Saving Cicadas (19 page)

Chapter Twenty-eight
THE PROMISE

To be honest, I don't know how I got down out of that tree, whether I jumped, climbed down, or what. All I knew is I wasn't hurt at all, and I was sitting there on the ground with Rainey's head in my lap when Mama came up on us. She had an apron on and curlers in her hair. There was no makeup on her red-smeared face. “Oh good heavens, Rainey!” She ran up to me and touched Rainey's face. “Rainey! Are you okay? Rainey?”

Rainey's eyes were closed and she wasn't answering Mama.

“She jumped,” I said. “Just flat-out jumped from way up there. I did too, but I'm okay, Mama.”

Mama started wailing, and then I saw what she was looking at. Rainey's left arm was twisted under at an odd angle and turning purple. “Help!” Mama screamed, looking around her. “Heeeeelp uuuuus!” It was a scream I knew I'd never get over. In fact, for the next several days I'd wake in the night, hearing that same scream for help and looking up at Rainey's bunk to see if she was okay.

Her arm was broken in four places and her ankle was sprained. She had to stay off her feet for a while and got a crutch. Once the cast was on her and her head checked out okay, Rainey was enjoying that crutch, except for she couldn't get up the stairs real well. Mama showed her how to scoot up on her rear end and push with one foot, one step at a time. And she absolutely forbade her to slide down the banister, which is what I'd suggested, as it just made good sense, seeing as she wouldn't have to hop.

Mama was doting on Rainey's every need. During the day, she got all her books propped up around her and read
Corduroy
I don't know how many times. She kissed her on the forehead a lot. She smiled at her in a sad sort of way. She sat with her, sang to her, made me feel like I was absolutely nobody. I was starting to wish I'd broken my whole body in that tree. Maybe then Mama'd pay attention to me.

After several days of it, I heard Mama get on the telephone and whisper to an operator for a medical clinic over in Fervor. I heard her say “six to seven weeks.” Then she went ahead and made an appointment to go to see a doctor in two weeks. I was happy Mama'd finally made a decision to go see a doctor. Maybe having Rainey break her arm was what she needed to realize she had to take care of herself and that baby she was carrying. Maybe being in the hospital made her not so afraid to meet with a doctor.

Being in that blue gingerbread house with Rainey on a crutch and Poppy and Grandma Mona for conversation, I'd tried to forget about Mama having a baby. If I'm honest, I played a little harder outside when she was around so I wouldn't have to think about the baby much or how much attention Rainey was getting instead of me. When she wasn't babying Rainey, Mama kept to herself, cleaning out cabinets, washing the windows. If I didn't know better, it looked like we might be staying a long while. Who really knew what Mama was thinking? Fritz came by for supper some days and mowed the grass once. I watched him do the whole lawn from start to finish, which took a really long time.

Mama kept those photo albums in her bedroom and looked at them every night before bed. She'd gone back up in the attic a couple more times, with me following, and we'd brought down more books. I never did see the ghost of Great-Aunt Gertrude and remained a little disappointed about that. Mama brought down some old clothes of Grandma Mona's too. Rainey could sit up and play in the hats and all, but she couldn't wear the dresses and could only put on one shoe. She didn't much care, just held them up to the mirror with one hand and laughed and laughed about how much we looked like Grandma Mona. It was actually fun for a few days after Rainey got more confidence in moving around. We shed our worries together and stuck to ourselves.

Then one morning I woke up early, before Rainey. I climbed down the stairs hoping to catch some time alone with Mama, but she wasn't in the kitchen. Instead, she was sipping her coffee on the front porch. I went over and sat on a rocker beside her. The morning smelled different, cleaner, smelled like grass to me. Cars weren't on the street yet but a few folks were walking their dogs. A breeze floated through the gazebo, casting wild, slow shadows from the trees across my skinny legs.

