Part of Me (7 page)

Merle Henry didn't want to go to school the next day, but his mother made him. “Can't we walk to Faye's and call Doc Harrison first?”

“It's too early to call. His office isn't open yet.”

Merle Henry noticed that his daddy wasn't at the kitchen table and when he saw the truck parked out front he asked, “Where's Daddy?”

Then he heard the loud snoring from his parents' bedroom.

Rose frowned. “He has one of his headaches. You better tell Gordie it's time to go out and wait for the bus.”

Merle Henry started for the bedroom.

“Just a second, son.”

He turned.

Rose sighed. “There comes a time in life where you have to pay for the choices you make. I think you learned that yesterday.”

Merle Henry lowered his head. “Yes, ma'am.”

By P.E. class Merle Henry knew that Coach Burns wouldn't be there. He'd learned that the coach had lost a fight at the Wig Wam with some man from the backwoods. Merle Henry remembered how his daddy had left the house last night. Normally the thought of his daddy beating up Coach Burns would have made him puff up with pride. Today he couldn't think of anything but Blue.

When school let out, he headed to the bus like usual. Then he heard someone call, “Merle Henry!” Rose stood in front of the truck. She was too far away from him to tell whether she appeared sad or not. All he could see was her brown hair blowing in the breeze and a flower apron covering her big bump. He moved slowly toward her, fearing the reason she was there, already knowing. It was just like the time she met him after school to tell him about Uncle Possum. Today, though, Merle Henry didn't feel much like eating a vanilla swirl cone. He didn't care if he ever trapped a mink, possum, or squirrel. He'd never go into the woods again.

He reached his mother and stared down at her worn shoes, afraid to look at her face.

Lifting his chin with her hand, she smiled softly at him. She smelled like Camay soap. “Come here.”

Rose wrapped her arm around his shoulders and even though Merle Henry was thirteen he let her guide him to the passenger side of the truck. He didn't care if anyone saw them. When she opened the door he stared at a cardboard box on the seat.

“Blue!” Merle Henry reached down to touch him.

Blue licked his hand and his tail thumped against the side of the box. What was left of his injured leg had been bandaged with layers of white tape.

Merle Henry looked up at his mother. Her smile was so big, he could see her teeth.

“You'll have to work for Doc a little while, Merle Henry. Maybe you can offer to keep his place clean or mow his lawn.”

“Yes, ma'am, I will.”

“He said we didn't owe him anything, but Harps pay their debts. All of them. Your daddy is having to pay for his right now.”

He wanted to ask what she meant by that, but Gordie was walking toward them and Merle Henry was eager to see what his brother would say when he discovered Blue.

Merle Henry slid over to the middle of the seat and carefully placed the box on his lap. Gordie opened the truck door and ducked his head inside, then froze. “Well, I'll be,” he said, and for someone who didn't say much, that was saying a lot.

Rose started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot where the last of the kids were running toward the buses. The sun was shining mighty bright that afternoon, but even if it wasn't, it would have felt that way to Merle Henry. Today anything was possible. He could fly to the stars, if he wanted. “Momma, can we get ice cream at the Whip Dip?”

Rose smiled. “Merle Henry, that's a good idea. Some days are meant for ice cream. I believe this is one of them.”

Playing Hooky

(1958)

L
ILY
B
EA WAS
the prettiest girl Merle Henry had ever seen. She had brown eyes that reminded him of the doe he'd shot last winter. And her hair was golden like the bales of hay in Mr. Cantry's field up the road. He bet she smelled good, too, but he'd never been close enough to her to know for sure. He still couldn't believe she was going to the Sweetheart Dance with him. He'd never dreamed she'd say yes. Tommy had asked for him because Merle Henry was scared Lily Bea might say no.

Now he was scared because she'd said yes. If he didn't do something quick, he'd be going to the Forest Hill School Sweetheart Dance with two left feet. This was the first year eighth-graders were allowed to go and he'd concentrated so hard on getting up the nerve to convince Tommy to ask Lily Bea for him that he'd forgotten he didn't know how to dance.

