Roseflower Creek (11 page)

    Barnum and Bailey joined up with Wringley Brothers or something and it was the greatest show ever on earth, they said. Imagine that! The greatest show ever on earth! I couldn't sleep for three nights straight 'fore we was fixing to go get our tickets. We had some other excitement that week, too. Melvin was still working days over in Decatur at the Scottsdale Mill, even though he worked for Mr. Jenkins when he got done there. The mill payroll got robbed sometime a'fore Friday morning when they was to give out the money to the workers. It was insured and stuff, so Melvin and the other workers got their money okay the next day.

    Ray wasn't working there no more, so it didn't concern him none, but the whole town was pretty excited about the story in the Decatur paper. Melvin brought one and had me read it out loud. It was like a Bonnie and Clyde story for sure. Seems them robbers snuck in sometime during the night, fed the dogs raw meat and took the money from the safe. The paper said there wasn't any real sign the safe was even broken into. Seems the door was never locked to begin with. The paper said this Mr. John Allen Smithers who was in charge got hisself fired for not shutting it tight and locking it. And first they even thought he might of done it, but they decided not. The office lady said he had a habit of not locking up, on account it wasn't working real good. The combination or something stuck a lot, she said, and he couldn't get it open in the morning without cursing. They never been robbed a'fore, Mr. Smithers said, so he just kept leaving it not quite shut.

    It was a real fine story. The lawman investigating it said there was over ten thousand dollars took and a reward would be posted of five hundred dollars for getting it back. Lots of folks was hoping to find a way to help the law out and collect that reward, but one of them lawmen fellas said the culprit was probably clear to Alabama by now and not to count on it. That got the sheriff mad. He said they didn't know the likes of his county and he'd catch 'em sure as church.

"Mz. Hawkins," I said, "they got a five-hundred-dollar reward for catchin' them robbers. Fancy that." It was Saturday. I was helping her fold the laundry. She give me ten cents an hour and I had me thirty cents due already and it wan't even twelve o'clock noon. Mz. Hawkins always paid Mama more. She was supposed to help that morning. We sure needed the money, but she went with Lexie Ann. They took Little Irl to the doctor in Decatur since he wan't no better. He had us all a bit worried, but Melvin said not to fret none.

    "Young'uns is always gettin' sick," he said. So I stopped fretting 'cause he knew just about everything, Uncle Melvin did. But Mama and Lexie Ann was still worried and had creases in their foreheads when they leaned over him to check his temperature.

    "That's a right nice amount, Lori Jean," Mz. Hawkins said.

    "Ma'am?" I said, thinking she meant the money she was paying me for helping, which I was sorely grateful for, but even so, it didn't seem like much a'tall.

    "That reward money, a right nice amount."

    "That it is," I said. "Somebody was to get that, they'd be rich for sure."

    "Right nice sum," she said.

    "I'd sure like ta' git that reward money and give it to my mama," I said. "Git us a really big trailer and everything. That's what I wish."

    "If wishes were horses, Lori Jean, beggars would ride," she said real sassy like.

    "I reckon," I said, trying to be respectful like MeeMaw taught me, but I stuck my tongue out when she turned away, not being able to help myself none. I folded up a pair of her undies and put 'em on top of the laundry basket, then started on another pair. Them bloomers of hers was big as a cow's butt. I hoped God would forgive me for noticing.

    She give me lunch, fifty cents and an extra dime I didn't do no work for, before I left, so she weren't all bad. Matter of factly, Mz. Hawkins could be right nice when she had a mind to be.

    Seeing as our place wasn't too far off, I decided to go and see what Ray was up to. But first I wanted to sit with Carolee at her grave spot. I stopped at the creek, took my shoes and socks off and mixed up a batch of mud cakes. I loved how that clay squished between my fingers all gooey like. I stuck my toes in the muck, too. Then I made up a nice stack of them dirt cookies for Carolee and carried them on up to the cemetery. By the time I got done visiting it was getting late and the sun was setting fast. I went back down to the creek to wash up and get my shoes. One of them was there on the bank of the creek stuck in the dirt where I left it. The other one was nowhere in sight. I looked everywhere. Did a coon carry it off ? Did it slide down into the river? It didn't much matter. Either way I was in bad trouble. They was the only ones I had. That's mostly why I took 'em off in the first place, so's they wouldn't get so muddy. I looked and looked. My stomach tied itself all up in knots tighter than one a' them mummies Mz. Pence showed us in a 'cyclopedia book.