“It sort of reminds you of the sunporch at home, don't it, Mama?” She grinned over at me, took a deep breath, and pressed her hand down on mine. It'd been so long since I'd felt her touch. We sat there not talking, just listening to the sounds of Vinca Lane, the birds calling back and forth, the rush of the wind in the maple leaves.

“Looks like it might rain today,” she said.

We watched the white clouds rolling in and growing darker. Sitting on that porch, next to Mama, was the closest I'd felt to happy in a long time. Strange thing was, I knew her head wasn't really there, not with me. Maybe she was thinking about Rainey all crippled in her bed. Maybe she was thinking back on when she was a little girl, sitting on those very chairs. Or maybe she was months down the road from now, settled, with all her decision making done.

The only decisions I'd had to make were what clothes to put on. What channels to watch. What books to look at and read. What games to play with Rainey.

But not Mama. Her decisions were harder.

“I love you, Mama,” I said, thinking back on the trials of the last couple weeks. “No matter what, I'll always love you.”

“You sure are sweet, Miss Janie,” said Poppy, sneaking up on us. “What a good, kind heart you have. Such a good daughter. And a wonderful granddaughter.”

“And smart,” I added, grinning.

He chuckled and agreed. “So smart.”

“Might be a doctor or astronaut when I grow up. Don't you think, Mama? Think I could go all the way to the moon?”

“Wouldn't put it past her,” said Grandma Mona, coming out of the house and trying to be grumpy. For some reason, it wasn't working right now. She seemed distracted. “Janie, honey, why don't you go on inside. Play with your sister. She's up now. Your Poppy needs to have a talk with Priscilla.”

I looked up at Mama's face. Her eyes were closed like she was concentrating. More slow breathing. Then her hand let up off mine and she said, “Just go. Please.”

Poppy was smiling, I could see the silver caps on his molars, but at the same time, his eyes looked sad, moist, and red. “Come here, sugar,” he said to me, bending at the knees and squatting with his small, wrinkled hands held out.

I moved to him and he held me by the hips. “Janie Doe Macy. Do you know I'd do anything for you? Do you know you make my whole world go around and around? There's nothing more important to me than you and my family?”

“Yes sir. I guess so.”

He held me tighter still. “Don't you ever forget how important you are to this family. Hear me? To this whole wide world. All right? Promise.”

“All right, but why—”

“Janie, just promise me.”

“I promise. Poppy, what's going on? I—”

He pulled me in to him and hugged me tighter than I'd ever been squeezed. I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck and took in all that warmth. Being held like that didn't happen every day. Or ever. His heat got my head to feeling dizzy, and before I knew it, he pushed me away and cleared his throat. He stood up and turned to Mama. “Mona, take Janie on in now.” He gave Grandma Mona a hard kiss on the lips, something I'd never seen him do, then he winked at her, and when he did, a tear rolled down his brown cheek. Grandma Mona and I walked slowly, hand in hand into the house and out back, where Rainey was nibbling on a piece of toast and chasing butterflies. The white lantana seemed to be swallowing her up.

“Go on and help her, Janie,” said Grandma Mona. “The net's right there. I'm sure y'all will catch one yet.”

“But what's wrong with Poppy?” I said. “Is he going somewhere?” “Oh goodness. You could say that, sugar. Yes, you could say he's going somewhere.”

Chapter Twenty-nine
STUCK IN THE MIDDLE

“I wanna go with him!” I hollered. “Is he going back home!? I wanna go with Poppy!”

“Shhh, shh . . .” Grandma Mona pulled me to her and held me to her bony chest. It was the first time I could remember her doing that in many years. “It's okay,” she said.

“But when's he coming back?”

“It'll be a little while. Don't you worry.”

I asked and I pleaded, but I heard that sort of nonsense from Grandma Mona until I thought I might keel over. I knew Poppy was gone for good. There was too much secrecy and weirdness going on. Same as when my daddy left. I ran out onto the front porch and looked around for Poppy, but he was gone. No sign of him.