The dance was two days away and he still hadn't cracked open
The Tango and Other Up-to-Date Dances.
He'd checked it out of the bookmobile a couple of weeks ago. He didn't go with his family as he usually did on Tuesday nights. He waited until they returned, then he walked the two miles with Blue hobbling behind on his three legs. The almost full moon was big and low in the sky that night. Merle Henry was grateful for the light it provided since he left his flashlight at home. Except for the giant longleaf pines, it seemed like he and Blue were the only things out there.

Arriving at the Hilltop Baptist Church parking lot, he waited until no one was in the bookmobile. Later when he handed Miss Erma the book, she'd said, “Your daddy sure could dance. Whoo-ee! You ought to ask Luther how to cut a rug.”

His face warmed and he said, “It's for a report I'm doing.”

“We didn't have any classes like that when I was in school with Luther. Say, isn't that Sweetheart Dance coming up soon?” She winked at him like she knew exactly why he was checking out that book.

He walked home with the book hidden under his jacket, wondering all the way back how Miss Erma knew Luther could dance so well. She was kind of pretty, but he didn't like thinking of anyone dancing with his daddy except his momma. He looked down at his hound. “You're lucky, Blue. No she-dog will ever expect you to cut a rug.”

Blue did know how to twirl around in a circle, something he'd never done until he'd lost that hind leg.

*   *   *

Merle Henry's aunt Pie would be visiting this afternoon from Alexandria. She was only five years younger than his momma, but she seemed a lot younger.

“I'm a grass widow,” she was fond of saying when people asked her about her husband.

“That's another way of saying divorced,” his daddy explained to Merle Henry the first time he'd heard Aunt Pie say it. “They're separated by miles and miles of grass. Pie is like a stray cat, always looking for a better fish.”

Merle Henry thought Aunt Pie was pure-d fun. She'd taken him to the Louisiana State Fair last year in Shreveport. They rode every ride three times and gawked at all the sideshows. She even entered the watermelon-seed spitting contest and won. Aunt Pie had a round face and a little rump that twisted side to side when she walked. And when she laughed, her whole face laughed, including her eyes, which grew tiny and reminded Merle Henry of a cute little possum's. He hoped he could have a girlfriend like Aunt Pie one of these days. For now, he'd make do with Lily Bea. That is, if he didn't lose his shot with her by not knowing how to dance.

In the afternoon, Merle Henry waited for Aunt Pie's arrival, while chopping wood out front. He wore a T-shirt, hoping to impress her with the new muscles he'd noticed in the mirror recently. Now the damp shirt stuck to his skin from sweat. He was thinking about changing when Aunt Pie rode up with a red-headed fellow in an army jeep. Merle Henry wanted to escape inside the house. He hadn't liked her last boyfriend, Buck, a car salesman from Lake Charles who told stupid jokes, then socked Merle Henry's shoulder as if to emphasize the punch line. “Get it?” Buck would say.

Merle Henry's arm hurt an entire week following their visit. When they'd driven off, his mother had said, “Mercy, Pie can surely do better than that.”

And when Aunt Pie showed up alone the next weekend with a black eye,
she
decided she could do better.

“What did he do to you?” his mother had asked, handing Pie a dishcloth filled with ice chips.

“You should see
him,
Rose,” said Aunt Pie. “Mr. Fancy Pants won't be flashing that snazzy grin until he gets that tooth replaced.” Then she laughed and soon Rose joined her.

That day Merle Henry had wanted to kill Buck.

Today when the soldier boy parked, Aunt Pie jumped out of the jeep, and Merle Henry kept chopping wood. Pie's hair looked blonder than usual and she wore red high heels and a circle skirt like some of the girls from school.

“Merle Henry, is that you? Come give your aunt Pie a hug.” She held out her arms wide as if she was trying to grab all the air around them.

Merle Henry gave her a quick hug. The skinny red-headed soldier was standing right behind Aunt Pie, grinning. With a closer look, Merle Henry thought the soldier looked the same age as Gordie, who was a senior this year.

Aunt Pie swung around and slipped her arm through the soldier's. “This is Cooter.”

Cooter held out his hand to Merle Henry. Merle Henry shook it hard, trying to show all his strength.

