Tender Graces (34 page)

“It’s your momma.”

“What does
she
want? Like I care.” I was all wound up with how she’d be crying boo hoo hoo, while I said, “Tough, Toots. So long.” I saw the mountains making shadows over the house, over Momma. She was disappearing away away under that shadow. I blinked it away, said, “She thinks she can just call here after all this time.” My lower lip pooched out all the way to West Virginia.

Rebekha was at the sink pouring two glasses of water. She sat down and gulped half of hers. She said, “Your mother was in an accident.” She took another gulp. All my mad feelings at my momma flew away. Rebekha stared at her glass, and then went on, “Your aunt Ruby lost control of the car.” She reached out to hold my hand. “Ruby died and—”

“—and Momma?” I breathed in and out, keeping my eyes on Rebekha. The room was still—the whole world was waiting with me to know.

“She’s alive, but she’s badly hurt.”

“How bad?”

More sipping of water. Rebekha’s hands were shaking. “She asked for you. She wants you to come.”

I looked down at my hands. They weren’t twitching, but my stomach was boiling over like a big pot of gumbo. Momma was hurt and she asked for me. She was thinking of me. It made me mad how easy I was taken in by her again. How easy it was for me to want Momma to want me again.

“That was your Uncle Jonah. He wants you to fly to West Virginia.”

I couldn’t look at Rebekha. I was afraid she’d see it. See the silly girl who still wanted her momma.

“To see your mother.” She drank the rest of the water in a few throat-bobbing gulps, then said, “And for Ruby’s memorial.”

“To see my momma.”

“Do you want to go? If you don’t, just tell me.” She took a deep breath and let it out slow. “But I think you should go see her.”

I had a funny thought, wondering if Rebekha loved me as a blood momma loves a blood daughter. A voice swam in my head like little fishes darting around—but how does a momma love anyway? How did my momma love my brothers and me? My head hurt with it all. I stood and looked out the kitchen window. Miss Darla was in her back yard, watering flowers. “What about Micah and Andy?”

“Of course they will go.”

“Did she ask for them, or just me?”

“All of you.”

My lips felt all stiffed up and hard. “She wants us all back.”

“You can tell your brothers yourself if you like, or I could for you.”

“I’ll do it. But Micah won’t go.”

“I’m sure he will,” she said.

“He won’t. Unless he wants to see Aunt Ruby dead.”

“Virginia Kate!”

“She deserved it!”

“No one deserves that.” She rubbed her forehead. “Your Uncle Jonah will meet y’all at the airport. You’ll stay with him and your aunt Billie.” She came to me and stroked my hair. “He’s a good man. Y’all will be okay.” She looked me in the eye. “You will, won’t you?”

I nodded.

“I guess you should get some things together. Do you need my help?”

I shook my head, and then went to my room to pack. I piled clothes on my bed. A skirt, a dress, three shirts, two t-shirts, a pair of blue jeans, a pair of cotton britches, two shorts, boots, flip flops, tenny shoes, underwear, socks, and two extra bras.

Digging into the dresser for my diary I found something wadded up in the corner. It was the girdle. I had forgotten all about it. Forgotten how Rebekha came in the room and we’d talked, our knees almost touching. I stared at the thing, wondering why I’d kept it. I locked my door, took off my shorts, stepped into the legs of it, and hopped over to lay on my bed. I pulled as hard as I could until somehow I was stuffed into it. It cut off my blood and I felt trapped. I grabbed on it and tried to pull it off but it had melted right on me.

I pulled until it hurt. I rolled off the bed, teeter-stepped over to open the door, and hollered for Rebekha. When she came in the room, her eyes crinkled as if she wanted to laugh, but she didn’t. “Help me get this off, Rebekha.”

“Well, let’s see.” She grabbed the top and pulled, grunting like a wrestler. She tried rolling it down from the top until she had it part way over my hips. It just sat there rolled and tight. “Hon, how in the world did you get this thing on?”

I grunted and pulled.

She looked around the room. “Maybe some of this powder.” She got the amber powder holder and took out the puff, dabbing the powder over my hips and legs. The sweet-spicy smell took up the whole room. “Okay, lie back on the bed and suck in with everything you have.”

