Deep in the Heart of Me (9 page)

"Your face looks better," she says, looking up at me. "Whoops, I just painted a spider. Forever more he's immortalized in the whitewash."

I have been looking down at her too much. My neck is starting to throb but…immortalized in the whitewash? Girls.

"You look like your mother you know," she says.

There I go looking down at her again. Is that a good thing in her eyes?

And she is laughing at me, all the time. It's just her way, I think, being happy.

"You don't talk much," she says. She is not looking at me now, she's painting.

I can talk a lot if I get going. When I'm in the mood. I just don't know what to say yet. I have questions. Like, where is her mother? Like where did she live before this? Does she like it here?

Does she like me?

She seems to.

I clear my throat. "Do you like horses?"

She starts to giggle. "I like your horse."

She has said that already. I guess when you've got a fine new Ford to tool around in you don't have to give horses a thought.

Now I don't know what else to say. It's like I have no imagination or something.

"We're making good progress," she says.

I haven't checked on the others. Tillo never did come looking for his bucket, but Joseph has told me he's working. I know he can work if he wants to. But he's a lazy cuss by nature.

I slap the horse-hair at the last bits in my bucket and finish the eave. Then I climb down. "Time to eat," I say.

"Oh. I didn't bring anything," she says standing. She has paint on her cheek and speckles on her nose.

"You can share. I mean I can. We can." I turn from her and close my eyes. What am I saying?

I go for Joseph's knapsack to see what he brought us. Apples of course, but there is only one. All the apples we have at the house, and he brings one?

She is beside me, and I hand it to her. "Is it your only one?" she says.

"It's all right. You can have it."

"No. We'll share."

"I don't want it."

"But, I'll take the first bite, and you can have the second. Like that."

"Here," I say taking the apple. I get my knife out of my pocket, pull the blade from the bone handle. I slice the apple in half and tell her to hold one piece while I put away the larger blade and pull the smaller slender one. I proceed to cut a circle around the core and remove it. I hand her that coreless half and take the other and do the same to it.

"Thank you Tonio," she says sinking her straight white teeth into the flesh. It makes a crisp sound and I don't know when I've been so happy to do this. Happier than when I do it for Pee-Wee.

She smiles at me. "It's very sweet," she says chewing. Then, "Aren't you going to eat yours?"

Of course, I am, I was just…watching her for a minute.

I slice mine and eat it off the knife.

"Did you ever kill anything with it?"

"Huh?"

"With your knife."

I have, but I'm not going to tell her about it. I don't think I am.

I still hold two bowl-shaped sections of core. "Watch this," I say, and I walk over to Tibby, and she follows me. I hold my palm to Tibby's mouth, and she noisily crunches the treat.

"Her teeth are so big," Sobe says.

"She's a horse."

"Are you afraid of her?"

"Of Tibby?" I frown.

"Do you have a sweetheart?"

What? I stare at her again. She is serious.

"Elsie says…."

"Don't talk to her about me," I say, and it's too stern. I just meant…don't talk about me.

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right. I…don't have a …."

"Elsie says…well, I'm sorry, but you're her brother. She said girls go sweet on you all the time. Even in first grade."

"I don't like them," I say. I don't like them?

"Oh. Well…you're not afraid of anything, are you?"

"I don't know. No."

"I think you're brave. The bravest boy I know."

I go to the sack to see what else my brother brought us. Biscuits and bacon. In a clean cloth, there are four. Two each. I give one to Sobe.

"But…is there enough?"

"Yes," I say. I like giving her this.

"You are brave," she repeats.

"Sometimes," I say just because I should say something.

"Not always?"

I think of the dream where I couldn't breathe. "I don't know. Dad says…I have to think before I do something." I'm not saying it right. I mean…I'm learning to think. Maybe not first, but eventually.

"I don't have a beau."

I am looking intently. I can't believe she just blurts things. "Have you? Had one?" I don't want her to be fickle. If she is…I don't know what I'll do about it.

"Lots of them. In Springfield. I was glad we moved away."

Lots of them? I don't care for that. I guess she is fickle then. Well, maybe she couldn't help it. Dad said Mom had many suitors wanting her hand. I guess when you're beautiful. And Sobe is.

"You're from that big town?"

"City," she laughs. "Me and Abraham Lincoln."

"He's not from there," I correct.

"Well, in 1844 he was," she answers taking a bite of her biscuit.

"Why did you leave?'

"My dad. He thought it would be better."

