Beyond Summer (35 page)

She folded herself harder over whatever she was carrying. I leaned to one side to see, just in case it was a weapon or something I should be worried about. A backpack. It was only her backpack. The same one she kept with her during reading classes, like she was afraid someone would steal the nasty old thing, or she needed to be ready for a quick getaway.

“I can walk here,” she said again. “The police, they know I can walk here.” Her voice was rushed and breathless, nervous, her accent blending the words together in a smooth string.

“Who said anything about the police?” Did she think I was accusing her of doing something wrong? I remembered what Terence had said about the street people.
Most of them are harmless. They’re just afraid, you know? It’s not easy when nobody wants you around. You don’t know what it’s like, living on the street, until you’ve been there
.

“It was no harm to the car. No damage. I am not a thief.” She swayed in place, like she was thinking about taking a step forward, wondering what I’d do if she tried to leave. The muscles in her thin, brown calves tensed and loosened under her leathery skin.

Ty held the front of his shorts tighter and whined, “Mommy, I ga go.”

I squeezed his hand. If I took him to the bathroom now, the woman would disappear. No telling when I’d see her again—since she thought I was accusing her of something, probably never. “Look, I wasn’t saying you did anything wrong. You probably saved Elsie’s life. The paramedics told us if she’d been in there a couple more hours, it could’ve been seriously bad. I saw her car in the driveway this morning, and it seemed strange, but I just didn’t think much about it. How’d you know something was wrong?”

She cut a quick glance over her shoulder, like she had a big dog behind her and she was trying to figure out whether it was friendly or not. “The houses tell things. And the clothes. You can hear them, if you listen.”

Benji twisted to check out the houses behind us, like he was wondering why they never talked to him.

“Oh . . .”
Maybe she really is mental, after all.
“I just wondered how you knew, that’s all.”

She took two steps. One. Two. Slowly, in a circle toward me. Her eyes, cloudy black dots nearly hidden in folds of skin polished like shoe leather, checked me out from behind dreadlocks dusted gray and white. “It is quiet this morning when I am passing by. No television.”

“At Elsie’s house?”

She nodded. “The window is covered where she sits in her chair. No sun can come in, and she cannot see the street. She will always watch the street from her chair.”

“Ohhh,” I breathed, feeling like a horrible neighbor. The house
was
different this morning. There were no signs of Elsie’s routine—TV on before seven, front window blind open by the time the sun hit the porch. I’d sort of noticed, but I had my mind on my own issues, and I never gave her another thought. It was weird to think that this homeless woman, this person who wandered our street, paid more attention than I did. If she hadn’t been watching, Elsie could’ve died right there in her garage. “You did a good thing, you know.”

She shifted another step, cocked her head, and looked at me curiously, like she was waiting for me to say something more.

Ty tugged my hand. “Momm-eee!”

I glanced over my shoulder toward my house, then Elsie’s. The blind was up now. I could see a shadow figure of Elsie, still sitting in her chair where the paramedics left her. “Do you want to come eat a hot dog with us?” The question was out of my mouth and into the air before I knew it was coming. I felt the woman watching me as I turned around again. Her name popped into my mind. Sesay. I’d told Terence I wanted to find out about her. If I really did, here was my chance. “We’re getting ready to have a picnic. . . .” I thumbed over my shoulder. “In the backyard.” Her gaze flicked toward the yard. My mouth just kept right on sprinting ahead of my brain, which was nothing new. “We’re not doing anything fancy. Just hot dogs, chips, and some cookies the boys and me baked earlier, but . . .”

“Momm-eee! I ga go.” Ty was close to tears. It wasn’t fair to make him wait any longer.

I let go of Benjamin’s hand and scooped Ty up, so he wouldn’t have to walk. “We’ll be out back . . . in the yard. Give me a sec to go in and take him to the potty, and then we’ll be there. Just come on around to the side gate, okay?” I didn’t wait for an answer. Ty was working so hard to hold it, his face was turning red, and there wasn’t much choice but to turn around, grab Benji, and make a run for it.

