Little Sacrifices (19 page)

‘Did I?’

‘Uh huh.’

‘When?’

‘Come on Duncan, it doesn’t matter when. Did you, or didn’t you?’

‘Well, if I said I did.’

‘Then you did?’

‘You said I did.’

‘But did you? I’m asking.’

He was quiet for long enough to make me think he wasn’t going to answer me. I returned to my book in a huff.

‘He was quite a bit older than me.’

Bingo. ‘What was his name?’

‘Jerry.’

‘Were you close?’

‘Oh yeah,’ he said, laughing. ‘I worshipped him.’

‘What was he like?’

‘Wild. Fun. Nice. Honest. Principled.’

‘He died?’

‘He died.’

‘How?’ Wild, fun, principled Uncle Jerry.

‘I don’t really want to talk about it. It was a long time ago. Hey, will there be a band at Charlene’s fancy party?’

‘Uh huh. Why don’t you want to talk about it?’

‘Do you know how to dance?’

‘Pshh.’ I scowled at him. ‘Of course I do. But why don’t–’

‘Okay. Show me.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Come on. Show me.’ He rummaged through the records and dropped Johann Strauss on to the turntable. He held his arms to me.

‘No. Not that kind of dancing. Put on something faster.’

He snickered. ‘What do you think, May? That the Boyds hired Dizzie Gillespie to play at the party? The band’s going to play slow songs, waltzes. Come on, let’s see what you’ve got.’

I stepped into his arms and he pulled me around the living room. ‘For heaven’s sake, stop leading! Follow me. See? One two three and, one two three. My hand on your back tells you where I’m going next. No, stop leading! You’re just like your mother.’

‘Sorry.’ We wrestled through a few songs before it dawned on me that Duncan’s body couldn’t defy the laws of gravity any more than mine. He had to step on one leg first and then the other, or he’d fall over. Once I got that through my head, I didn’t step on his feet as much.

Duncan whistled under his breath as he inched the car towards Charlene’s house. She lived in one of the enigmatic mansions on the squares that sheltered a marvelous garden behind its somber face. The trees in front were wider than my arm span, as if to remind everyone that Charlene’s family had roots as deep. ‘Would you look at this. You sure are rubbing elbows with the moneyed set.’ And it was something to see. Uniformed attendants lined the road, ready to usher the boys and girls from their parents’ cars. Candles flared from sconces along the sidewalk, and every window in the house was alight. ‘Now, May, you be good.’

‘I know. Ma already told me.’

‘Don’t forget to thank Charlene’s parents.’

‘I know, Duncan.’

‘All right. Have fun.’

‘I will. Hey, Duncan? D’you think Uncle Jerry’d be proud of me?’

‘You mean tonight?’

‘Uh huh.’

‘These weren’t the folks Jerry’d have palled around with. He might have gone as an uninvited guest, but he wouldn’t have been welcomed through the front door.’ He chuckled. ‘Yeah, I bet he’d be proud of you.’

‘What–’

‘Here you go.’ The door opened, the attendant’s countenance faltering as I glared at his intrusion. ‘Have fun!’ He whistled again at the spectacle as the door closed.

In the front hall, I struggled to keep my head from swiveling off my neck. It looked like Ashley Wilkes’ big house in Gone with the Wind. Except that this was the real thing. Rich yellow walls wrapped me in a warm flannel feeling. A curling banister wound its way to the bedrooms upstairs. Ornate flower arrangements stood on every table. I wondered what Charlene’s Daddy did to afford it all. As I got to know the South, I learned that the house and every stick of furniture in it were passed down on Charlene’s mom’s side. It was an enduring Savannah tradition that armed brides with dowries to entice their would–be husbands.

Clay moseyed over while I wasn’t looking. ‘May I escort the prettiest girl in the room to the party?’ He whispered, scooping my arm into his before I had the chance to make any inane reply. He looked handsome as ever. I felt as green as my dress. He steered me towards the girls, where they waited next to the Boyds to greet their guests.

‘Why, May, you’re beautiful!’

‘Just perfect!’

‘That really is the most divine color. And Clay, you are as handsome as ever!’

Charlene introduced me to her parents. Missus Boyd stood a little unsteadily and extended her hand to me. For a second I didn’t know whether she expected me to shake it or kiss it. I chose the former, which seemed to suffice.  Mister Boyd was big and smiling. Every few minutes he reached over and squeezed his daughter. It was an affectionate gesture and, as I was about to find out, one that made his wife apoplectic with poorly aimed jealousy.