"Is it? Better?" I also take a bite of my dinner.

She swallows and licks her lips. "This is so good!"

"Mom. She makes the biscuits."

Sobe licks her paint splattered fingers. "So good."

"Is it better?" I repeat.

She shrugs and takes another big bite. "Yes."

"Do you have…family, here?"

She swallows. "No."

"Where are they? Your family."

She holds the last bite before her lips. "Just Dad." Then she pops that last bit in and chews. She is girlish in the way she eats. Proper. She is better than me. Than mine. Maman has manners, and the girls, they are not quite like Sobe.

"You look at me," she grins.

I look away, at the trees.

"You can," she says. "It's not a sin."

"A sin?" I say, and I might be embarrassed now.

"Do you like to look at me or something?" she says.

I can't believe she's asking.

"Why do you say I'm brave?" I ask.

"You stood up to the teachers and to those boys."

"Your dad is sheriff."

"But he has a gun. You just have…you," she says.

I also have my knife. And I have my fists and my wits. I am brave. It's my job.

"You stood to Ned," I say.

She just shakes her head.

I don't like her being hard against herself.

She looks at me then. "It's because of you, Antonio. You make me brave."

Her eyes are deep and something…pretty but…there's gold or something bright. I don't know what I'm feeling. But it gets in me then. Something. For Sobe.

She decides we must get back to work, and I must check on the others. Tillo has made much progress for all he was late. We've got nothing good to say to one another. Utz works with him instead of where I said to work and I'm ready to be mad, but Utz has given a good start to the side he'd been on before Tillo arrived. And others are arriving to help, members of the school board and some of their sons. Soon we all have extra hands, and Sobe and me, are able to turn the rest of our side to new helpers while we move to aid Joseph. It's supper time when we finish.

I wash our brushes in turpentine and wrap them in cloth. Joseph is taking them home, even Sobe's. She insists she doesn't want the smelly thing. She'd found it in the basement of her house.

"I'll ride you on Tibby," I tell Sobe. Since she's a townie, she lives close. I've been in her house many times when Daniel lived there.

I pull to the rail for tying horses and buggies, and she scrambles there, and I give her my hand, and she gets on behind me. There is no saddle, just a blanket. Tibby works hard, and I didn't want her to stand in saddle, all day. But her back is wide, and she's gentle.

Sobe is behind me, but she is close. I move Tibby from the rail, and I feel Sobe's hands clutch at my sides.

"She's tall," Sobe says. She scoots closer. I am dizzy for a moment. I have ridden like this almost soon as I could walk, but it is different with Sobe.

I'm stealing time from chores, but I've no regrets. People might see us and think we're sweethearts, but I can't fix that.

Dad will be setting the cans about now. Ebbie is there and Shaun. I'm guilty, but the damn farm pulls at me my whole life. It wants every part of me.

Sobe takes her hand away and brushes at my shoulder. "A grasshopper," she says.

I wait for her hand to return to me, and it does.

We are too soon at Sobe's house. I must get home, but I don't want it to be over with her.

"How do I get off?" she asks meaning how does she get off this tall horse.

"I will hold your hands," I say turning around, "and slide you down."

I do that. She is light, but I am sore, but I know how to hold weight even when I hurt, and I'd never let her fall, not in a million years.

I slowly lower her to her feet, and she lets go of my hands. "Thank you," she says looking up at me. "I would offer you supper, but I'm a terrible cook."

"You should come to the farm. Elsie will show you," I offer.

"She says that. She invited me today…but…." She holds up her small hands and spreads her fingers.

It makes me smile. Her hands are ruined with paint.

"Turpentine," I say.

She breathes in. "Tonio…I will see you tomorrow at church."

"You're Protestant?"

"Yes," she says.

"You will then," I say.

"I have invited Elsie to sit with Dad and me. She's asking your mother today." Then she snatches the hat from her head.

"Oh, and this."

I stay on Tibby to make myself go home. I reach for the hat, and she keeps hold, so both of us hold it now.

"Tonio…I meant what I said. You make me brave."

I pull the hat free so I can straighten. I put it on my head now.

"It looks better on you," she says with a big smile.

"Are you scared of something?" I ask.

She grows serious.

"The bogeyman?" I say, but she does not smile. Matter of fact I see tears.

"Tonio…I didn't have lots of beaus. I…don't know why I said it. I…wanted you to think…I wanted you to think I was…normal."

I'm of two minds. Ride off. Or get off.

