Necessary Lies (23 page)

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Authors: Diane Chamberlain

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BOOK: Necessary Lies
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My fault.

No one else to blame.

I got out of the car and went into the house to apologize to my husband.

 

22

Ivy

Mrs. Forrester popped out of the woods while I was hanging sheets on the line. Baby William’d peed all over them last night because Mary Ella was right sloppy with diapers sometimes. It was Sunday. What was Mrs. Forrester doing here on a Sunday? Couldn’t be good.

“Good morning, Ivy!” she said, like seeing me was the best thing that ever happened to her.

“It’s Sunday, Mrs. Forrester,” I said, thinking she might of got her days confused. I was happy to see her, though. Even Nonnie still laughed when we talked about doing the twisting dance in the kitchen and we loved the fan. We moved it into the bedroom and I never slept so good on a summer night before.

“That’s why I’m here,” she said. “You don’t work on the farm on Sunday, right? I thought I could take you and Mary Ella and Nonnie and Baby William on a little trip to the beach.”

I just stared at her. Had she lost her mind?

“The beach?” I shook out Nonnie’s raggedy old slip and hung it up. “What are you talking about?”

“I think y’all need a getaway,” she said. “Just for the day. Would you like that?”

“I ain’t never been,” I said.

“I know. That’s why I thought it might be fun. Do you have a bathing suit?”

“No, ma’am. When we go to the pond, we just wear shorts.”

“Well, let’s talk to your grandmother and Mary Ella and see if y’all can take time off from your household duties and have a relaxing day.”

I slipped a clothespin over one of Baby William’s dingy-looking diapers and started toward the house. “Mary Ella ain’t here right now,” I said. “Nonnie sent her to a church friend to get some of the cookies they give out after the service.” I was embarrassed to let Mrs. Forrester know how far Nonnie would go for sweets, sending Mary Ella two miles away on the bike just for a few cookies.

“When will she be back?”

“I don’t rightly know,” I said. You never did know with Mary Ella. She might of been doing one of her disappearing acts.

I looked up at the blue sky, a few puffy clouds right over my head. I didn’t know why Mrs. Forrester came up with this idea, but Lord, it was a beautiful day and I wanted to see the ocean. I didn’t think Nonnie would say yes, though. She had chores lined up for me and Mary Ella that would take us all day.

“Well, we’ll start with your grandmother, then.”

We found Nonnie in the kitchen, eating the biscuit I told her not to eat at breakfast. Smeared with jelly, of course. I wanted to rip it out of her hand, but knew better than to do that in front of somebody. I just gave her the eye and she gave it right back to me.

“Mrs. Forrester wants to take all of us to the beach,” I said. Mrs. Werkman would never do anything like that. Never.

“That’s the craziest thing I ever heard,” Nonnie said. “You supposed to be home with your own family on Sunday.”

“My husband’s playing golf today,” she said, “and I thought it would be nice to drive out to the beach, and since I knew the girls had never been, I’d invite you all to come along.”

“Sticky sand.” Nonnie said the same thing she did the other day, licking the jelly from her fingers and probably making her sugar go sky-high. “Ain’t been since I was a child, but I remember.”

“Well, then you must also remember how special it is,” Mrs. Forrester said. “Let’s all take a day off and go.”

“I got too much to do,” Nonnie said, “but you can take the girls and the baby.”

I squealed. What a surprise! “Thank you, Nonnie!” I said, giving her a hug, even though I knew why she was letting us go: She was going to eat the cookies and anything else she could find, all day long, starting as soon as we left the house. Nobody home to tell her she shouldn’t.

“Great,” Mrs. Forrester said. “Get some clothes you can swim in and whatever you need for William. Do you have any extra towels? I have some, but we could use a few more if you have them. I have suntan oil and an umbrella.” She looked around the room. “Where
is
William?”

“Where’s he at?” I asked Nonnie, and she shrugged.

“Baby William!” I hollered. I poked my head in the bedroom. “You want to see the ocean, Baby?” But he wasn’t there.

“Could he be outside?” Mrs. Forrester looked worried.

“That boy could be anywhere,” Nonnie said.

“He’s only two,” Mrs. Forrester said. “He really needs all of you to keep a more careful eye on him.” She was peeking behind the sofa like he might be hiding there. I was pretty sure where he was: under the porch, watching for Mary Ella to come home.