‘Charlene dear, stand up straight. You’re not flattering your figure by slouching like that.’ Somehow she flashed her teeth without really smiling, like she had a facial tic. I disliked her instantly, and immensely. ‘Poor Charlene, she’s never outgrown her baby fat. She got her shape from her father, and I’m sure
that
isn’t doing her any favors with the young men!’ She laughed humorlessly. If that was how rich people treated each other, I thought, they were welcome to their money.

‘Mother, why don’t you go fix yourself another drink?’ Charlene said sweetly through clenched teeth.

Missus Boyd flushed scarlet. ‘Are you suggesting that I’m drunk? How dare you! I am as sober as you are.’ With mean eyes she dared us to contradict her on the matter. I wasn’t going to be the one to do so. Neither was Mister Boyd, judging by his focus on the marble floor. Maybe women ruled the roost in the South. I’d have loved for Ma to see it.

The silence stretched until Minty broke the ice. She draped an arm around my shoulder and gathered me into their midst. ‘Clay, you run along now, May’s going to stay with us for a spell, aren’t you, May?’

‘Uh, sure. See you later, Clay.’

He smiled into Missus Boyd’s eyes as he kissed her hand. ‘Well, girls, it’s hardly fair to us men that all the most beautiful ladies at the party are guarding their virtues here in the doorway.’ Missus Boyd giggled like a mental patient.

‘Clay, you get out of here!’

‘What
men
? Honestly.’

‘Mind your manners, Clay!’

He made a forlorn face and with hands over heart reeled away to join his friends.

In their fancy clothes, everyone was beautiful. Charlene’s dress, a white silk taffeta number that swirled around her like meringue, ensured she was the center of attention. Ceecee was glorious in pink and Minty resplendent in yellow. ‘Smile!’ A flashbulb scattered little black squares across my vision. ‘Thank you, Missus Leighton,’ Charlene said, dismissing the photographer by turning her back on her. ‘Well, girls, there’s one for the papers.’ Her voice hitched with excitement that wasn’t altogether healthy.

‘Is she from the Morning News?’

‘Of course! My party is
the
social news this weekend. Mother and Daddy invited all the important people. Mayor Kennedy, Judge MacDonnell, Mister Adler, they’re all coming. Even Minty’s daddy is here!’ Minty pulled a face.

When the band started to play everyone made a beeline for the ballroom. Ceiling–high windows opened to the garden, letting in a spring wind to vex hairdos. In the golden light, the room was lovely. Chairs stood ready against the walls to welcome tired or retiring feet, and little knots of kids chattered and flirted near the punchbowls. The adults were just as noisy, helped along by the champagne waiters patrolling the room with silver trays. Minty made eyes at Charlene’s cousin from Macon until she drew him to his feet. ‘May I have this dance?’ She lowered her eyelashes a fraction and they moved off with his hand on her back. We were picked off one by one by the bolder boys, and I was grateful for Duncan’s foresight. The band was disinclined to play anything written after the Civil War.

‘You’re a very good dancer, May,’ said the boy who’d summoned the nerve to steer me to the dance floor. Jimmy was in my class, but before being cheek to cheek, I’d had no occasion to notice him.

‘Well.’ I concentrated on keeping my heels away from his instep.

‘No, I mean it. And you look beautiful tonight.’ He blushed. I tried to focus on his eyes instead of the pimples reconstructing the Battle of Gettysburg across his face. I asked whether he was good friends with Charlene. 

‘Naw, not really. We just live next door. My parents are around here somewhere. Charlene and my sister used to be friendly when we were kids. But that’s over now.’

‘How come?’

‘Well,’ he looked embarrassed. ‘Charlene’s with the popular kids now. Mabel’s never been popular. Not like you.’

His compliment made me defensive. As if I had anything to do with Mabel being an outcast. The girls chose their friends, and I’d paid my dues fair and square. I deserved to be there, Mabel didn’t. That wasn’t my fault.

Before I got the chance to put my foot in my smug mouth, Clay cut in. ‘You’re not going to run off with another man now, are you?’ He whispered in my ear. It tickled. I loved it.

‘I don’t know, Clay, I might. It all depends on what you’re offering.’ The floor was crowded with would–be wooers and the objects of their affection. We danced between them with hardly a bump. Each time he spun me round to face the windows, I caught Jimmy the Pimple staring at me.

‘Offering? I see. Well, how about this?’ He took my hand and tried to put it against his hip. I jerked away and he laughed, catching my hand again and patting it against his pocket. A flask met my palm. After a little more dancing, we walked into the wind.

