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Authors: Jackie Weger

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BOOK: Finding Home
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He stiffened.
“That’s how your mind works, eh? Always hinting about suing decent folks. Maybe you ought to watch where you’re going? Maybe you ought to just go, period.”


Aim to,” Phoebe said before she pushed him beyond redemption. She scurried out the gate to work, leaving him standing like an unbending board.

The hairs on her neck prickled. He was watching her no doubt. There was no sense attempting the hip swaying. The mood he was in would leave the attempt wasted. She was going to have to do something about his attitude. Gage Morgan was getting less friendly by the hour.

At the crab house, she slipped into her chair and nodded to Essie. Stout piled crabs in front of her and Phoebe began picking. The crabs got smaller and smaller, harder to pick. It took longer to get up a pound. When Stout brought another batch of crabs, even smaller, Phoebe complained.


Hey. I want some of them big ones. I can’t make no money tryin’ to pull meat outta these bitty things.”


Last hired gets the littlest. Ain’t fair to the other pickers to give you the best.”


How long does a body have to work here afore she gets the big ones?”


Years,” smirked Stout.

This is my last day of crab picking,
Phoebe thought
.

At one o
’clock all the crabs had been picked. Phoebe collected ten dollars and eleven cents. While Hank was counting out the money she asked, “Who all do you buy crabs from?”


Anybody who wants to sell ‘em, as long as I get the entire catch. I don’t hold with a crabber skimming off the number one shippers and trying to pawn off seconds on me.”


If I was to bring you a batch of crabs, you’d buy ‘em?”


You going into the crab business regular?”


Plannin’ on it.”


Well, ice ‘em down and truck ‘em to the back door. I don’t pick up at the docks.”


I’ll truck ‘em,” said Phoebe. She returned Essie’s tools. “Thank you for the loanin’. If I stayed, I’m liable to use these on Stout.”

Essie grinned.
“Been many a day the rest of us had the same notion. Your boy got okay then?”


He’s better,” Phoebe acknowledged.


You planning on staying in Bayou La Batre?”


For the rest of my life,” Phoebe said with feeling, waving and turning away.


Then I’m sure to see you around,” Essie called, “Maybe at church.”

Phoebe stopped.
“You go to a good one?”


We like it. And there’s good programs for the kids winter and summer. Ain’t a big church though, workin’ folks if you know what I mean. We got a hand clappin’, fiddlin’ gospel choir, but ain’t got a single member what wears a fur.” She gave Phoebe directions to the church.

Phoebe strolled back to the junkyard stepping lively and high of spirit.

She’d made a new friend and had been invited to church. The gospel singing intrigued her. Maydean had a good voice. If she could get the twelve-year-old interested in music, mayhap it’d take her mind off boys.

She
’d decided to go into business for herself and had a buyer for her crabs—that is, once she learned how to catch the dern things. Like as not by the time Ma and Pa and Erlene got here she’d be well established in business for herself.

The only thing out of whack was that Ma would certainly look askance at her Phoebe being under the same roof as a m
an without there being an understanding between them.

Phoebe
pondered achieving an understanding with a man who had misunderstanding seeping from his pores at every word or gesture. It was as worrisome as trying to make a living. She knew what it would take: out and out seduction. Lor! What she knew for certain about seducing a man would fit on the head of a pin with room to spare. But she knew a woman had to use her body. Maybe even get naked.

Phoebe pictured herself
naked, saw her ribs, her knees.

Better to think about the crab business, she decided. Still, all the way back to the junkyard, she practiced a hip-swaying walk.