    I run all over that creek bank searching for that shoe. By then it was near dinnertime for sure. My stomach started growling and my eyes started watering. I was ready to plumb give up. I really didn't want to leave without my shoe, but it was getting dark, and the hoot owls was making noises in the trees. Then I heard some rustling in the tall grasses. The creek was moving a bit swifter over the rocks now that evening was closing in, making its own scary noises.

    I went to the edge of the water for one last look, praying my shoe would appear. It didn't, but something else did, right out of nowhere. One of them snakes! Looked to be a black racer. Them kind ain't poisonous, I knew that much, but I don't like snakes. It slithered past my bare feet and slipped into the dark water. I took off running, but I didn't make it too far before I took a tumble. The mud patches I'd made earlier baking them dirt cookies tripped me up. Now my clothes was a sorrowful sight. I got back on my feet and headed to our house. Maybe Ray was out drinking and I could clean up there 'fore Mama saw what shape I was in. I hung on to the one shoe I had left, not knowing how it'd be any good to me now, but wanting to have something to show for my efforts.

    A cold spell had settled in that last week of October. Set a record for Georgia, they said. At school Amos Moses Johnson even fired up the coal furnace to take the chill off when the principal told him to.

    It was getting darker. The sun had sneaked off and the wind picked up speed. It blew faster than I ran. It zoomed ahead of me and smacked me in the face. I made my way out of the woods and onto the dirt road that led to our front porch.

    I hoped the house would be dark, that Ray would be gone and I could rest and clean myself up before I went back to Lexie and Melvin's old place, where Mama was waiting on me. Seeing the lights pouring out from the windows, I knew Ray was there and hoped even harder he'd be sober and in one of his nice moods, that he'd help me, maybe come with me to tell Mama, to say it didn't matter none about one old dumb shoe, that he had hisself a new job, paid good money, and we could get all the shoes we wanted. I prayed that real hard.

    The closer I got, the brighter the lights got. I'd never seen our house so bright. Like Christmas, only brighter. I didn't even know we had enough lights to make it that bright. That's when I seen it wasn't lights a'tall. It was fire! Flames whipped out from the windows and poured from the front door.

    "Ray!" I yelled. "Ray?" He didn't answer. I stepped onto the porch. The boards burned my bare feet and hot ash from the flames scorched the front of my hair. I knew I'd be in all kinds of trouble if I went in there, so I ran around to the back. The door was open and that's where I found Ray, sprawled on his stomach, his head twisted to one side. His fingers was wrapped around an old flour sack, black with soot, the edges burned and ragged. Ray's face was burnt bad, but his hands was worse. I heared him breathing, but not the way he breathed the last time I seen him. He breathed like a paper sack with holes in it, whistling and rattling.

    "Ray, get up! Get up!" I leaned down and yelled in his ear. He wouldn't answer. I drug his arms over his head and pulled him hard as I could. He didn't budge. Splinters of wood tore into my toes. I yanked at him harder. He moaned real good.

    "Ya' gotta help me, Ray! The fire's fixin' to git us both," I said. Which weren't no lie, neither. The flames was moving into the kitchen from the front room. They'd already burned out a corner of the ceiling. It come crashing down with a
whooooosh
. Nearly scared me dead.

    "Come on, Ray! Come on!" I screamed at him, but I couldn't get him to help me none. I went around to his backside to try and twist him about by his feet. The fire'd moved into the kitchen and it weren't long before the flames got hold of the back of my shirt. I felt hot fingers bite into my skin and grab hold of my hair. I wanted to run from that house as far and as fast as I could, to run and never look back. Something inside me said if I run, I'd die for sure. I laid on the floor next to Ray and rolled to the door. Over and over I rolled back and forth between him and the door. Smoke poured from my shirt and my hair. This bad stink come pouring from my head. I reached up and found the fire had give me a haircut. But I had no time to worry about that. Now the fire was done with my hair it was coming for the rest of me. My hands was growing these blisters, hurt something awful. Somehow I got on my knees and pushed myself back onto my feet. Bits of skin was peeling off my face, my clothes was half burned up, and my arms was near black. I screamed for someone to come help us.

