Prayers and Lies (17 page)

At Christmastime I sent Reana a new box of stationery and some stamps.

December 30, 1970

Dear Bethany,

Thank you for the new writing paper. I love it!!! Did you have a good Xmas? Daddy came home and we had a real nice time. He brout me a record player and some records of my own!!! I got 3 Dog Night and a Patsy Cline. I asked for the Jackson 5 too, but he didn’t get me that record because he said they are black. Mama was mad he got me 3 Dog Night. She said they are trashy but they are not! She just don’t like them cause they are not country. She and daddy had a fight about it before he left. But I still like the record.

Caleb gave me a necklass to wear and also my own subscripshun to National Geographic magazine, cause he knows how much I love that magazine. Isn’t that the nicest thing you ever herd of? He is so good to me. I made him a Christmas card and a pine-apple upside down cake. Granma helped me make it. I wish I had some mony to buy presents for him and for you too. But Caleb said he liked the cake just fine.

What did you get for Xmas? Write to me soon.

Love,

Reana Mae

In February, Tracy was voted Sweetheart Queen at the Valentine’s dance at school. Her boyfriend, Paul, looked very proud when she got her crown. Even I was proud, being her sister. Until after the dance, when she told me she wished I wasn’t her sister. We were in our room, and I told her I thought she looked beautiful when she got her crown. She looked straight at me and told me she wished I wasn’t her sister. And then she said that nobody at school liked me, but they were nice to me just because I was her sister.

All I could think of was how much I hated her. I wrote about it to Reana Mae, like I wrote to her about everything. But I didn’t hear back from her until spring.

May 5, 1971

Dear Bethany,

I am verry sorry I have not ansered all your letters. I got so much work to do now it seems like I can never get it all done. I been helping at granpa’s store to make some spending mony. And I am doing all the cooking now cause mama don’t cook at all no more. And I still have to go to school even tho I hate it. Mama said she didn’t care if I don’t go no more, but Aunt Bell says I have to go or she will call the police in St Albans and have them take me away from mama and put in a good home. She says I got to go to school so I can make something of my self. But I alredy am something. Why don’t she know that?

Daddy has not been home since Xmas. But we are doing ok without him. Caleb is doing all the mans work around the house. He is still working at granpa’s store too. I try to do mama’s work but it is hard sense I have to go to school all day. Granma is teaching me to bake bread. We had some I made for dinner last night and Caleb said it was the best bread he ever ate. Mama didn’t eat any till this morning cause she was asleep at dinner. She does that some days. Caleb says its cause she is a drunk. I used to get sad over it but I don’t any more cause at least she leavs us alone now.

Did you like 5th grade? Its awful boring here.

Love,

Reana Mae

One day in May, Tracy asked Mother if she could invite a boy to come for dinner.

“I don’t know, Tracy,” Mother fretted as she stirred Chef Bo-yardee spaghetti sauce with hamburger over the stove, her black curls clinging to her forehead. “You know how I feel about boyfriends.”

“I know, Mother.” Tracy sat at the table, chopping lettuce for a salad and smiling brightly. “But it’s not a date, after all. We’ll just be here with you and Daddy. And this way you can get to know him. Paul is so nice, Mother … really! I think if you just spend some time with him, you’ll see how nice he is.”

“I’m sure he’s nice, honey. I just think you’re too young …”

“But I’ve already asked him! And he’s so excited about meeting you. Oh, Mother, if you’ll just meet him, I know you’ll see it’s okay.”

“What’s okay?” The screen door slammed shut behind Daddy. He loosened his tie, dropped his briefcase on the kitchen table, and kissed Mother on her forehead, pushing the damp curls back with his fingers.

“Tracy asked a boy to come for dinner.” Mother frowned at Daddy.

“But it’s okay, Daddy,” Tracy trilled. “It’s Paul. You know, the boy you met last month?”

Mother stared hard at Daddy. Daddy stared back, his face reddening. I stared at Mother, then at Daddy, and finally at Tracy, who was smiling smugly.

“You’ve met this boy?” Mother spoke in the soft, dangerous kind of voice she used sometimes when we were in big trouble.

“You girls go on upstairs now,” Daddy said to us briskly.

“But, Daddy …” Tracy rose as she spoke. She was still smiling.

“Go on now, baby. You, too, Bethany. Go upstairs and finish your homework.”

We walked into the living room, then stopped, both of us straining to hear our parents in the kitchen.

“Well, Jimmy?”

“Now, Helen, don’t take that tone.” Daddy’s voice was soft and cajoling. “It’s nothing, really. Just listen for a minute.”

He cleared his throat. “I did meet Tracy’s young man last month.”

Tracy glanced sidewise at me, smirking.

“And he’s a nice young man. He’s a freshman at the high school, and I know you think that’s too old for Tracy, but I talked with him, and I think he’s all right. He’s hardworking and smart as a whip. Why, he’s at the top of his class in school. And he’s respectful, Helen … real respectful. I think he might be good for Tracy.”

“Jimmy, you know how I feel …”

“I know, Helen. I do know. But Tracy asked him to come for a reason. She wants you to know him. And that’s a good thing, honey, ain’t it?”

“Isn’t it.” Mother’s reply was automatic, even when she was angry.

“I mean, she’s not sneaking around behind our backs. She wants us to meet him … Paul is his name,” Daddy continued without pause.

“Apparently, you’ve already met him, Jimmy.”

“But she wants you to meet him, too. She’s thirteen years old, Helen, nearly fourteen. Why, she’s only a couple years younger than you were when we first met.”

“Tracy is not fifteen, Jimmy,” Mother replied firmly. “And she’s not me.”

