Seeing Red (28 page)

J tired himself out scrubbing the kitchen floor and went to bed without a fight. Beau had vacuumed, I’d dusted, and we were finishing cleaning the kitchen by the time we heard the Biscayne wagon crunch its way back onto the gravel. I was surprised to hear two car doors open.

I heard Mama say, “I could’ve dropped you right at your front door.”

“No, Mrs Porter.” It was Rosie’s voice. “I want to walk the path because Daddy’ll be asleep by now, so I can sneak in – I mean, I can go in without waking him up, like the car and headlights might. Thank you for taking me out to supper.”

I looked at Beau. The two of them had gone out to supper?

“Thank you, Rosie,” Mama said. “I really needed your company.”

“Oh, any time. That was fun.” Rosie giggled. “I wonder if anyone heard us singing, what with the windows all the way down. You have a real nice voice, Mrs Porter. You should sing more often.”

Rosie was always wanting people to sing. She tried to get me to join her in that song from the Coke ad, “I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing”. After enough times of me singing off-key on purpose because I thought it was so funny, she got fed up.

“You remember how that song goes, right?” Rosie asked.

They started singing that “I Am Woman” song. We watched them through the screen door, Mama’s arm around Rosie’s waist, Rosie’s arm around Mama’s shoulder, walking towards the shop, and I was surprised to see that Rosie was taller than Mama.

I heard Beau next to me humming along with them, and then start singing softly.

I stopped him when he sang, “I am woman”.

“Beau! It’s not a song that’s meant for you.”

He looked at me, then back out at Mama and Rosie. “I think it’s a song that’s meant for everyone, Red.” And he went on singing about wisdom born of pain.

He was still singing as Mama stood alone in the moonlight by the shop, watching Rosie walk down the line of trees to her house.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

What Happened to Rosie

Miss Miller was on recess duty and called me over. “Here’s your answer from Mr Reynolds,” she said, handing me back my piece of paper. “If you have any questions, I may be able to explain it better.”

I opened up the paper and read Mr Reynolds’s handwriting. I couldn’t make out any of it, not because his handwriting was bad but because most of the words he used I didn’t know.
Writ of execution
,
debtor
,
judgement rendered
,
recorded lien
,
foreclose.
I looked up at Miss Miller.

“I know,” she said. “That’s why I had him explain it to me in plain English. Basically what it means is that if someone can’t pay their debt, the person they owe the money to can take away their property – land, for example – in order to get paid back.” She looked at me. “Does that help?”

“Not really. I mean, I understand what you said, I just…”

“It just doesn’t help you solve the puzzle.”

“Right.”

“Well, maybe it will. Sometimes we need to let things mull around for a while before we figure them out.”

I was letting things mull around that afternoon while I was looking for the church, but it wasn’t making any sense yet. Who was it that couldn’t pay a debt? And who was going to get something for it? Was Old Man Porter making the Dunlops pay for something? Maybe the Dunlops were supposed to pay George Freeman. Maybe they never paid. Is that why the old Mr Dunlop shot George Freeman in the back? I was getting frustrated that I couldn’t figure it out.

I was also getting pretty discouraged about ever finding that altar, so I was almost relieved when I saw Rosie sitting on that big rock in the middle of the creek, knowing I could just sit for a while and talk with her. She was hunched up and moving funny, so I figured she had her transistor radio and was singing and moving to the music. When I got closer, though, I realized what was happening. She was crying.

I plunged right into the water, not even trying to pick my way across the stepping stones. “Rosie!”

She flinched. “Red! You scared me!”

My jaw dropped when I saw her face. There was a big bruise on one side, so half of her face looked blue-ish.

She tried to cover it up by putting her hand on her cheek, but she winced in pain.

“What happened, Rosie?”

She looked away and wouldn’t answer.

“Did your daddy do that to you?” My voice came out like a growl.

She kind of shook her head. “Red, don’t go doing anything, you’ll just get hurt.”

My voice dropped even lower. “He’s not getting away with this.”

But I didn’t know how to stop him. It wasn’t like me and Thomas could glue her daddy’s hands down with contact cement, although I sure would like to try. I had to do something.

I convinced her to come back home with me. “Mama!” I yelled. I coaxed Rosie into the kitchen as she tried to cover her face with her hands.

Mama came in from the dining room. “I’m right here, Re—” She stopped when she saw Rosie. “What happened?”

“Her daddy!” I said.

Rosie burst out crying again, and Mama ran over to us, pulling Rosie into her arms.

I walked straight to the phone and picked up the receiver.

“What are you doing?” Rosie squeaked.

“Calling the sheriff.”

Rosie gasped.

“He’s right, honey,” Mama said, putting her head against the good side of Rosie’s face. “We have to.”

“The sheriff?” Rosie breathed, as I dialled the number. “What are you going to tell him?”

I looked at Rosie, one side of her face all swelled up. “The truth.”

Mama, Rosie and I were sitting at the kitchen table with cheese and Ritz crackers that none of us were eating when Beau came to the kitchen door, wiping his hands on a grease rag. “I done fixed two cars today all by my—” He saw Rosie, who’d forgotten about her face and tried covering it, but it was too late. Beau’s jaw set and his face went hard. “I think I’ll go stop by the Dunlops’.”

“Now, Beau,” Mama said, holding Rosie’s hand, “you don’t need to go over there. The sheriff went and we’re waiting for his call now.”

“Don’t you worry, Miz Porter, I’m going to be respectful and all, just pay them a visit and let Mr Dunlop know I know what’s going on without saying as much.” He turned to go. “And let him know that Beau don’t like it. No, sir!”

I tried to go with him, but both Mama and Beau insisted I stay put.

“He thinks I’m harmless,” Beau said, “but he don’t know Beau.”