“I know where he is,” I said, hoping I was right so Mrs. Forrester wouldn’t think we wasn’t watching him right. I walked out the front door, hopped down the step and peeked underneath. Sure enough, there he was. “Come on outta there,” I said, grabbing him and yanking him out, but not before I pulled a lizard from his hand. I hoped he wasn’t going to stick that thing in his mouth. “We’re going to the beach.”

He let out a howl at how rough I was being with him. Mary Ella would of smacked me if she saw me pull him out that way, but I had to show Mrs. Forrester I could be tough with him. I knew she thought we wasn’t doing right by him. She didn’t understand you couldn’t keep an eye on a little boy on a farm any more than you could keep an eye on a dog or cat.

When we got back inside, Nonnie was already getting the towels and some clothes ready for us. She was fired up to get us gone so she could dig into the jar of jelly by the spoonful.

“Now we just got to wait for Mary Ella,” I said.

“We could drive to the church friend’s house,” Mrs. Forrester said. “Give her a ride back.”

“All right. Can you change Baby William and get some extra diapers for us while we’re gone?” I asked Nonnie.

Nonnie nodded. “Don’t let Mary Ella forget what I sent her for,” she warned. “That girl forgets her own name sometimes.”

*   *   *

We drove up Deaf Mule Road. Mary Ella’d been gone long enough she should be coming home by now, but there wasn’t no sign of her yet. I spotted a truck coming toward us and could tell from a long ways away it was Eli driving it.

“Here comes Eli Jordan,” I said.

“He has a truck?” She sounded … suspicious? Like how could a colored boy have a truck. That made me disappointed with her. It was all about money with them social workers, even Mrs. Forrester, I guessed. You had a truck or a car—where’d you get the money for it? Did you take it out of your babies’ mouths?

“It’s Mr. Gardiner’s old truck,” I said. “He lets Eli use it for farmwork sometimes. He’s slowing down. Can you stop?”

Mrs. Forrester pressed on the brake real slow and we stopped right next to the truck. Devil and Avery were sitting in the bed and Avery stood up and waved. “Hey, Mrs. Forrester!” he shouted.

“Sit down, Avery,” she said. “It’s dangerous.”

Eli looked at Mrs. Forrester and then past her to me. “Where you going?” he asked.

“We’re looking for Mary Ella Hart,” Mrs. Forrester said, using Mary Ella’s last name like she was a stranger to Eli instead of a girl he knowed all his life. “She went on an errand for her grandmother.”

“You seen her?” I asked. “She’s on her bike.”

Eli didn’t answer right away. Then he called out his open window. “Mary Ella!”

Mary Ella’s head popped up from the bed of the truck and I knew she’d been hiding back there so no one would see her with colored boys. “We saw her on the bike,” Eli said. “Gave her a ride home.” He was staring at Mrs. Forrester like he was waiting for her to say he done something wrong. It
was
wrong. I didn’t want to think what Mary Ella might have been doing in the bed of the truck with Devil and Avery. I didn’t know my sister no more.

“Mary Ella, get out of that truck,” I said. “You know better. Nonnie’ll shoot Eli if she sees you riding with him.” I looked at Eli. “We’ll take her home,” I said.

He looked at me again. “Everything all right?” he asked.

“We’re going to the beach with Mrs. Forrester,” I said.

“Ain’t that dandy,” he said.

Mary Ella looked around to be sure no one was watching, then jumped out of the back of the truck carrying the basket she always had on her arm. She reached up for the bike Devil was handing down to her, but Eli told him to leave it. “I’ll carry it home for you,” he said to Mary Ella.

Mary Ella got in the backseat of Mrs. Forrester’s car, and Eli took off.

“What do you mean about the beach?” Mary Ella asked.

“I have a free day,” Mrs. Forrester said, “so I stopped by to see if you girls and William would like to take a little trip to the beach.” I was so glad she didn’t say anything about Mary Ella being in the truck with the boys. Mrs. Werkman would have preached a whole sermon.

“We can swim?” Mary Ella asked.

“Yes,” Mrs. Forrester said.

“But it ain’t like the pond,” I told Mary Ella. “You’ve seen pictures of them big waves in the ocean.” I thought of the pictures in Henry Allen’s California book, the ones with them boys on the boards, but I knew the Atlantic Ocean didn’t have no waves like that. “We have to keep a good eye on Baby William.” I wanted Mrs. Forrester to know I heard her. I wanted her to like me; it was dumb how much. I didn’t usually care that much about being liked, except by one handsome boy I hardly ever got to see these days.

