Shem Creek (31 page)

“I’ve never been kayaking. It sounds like work.”

“Come on! You can’t live here and never kayak! That’s a sin! Think about it, you’re in this little boat, paddling along, right at water level and here come the dolphins, swimming right next to you. Amazing.”

“That would scare the living daylights out of me,” I said.

“No, it wouldn’t. They don’t get that close to the kayak and besides, they have more to worry about than you do. You might eat them or stuff them and hang them on your wall. Anyway, it’s perfectly safe.”

“Gracie would probably love it. But, like, what if it turns over? And your legs get stuck? And, you can’t, you can’t get out? And you’re hanging upside down in the water? And you drown?”

“Then, you die.”

I looked at him and there was a grin across his face as wide as the Cooper River.

“Very funny.”

“Are you always this big of a nervous Nellie about trying something new?”

I cleared my throat and stood up straight, realizing my hands were damp. “No. I am not. It’s just that I like to know what the odds are on life and death before I get in the water. There are sharks all over the place, you know. Didn’t you ever see
Jaws
?”

“Big deal. That’s Hollywood. Well, suit yourself but I think you would really love it. If you could get someone to repair that broken-down dock on the Epsteins’ property, you could put a boat in right there.”

“Well, the pilings are still there . . . it’s worth a thought . . . probably cost a million dollars to rebuild the dock.”

“How about no? It wouldn’t? Maybe Lowell would split the cost with you. Anyway, try it first. It’s a healthy sport.”

“Well, maybe I will.”

We stared at each other for a minute while I was just standing there like a tobacco-store Indian, waiting for someone to move me to another room. He had wanted to use my office to have a moment of privacy and I continued to stand there.

“I’ll just be a few minutes,” he said.

I recovered and said, “Oh! Take your time. By the way, speaking of Lowell, if you happen to speak to him would you ask him if the garage is included in my rent? Tell him I’ll get it emptied if he wants. It’s full of junk.”

“Sure. I gotta take Bogart and then I’ll be back later on.”

“Okay. See you later.”

I left and went to find Louise.

“Who’s cooking tonight?” I said.

“Yours truly,” she said, “I figured Duane could use the time off. He just left. I mean, the man has worked the last eight days straight. Want to help?”

“Sure, why not? Gracie’s coming in anyhow so there’s no reason for me to rush home. You know, Louise . . .” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “I don’t know how to cook, really. I mean, I make breakfast and hamburgers and meat loaf and spaghetti, but that’s about it. Mimi’s the cook in our family.”

“You must be pulling my leg!”

I shook my head.

“Lord, help us! She can’t cook. No wonder y’all are so skinny!” she said. “Okay, you got decent knives?”

“I ain’t got squat.”

“Mercy!” she said. “Okay. First thing you need to know about working in a professional kitchen is that every chef has their own knives. Knives are expensive, so you keep them locked up in a toolbox and take them home with you at night. But since this is your first time, you can use mine. Then, if you like cooking and you want to rotate with me in the kitchen, you got to go buy your own. Okay?”

“Okay.”

And that marked the beginning of my training in the slice-and-dice club.

I was slicing onions the exact way Louise had shown me and scooping them into a metal bin that was used only for onions. There were many of them, all lined up in the same order every day. They held sliced onions, diced onions, garlic, green bell pepper, red bell pepper, watercress, chopped parsley, lemon wedges—they all needed to be filled and refilled. I had that knife rolling back and forth over fresh chives until they were minced like confetti.

The more I looked around the kitchen the more I learned. For example, they used three frying pans to every one pot. Things like potatoes were parboiled and then reheated in a pot. But string beans, carrots, asparagus, and any number of side dishes that were served along with entrees were blanched and reheated in butter or olive oil in a frying pan. That partial cooking and reheating routine sure got the food out to the dining room a lot faster. And the kitchen was in high gear long before the first customer would arrive for dinner.

“It’s all about preparation,” Louise said. “Once this place starts to rock and roll, there ain’t no time for starting from scratch.”

“I see that! This is like warming up the orchestra, right?”