My leg swings over Tibby's neck and my boots hit the ground. I keep the reins and thread them over Tibby's head as I round her nose. I am facing Sobe now. She is sniffling.

"I lie, all right Tonio? I'm a liar." There are more tears now, angry ones.

I don't know what to say. "The good book says all men are liars. Only God is true."

She sniffs and wipes her nose on the big jacket. "I'm mad at God. Oh, I'll go to church all right, and wear my new dress and look all nice. But inside I'm shaking my fist at Him."

"At God?" I say. And she claims she's not brave.

She doesn't answer, and that's probably best. I don't know what blasphemy is, but I'm thinking about it right now, and that's not good.

"I get tired of being good sometimes," she says, so sincerely I nearly step closer.

"Sobe…will you tell me the truth from here on?"

She looks at me, and I'm not blind to the hope I see there. "From here on I will Tonio. I promise." She crosses her heart.

I can't keep looking at her. It wouldn't be right to touch her, and I don't know what to do with the wanting I feel.

I look at the house, and I see no evidence that her father is home.

She sees me looking at the dark house, and she takes steps toward it. "Well, if you could wait a minute, I'll see that the house is good and empty. Could you do that Tonio?"

"Sobe," I say, "are you scared to go in there?"

"No." She closes her eyes. "Yes."

For heaven sakes. I tie Tibby to the gate, and I walk ahead of her. It's dusk but there is still light, and nothing ever happens around here.

"Let me look," I say. I do not do this for my brothers and sisters. If they are scared, I tell them to stop being foolish.

Especially, Joseph, I'm hardest on him. But Sobe's fear is something else. That's all I know.

I get to the door, and she is behind me. I go in, and the house smells different than ours. It's stuffy and…lifeless. Even when Daniel lived here, it was welcoming at least with the old grandmother.

Oh, there are nice things. I see that right off. But no…heart? Echoes. I don't even know if our house…echoes.

I walk through the rooms, the wood floors creaking under my boots. She has a piano.

"Yes, I play, but not very well," she says.

"My mother plays…she did." Maman's hands, she says they are not what they used to be.

"I'll go up and look," she says. "Will you wait while I do?"

I nod, and we go back to the hall, and she takes off the big coat and hangs it on the hall tree. She smiles at me as she passes but it's not her mischievous smile, it's sad. She is cute in the britches, and her form is very small, but…what am I thinking. I watch her go up and try not to have an opinion.

I hear her light step overhead, and she is quickly coming back down. "It's fine," she says.

"Are you alone so much?" I say. I can't imagine being so alone. All the time alone. I envy it, and I don't.

I hear a car stop out in the street.

"That's Dad," she says, and there's relief in her voice.

It occurs to me now. I'm alone in his house with his daughter. If I came on this, if I were him, I wouldn't like it.

She steps around me and opens the door. She is blocking me from leaving, and I want very much to go.

But I am brave. She said so. I pull off my hat. I should have done that before. But now I remember. Now I think of it.

I am making that hat go round and round in my hands as he brings his poker face up the walk and into the house.

"That's that mare of your father's," he says.

"Yes, Sir," I say. I'm not a horse-thief.

"And what's all this then?" he says, eyes on her.

He is taking in his daughter, paint-splattered and eager as she seems. If he tries to punch me, I hope he goes for my chin and not my nose.

"Tonio was looking through the rooms…I was…it's nearly dark," she says.

He looks to me, up and down, then back to her. "You've been painting," he says.

"I asked you…," she says.

"I know. I know." He puts his hand on Sobe's shoulder. "I may be working, but I always know where you are."

He says this to me. About her. Or himself.

I don't have a word to say back.

"Did you finish then?" he says.

"Yes, Sir."

"Good enough. Are you going back to school?"

"Yes, Sir. Come Monday. Until butchering. Then…."

"You will come back, won't you?" Sobe says to me.

The sheriff is watching me the way I watch game before I shoot.

I don't know yet. My father…well I'm walking a line here, a catgut line.

He takes his hand from Sobe's shoulder and extends it to shake mine. Mine are not as sore as they were and anyway, Dad would kill me if I gave a weak hand to anyone, so I take his firmly, paint and scabbed knuckles and palm and fingers like leather, and I shake it like I mean it.

Sheriff laughs. "A grip you boys got."

Well, I'm no sissy.

"I'll walk you out," he says.

I look quickly at Sobe. She smiles, and I see sympathy.

Oh, here it comes.