The shadows on the lawn were crowded with truant revelers. The breeze was sticky, rubbing woolly the hair around my face. Clay held the flask out to me. ‘Ladies first.’ My eyes stung from the fumes alone, and I had the sense not to knock back a mouthful of the stuff. Not that that made any difference. The sip I took ignited my throat and I coughed and wheezed until the tears ran. ‘Are you okay?’ I waved at him and nodded while I hacked some more. He laughed, took a long draw, and smacked his lips. ‘Want another taste?’ Why not?

The sips went down easier after the first couple numbing swallows. ‘You hurt my feelings you know when you stopped asking me out,’ I pouted.

‘Aw, May, I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry about that. I guess I was a jerk.’

‘I’ll say you were.’

‘I am sorry. Still friends?’ He handed the flask back.

‘I supp–pose.’ I was flirting! It wasn’t so hard. I couldn’t keep from smiling. The whiskey was beginning to taste good. I tipped the flask and caught the last drops on my tongue. ‘Oops, all gone.’

The ballroom turned hazy during the hour or so that we were outside. I felt positively airy on my feet, and Clay was the most charming he’d ever been. He spun me around the floor until I was dizzy. ‘You’re beautiful.’

‘Thanks.’

‘I mean it. You really are. I’m the luckiest guy in here tonight.’

‘What about Charlene?’

‘She’s not the luckiest guy in here tonight.’

I cracked up until my sides hurt. ‘Are you making a pass at me?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Okay. Just so I know.’ The floor tipped off–kilter.

‘May, you don’t look so good.’

‘I don’t? I feel wonderful.’

‘You look a little pale. Do you want to take a rest?’

‘No! I want to dance all night.’ He grimaced as my heel met his shoe.

‘Okay. It’s time to get you off my feet.’

I admitted I could use the bathroom. He walked me into the hallway where a dozen people stood patiently outside the closed door. ‘Come on. There’s another upstairs.’

Charlene’s hallway was about a mile long, dimly lit by tiny wall lamps. All the identical closed doors gave it a funhouse feel. Clay deposited me at the bathroom door. It wasn’t easy to get out of my underwear, but once I did it felt great. The girdle bit a purple crease into my stomach, It seemed a bad idea to put it back on. It didn’t fit in my handbag so I hid it behind the towels in the closet.

Clay called softly from a doorway down the hall as I switched off the light. ‘This way. I thought you might want to rest a bit before we go back downstairs. It’s Charlene’s room. It’s okay, she’ll be busy with her guests.’

Her room was fairytale pretty. Shelves along all the walls held dozens of dolls. Her vanity table was white and covered with intriguing little jars and bottles. Clay patted a spot on the mattress next to him. I sat down and kicked my shoes off. ‘Here. I’ll rub your feet.’ I laid back and closed my eyes while he massaged some of the dancing out of my feet. It felt nice. Very nice. Then he kissed me, and I kissed back. That also felt nice. Very very nice.

‘Aw, May, I can’t.’

I opened my eyes as he sat up. ‘What is it?’

‘We shouldn’t. You’re wonderful, May. I mean it, really one of a kind. You’re a nice girl.’

I’m a nice girl? That’s what boys said when they weren’t that interested. I could feel my chance with Clay slipping away. I’m not a nice girl, I wanted to shout. Or at least, I am, but this is different. Could I say that? I had to say something. ‘I’m not as nice as you think.’

‘You’re not? Really?’ He smiled.

‘I’m really not.’ I was desperate for him to kiss me again. After a few more seconds staring at me, he did.

He had one hand under my skirt while the other unzipped his pants. I was happy for that. I didn’t have the faintest idea how to get him undressed, and make it look like it wasn’t my idea. I’d love to say it was the liquor’s fault but I would have done exactly the same thing stone–cold sober. We were still kissing when he put his hand inside my underpants. He rubbed softly in the same place and it started to tickle, but I didn’t want to laugh. I felt my heartbeat getting more insistent. Something was happening that I’d never felt before. A shiver ran up my neck and into my scalp, and I must have said something because he shushed me. Good gracious. He pulled down my underpants and hovered over me. His eyes were closed. I could feel him pushing against me. I tried to move my hips up. He pushed hard and a pain seared through me, worse than the time I fell off the porch roof onto the banister. I hollered and Clay covered my mouth with his hand. ‘Shh, shh, shh. It just hurts for a minute. May. Listen to me. It’ll feel good in... a... minute. I promise.’ He didn’t slow down. ‘See? Isn’t that better?’ It wasn’t.