Tomato Girl (20 page)

For a moment, no one breathed. That is what happens when you see something you know is true, but cannot believe. The blood doesn't want to move through your veins. Your lungs don't want to take in the next breath. You forget to swallow and nearly choke on your own soft tongue.

At the grave, Mama fell on her knees and plunged her hands into the loose dirt. “I told you not to put my baby in the ground. You lied to me,” she yelled, looking at me, her eyes glassy and wide. Her hands scooped away dirt from Jellybean's grave. She spoke into the ground, softly, her voice quivering. “It's all right, baby. Mama hears you. Mama will take you from this dark hole.”

D
ADDY'S EYES NARROWED
into dark slits above his unshaven cheeks. His hands tightened on the shovel handle, stretching his knuckles white.

Mama pressed her face into the dirt, loose soil muffling her cries.

Daddy looked up and threw the shovel, hurling it high into the tree. It caught on a branch and dangled there, swinging back and forth.

“Why are you doing this, Julia? Why?” Daddy fell to his knees and leaned over Mama's body. He clenched his fists and spoke to the back of her head. “How much more of this do you think I can take?” Tears ran down Daddy's face.

I'd never seen my father so broken. No matter how Mama behaved, Daddy had always been the calm one. He and I had always worked together, handling her moods. We did the cooking and cleaning, and answered the door and telephone. We kept people far away when she had her spells, talked softly to her, and didn't argue or scold. What would happen if Daddy gave up?

Mama clawed at the grave where she thought we'd buried her
baby. She dug quickly, pawing the dirt with both hands the way a dog digs up a bone. “I just want my baby, Rupert,” Mama cried. “Why did you bury my baby?” Her face was caked with dirt.

“I don't know what you're talking about, Julia. I don't know what you mean!” Daddy's voice sounded more hopeless than angry.

“You do know, you all know.” Mama looked at each one of us; her accusing eyes moved from face to face. “Standing around here like you don't know you put my baby into the ground.” Then she looked back at Daddy, “You brought your whore into my house, and now you want to take my baby from me. I want him back, Rupert.” Her voice cracked as she spoke. “I want my son back!” Tears flowed down her face, leaving furrows on her dirty cheeks. Her trembling shoulders curled forward as she struggled to dig.

Tess and Mary Roberts stood under the crab apple tree, their faces pale. Tess chewed on her thumbnail, while Mary's knees turned inward like they do when she's afraid. Daddy hung his head, defeated by my mother's words. No one seemed to know what to say or do.

I knew. The baby wasn't a mystery to me.

Kneeling beside Mama, I whispered. “The baby isn't in the grave, Mama. Look, I'll show you.”

Her sobs quieted. A puzzled look crossed her face.

My hands shook as I dug into the cool, black dirt. Putting Jellybean into the ground was hard enough. Bringing him up from his grave to show Mama was almost more than I could stand, but I couldn't fail. Not this time. I kept digging.

When my fingers hit cardboard, I wiped the fine layer of soil away with the back of my hand, then opened the lid. “Here, Mama, look,” I said, scooping up my dead chick. His stiff little body felt light as I lifted him to my lips to kiss his head.

I still loved him, and could imagine how Mama felt losing her baby. But I knew Jellybean was gone for good and belonged in the ground. Mama didn't know how to let her baby go. Maybe she'd see Jellybean and understand.

“Jellybean drowned,” I explained, handing her the chick. “It's Jellybean we buried, not your baby. Your baby is still safe. He's in the same place you told me to lay him, sleeping like an angel.”

“What the hell?” My father's eyebrows knitted together as he tried to make sense of what he heard and saw.

Mama smiled a little, rubbing Jellybean's dead body. Her hands smudged his clean body with dirt.

I wanted to cry.

I wanted to take him away from her.

“Oh, Ellie,” Mama said, her bottom lip quivering. “You lost your baby.”

I swallowed hard. “Yes, I lost my baby.”

Mama turned her head to look at Tess. “You! You came to my house and cursed it! You, you baby killer!”

Tess trembled under my mother's words. “I'm not a baby killer!” she screamed. “Jellybean was an accident. I didn't mean for him to drown. You're nothing but a crazy woman, and you want to drive everybody else crazy!” Tess spat words in a shrill, shaky voice.

