Tender Graces (26 page)

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Authors: Kathryn Magendie

BOOK: Tender Graces
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Rebekha grabbed up Andy’s stick and beat the snake to a pulp while its body wiggled around, its mouth opening wide. Even after it was mangled up and bloody and dead she kept pounding it. We kids had our mouths open wide enough to catch a pound of flies. Rebekha had mud from tip to toe, blood splattered on her legs, and her hair was wet up with sweat, mud, and spit.

We oohed and aahed over the guts as she picked up what was left of the snake and hurled it hard as she could into the water. “I hate snakes! Nasty shitting bastards!”

I hadn’t ever heard her cuss before. It was as if she was taken over by aliens from outer space. She held the stick like a bat, and when the coast was clear, she threw it down, dusted off her hands, said real slow, “Get—away from—this—canal—
now
.” We were already scrambling up before she could finish. She followed behind, looking backwards to make sure the brother of big fat snake wasn’t following.

“Wow, Rebekha!” Andy stared at her like he did puppies. “You could join our club if you want.”

Rebekha shook her head. “No. No. And a thousand times no. Stay away from this canal, you hear me?” She stared down Neil. “And you!” He turned and ran off to his bike before she could wallop him with words. She turned back to Andy. “Andy, I mean it.”

He laughed, then he and Dan hooted off for their bikes, talking both at once about the snake.

Rebekha limped to her car. “You and your friend want a ride, Virginia Kate?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” I tried to look like I was sorry, but since everything worked out okay, I was feeling excited about it all. And Rebekha had said
friend
. I asked Jade, “Do you need a ride?”

She grinned big as a truck, handed me my book, and asked, “Do y’all always have this much fun?”

I nodded my head even though I never had. I wiped the book on my shirt, put it back in my waistband, and we piled into Rebekha’s Oldsmobile. She was leaning over the steering wheel saying, “Oh my god. That silly crazy boy.”

Jadesta asked where we lived and Rebekha told her. She showed us where she lived. Her house was on the university lake, had big wide columns, lots of windows, and in her front yard, four big oak trees with moss hanging down.

Rebekha stopped the car. “Your mother will have a fit.”

“Yep.” She laughed, said, “Bye Virginia Kate. See you tomorrow.”

I said, “Tomorrow?”

But she had already taken off running to her house.

Rebekha gunned the car. From the corner of my eye, I watched her as she drove. She was almost always the same and it made me feel heavy in my seat, but a good heavy, the kind where I wouldn’t go drifting off and away like a lost balloon. After she pulled into our driveway and stopped, I said, “Thanks for saving my brother’s life, Ma’am . . . I mean, Rebekha.” The name tumbled from my tongue, but it didn’t feel bad at all, it felt like a good name to say.

She turned to me with a glowy smile, said real quiet, “You’re welcome, Virginia Kate,” then looked down at her feet. “I lost my slippers.”

We both laughed.

“I think I should get some of those floppies like you girls wear.”

“Floppies?” I thought a minute. “Oh, you mean flip flops?”

She nodded, then said, “Well, now. Let’s get cleaned up and you can help me cook dinner.”

I sat in the tub of bubbles thinking about when I first came to Louisiana. How I washed off the West Virginia dirt and let it go down the drain. How Momma’s shirt was washed and it took away her smells. It felt like it happened a hundred and one years ago. My mountain floated in my head, losing its shape. Momma’s face was doing that, too. The house, the maple, the swing, my room with the iron bed and yellow walls—all fading away.

After soaping my hair, I pulled the plug, and then rinsed under the faucet, letting the Louisiana dirt gurgle down the drain. I felt the suction pulling my hair down with it. I’d be sucked right down, too, right out into the Mississippi, except I was heavy enough to stay where I was. The water fell over my face and I opened my eyes, and then closed them.

 

Chapter 22

So quick bright things come to confusion

After the snake kill, Rebekha cooked hamburgers, fried potatoes, and pralines for dessert. Daddy moved the coffee table. Rebekha spread a blanket on the floor of the living room for us to eat on. Andy told about the day with his hands going ever which a way and his eyes big and round.

Daddy looked at Rebekha. “You killed the snake?”

“Uh huh.” She took a big bite of hamburger. Mustard caught on the side of her mouth.

Bobby, Andy, and I had our rears propped up by pillows. Elvis was on the record player. Daddy held a tall glass, two ice cubes. We kids drank grape Kool-Aid; Rebekha had sweet tea.

