Hello Loved Ones (14 page)

Sort of like what her own mother was trying to do by sending her to the banquet with the pastor.

“Would you like to go, Mandy?” Nell asked gently, leaning toward the girl.

“She don’t know what she wants,” Mrs. Veenstra said.

Nell frowned. “Last week you said—”

“I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m not sure I like the idea of her going to church. I don’t want her brainwashed or nothing like that.”

“Oh,
please
,” Sally said. “
I’m
going, aren’t I?”

Mrs. Veenstra looked at her coolly, her nose in the air. “Still grounded?”

Sally was tempted to call her another name. Super-bitch, maybe. But the last thing she needed was another punishment, so she only smiled.

“Aren’t you working today?” Sally asked. Mrs. Veenstra was the beautician at the Restful Slumber funeral parlor.

“I’ve got two heads this afternoon. Hair only.”

“You’ll be needing us to take Mandy then.”

“She can always come along with me. She sits quiet in the corner while I work.”

“Scared stiff,” Sally muttered. Nell gave her a mortified look.

“Is that a crack about the departed?” Mrs. Veenstra snapped. “Because that is not respectful.”

Sally sighed. “I’m going.”

“Wait.” Nell turned to Mrs. Veenstra. “I’m sure Mandy will enjoy Bible School. We do lots of fun stuff, like draw and sing, and today we’re making...”

Sally stopped at the edge of the yard. She couldn’t stand hearing Nell talk in that sniveling way. She would never be a sniveler. It was probably a rule. No snivelers allowed on Greyhound buses.

“We’ll have her until three,” Sally interrupted loudly. “You can take the day for yourself. Get someone to do your hair, maybe.”

Mrs. Veenstra stood straighter. “I don’t let anyone touch my hair,” she said. “I do it myself.”

“Your nails then. There’s a new manicurist down at Swanky. My Aunt Flookie says she’s the best and she ought to know. You’ve seen Flookie’s nails.”

Mrs. Veenstra pointed at Nell. “You should talk to your mother about her. She’s very rude.” Then she held her hands out, examining them.

“Go on, then,” she said after a moment. She reached for Mandy and pulled her away from the door. “Don’t make them sorry they asked you.”

They all watched Mandy come out silently and descend the stairs with slow perfect steps. She moved like a bride down the aisle, step together, step together, making sure both feet touched each stair. Sally might have laughed —it was comical, wasn’t it? A girl trying so hard to be prissy —but she didn’t. There was something wrong with Mandy. She never played with other children, and she hardly ever smiled. Without a word, Mrs. Veenstra went inside, letting the screen slam behind her.

“She’ll be back about three,” Nell called after her, as though she wanted to establish that, as the eldest,
she
was in charge.

“Jeez, I thought you were going to take all day,” Sally complained. “We do lots of fun stuff,” she said, mimicking Nell’s tone. “You could say anything in that mush mouth voice of yours. Tell her we pull the wings off flies and spray paint the stained glass. It’s not like she’s listening.”

Nell ignored her. “Would you like to take my hand?” she asked Mandy.

Mandy nodded and took her hand, then reached for Sally’s too.

“The way to deal with that woman is to remind her what
she’s
getting out of it,” Sally continued as they walked up State Street. “That’s all she thinks of anyway.”

“Sally! Be quiet.”

“What? Mandy knows I’m right.”

“You shouldn’t talk about her mother like that.”

“
Step
mother. Imagine making a child sit in a mortuary with a bunch of dead bodies! It’s no wonder Mandy acts half dead herself.”

“
Sally!
” Nell leaned over Mandy, patting her shoulder. “She didn’t mean anything.”

Mandy was silent.

“Cat got your tongue?” Sally asked. The poor girl was going to grow up to be just like Nell, resigned to her lot in life, letting herself get walked on.

Then, abruptly, Mandy said, “How old are you when you die?”

Sally and Nell looked at each other.

“Much, much older than you. You have nothing to worry about,” Nell said.

“But how old?”

“It depends.” Sally laughed. “The meaner you are, the longer you live.”

Mandy seemed to consider this. “Mona is 33,” she said.

“Sweetie, Mona is too young to die,” Nell said.

“Jesus died when he was 33,” Sally said.

“That’s different. He was killed.”

“My other mom was killed,” Mandy said.

Nell’s brow furrowed. “Yes, but that’s different too. Your real mommy died in a car accident.”

“If my stepmother dies and goes to heaven,” Mandy said, “she’ll meet my real mom. Then my real mom will yell at her for not being nice to me.”

“I wouldn’t worry about Mona being in heaven,” Sally said.

Nell stopped, her hands on her hips. “Could we
please
—”

Sally shrugged. “Sorry.”

Nell shot her a warning look. “We’re going to have such fun today!” she said, patting Mandy’s shoulder. “Now tomorrow,” she added brightly, “you’ll come with
Sally
.”

“Yippee,” said Sally.

Another glare from Nell. “Because I’ll be starting my training at the police station. When school starts you’ll see me every day on the corner in my uniform.”

“Crossing guard extraordinaire!”

Nell snapped, angry now, “Why are you being so difficult? You’ve always loved Vacation Bible School.”

“Says who?”

Nell gaped at her.

“No really. What makes you think I love it?”

“Don’t you?”

Sally frowned. “Doesn’t it seem a little pointless?”

Nell seemed genuinely surprised. “Why no! It’s a chance to be joyful together.”

“Joyful? Who’s joyful?”