My brain caught up with me the minute I had Ty safely on the step stool with his shorts down and his body aimed in the right direction.
What in the world were you thinking, inviting some homeless woman to come share a picnic?
When Cody, Mr. Master-of-Gory-Police-Stories, heard about this, he’d have a cow. If my mother or Cody’s parents ever heard about it, they’d ship me off and take my kids back to Oklahoma so fast Cody wouldn’t even know what hit him.

She’s harmless, though; Terence says she’s harmless. . . .
I could already picture myself defending this little stupid Shasta trick when Cody found out about it.
Geez, Shas, where does your brain go sometimes?
he’d say. Maybe I didn’t need to be somebody’s mother. I should’ve been thinking first about the kids and keeping them safe.

She probably won’t come.
I peeked out the front window, but I couldn’t see anyone.
She probably thinks you’re nuts, too.

Just in case, I texted Tam and told her to hurry up and get over here.
Invited the voodoo lady
, I blurted out in rapid thumb strokes.

Tam was shocked textless, which just proved she had more brains than I did. All she could do was send a line of question marks.

Impulse
, I sent back.
Explain later.

The stepmonster?
I’d noticed that Barbie was actually in the yard with them when I ran over there during the Elsie incident, but this was too much. Barbie coming to the picnic instead of heading out with her party buddy?

Impulse
, Tam texted back.
Aunt Lute coming, too.

Full house, LOL.
I wondered who was crazier—Aunt Lute, the voodoo lady, or me. It’d be a close contest.

Benjamin raced by with a plastic basket full of toy cars as I closed the phone and tucked it into my pocket. “I’m goin’ outside!” I heard him trying to work the dead bolt to get out the back door.

“N’ goin’ outsigh!” Ty was a half step behind Benji, running bow-legged while trying to drag his shorts over his bare rear end.

“Hang on a minute!” The sharp edge of my voice froze them both in the laundry room. No way were they going out there without me. “Let’s get the food and carry it to the picnic table. Then we’ll worry about the toys.”

The boys did an about-face. I handed out the supplies while they jittered and backed toward the door; then I went through the picnic checklist in my head before turning the lock and peeking into the yard.

It looked empty. Maybe Sesay was waiting at the gate. Part of me hoped she would come, and part of me hoped she wouldn’t.

Benjamin plopped the tray of hot-dog buns and chips on the back porch table and took off as I was hip-butting the door out of the way so Ty could get out with the punch bottle he was hugging.

“I’m gonna go let the lady in!” Benji called back.

“No, Benji, wait!” I swiveled, and the weenies rolled to one side of the platter, almost tumbling off before I could catch them.

Ty dropped the punch bottle like a hot potato and took off after his brother.

The weenies rolled to the other side of the platter while I rescued the punch bottle. The phone rang in my pocket.

By the time I’d stopped the weenie roll, set down the platter, and grabbed the phone, my boys were leading the voodoo lady into the yard like she was the Easter bunny dropping by for a visit.

I answered the phone and, of all people, it was my mother. Talk about bad timing. After “Hello,” she went right into, “Well, I thought I’d better call, since we haven’t heard your voice in weeks now. I know you don’t want to use up your cell minutes, but once in a while, Shasta, you could pick up the phone and call. If it weren’t for an e-mail every once in a while I’d think you had dropped off the face of the earth.”

“No, Mama, we’re fine.” Of all the times for her to decide to end the war of who was going to call first, she had to pick now. “We’ve just been busy, that’s all.” I knew I should start out by telling her about the house, but if I did, I’d get a full-blown lecture, and I didn’t have time for it. If I didn’t tell her, the boys would spill it as soon as I put them on the phone. “Mama, can we call you back later on? We’ve got some neighbors over and we’re about to grill hot dogs.”

“Neighbors?” Mama repeated suspiciously. Right after we’d moved to Dallas, I’d let it slip that the boys didn’t need to be hanging around anybody who lived in those nasty apartments. “I’ll be at work later. Night shift tonight. Let me talk to my babies real quick.”

I watched the boys lead Sesay to the shed to show her their dirt pile. She picked up a stick and drew something in the sand. If I put either of them on the phone, who knew what they’d blab. In three-point-five hours, Mama would show up at my doorstep, ready to see what kind of a mess we’d gotten ourselves into. She’d be sure this was just like when we jumped into getting the trailer. “They’re all the way at the other end of the yard.”