We were eating from paper plates; my idea. But Rebekha served the food on nice platters and we used the fancy glasses. Micah and Andy made their hamburgers double-decker so that they had to open their mouths big and wide. Bobby’s was cut up and he opened his mouth like his brothers, even though he didn’t really need to.

I thought maybe everything would be okay since we were all there and everybody was smiling.

Daddy wiped his mouth, said, “I have a meeting with the Chancellor.”

Rebekha ate a potato and swallowed. “Why didn’t you mention it earlier?”

“I thought sure I did.” Daddy had eaten only half his hamburger.

Rebekha crammed a whole handful of fried potatoes in her mouth and chewed fast. The mustard was still there on her face and there was salt added to it from the potatoes. When she talked with her mouth full, we kids stared at her like it was an episode of
The Twilight Zone
. “I killed a snake today. I saved a daredevil boy’s life.” She reached over and rubbed Andy’s hair. He looked at her the same way he used to look at Momma. “So, I’m not going to worry about you tonight.”

“My, aren’t we the feisty one.” Daddy took a long swallow, his Adam’s apple going up and down up and down. I noticed a cut on his neck where he shaved that morning. When he lowered the glass, it was almost empty. He saw me staring at him and his face turned soft. “Hey, Bug. You’re getting prettier every day. How’d you get so big just like that when I wasn’t watching?” His voice sounded thick and funny.

“I don’t know, Daddy.”

“Rebekha, tell us about the snake guts again.” Micah was thirteen, but he still liked a good gut story. He slid his eyes over to Daddy. “Tell us about snakes in the grass.”

Daddy stood. He looked as if he wanted to go, but he didn’t want to go, all at the same time.

Bobby said, “Guts-guts-guts.” Then giggled and rolled around, knocking his potatoes all over the blanket.

“I hate snakes.” Rebekha swallowed a sip of tea, said, “I had a cousin who nearly died when he was bit by one. I was there and didn’t do anything but scream. Luckily, my father heard me and came to the rescue. I was only five, but I felt bad about being scared.”

Daddy bent down and touched a napkin to Rebekha’s face, wiping off the mustard and salt. He still had soft eyes. Rebekha looked up at him and her lips opened a little, letting him wipe her mouth. He said, “You hate snakes, but you killed it for Andy. ‘Screw your courage to the sticking place, and we’ll not fail.’”

Everyone was quiet and still, seeing how Daddy wiped Rebekha’s mouth like she was a little girl.

Rebekha touched where he dabbed the napkin. She reached for his hand and held on. Looking him eye to eye, she said, “So, still going to your meeting?”

Daddy straightened up, and Rebekha’s hand fell to her lap. We waited to see what he’d do.

“Frederick?”

Daddy drank the rest from his glass, making a sour face at the taste. He said, “Yes, I have to.”

Rebekha’s eyes slammed shut to Daddy. “I see. Well, then, we’ll have our pralines and Elvis without you.” She went back to eating, not looking back at Daddy.

“Daddy, can’t you call the Chancelet guy and tell him you’ll see him later alligator?” Andy had a wad of hamburger in his mouth and a piece of half-chewed bread flew into the air and landed on the blanket.

Micah rolled his eyes. “Geez, Andy-Bo-Bandy.”

“Yeah, why not?” But I knew Daddy would go by the way his fingers were tapping against his leg, pinkie to thumb, thumb to pinkie.

“You all enjoy this wonderful picnic. I won’t be long.” He jingled his keys in his pocket, then turned and was out the door.

We finished eating, mostly not talking. While Rebekha went to the kitchen for the pralines, Micah turned the record over. Andy and I did the twist. Rebekha came in, set down the tray of pralines and clapped. I caught Micah looking proud at Rebekha a couple of times. He couldn’t get over the idea of the snake story, or Rebekha saying
shitting bastards
(I told him about that before supper).

I thought he’d go to his room as soon as he tossed about fifty pralines in his mouth, but he stuck around. When the song about blue shoes came on, he jumped up and sang, swinging his hips. He pretended a potato was his microphone, and he sounded pretty good for a brother. Under the ceiling light, his dark hair shined. He wore a tan shirt tucked into dark brown corduroys. He was getting a bit of a mustache, and I wondered when that happened the same as Daddy asking when had I gotten so big. We were all changing.

The windows were open and the attic fan was on, stirring around the air, sucking it in and then out, sending little dusties dancing around with us. I smelled sweet olive and the dark dirt that Rebekha planted her flowers in.