 

~~~~

 

T
he ironing board
was standing foursquare in the middle of the kitchen with Sunday clothes piled atop it unironed. There was no sign of Maydean, Dorie or Willie-Boy. Phoebe washed her face and hands at the sink then went to hunt them up. Maydean and Dorie were in the rusted-out shell of a car, Dorie behind the wheel, Maydean lurking at the mirror. Naturally. Phoebe’s exasperation peaked.


Where’s Willie-Boy and why ain’t you got the clothes sprinkled down?”

Maydean jerked.
“How come you’re home so early?”


Because I can’t trust you to do as you’re told around a corner, that’s why. Where’s your brother?”

Maydean sniffed.
“In the welding shed with Gage. He—”


Oh, Lor!”

Phoebe entered the welding shed with a stone-quiet face of resignation certain she marched to disaster. She discovered nothing
so cataclysmic as Gage grousing and running roughshod over Willie-Boy, for Willie-Boy was sitting on a stool and Gage was explaining the workings of a propeller. In her first start of surprise she didn’t speak.

Willie-Boy caught sight of her and began talking rapidly.
“I’m learning, Phoebe. Mr. Gage is teachin’ me all about propellers. When I grow up I’ll have a trade. Pa said I was to have a trade and—”


That’s nice,” she replied warily. “But you’re not supposed to be in here pestering Gage. He don’t like to be bothered while he’s working.”


I’m not pestering, I’m—”


The boy’s okay,” Gage said, acknowledging Phoebe’s presence, but only just. After slanting a glance at her, he turned back to polishing the giant blades.

All through her body Phoebe had a sense of good things, a feeling that
life was pleasant and easy. Mayhap she wouldn’t have to get naked to do her seducing. Gage’s attitude seemed to have improved all by itself. Outside of threatening her with eviction, indulging in drink and being only somewhat God fearing, he seemed to have a good streak in him.


I told Maydean to watch Willie-Boy. She should’ve.”


She was pickin’ on me. Mr. Gage said I could sit a spell with him. He said if I was to get out in the sun, you’d start up naggin’ at him again, but I told him you wasn’t mostly a nag, are you, Phoebe? It was only ‘cause you’re worried ‘cause Ma told you to find us a place ‘cause Aunt Vinnie is so mean to us. Ain’t that right?”

Phoebe
’s heart began to pound mightily. Lor! If Gage got it in his mind that there were more Hawleys yet to come she
would
have to do naked seduction. She couldn’t think of anything else that’d undo all the damage Willie-Boy had done in his five-year-old innocence. Gage’s profile was clear in her view. One whole side of his face was a smirk. Well, she could undo that without seduction. She reached into her change purse and withdrew three one dollar bills.


I told you I’d triple what I paid you yesterday. Here it is.” She thrust the cash toward him, satisfied when the smirk diminished. He accepted the money. One thing about Gage Morgan, Phoebe thought, he didn’t sneer at money. Still, there was enough snideness left in his expression that she felt obliged to add, “Hope you don’t go wastin’ that on drink. I worked hard to get it.”

His jaw worked.
“I spend my money the way I want. Though I suspect any man who hangs around you long enough is bound to end up a drunkard.”

Phoebe
’s jaw began to inch up.


I got to go to the bathroom,” said Willie-Boy, slipping from the stool and hurrying out.


I suspect you had a weakness for whiskey long before we met, Gage Morgan. Don’t go blamin’ it on me.”


I suspect you could make a living nagging the fur off a cat.”


Oh, I’m going to make a livin’ all right. At crabbin’. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.”

Gage smoked it. His mouth shaped a derisive grin.
“Got fired at the crab house? Told Hank how to run his business, did you?”

Phoebe could see in his eyes, in his expression how he was making him
self believe she’d had a comeuppance. She lifted her head with regal forbearance. “I resigned. I’m goin’ into business for myself. Come Monday, I’ll triple again what I paid you today.”

Gage scoffed.
“Going into business for yourself? Well, good, glad to hear it. That’ll improve my chances of collecting the debt you owe me. The way you’re paying now, I won’t be rid of you until the end of the next century.”

Phoebe
’s chin kept inching outward. “I got your number, mister. You think I don’t have brains to see it, but I do. You’ve been savin’ up your grousin’ since your wife died. Savin’ it up and just waitin’ for somebody you could bully. You picked the wrong body. I can give as good as I get.”


No man in his right mind would pick your body. Hah!”

Phoebe stepped into his space
and the pleasant man-smell of shop oil, sweat and soap filled her head with unnerving images that defied description. She determined to call them up and name them when she was alone and could study on it. The urgent task was to get Gage off the track of flesh and get him on track to his purse strings.


You got that wrong, G. G. Morgan. This body works. Every single part. A man in his right mind would appreciate that. He wouldn’t be worried about what sticks out or what’s covered up. A right-thinking man appreciates plumbing that works, figurin’ a healthy woman costs less. I got energy. I got enthusiasm. I got health. The man that gets me ain’t never gonna have to pay for medicine and doctors. Moreover, I ain’t got a cavity, not one. See.” Phoebe opened her mouth wide so he could see every gleaming tooth, and all the way down her gullet if his eyesight was regular.

What
Gage saw were dark green eyes with little lights behind them. Surprisingly sharp-colored for one so fair. “Get out of my face.” His voice held a slight huskiness.

Phoebe tossed her wealth of curls like a bright-crested bird preening feathers.

“Bloodshot and blind of eye. That’s you, Gage Morgan. So you can just quit makin’ vile references to my body parts. You’re just tryin’ to make yourself out better’n other folks. Well, you ain’t. All you are is a man livin’ smack dab in the middle of junk. You ain’t even got the price of pride enough to keep up your yard. It ain’t been mowed or swept since who knows when.


A smart man, which you ain’t, would sure keep his property tidy so as to increase its value.


A smart man, which you ain’t, would keep his eye on Phoebe Hawley, ‘cause I’m goin’ to be somebody. I’m goin’ to be a woman in business for herself. With a fat purse.” It sounded like boasting, but Phoebe didn’t care. Nor did she care that her chin was so outthrust, it would serve as saucer to a teacup.

Her breathless run-on speech
gave Gage time to regain some composure. “‘You could have a fatted calf and a tub of gold and you wouldn’t appeal to me.”

Phoebe clenched her teeth. He was still harping on body parts. He was
paying her back for what he considered an insult, but she couldn’t just let it pass. “You can’t hurt my feelings. You know why? You’re scared of me. I can tell.”

His
jaw dropped.


I used to think you had kissin’ lips. Now I don’t. Now I think you got flycatchers.”

Gage closed
his mouth, sputtering. “Get...get out of my shop. Stay away from me.”

Phoebe gave another toss of her head.
“I’m more than happy to oblige you.”

She sashayed toward the door, arms swinging and hips swaying.

“You can twitch your fanny all you want,” he called in loud hectoring sarcasm. “It won’t change my mind about you.”

Phoebe was at once fettered by excitement
. She stopped dead in her tracks. Practicing hip swaying had paid off! Warm with delight, she spun about, her face alight with a high-voltage glow. “I ain’t aimin’ to change your mind on any account. I’m
allowin’
for your opinion.” She put one hand on her waist and cocked a hip forward like she’d seen Vanna White do on
Wheel of Fortune.
“Supper’ll be late,” she sang out loftily. “I got to set out crab lines.”


Wrap one around your neck and use it for bait, why don’t you?”

Phoebe laughed.
“Why, ain’t
you
the witty one.” She lifted a hand. “See you at supper.”

Willie-Boy popped from around a stack of
weathered lumber and joined Phoebe on the path. “You mad at me?”

BOOK: Finding Home
13.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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