“Tracy is a good girl, and she’s trying to make things right with you. Let her bring her young man to dinner. You meet him, and you’ll see he’s a good boy.”

Mother sighed. “You know best, Jimmy,” she said, in a tone that implied he did not know best at all. “I’m sure you know best.”

Tracy smiled at me triumphantly. She had won and she knew it—and not just this once. She knew how to work our father against our mother. She knew how to win.

I wondered how she knew how to do that. It would never have occurred to me to use Daddy against Mother. It seemed wrong and dishonest. And it made me mad at my father. Why did he always side with Tracy … even against Mother? Did he just not see how mean she was?

Of course, Tracy knew how to be charming. She could smile so sweetly, and even make herself cry when she needed to. And then, she was so pretty. Was that why Daddy favored her so? Or was it just that she seemed to need him so much?

Whatever the reason, it was a fact that Daddy favored Tracy, a fact as set as the sun rising in the east every morning. There was nothing to be done for it.

15
Childish Things

I
n June, Daddy told us we would be going to the river. I wrote a letter to Reana Mae as soon as I heard.

We loaded the station wagon and headed south, toward home. Daddy drove, singing his nonsense songs and telling bad jokes along the way. Mother sat beside him, knitting a baby blanket for the church ladies’ auxiliary. Nancy and Melinda sat in the backseat, looking at magazines and whispering. Tracy and I lay on blankets in the back end of the car. I was excited to be going back to the river, but Tracy was miserable. She wrote a six-page letter to Paul before we even reached the Ohio River, sighing heavily every ten minutes or so.

As we rounded the final turn and reached the dirt road, I strained my eyes for Reana Mae, Jolene, or Bobby Lee, but they were nowhere to be seen. Tracy scanned the horizon, too, before saying dully, “Well, I guess your trash-can twin finally found something better to do.”

We pulled to a dusty stop in front of the cabin and piled out of the car. No one stood on the porch to greet us; no fire burned brightly in the stove. No one had even unlocked the door for us. Daddy and Mother stood beside the car, exchanging indecipherable looks.

“Good thing I brought the extra key,” Daddy said. “Okay, ladies. Let’s get going! No one uses the bathroom till we’re unpacked!”

We hauled boxes and bags onto the porch as Daddy unlocked the door, opening it to the damp, cold darkness of long neglect.

Daddy carried in wood from the pile out back while Mother searched our bags for matches. Finally, she lit a fire in the wood-stove and opened the shutters on all the windows, letting sunlight stream in on the plank floors and musty furniture.

“There!” Mother sounded triumphant as she turned from the stove. “Now we can make some supper. Bethany, Tracy, find the bags with the groceries.”

As we began shoving aside bag after bag, we heard a tramping on the porch out front. Looking up, I saw a slim figure backlit in the doorway. It might be Reana Mae, but it seemed much older, tall and sleek, with a flowering figure. Then the figure spoke, and I sprang up to greet her.

“Hey, y’all! I’m mighty glad you’re here!”

I ran to hug Reana Mae, pulling her slight frame to mine fiercely.

“Hey, yourself!” I hollered. “How are you?”

Mother joined us, scooping Reana into a hug and kissing her blond head. “Where’s your mama, Reana Mae?”

“Oh, you know.” Reana waved her hand vaguely. “She’ll be along soon enough.”

Daddy came in with another load of boxes, and Reana Mae set about helping us unpack. Finally, she winked at me. “How ’bout a walk, Bethany?”

I glanced at Mother. She nodded and smiled. “Come back soon, though, you hear? There’s lots to do yet.”

I slipped gratefully into the early evening shadows with my cousin. Silently, we walked around the cabin toward the river—the dark, smooth, silent river winding its way toward the Gulf of Mexico and my Grandmother Araminta. I stared at the water for a minute before sliding down the hill on my bottom behind Reana.

I’ll pray for Grandma and Aunt DJ later, I promised silently. Those days I felt guilty if I thought of someone and didn’t pray for them right away—like they might just die from a lapse in God’s mercy. It was exhausting, being responsible for all those lives.

Sitting at the river’s edge, I dipped my toes in the cool water and grinned at Reana Mae sitting beside me.

“So,” I ventured. “How’re things?”

“Great,” she murmured. “Just great.”

We sat in silence for several moments—the first silence I ever remember between us.

“How’s school?” I tried again.

“It sucks!” she hissed with such vehemence, I jumped. “I hate it!”

I sat quietly for a moment before asking, “Why?”

“They’re just a bunch of jackasses, Bethany. You know? It’s like Caleb says, just a bunch of jackasses!”

I nodded wisely. Of course I didn’t know, but I didn’t want to admit it just yet.

“And they don’t know nothin’ about nothin’!” Reana continued.

“Like what?” I asked.

“Like about life!” She nodded sagely, her braid bobbing behind her. “Or about love. Or about nothin’!”

I sat in silence again.

“Anyways,” she continued brightly, “you just got to know Caleb, Bethany. He’s so much fun! And he’s smart! Why, I bet he knows more that’s useful than anyone else you ever met in your life.”

Reana Mae beamed at me. I stared back, feeling stupid and very, very young.

“You know how people say nothin’ makes sense till you’re grown up? Well,” she babbled along quickly now, “Caleb, he knows all about it. He makes sense of all kinds of things. I reckon that’s ’cause he had to grow up fast, you know? Just like me. His mama, well, she’s a tramp and a drunk … just like mine. And his daddy, well, he ran out on ’em. He ran off just like my daddy did. So that’s why Caleb understands it all. You see, Bethany? He understands ’cause he’s just like me!”