“You got it! Now you’re cooking with gas!”

Gracie was back and forth from the dining room to the kitchen, wiping down tables, setting up for dinner, and Alex was sweeping the floor. Lupe had dropped them off.

Louise and I were talking about Lindsey and her classes at school and then we rolled back around to Amy and how much we didn’t like her. Alex and Gracie seemed to have a running commentary going about Gracie’s passion for the water.

“It’s about drainage!” she said, leaving through the swinging doors, carrying a rack of glasses. “You gotta have drainage!”

“That’s what ditches are for!” Alex said, coming behind her with a broom and dustpan. “Don’t you think the developers plan these—”

“No, they don’t! They don’t even monitor the water quality of Shem Creek and it’s got the lowest rating . . .”

“Well, you’d be an idiot to drink it . . .”

When they were out of earshot, Louise turned to me.

“I heard her say that she joined a new club at school. In my day, clubs were for fun. I think they make these children too serious, ’eah?”

“You’re right about that. You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff they talk about. When I took health in high school, their idea of teaching reproduction was watching flowers bloom. On a good day, you got to see bees pollinating. That was considered wild and we were supposed to fill in the blanks. Now they practically hand out how-to videos.”

“Humph,” Louise said. “I don’t know what this world is coming to.”

Alex came back through, behind Gracie, stopping to empty his dustpan. “If you go to that rally, you’re nuts.”

“Wha evah!”
said the young lady from New Jersey.

“Miss Gracie? What’s got your bloomers all in knots? Tell Louise!”

“It’s this Jason Miller guy,” Alex said. “He’s a creep!”

“Is your name Gracie? He is not,” Gracie said. “He’s one of the smartest people I have ever met. And, you don’t even know him.”

“Um, excuse me? Was I not here when he pulled out all those posters right in front of my dad’s restaurant? The guy’s a freak!”

“Okay, he’s a little bit of a nut. I’ll give you that, but I have learned more from him in just a few weeks than I ever knew about watersheds and how to protect my hometown than I learned in my whole life.”

“Fine, you go with Jason Miller to his stupid rally and don’t call me to bail you out of jail,” Alex said.

“Fine,” Gracie said and took another rack of glasses back to the dining room.

“What’s this rally?” I said.

“You know that place up the creek where they’re building the new restaurant?”

Louise and I nodded our heads.

“Well, I think he wants to plaster environmental posters all over it or something.”

“Good Lord,” I said.

“He’s a busybody,” Louise said. “And, maybe dangerous too, ’eah?”

“I think he’s more of a jerk than a mastermind criminal. I gotta hose down the sunset deck,” Alex said, and went out the back door to the service steps.

We watched him go and then I went back to chopping mushrooms. I didn’t like what I had heard. I could not allow Gracie to protest against the businesses that put the clothes on her back and the roof over her head.

It was around four-thirty when Brad came back. We had just given the waitstaff the list of the dinner specials—Louise’s specialties—benne seed shrimp for an appetizer, Carolina crab cakes for an appetizer or a main course, okra gumbo with Carolina white rice, baked flounder stuffed with crabmeat and grilled orange chicken with ratatouille. The dessert special was fried bananas over homemade vanilla bean ice cream. I got hungry just listening to them.

Brad was having dinner with Robert and Susan at six and when they arrived I made sure they were seated at the best table, which I had reserved for them. I went over to say hello.

Robert and Brad stood but I motioned for them to sit back down. I had never met Susan before and she looked exactly as Robert had described her—gorgeous. And, she was nice.

“It’s so nice to meet you at last,” I said, “Robert has said so many wonderful things about you.”

“See? I’m a fabulous husband! Am I a fabulous husband or what? Right? Right?”

“You’re fabulous,” Brad said, shaking his head.

That Robert was hilarious.

“Oh, thanks!” Susan said. “And he’s said some pretty terrific things about you too! It’s nice to finally put the name and face together. Is Louise here?”

“Yeah, of course! Do you want me to tell her to come out or do y’all want to come back and say hello?”