“Tess, don't,” my father's voice snapped.

Tess broke into tears. She wasn't used to my father speaking harshly to her. She hid her face in her hands and ran toward the house.

“I'll be right back,” Daddy said. He stood up and followed Tess inside, leaving Mary, Mama, and me alone.

With each step he took, I felt my heart sink lower in my chest. I wanted to call after him, “Please, Daddy, stay with us. Mama needs you. I need you.” I kept quiet, though. I knew what he'd say, and wasn't ready to hear those words.

Mama pressed Jellybean to her breast and hummed. She looked at Mary and offered a half smile. “That's a lovely dress you're wearing today, Miss Mary.”

Up until then, Mary hadn't said anything. When she finally spoke, her words stuck to her tongue. “Th-thank you, Mrs. S-an-Sanders.”

“I'm sorry I look such a mess, Mary. I haven't been well, you know.”

Mary nodded. “Ellie t-told m-me about your f-fall.” I hadn't heard Mary stutter since first grade.

“Oh, yes. And I meant to thank you for the lovely cake.” Mama combed her fingers through her hair, tucking a tangled strand behind her ear. “You will tell your mother how much I appreciated it, won't you?” Mama suddenly laughed, then covered her mouth with her hand. “Your mother is an amazing baker,” Mama said, her voice too loud and high pitched.

“I'll t-t-tell her,” Mary struggled to speak. “Do-do you want m-me to br-bring you the r-recipe?”

“How nice. Yes, I'd like that, Mary.” Mama giggled again.

Mary looked down at her leather T-straps. She seemed not to know what else to say. “I g-guess I sh-should be going h-h-home now.”

Mama smoothed the front of her gown as if trying to appear more presentable. She looked at Mary, then paused. Her eyebrows raised as she spoke. “Mary, would you like to see my baby before you go?”

Mary stuttered, “W-well, uh, well, yes, I g-g-uess so.” You could tell from Mary's voice that she didn't want to see the baby. Her words came out flat and tight. It's only a matter of habit that when a grown-up offers to show you something, you agree to look.

Mama looked at me and smiled. “Ellie, be a good girl, and take Mary to the cellar to see the new baby.”

M
ARY AND
I
HELD HANDS
as we walked down the basement stairs. I didn't want to leave Mama alone, but I knew she'd only become angry if I didn't take Mary to see the baby. By the way she'd laughed and played with her hair, I wasn't sure about Mama's mood or which direction it might take.

“Does your mother really have a b-baby down here?” Mary asked. Away from Mama, Mary's stutter was not as bad.

“Yes, but it almost doesn't look like a baby.”

“What happened to it?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

The air at the bottom of the stairwell felt cool and damp.

I held the door open for Mary. “She was bleeding. It died inside her somehow, and came out dead. She wouldn't let me tell Daddy or even call a doctor.”

Mary stepped inside and reached for the light switch on the wall. The bright bulb burned overhead.

“Why didn't she bury it? A b-ba-baby should have a funeral, Ellie.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “In a way, Mama seems to know it's dead. She cried, and didn't want Daddy to know. But another part of her doesn't believe the baby is gone. She thinks it's safe here, but then she worries about it being cold and afraid in the dark. I know it doesn't make sense.”

“This gives me the creeps,” Mary said.

“It gives me the creeps, too, but I don't know what to do.”

Mary didn't answer, having finally come up against a problem she didn't know how to solve any better than I did.

I felt grateful that she'd agreed to come with me. I'm not sure I could have been so brave if it had been Mrs. Roberts's dead baby in the cellar. I patted her shoulder. “You don't really have to look at the baby if you don't want to.”

“I think I'll go home now,” Mary said. She turned around and walked back upstairs. The door shut behind her.

I sat cross-legged on the cold floor and sucked my thumb. It still fit perfectly in my mouth. My skin tasted like dirt from digging up the grave, but the feel of my thumb against the roof of my mouth comforted me, and I needed comforting now more than ever.
Mary probably won't want to be friends anymore,
I thought. Who would want a friend whose mother keeps a dead baby in the freezer?