“Mama?” Mama was hunched over, holding her belly. She'd been crying and her face was all swollen. “Mama, you okay? Where'd Poppy go? What'd you say?”

Grandma Mona came and pulled me from behind and said, “Let's give your mama some space, all right? There'll be plenty of time for questions and answers and all that sort of thing after a while.”

I decided then and there I didn't like being a kid anymore. No one was honest with kids. No one thought they could handle the truth about grown-up things, but I could! I knew I could. When I became a grown-up someday I'd tell my children everything. I swore to it right then. Mama'd said something to Poppy, and now he'd gone away forever because of it. Here they were, two of the people I loved most in the world, and one was gone and the other remained, and I was stuck in the middle not liking it one bit.

Uncle Fritz called later that morning and said he had some papers for Mama down at the church. Mama said she'd be over after the Bobby Sue party. I'd forgotten all about that. I told her I didn't feel like going to a party, what with Poppy being gone, but she just hummed and showered and acted like nothing at all was wrong. In fact, I wondered about my Mama's state of mind then. How could a person be so unaffected—happy-seeming, even—about their own daddy leaving that very day?

Made no sense to me. I grumped up in my room. I was too mad at everybody to be sad. The real grieving for Poppy hadn't even started yet.

Rainey talked me into coming to the party at that fancy lady's house. She said we could wear makeup and look like Mama. She was excited, and well, when Rainey was excited, it made things that bothered you pale in comparison. I put my thoughts of where Poppy could have gone and when he was coming back on hold, just for Rainey's sake. 'Fact, she didn't seem too upset about Poppy at all, which wasn't like her. Rainey didn't like change. I figured, her being older, they'd told her something they'd withheld from eight-year-old me.

With Rainey's arm broken, the grocery store had only been letting her bag up one or two folks, and then only for the most patient customers because it took her so long. She was tired of being home so much and ready to get out and be useful again. Mama was starting to miss the money, and I could tell from the way she was putting on so she was hoping to fit in with the Bobby Sue gals and maybe even start selling cosmetics. I hadn't seen her excited about the prospects of work in a long, long time, or maybe never.

Mama walked up to Mrs. Arielle's house with a confident swagger. She had on high-heel black shoes, a form-fitting black skirt, and a pink and green blouse with flowers on it. She looked real nice and had worked an extra thirty minutes on her hair alone. It was swooped over smooth across her forehead, then pulled back in a ponytail with curls coming from it. It was strange seeing Mama with real curls on her head. She'd worked nearly as hard on Rainey. Rainey grinned and clip-clopped up the walkway to the house, wearing a long peach-colored dress with no sleeves that Mama was able to stretch over the cast on her arm. She was still limping a little on that twisted foot, but it was better now. She had on hard, white flat shoes that made her walk like a penguin, back and forth. I thought it looked funny, but she liked the way she walked. Rainey felt pretty and special in those shoes, I could tell. And me? Rainey'd asked Mama if we could wear a couple of Grandma Mona's hats. She said yes, so I was wearing a frilly one Grandma Mona gave me with a little net in the front, coming down over my eyebrows. Rainey's had a white ribbon that tied under her chin. “Spiffy” is what Grandma Mona'd called us before we left the gingerbread house.

We'd driven over to the Arielle residence in the Crown Victoria Police Interceptor, and everywhere we turned I looked to see if Poppy was walking or sitting or standing or up in a tree, for all I knew. I looked and looked but didn't find him.

God, wherever Poppy is, let him be okay,
I prayed.
Let him come home to us soon.

The doorbell played music, actual music instead of a ding-dong. I'd never heard of such a thing, but when I heard that music, it didn't surprise me. Instead, it just fit the house. It made sense that the door would announce the house's guests with real-live Dixie. The house was grander than the library even, white with long white columns in front. The grass was greener than it was on Vinca Lane. There were pretty ladies sitting in chairs, holding little pink drinks with umbrellas in them. A couple of them had hats like Rainey and me, but I thought ours were nicer.