“Well,” Nell sputtered. “What would you rather be doing?”

But something had caught Sally’s eye. There, across from the church, was the Texaco station. Leaning over someone’s windshield was Cash DeVries. And parked beside the building was a beat-up brown Chevy Impala. The type of car a teenager might drive. A car that was so much more comforting than a Greyhound bus.

“I’d rather be talking to
him
,” Sally said and before she could stop to consider what she was doing, she was running across the street.

“Sally!” There was a pause as Nell watched her go. Then, “You didn’t use the crosswalk!”

By the time Sally reached the asphalt lot of the station, Cash had gone back inside. She slowed to a walk. With the glare of the sun on the window, she couldn’t tell if he was watching her or not. She took a deep breath and pretended to be fascinated by the words
high octane
.

Nell was still yelling when Sally opened the door. A little bell rang. Cash was behind the register counting money and didn’t look up. She was disappointed. It’s awkward when you’re being watched, but even worse when you’re not.

She waited as he flipped through the bills. The station smelled of motor oil and air freshener and ....dill pickle? Glancing around, she saw a half-eaten pickle sitting on a napkin on the counter, the big kind that you get from a barrel at carnivals. She could see his teeth marks in it. She looked away, embarrassed.

“Hey,” she said.

He raised his head, a five dollar bill poised mid-air. “What do
you
want?”

How could she put this? Will you drive me out of town? Are you and your car for hire? Maybe she should talk about Lenny.
My brother asked me to say he never meant to mess up your face.
But she didn’t want to think about Lenny. He’d blow a gasket if he knew she was here.

She shrugged. “I dunno.”

“So you’re a Van Sloeten. Which means you’re that cocksucker’s sister.”

She tried not to wince at his language. “Yeah, well. Kinda funny, huh?”

He pointed to his nose. “Does this look funny?”

“Listen, I’m not the one who did it, so don’t get mad at me.”

“What makes you think I’m mad? Because you’d know if I was mad.”

She rolled her eyes.
Ooohh
, she felt like saying.
You’re so dangerous
. But she made herself smile.

“Anyway, thanks for the tape. That was a real lifesaver.”

He set the pile of fives down and scribbled something on a pad. “That’s what you came to tell me?”

She looked around, stalling. “You’re probably wondering why I was mailing a letter on a Sunday.”

“Not really.”

“You were curious about it before. Remember? You reminded me that the mail wouldn’t go out.”

“That was before.” He stared at her. “Today I’m not interested.”

Sally stepped closer to the counter. “I was afraid I’d change my mind about sending it. I’ve sort of been working up my nerve to write to this particular person.”

His eyes were an odd color. Not really blue, or green. More like gray. A very dark gray. They were pinned on her, flat and indifferent. “I don’t write letters myself,” he said.

“Don’t you want to know who I was writing to?”

“Why should I care?” He took a pile of ones out of the register.

Sally scuffed the toe of her shoe against the concrete floor. “Anyway, I’m just glad for the help.”

He said nothing, just stood with the money in his hand, looking at her.

“Otherwise...my letter wouldn’t have gone out.”

“So you said.”

“I just thought you might be curious. That’s all.”

“I’m trying to count this money.”

“Oh.” She hesitated. She could just hear his next words.
So why don’t you run along?

“Is that your car outside?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

She might as well blurt it out. “How would you like to drive me to Kalamazoo?”

He didn’t answer. Only stared.

“I need a ride to Kalamazoo.” She put her hands on her hips to express her determination. He raised his eyebrows slightly. For the first time, Sally noticed the sexy pin-up girls on the wall behind him. Blushing, she said, “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?” He slammed the register drawer shut and leaned forward on both elbows.

“I’ll pay you,” she said quickly.

“How much?”

She thought of the money she’d saved from her birthday.

“Ten dollars?”

He laughed. “Is that gonna cover my hospital bill when your brother comes after me?”

“Lenny has nothing to do with this.”

He shook his head. “Thanks, I’ll pass.”

“I can understand you might be scared of him…”

“Scared! If that fucker could be trusted to fight fair, I’d take him on right now!”

Sally looked nervously out the window. Lenny was just across the street. Nell might be with him now, ratting her out. He could come charging out any second, a ball of crepe paper still in his hand.

“Never mind Lenny. He doesn’t tell me what to do. Besides, he’s on probation now.”

Cash seemed to consider this.

“So what’s in Kalamazoo?” he asked.

“My dad.”

“What’s he doing there?”

She didn’t want to admit that she had no idea exactly where her dad was or what he did. Her mission would seem too vague and he would refuse. She motioned nonchalantly with one hand. “He travels around giving motivational speeches to college kids and community groups. He’ll be in Kalamazoo, and since it’s so close I thought I’d go see him.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why doesn’t he come see you?” he asked.

Oh, if she could answer
that!

“He’s just so busy. Sometimes they even tape him, and play the tapes in mental hospitals, or...or...in offices, or at Sears or Penney’s. You know, for the salesgirls.”

Those eyes. Didn’t he ever blink?

“Why do you keep scratching your arm?” he asked.

“I don’t,” she said, but there were white fingernail marks crisscrossing a large red spot on the inside of her elbow.

“Are you nervous?”

She shrugged. She didn’t want him to think she was a square. “I’m not supposed to hang out in gas stations,” she said. She’d never been told this specifically, but she supposed gas stations were the same as bus stations. Pretty much any kind of station was off-limits.