“Hopefully, it will be calm today,” Mrs. Forrester said. She kept looking in her mirror at Mary Ella.

“What did you get for Nonnie?” I asked her.

“Oatmeal cookies.”

“She’s gonna collapse and die on us,” I said.

“Maybe Nurse Ann needs to talk to her some more about what to eat,” Mrs. Forrester said.

“She knows what,” I said. “She just gets real hungry and can’t stop herself.”

“It must be very hard for her,” Mrs. Forrester said, and I thought that was real kind of her. More kind than I would be, and Nonnie was my own flesh and blood.

We got back to the house and Mrs. Forrester told us to pee and get a fresh diaper on Baby William. Then she went in the johnny herself and then we put on the clothes Nonnie got out for us. I’d outgrowed mine already. I had to stop eating Nonnie’s biscuits. I didn’t have nothing to wear to swim in, so Nonnie gave me one of her old housedresses. It would have to do. She said we could take a few cookies with us, but Mrs. Forrester said she had sandwiches in a cooler and a big thermos full of lemonade, so we was set.

The drive took a long time. No wonder we never got to the beach before! It took forever and Baby William cried half the way there, then finally calmed down and fell asleep on Mary Ella’s lap in the backseat. Mrs. Forrester asked us lots of questions, which seemed like her favorite thing to do. What subject did I like best in school? I said history. Then she asked Mary Ella what subject did she like back when she was in school and Mary Ella said, “Nothing.” If we could live anywhere, where would we like to live? That was her next question. For me, that was easy. California, of course. Mary Ella had a harder time answering. She didn’t like questions. She didn’t like nobody seeing inside herself. Not even me, her own sister. When she didn’t answer, Mrs. Forrester just asked it again. “Where would you most like to live, Mary Ella?” she asked. “If you could live anywhere in the whole wide world?”

“California,” she said.

“What?” I said. “You ain’t never said nothing about California before. You just said that because I did. She don’t even know where California is,” I said to Mrs. Forrester.

“Do you really want to live in California, Mary Ella?” Mrs. Forrester asked, looking in her mirror. I knowed what she was seeing. My sister, her hair blowing all around her head from the open window, looking at the countryside, thinking how to answer.

“No,” she finally said. “I just want to live away. Far away. Baby William and me.”

“Far away … some place in particular?” Mrs. Forrester asked.

“Any place. Long as it’s far away.”

“Who else would live there?” Mrs. Forrester asked, and I knew even before the last word was out of her mouth that she’d pushed Mary Ella one question too far. Sure enough, my sister shut up and didn’t speak another word for the rest of the drive.

*   *   *

Mary Ella turned out to be afraid of the ocean. I understood. When we got out of the car and climbed over the little sandy hills, I felt dizzy myself. When you see a picture of the ocean, it’s cut off at the edges. You know it goes on and on to the right and on and on to the left, but you never really know how it feels to see that until you actually do see it. Mary Ella climbed over the sandy hill and couldn’t take another step. She just stood there, Baby William in her arms, yellow hair blowing all around.

“It’s too big,” she said.

Mrs. Forrester laughed, but just a little. Not like she was making fun of Mary Ella. “It’s a shock at first, isn’t it?” she said. “You’ll get used to it quickly. Baby William is used to it already. He wants to get down and play.” Baby William was squirming in Mary Ella’s arms. Mrs. Forrester took him from her and set him on the sand. He started doing his wobbly run toward the water. “Don’t go in yet!” Mrs. Forrester called after him. “Wait for us.”

I laughed. Let her see how easy it was to keep an eye on that boy.

There was other people on the beach, but not too many. I could hear music from transistor radios and wished I brung mine. Mary Ella and me rubbed suntan oil on each other’s arms and backs and we set out the two blankets Mrs. Forrester had and the cooler and thermos and towels and took off our shoes and then we walked into the water. The waves seemed big to me but Mrs. Forrester said they were tiny. Mary Ella stayed up near the beach, the water just splashing around her legs, but me and Mrs. Forrester held Baby William’s hands and swung him through the waves. I never saw that boy smile and laugh so much. I wished we lived right next to the ocean. When I said that, Mrs. Forrester said you could ruin a thing by wishing for something else. She asked me if I understood what she meant, but I thought she was talking gibberish. So she said, “If you’re having fun at the beach, like we are, but you spend all your time here wishing you could be here all the time, you’re wasting the time you’re here.” She asked me if I understood that, and I said yes but I still thought she was talking some other language.

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