    "Somebody!" I yelled. "Heeelllp! We needs help!" No one answered. No one a'tall. It was up to me, and that was a real sorry fact 'cause I wan't doing a real good job of helping us none. Then I remembered God might could help us if 'n he had it in mind to.

    "You gotta help me git Ray outa here, God, or he's gonna die," I said. I jerked Ray's legs around to the door and tried to drag him down the back steps, but he was just too heavy. The fire was licking at my bare feet, turning my toenails black. "Is that what you want?" I asked. "Do you want him to die?" He must not of wanted him to 'cause the next thing I knew I done drug Ray right out of that kitchen doorway lickety-split. I had strength in my arms come from Samson or somebody kin to him for sure. I was David and the fire was Goliath. I was David and I won. I got Ray out onto the stoop and pushed him a good one right over the edge of the steps and down onto the ground. I drug him clear away from the house. The flames shot out of the windows and swallowed up the rest of the porch. What was left of the house weren't a house no more. It was a stick thing with no walls. The edges was all that was left and the fire was eating those parts up fast. Heat come at us as the flames got madder. I drug Ray farther and farther from what was left of our house. I drug him 'til I couldn't walk no more and fell down next to him in the dirt. The cool air stung the burned skin on my back. My eyes burned all blurry. My nose choked trying to get air, and I was coughing and gagging somethin' awful. Ray wasn't moving none, but air still rattled out of him. His fingers still clutched the flour sack. Bits a' burnt green paper was coming out of the top. I pulled it loose from his hand, and I shouldn't a' done that 'cause his fingers was black and clear melted into the folds. When I yanked that flour sack loose, some of the skin on his fingers pulled clean off with it.

    "I'm sorry, Ray! I'm sorry!" I said, but he just laid there. More green bits flew out from the top of the sack. Some of it wasn't burnt at all. Money. It was money! More money than I ever seen in my life.

    "Where'd Ray get all this money?" I said right out loud. But I knew. Only one place he could git hisself money like that.

    "Good Lord," I said, "don't let me be right where he got all this money." But I knowed. I knowed for sure. I leaned over and threw up some yellow stuff. I didn't know if it was the smoke making me sick or the truth, but I puked 'til nothing more come up.

    I checked myself over to see if I made it. My toes was crusty as old bread, my arms black as burnt toast, my hands was all puffed up and blistered, but 'least I was alive. Ray lay at my feet not looking like he was. I could still hear that funny breathing sound coming from his chest, though, so I knowed he was for the time being. I had to run quick and get some help, but first I had to hide the money. No telling why he took it. Most likely he was crazy out of his head with worry and drink, what with Mama leaving him and all. He didn't even know how to cook. Probably went nuts. I was sure when he come to his senses he'd want ta' give it back, make it right, git that job with Mr. Jenkins, make us a regular family. I was sure he would, if he lived. I hid that money in case he did. I figured I'd find a way to git it back later. I had to.

    Ray done stole the payroll. He was goin' to hell and the chain gang for sure, Mama and me along with him if I didn't get that money back to the mill.

Come winter we had our share of problems and a right bit of somebody else's, too. That day our house burned down, Mama and Lexie was over at Decatur Hospital seeing about Little Irl when the ambulance come took Ray over to Grady.

    "That's the best hospital for burns, Lori Jean," Mz. Hawkins said. "Couldn't do no better in Georgia."

    Which were a good thing 'cause Ray near died and wasn't out of the woods yet. His face was burnt real bad; his hands, too. But his lungs was burnt the worst. They had him in a 'tensive care place. Mama could sit with him, but she had to put special hospital clothes on and paper shoes and a paper cap over her hair even, on account of Ray couldn't be round no germs a'tall. Mama said he was in terrible pain and they give him these shots to help some when it got at its worst.