Andy’s hair stuck straight up in the back where he hadn’t combed it down after his bath. He wore ragged-up cut-offs and a torn t-shirt, like usual. He picked at a scratch on his arm, laughing at Micah. He stood up, peeked at Rebekha out of the corner of his eye to see if she was watching him while he copied his older brother playing pretend guitar and drums. His feet were still a little dirty and he stomped them in time to the music.

Bobby copied Andy stomping. He twirled around in circles until he was dizzy and fell on his rear. His hair was still soft and wispy and it was turning a dark reddish-brown. His eyes lit up as he turned to me and said, “’Ginia  Kay! ‘Ginia Kay!” He hugged my neck and then ran back to be with his brothers.

I turned to study Rebekha, but she was smiling at me. I felt different inside, different about her and about me. She stood and picked up Bobby, dancing him around the room. I thought about Momma dancing with us, when we all smelled like Dove soap. I missed her, but I missed this kind of momma, not the other kind of her.

Rebekha’s single-pearl necklace bounced on her long neck as she danced. I’d never seen her look as she did then. When Bobby squirmed to get down, then swung his hips from side to side, she threw back her head and laughed. She took to doing some kind of weird tappity dance across the floor.

We kids stared at her. I leaned over and sniffed her glass, but it was only tea. Micah grinned at me, still holding the mushed-up tater-phone. He shrugged and ate it. Andy stared up at Rebekha as if she had the moon right on her head.

I skipped to my room to get my camera. In the mirror, my face was glowy; my hair springing out of the pigtails, and my eyes had a star sparkly look. I didn’t know who I was right then. My white shirt had a ketchup stain on the front, spreading like the snake’s blood. I ran back to the party and snapped pictures. Micah and Rebekha doing the twist. Andy holding Bobby in his lap, both of them clapping. The way the room spun around when I danced.

Micah grabbed the camera from me and took more pictures. Everybody had their turn. The whole night felt like those kaleidoscope toys where you look through the peephole and see all the colors changing and turning and running in and out of each other.

We used the whole roll—all of us caught in the camera, except Daddy.

When the record stopped, we flopped on the blanket to eat the rest of the pralines. Rebekha turned on the radio right when Herman’s Hermits was finishing a song about somebody’s daughter. Micah sang in a funny West Virginia-Louisiana-Herman’s Hermits kind of voice that made us all fall out laughing.

Daddy walked in right then and stared around the room. “Well! What have we here?” He grinned big at everyone. Micah stuffed a praline in his mouth, chewed a little, then opened his mouth to show me the chewed candy, flaring his nostrils at the same time. He left the room, his shoes clomping down the hall to his room.

“Daddy, just like you said, you wasn’t gone long at all,” Andy said.

“You
weren’t
gone,” Daddy said.

Bobby ran over and pulled on Daddy’s britches leg, grinning lopsided. Daddy reached down and patted his head, but he was looking at Rebekha.

“I didn’t expect you back so soon.” Rebekha pushed her hair behind her ears.

I handed Daddy a praline. “Take it, Daddy. They’re yummy.”

“Why, thank you my dainty Ariel.” He sat on the couch, took a bite, and then put the rest on a plate.

Rebekha leaned over to kiss Daddy. When she was just to his lips, she jerked up, giving him a look you give someone you want to punch in the nose. “Nice cologne you have there, mister.” Daddy looked at Rebekha, in her white pedal pushers and yellow top. He traveled up the whole of her until he got to her eyes. They stared each other down like two stray dogs until she turned away to clean up the mess.

Daddy said, “What’s wrong?”

Rebekha went into the kitchen and I heard water running.

Daddy’s eyebrows came together, then he clapped his hands on his knees. “Well, you all, ‘To sleep, perchance to dream’ . . . ”

“Tuck me ina bed, Daddy.” Bobby held up his arms. Daddy picked him up and left the room. Andy followed them, looking over his shoulder at me with a what-happened-here look.

I shrugged, straightened all the records and turned off the radio.

Daddy came back in and sat on the couch, his hands on his knees, staring at his fingers. I didn’t know what he needed. He looked up at me. “Well, what a night.” His smile hurt my insides; it was almost like Bobby smiling at me.

I couldn’t help it; I went over and hugged his neck. I leaned into him and he patted me on the back. Nobody said anything to ruin that bit of time I took from him. “Can you read me some Shakespeare, Daddy?”

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