“Yard?”

Shoot! Wake up, Shasta.
“I mean the park. We’re at the park. With some other . . . families . . . from Cody’s class.” There’s something really pitiful when you have kids of your own and you’re still lying to your parents. “It’s a long story, Mama. I’ll tell you later, okay? I don’t think either of the boys could stand still and talk on the phone right now. They’re busy having fun.” That came out exactly wrong, and Mama made a throaty sound that let me know it right away.

“I didn’t realize talking to their
grandma
was such a burden.” When she was in a mood like this, nothing I could say would be right. This was totally not the time to tell her about the house.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Mama. Of course they want to talk to you. They ask about you all the time.”

“Then you’d think you could call once in a while.”

I sighed, frustrated, trying to keep an eye on things as Sesay and the boys headed around the side of the house. Tam’s brothers were making a racket at the gate. “I’ve been trying not to run up the cell minutes, remember? Cody’s after me to save money.”

“Well, I told you everything in Dallas would cost more than you thought. Those ads make it sound like the jobs bring big money up there, but when you get to paying for things, it’s all gone quicker than you can say
flat broke
. Honestly, Shasta, Cody’d be so much better off back here at the Push County Sheriff’s Department. Y’all could maybe even get into a house here. Luanne Wright has hers for sale. She’s moving into the nursing home. I dropped by and looked at the place yesterday, and . . .” Mama went on as Tam’s brothers bolted into the yard, then scattered, all giggles and squeals while they whipped each other with long stalks of grass they’d picked from the fence. Sesay stepped out of their way, watching as Tam rounded the corner. Aunt Lute was behind her, along with, major surprise, the stepmother, who was carrying my favorite baby girl.

“Mama”—I jumped into Mama’s description of Luanne’s house for sale. Three bedrooms, and the cutest little bathroom, all redone—“Mama . . . I should probably go, okay? I’ll call you later on.”

Mama answered with a loud huff. “You’d better, Shasta Marie, and if you don’t, my feelings are going to be hurt. I know there’s a lot going on here, with your cousin building that new house and having a big church wedding, but that’s no excuse for you to sulk.”

“I’m not sulking, Mama.”

Setting a plate of carrot sticks and dip on the table, Tam raised an eyebrow at me. Beside her, the stepmonster pretended not to hear me arguing with Mama on the phone.

“Well, it sure seems like it.” Mama’s voice quavered, close to tears. No matter how much I wanted to, it seemed like I’d never find a way to break free without hurting her. “Used to be there wasn’t a day went by, you didn’t call two or three times, and that was when y’all were living right down the road, for heaven’s sake.”

I’m trying to grow up.
“There just hasn’t been much to call about. Things’ve been pretty tame, and besides, like I said, we’re trying to save the cell minutes. E-mail’s free.”

“Do you two need money? Is that the problem? Because if you need money for the phone bill, Shasta Marie, I can . . .”

“We don’t need money, Mama.” I felt myself being reeled in like a pet puppy on a string, pulled to a place that was easy and familiar, where someone would pat me on the head and feed me Milk-Bones. If I let myself, I’d end up right back where I started from, a kid having kids, letting my mama raise us all when she should of been doing what she wanted. If she hadn’t been putting her time and money into us, she could of traveled, or fixed up her place, or bought that convertible Ford Mustang she always wanted. She could put the top down and drive around town with the wind in her hair, and give all the other ladies at the hospital something to talk about. “Don’t worry about us, okay? We’re gonna do this ourselves.” Blood prickled into my cheeks, and I felt everyone listening while they politely arranged picnic food and pretended not to hear.

Tam thumbed toward Elsie’s house and whispered, “I’ll run over and see about Elsie, ’kay?”

I nodded and Tam disappeared, seeming glad to escape the Mama conversation. Tam’s aunt and stepmother walked a few steps away and pretended to admire the hollyhocks.

“There’s just no point in being too proud, Shasta.” Mama knew there was a secret I wasn’t telling her. Sometimes it was like she had ears in my brain.