No one. Not a girl like Mary Roberts, that was for sure. She could do better.

She'd tell her mother, who'd tell the whole town, and everybody would point at me and say, “There goes the girl with the crazy mother.” I'd be laughed at like the retarded boy at school. I'd be the girl nobody wants to sit next to, the girl who never gets a valentine, the girl nobody picks to play games with.

In my whole life, I'd never felt so alone.

I curled up in the corner and closed my eyes. For once, I wasn't afraid of what bad dreams might come while I slept. I knew now that bad dreams can find you even when you're awake.

I
WOKE TO SOMEONE
knocking on the cellar door. I thought maybe Mama had wandered down the stairs to see the baby, too.

“Ellie?” a girl called my name.

Was I still dreaming?

“Mary?” Mary had come back. I hurried to my feet and opened the cellar door wide. “Mary!”

She smiled and held up a Mason jar filled with clear liquid. “Here,” she said.

“A jar of water?” I didn't quite know what to say. Still, she'd come back when she didn't have to, so I pretended to be pleased. “Thank you.”

Mary smiled and sat down on the floor. “No, silly. It's not water. It's formaldehyde.”

“Formaldehyde?” I felt even more confused as I sat next to Mary.

Mary nodded. “Remember my brother's biology set? The jars he keeps on his bookshelf?”

“The ones with the crayfish and fetal pig?” Remembering the stiff little creatures made my skin prickle.

“Right. He has a black snake now, too; its skin is partly shed. And there's a toad with one mashed leg from when we ran over him with the wheelbarrow. Anyhow, I emptied out the formaldehyde, then put water in so my brother wouldn't know.”

“What do I need it for?”

Mary rolled her eyes. “For your mother's baby, of course. I brought enough for Jellybean, too, if you want to keep him.”

I shook my head. “No. I don't want to keep Jellybean in a jar.” The idea of my sweet little chick floating in formaldehyde made my throat tighten.

“What about your mother's baby?”

“I don't know, Mary. A baby in a jar?”

“Well, if she wants to keep it, a jar is better than the freezer.”

Mary had a point. Besides, I was so happy that Mary was still my friend that at the moment I would have agreed to anything. “Sure, I guess so,” I said, although I was anything but sure.

“If your mother doesn't like it, we can bring him back to the freezer.”

I nodded. The idea of unwrapping the dead baby and putting him inside the jar made my stomach feel funny, but I figured it couldn't be any worse than what I'd been through already. Besides, I didn't know what Daddy might do about the baby in the freezer. What if he decided to throw the baby away? Or what if he insisted on burying the baby in the backyard? I didn't want to imagine how Mama might react. At least in a jar, I could hide the baby in different places.

“Are you scared?” Mary asked.

“Yes. But I'm glad you came back.”

As it turned out, Mary had been far more afraid of my mother than the dead baby. Her hands shook a little as she held the jar for me, but she didn't stutter the way she had around Mama. “I
never knew your mother acted that way. I mean, I knew she was different than most mothers, and sometimes did unusual things, but never anything like this.”

“She has spells, Mary. She cries a lot for no reason, or for little things like spilled pepper. Sometimes she stares out the window, just looking at the same piece of sky. She says strange things, and sometimes she tries to hurt herself.”

“What's the matter with her?”

“Nothing is the matter with her,” I said, but I knew I was lying. Something was terribly wrong with my mother; I just didn't know how to explain.

“Then why did she put the baby in the freezer?”

“I don't know why. Most of the time, she's not like you saw her today. Only sometimes.”

“She's been this way before?”

“Yeah, but never so bad as this. Tess makes it worse, and then the baby dying …”

“Does your Daddy really love Tess?”

“I don't know.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I'm afraid of Tess staying here much longer. I don't think Mama can take her being here. But I don't know what Daddy will do if she leaves, and I don't think Tess can even go back home.”

“Why not?”

“Because when she has seizures, her father does dirty things to her.”

Mary scrunched up her face. “Yuck.”

“I know. Because of that, Daddy won't let Tess leave. He was so angry when Tess told him, he swore he was going to kill Mr. Reed.”