“Tell her we’ll pop our heads in, okay?” Robert said. “And, tell her I’m dying for her crab cakes, I’ve been thinking about them all day.”

Men and their stomachs—you could write a book.

I gave Louise the message and went to check on the kids.

Gracie had decided to stay until I finished that night and was in my office doing homework. Alex was doing his on the other side of the desk. They seemed quiet and happy. Around nine when almost everyone had left, I got them some dessert, took the cash from O’Malley at the bar and went to my office to put it in the safe overnight.

“Here, I brought you something.”

“Oh, man! Thanks, Mom!”

“Gosh, thanks!”

“Excuse me, sweetheart, I have to get in the closet behind you.” I took the key from the top of the door frame, opened the closet door and knelt to open the safe. Gracie and Alex were watching me.

“Mom? Is that really smart? I mean to leave the key just right up there?”

“Well, honey, nobody knows it’s there except Brad, Louise and me and now y’all. But if I can’t trust you with that information, you should tell me now,” I said, standing up and replacing the key in its spot.

“Cross my heart,” Gracie said.

“I don’t know, Ms. Breland, now that Gracie knows, I’d put it somewhere else,” Alex said and winked at me.

“Alex! Finish your math or just give it to me and I’ll do it! Let’s get out of here. I want to go home and vege.”

It had been a long day and I was tired too. Alex went to find Brad. Gracie and I said good night to O’Malley.

“I’m packing it in for the day,” I said, “see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, we’re closing soon. Pretty slow tonight.”

Gracie and I walked across the parking lot and from there we could see that most of the other restaurants were nearly empty too. Most kitchens closed at nine and most people ate supper early. Even on the nights I stayed beyond my shift, it wasn’t that late when I got home.

“Whatcha thinking, Gracie?”

“I don’t know,” she said, “a lot of things.”

“Did you talk to Lindsey today?”

“Yeah. She’s fine. I miss her, you know?”

“Me too.” I gave her shoulder a rub. “Next year we start looking at colleges for you. Can you believe that?”

“I’m not even ready to think about it.”

I unlocked the car with the remote and we got in, slamming the doors. All the way home, we were quiet. I was thinking about my girls and how unprepared we all seemed for life. How did anyone prepare for life? I was going around, acting like a great stoic, when most of the time I was shaking inside. Was Gracie shaking inside too?

Before I crawled into bed, I turned out the lights and went to her room to say good night. She was propped up on her pillows with her stuffed animals all around her and she seemed so little to me. And young. Her old pink-and-white quilt was pulled up over her waist, even though the house was warm.

“Want me to tuck you in?” I said.

“Yeah. Will you scratch my back?”

“You bet.”

Gracie turned over on her stomach and pulled up her T-shirt for me and I began to run my nails across her bony ribs and shoulder blades.

“You know what? We need to fix up this room a little. Maybe we should take some pictures and frame them and cover that whole wall. What do you think?”

“Sure. Right in the middle,” she said. “Ahhhhh! Gaaaaa.”

“That means it’s good?”

“Yeah.”

“Gracie?”

“Hmmm?”

“How are we doing here?”

“What do you mean? How are we doing in South Carolina versus New Jersey? Or you and me or what?”

“I guess I mean, what’s going on in Gracie’s heart?”

“I’m okay,” she said, but I could tell in the tone of her voice that something wasn’t quite right.

“Come on, tell your momma. . . .”

She pulled down her top, rolled over on her back and chewed on her lip a little before speaking. Then she propped herself up on one elbow and looked in my eyes with an intensity I had only ever seen when it came from anger. This time though, it came from another place.

“Mom? It’s different here, you know? I mean, Mount Pleasant has some things that Montclair didn’t and Montclair has some things that Mount Pleasant doesn’t. Kids are kids. There might be more white girls in my class, but they’re just as bitchy as the girls I went to school with in New Jersey, except they’re not as up front about it, but I think that’s just their style. All teenage girls stick it to each other and especially outsiders. I’m still an outsider.”

“Well, that won’t last forever.”