I finally agreed because Beau convinced me that Mr Dunlop would only get madder if I were there. But I sure couldn’t help picturing Mr Dunlop as a Rock’Em Sock’Em Robot, whose head I knocked off over and over and over.

Mama decided to “have some girl fun”, so she and Rosie went to look in her closet for more clothes she could fix up for Rosie. As soon as they left the kitchen, I hightailed it over to the bushes by the Dunlops’ so I could watch what Beau did.

He was standing at their front door talking to Mr Dunlop, whose face was peeking out from the crack.

“I bet you want to wring the neck of the person that done that. I know I sure do! Yes, sir, if I ever catch that guy, he’s gonna wish he were dead by the time I finish with him. In fact, I’m gonna sit right here on the porch all night long and watch out for him and make sure he don’t come back.”

The door opened wider and Mr Dunlop half stepped out. “You gonna do no such thing, you big—”

But just as he said
big
, Beau marched up the steps and loomed over him like an angry black bear and Mr Dunlop stepped back with a snort. “Fine, you fool enough to sit here all night in the cold, go ahead!” He also flung some choice words at Beau, but Beau just smiled and said, “Thank you very much,” touched the bill of his cap, and sat on the top step of the Dunlops’ porch.

I felt a lot better knowing Beau was there, so I went on home. The sheriff called to say he’d read Mr Dunlop the riot act and, what with Beau there, it was safe for Rosie to go back home. Rosie didn’t want to leave her mama alone, anyway, so Mama walked her over, along with J, and brought them supper. Mama made it real clear that I was to stay at home.

When Mama and J got back to the kitchen, J asked her, “Why were you so nice to Mr Dunlop? I thought you were going to yell at him like you did when I said Reverend Benson likes his wife to bake—”

I gave him the evil eye, and J must’ve been getting smarter because he actually shut up.

“It’s best not to annoy wounded animals,” Mama said. “They might lash out even more.”

The next morning, after Rosie got on the bus, Beau came back home. After school, I told him what a good job he’d done, especially standing his ground on the porch and scaring Mr Dunlop.

“I don’t like acting that way, Red. But the ugliness is always going to be there unless you face it.”

“You were the one who felt sorry for old Mr Dunlop,” I reminded him.

Beau nodded slowly. “I still do, a little bit.”

“Why on earth would you feel sorry for him?”

“It must be hard not having anybody love you.”

Only Beau would be kind enough to think that. I was just glad nobody was leaving Rosie alone with Mr Dunlop. Mama called the Dunlops’ house “Grand Central Station”, what with all the visitors that day, from Reverend Benson, his wife, and other church ladies to the sheriff.

“I’m taking Rosie out to dinner tonight,” Mama told me as she wiped down the kitchen counter. She stopped to give me the eyeball. “You, young man, are forbidden to go over there because Mr Dunlop does not like you.”

“Mr Dunlop doesn’t like anyone! That’s no reason for me not to go.”

“He doesn’t like you, in particular, because he knows that you’ll stand up to him. That’s rare in this town. You stay away from that man, that’s the rule.”

I didn’t like the rule, but I kind of liked the reason for it. I walked over to the shop, trying to hide a smile, when I heard Mr Dunlop yelling, “I don’t need your help!” and J came running down the path from the Dunlops’, practically crashing into me.

“What were you doing over there, J?”

“I’m keeping my eye on Mr Dunlop like everybody else.”

“How?”

“I asked him if he had any jobs I could do for him ’cause I ain’t got my Cub Scout badge yet.”

“But you’re not even a Cub Scout.”

He grinned. “I know. That’s how come I ain’t got a badge yet.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “That was a good one, J!” I had to admire how brave J was, going right up to Mr Dunlop like that, but I also knew how annoying J could be and it wouldn’t take much pestering for Mr Dunlop to get real mad at him. “You shouldn’t go over there any more, though.”

His face fell. “Why not?”

“Well, for one thing, do you really want to do any chores for him?”

“No!”

“Then you don’t want to go back again.”

His forehead was still scrunched up.

“You done good, Bamm-Bamm. Daddy would be real proud of you.”

His grin was so wide he looked as goofy as that cartoon kid, Alfred E. Neuman, on
MAD
magazine.

Later, when I saw Mr Reynolds’s Mustang race by – with Miss Miller in it – I figured they were going to the Dunlops’ and I headed over to my hiding place so I could watch.

I heard Mr Reynolds before I got there, his voice loud and angry.

“All I’m saying, sir, is that times are changing, and you will no longer get away with abusing your own children – or women or blacks or any class of people, for that matter.”

“Times ain’t changing that much!” Mr Dunlop barked back. “Not here!”

“Oh, really? You might be interested to know that as of 1967, in
Loving versus Virginia
, the Supreme Court held that mixed-race marriage is perfectly legal in the United States.”

By that time I was in my hiding place and Mr Dunlop was having a conniption. Mr Reynolds was walking backwards off the porch, being tugged along by Miss Miller, but all the while he kept talking.

“Yes, sir, blacks and whites can indeed get married right here in Virginia. I’m simply telling you what the law says. And, in spite of how you feel about the schools, the Supreme Court outlawed segregation in public schools in
Brown versus Board of Education
of Topeka, Kansas, and right here in Virginia –” by this time Miss Miller had dragged him to the car and started pushing him into it – “in the case of
James versus Almond
, the school board was ordered to open up the schools they closed” – Miss Miller shut his car door and Mr Reynolds quit talking all of a sudden, surprised that he found himself behind the wheel of the Mustang, and looked over at Miss Miller getting in the passenger seat.

She patted his shoulder and smiled at him as he pulled out the keys and started the engine. As they drove away I couldn’t help but think that they acted like a little old married couple already.