I sucked in until I thought I would bust my gut. She was finally able to work that thing off me. Then she busted out laughing. I sat up and stared at her, until I busted out laughing, too. We both laughed so hard we fell back on the bed, holding onto our stomachs as if we were full of stupid and it was running out all over. After a while, I didn’t know if I was laughing or crying, sometimes they look and feel the same. They do.

I put my shorts back on while Rebekha kept snickering. She said, “Mee Maw. Remember that visit? And that smelly man she brought?”

“Eyew. I remember.”

“And that dog of hers.”

“Imperial the King Dog of the Land.” I giggled; it felt good to giggle, like other girls did.

Rebekha stood, looked down at my packed things. “Oh. You’re taking two suitcases.”

“I didn’t know what to bring. It’s just in case. I wasn’t sure how long. You know?” I couldn’t look at her standing there with powder all over her. With her mouth still like it was laughing, before it had a chance to pull down into a frown.

“Of course you need plenty of things. Just in case you take the summer.” She smiled too big, then said, “Well, your plane leaves in the morning, early. We can still cook together, if you want.”

“I want to.”

She left the room. I sat on my bed and stared at the suitcases. The blue and white plaid one from Rebekha. And the ugly one I’d come to Louisiana with.

Later, I told Andy, while he and Bobby were playing Chinese Checkers in Andy-and-Bobby’s room.

Bobby said, “I wanna go with Andy.”

“No, Bobby, I’m sorry, you can’t,” I said.

“Why not?” He sulled up.

“Our momma isn’t your momma,” Andy said.

“So? My mom wasn’t yours and then she was, so why couldn’t your mom wasn’t and then was?” Bobby crossed his arms over his chest. “I wanna go with Andy.”

Andy threw a marble at Bobby. “Hey, little brother, listen up.”

Bobby kept his body stiff but turned his eyes on Andy.

“I wish you could go, but you can’t. I can’t explain it. But, believe me. You wouldn’t want to go to that goddamn place.”

Bobby ran off with his face twisted up sad.

“I’m staying here anyway,” Andy said.

“I can’t go by myself.”

“Why not? Why should I care to go? You go right on and tell me why, Sister?”

I didn’t know. “Well, Micah won’t go, so I’ll be alone. Please, Andy.”

Andy’s shoulders drooped. “For you, but not for Momma.”  He jumped up and loped off.

When Micah came home, I was rocking on the porch waiting for him.

“Hey.” He sat in the other chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. “If you don’t quit looking like Momma, I’m going to freak.”

“You quit looking like Daddy then.”

He got up and stumbled around the porch. “How’s that for Daddy?”

“Stop it. He’s better now.”

He laughed and flopped back in his rocker.

“Micah?”

“Yeah?” He pushed back his hair and rocked as if he didn’t have a care, but I saw how his body was tight, how he never looked as if he didn’t have a care.

“Momma was in an accident. She’s in the hospital, but Aunt Ruby’s dead.”

Micah stopped rocking, but he didn’t say anything.

“I’m going, so’s Andy.”

His face was like a blank page in my diary. “You aren’t expecting me to go, now are you, Veestor?”

“Why not?” I pushed with my foot so I could rock fast enough to show I was tired of him being stupid about Momma.

“I told you once I got away from there I’d never go back.”

“I thought that was kid’s stuff.”

“No, it’s not kid’s stuff.” He stood up and walked to the edge of the porch. “Let’s take a walk.”

“A walk?”

“Yeah, one foot then the other.”

We walked just as we did the day I came to Louisiana. Micah had his hands in his pockets, taking lopey giraffe steps. Then he said it right out before I was ready to hear it. “I killed Uncle Ar-vile.”

I stopped in the middle of the street. A car full of pigs could’ve driven by and I wouldn’t have gawked more. He grabbed my arm to keep me walking. I said, “What’re you talking about?”

He didn’t say anything for a while, then, “I get nightmares. I can’t go back there.” He rubbed his eyes, trying to wipe out a picture in them. “I pushed him. But, it was an accident, I swear.”