When Merle Henry released his hand, Cooter rubbed his fingers. “Goodness, that's some shake you have there, buddy. Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

Aunt Pie laughed and Merle Henry's face felt flushed. “Where's your momma?” she asked.

But before Merle Henry could holler for her, she was standing in the doorway, an apron tied above her huge melon belly.

“Hey there, Pie.” She reached over and kissed Aunt Pie's cheek.

Aunt Pie looked down at Rose's stomach. “Mercy, Rose. You're as big as a house.” She patted Momma's apron.

“It won't be too long,” said Rose. “Doc says a month, but I don't know about his arithmetic.”

“You look beautiful,” Aunt Pie said. “Maybe this time it will be a girl.” Then she seemed to notice Rose staring at her friend.

“This is Cooter,” she added, slipping her arm through his again.

Cooter took off his uniform hat. “Pleased to meet you, ma'am.”

Rose looked startled. Merle Henry wondered if it was because she'd fried only one chicken and fretted that there wouldn't be enough for everyone or if she was noticing how young Cooter looked.

“Come on in.” Rose led the way into the house. “We'll go ahead and eat. Luther is working a little late.”

They listened to Aunt Pie talk at the dinner table about how she'd met Cooter when she got hired to run errands at Fort Polk. “Then this cute redheaded thing asked me to a dance at the enlisted men's club. And you know how I like to dance, Rose.”

Merle Henry suddenly felt a stab in his gut.

That night Luther came home with some beer and offered Cooter one, but not before asking, “You are old enough, aren't you, son?”

Cooter grinned. “Yes, sir. I just have a baby face.”

“How old are you?” Merle Henry asked, knowing good and well he shouldn't have. He expected his momma or daddy to snap at him, or at least give one of their disapproving looks, but they just stared at Cooter, waiting for an answer.

Before he could say a word, Aunt Pie grabbed Cooter's hand and pulled him to the floor. “Old enough to dance,” she said. “Gordie, turn that radio up.”

Gordie had been reading the newspaper. He leaned over and turned up the volume, and everyone watched Aunt Pie and Cooter move around the little living room floor to the music coming from KALB radio. Merle Henry tried to memorize every step they took.

*   *   *

The next morning Merle Henry woke to a plan. Maybe it was because he'd dreamed about dancing with Lily Bea around the gym floor. He decided he'd play hooky and stay home to study that dance book. After watching Aunt Pie and Cooter dance for a few songs, it was bound to click with him. And if it didn't, he'd just be sick the next day, too. That idea sounded like the best yet. He'd get out of dancing, and keep Lily Bea from going with anyone else since it was too late for her to get another date. Maybe she'd even feel sorry for him and bake him a lemon cake or peanut butter cookies. Or she might get real mad and not ever talk to him again.

He hadn't really talked to her much anyway. Tommy had done the talking and he didn't seem to mind at all. Merle Henry had watched him speaking to Lily Bea from across the cafeteria and they got along just fine. Remembering that now caused Merle Henry to open the book and start studying.

The only thing nagging Merle Henry about playing hooky was that he couldn't run his trap line. And though he'd trapped eighteen possums, and three raccoons, he still hadn't caught a mink.

Twenty minutes later, Gordie was already dressed and out of their room. The morning was nippy like most February mornings in Forest Hill, that wet morning chill that comes from so much humidity. Merle Henry hid the book under his pillow and raised the sheet until it reached his chin.

Rose cracked open the door. “Merle Henry, you're running late. You're gonna have to walk to school if you don't hurry up.”

Merle Henry let out a groan. “Momma, I don't feel so good.” He hadn't played hooky since second grade and his mother had known all along that he was pretending. Back then, she had let him stay home, but she'd given him so many chores, he decided playing hooky wasn't that much fun.

Rose walked over to him and touched his forehead. She raised an eyebrow. “You don't have a fever.”

“It's my belly. I feel kind of sick.”

She let out a sigh. “You're not the only one. Cooter must have hugged the toilet in the outhouse on and off all night. Nobody can out-drink your daddy.”

“Cooter and Aunt Pie are still here?”

“Mm-hm. It was like musical beds last night. Pie and I slept in my room, and your daddy slept on the couch. Cooter just conked out wherever he landed.”