I remembered all the sounds and smells of that day.

“He was . . . ” Micah swallowed, his Adam’s apple going way up and way down. “He was trying to hurt me.”

“Like how?”

“Like . . . bad things, you know?”

I thought I might, but I wasn’t sure.

He looked over at me. “Did he ever do anything bad to you?”

“No.”

He squeezed my arm, hard. “You promise?”

“I promise. He didn’t even like me.”

He stared into my eyes, nodded, wiped his face with his shirt.

“What happened, Micah?”

“I ran up the ladder to the second level to get away from him. I was going to jump out the window, and then he was there, behind me. He had his nasty drunk breath on my neck.” Micah’s fists were clenched. “I turned around to push him away from me and he fell off and landed on the pole. It went right through him. I heard the squishy sounds and everything. I didn’t know what to do, so I jumped out the window and hid in the woods. You came looking for me, and well, you know the rest.” We were back at the house by the time he finished telling me. We sat in the front yard.

I pulled grass and made a pile with it. “I didn’t know.”

“Well, hell, I know that. I never told a soul. You think that’s something I could ever tell anybody?” He speared me with his eyes. “You can’t ever tell either.” His lips set to quivering. “Promise me.” He took me by the shoulders and squeezed.

“I won’t tell. I promise.” My heart jumped right out and landed on my big brother. “It wasn’t your fault, Micah. It wasn’t.”

“I was just a little kid.” He put his face in his hands and pressed. “Sometimes I still see him, gurgling, blood spurting out.”

I touched him on the arm. “He deserved it. Rebekha said people don’t deserve things no matter what. But she’s wrong. He deserved it. And you didn’t do it on purpose. Just like you said, you were a little kid.”

“I killed someone. Doesn’t matter whether it was accidental or not. Doesn’t matter if he deserved it or not. It’s something I gotta live with.”

I remembered the drawing of the man with holes all over him. “What about if you draw the bad feelings away.”

He looked at me.

“I mean, when I snap pictures, I feel like I got control over things, I guess.” I shrugged. I thought I sounded silly.

“That’s smart, Vee.” He looked up at the oak where a squirrel ran around the trunk chasing another squirrel. The squirrels were happy like I had been at the lake just a few hours ago. Micah went on, “I can’t wait for next year, so I can go to New York. I’ll never come back here, and I’ll never go back there.”

“Why not here?”

“I don’t know, Vee. Daddy I guess. I’m afraid I’ll turn out just like him.”

“You’re you, Micah. You can’t be someone else since you’re you.”

“Aren’t you ever afraid you’ll be like Momma?”

I couldn’t answer him.

“Maybe I’ll visit Louisiana. But there’s no way in hell I’ll ever be able to handle going back to West Virginia.”

We both looked at the house. The lights were on and it was cozy, real and normal like in magazines. The squirrels were up high in the tree and we listened to them rustling around. It was getting dark and the cicadas were humming.

Rebekha came to the door and called us to come to supper. I felt bad I wasn’t helping. “We’re coming in a second, Rebekha,” I said.

“Take your time.” She went back inside.

I turned to see Miss Darla standing in her side yard with Sophia Loren. She was smiling, but it was a sad smile. I mind-said to her, “Miss Darla, I’m scared. Help me. I don’t know what to do. Everything is confusing me.”

Miss Darla mind-said, “Everything will work out how it is supposed to. You’re strong.”

Micah called out, “Hey, Miss Darla. What’s shakin’?”

“Hey, Micah. You handsome devil, you.” And they grinned at each other. She picked up Sophia and went back inside. He said, “That Miss Darla is an enigma. Something about her reminds me of Grandma Faith, but I can’t put my finger on it. I’m going to paint her before I leave. Maybe I’ll do a nude.”

I made a disgust face, then asked, “Miss Darla’s an enigma?”

“Yeah, like a mystery. Someone hard to figure out because they don’t act like you expect them to. They’re always doing the different thing.”

“Sounds like Momma.”

He looked hard at me. “Veestor, go to Momma to satisfy yourself she’s okay, then come right back. Don’t get whirly-brained ideas, you hear?”