Tender Graces (12 page)

I ran to get my things so Aunt Ruby wouldn’t throw them away. Micah followed me, whispering, “Leave it, Vee!” But I didn’t want to leave everything. He helped me, then we pulled his stuff together. We kept waiting to hear Aunt Ruby running down the hall to get us. When we were back to the living room, she was looking through an address book while talking to herself. “I better call his Mam and Pap. Then his brother.” She looked up at us, “You two shitters still here?”

When I hurried to open the door, Micah went over to her and slapped the address book out of her hands. It flew across the room and hit the wall. His voice was like it came out of a drum full of water. “Uncle Ar-vile’s burning in hell and you will too, you mean whore.”

I couldn’t believe it. Aunt Ruby couldn’t either. Her mouth opened, then shut, opened and shut, like a big ugly fish. Micah turned around just like Daddy had and walked out the door. I ran out behind him while Aunt Ruby screamed that she’d kill us if we ever came back.

Micah said, “I’ll never come back, ever.”

I grabbed his arm as we ran across the yard, dragging our suitcases.

Daddy was half out of the Rambler. “Get in his car, you two.
Now
.”

We dived in the car.

Daddy took off down the hill, leaving a big dust cloud behind us.

I finally let out all my breath I’d been holding.

Daddy drove with one hand, the other he tapped beginning with the little finger and working his way to the thumb, over and over. He kept looking at Micah in the rearview, waiting for him to say something. When he didn’t, Daddy said, “What went on back there?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that.”

“Give you what?”

“Don’t be smart. This is serious.” Daddy looked over at me, and I touched my hair. He said, “That Aunt Ruby is a nutcase.”

Micah said, “So why’d you and Momma make us go there?”

At first Daddy didn’t say anything. Then he said real quiet, “I don’t know, son. I don’t know.” He ran his tapping hand through his hair, leaving it on top of his head, holding in the thoughts he didn’t want to let out.

I held my breath in again, and let it out slow. I knew if I let one tear fall, the rest would rush on out. I wasn’t going to be a baby.

Daddy traded hands, tap tap tapping. “How about we stop for some hamburgers, put all this Ruby stuff behind us, huh?

I nodded, but I don’t know what Micah did.

We stopped at a diner mixed with a hotel. Daddy ordered hamburgers and fried potatoes with root beer floats. I felt like I was in one of my bad dreams that all a sudden turned good. Micah must have, too, since he looked the same as me. My brother gobbled down his food like he was starving. I laughed at his chipmunk cheeks until I remembered how many times Ruby had made him go to bed without supper.

Daddy sucked up his float with a loud sloopsh sound, then asked, “Isn’t this nice?” He sloopshed again.

“Yes, Daddy.” I wanted him to feel better. “It’s good.”

Micah didn’t talk.

When Daddy went to the bathroom, Micah asked, “Seestor, can I have the rest of your ta-toes?”

I handed them over, watched him cram a bunch in his mouth.

With his mouth full, he said, “Thanks for the po-taters, Vee-Katers.” He reached over and put me in a headlock. I thought I smelled Uncle Ar-vile’s hair grease.

Back in the car, I right away fell asleep and dreamed I was trying to climb my mountain while Aunt Ruby screamed and cussed and chased me. Every time I climbed up away from her, I’d start sliding back down. Then Grandma Faith sat beside me. She kissed me on the cheek and said little mites like me shouldn’t have to hurt. I leaned against her, feeling happy she’d run off Aunt Ruby.

I woke when we were at the end of our long road. Daddy drove up to the house, stopped the car, and left it running. He sat holding onto the steering wheel. Micah hurried to get out and the slammed car door made me jump.

I asked, “Daddy? Aren’t you coming in?”

“No, Bug.”

“Are you going to the store to get some milk?” I showed all my teeth.

I couldn’t see his eyes in the dark. “Bitty Bug . . . ”

“Okay, Daddy, you go on to the store and I’ll be waiting.” I grabbed my suitcase, opened the car door slow, to give him time to tell me the truth. When he didn’t say anything, I eased out and closed the door. By the time I was on the steps, he was backing out of the driveway.

I threw down my case and went straight away to Momma and Daddy’s bedroom to search through the closet and his dresser drawers. I slipped the shaving brush he left into my pocket. Momma came to the door holding Andy. She didn’t say a word about my hair. I stared at her with my arms across my chest. She’d lied. Grown-up vacations didn’t make everything magic-good.

She took me by the hand and led me into the living room where Micah sat on the couch drawing.

Andy asked, “Ginny Kate? You hurt?”

My eyes burned and itched. Momma pointed to the couch. I sat next to Micah, and she put Andy on the other side of me. She went into the kitchen and came back with big gooey brownies. We sat down on the floor and ate. Momma told us stories about when she was a kid, and I scooted up closer to hear every word. It was as if everything was a dream.

“Remember I told you about Petal Puss? That pig looked after me just like Bruiser watched over Ben. Too bad Bruiser died before Ben did or else maybe he’d a saved him from blowing his own . . . ” Momma rubbed her eyes. “Oh, my baby brother.”

“Petal Puss sounds good, Momma. I wish we had a pig,” I said, so she wouldn’t remember Uncle Ben under the willow tree, dead with a bullet hole in his brain. Gone dead on purpose.

Momma’s smile came back. “Yes, and a dog. We could marry them and have digs or pogs. Baby poglets. A whole yard of Petal Pusses and Bruisers.”

“I remember Bruiser,” Micah said. “He had one ear and was old as my teacher—and she’s real old. And I liked Uncle Ben. He was like he was my age even though he wasn’t. He showed me how to write my name fancy.”

“He was spoilt rotten,” Momma said, but she smiled.

“So what about the pig?” I asked.

“I raised it up from a baby. Even let it come in the house when your grandpa wasn’t around.”

Micah said, “Grandpa was mean. I remember when he hit Grandma in the face, right in front of me!” He looked like Little Joe did before he took ahold of the bad guy. “Grandpa’s like Aunt Ruby, even meaner.”

“Let’s don’t talk about that, okay? Let’s talk about Petal Puss the Pig.” Momma looked far away, long enough for Andy to get bored. When she said the next part, she said it very quiet, and I knew Momma’s happy left her. “I loved that pig and my daddy butchered it. Made bacon out of it. My daddy’s a bastard.” Her eyes had mad ray beams coming out. “I’ll never have pork, ever. It’s like eating a dog.” She jumped up fast and turned on the television. Micah fiddled with the rabbit ears and we sat and watched
The Danny Thomas Show
, then we went to bed.

Later that night, I heard Momma crying. I went and peeked through the crack left in her door. She was sitting on her bed, holding one of Daddy’s shirts against her face. She finally lay down, covering herself up with the shirt. When I didn’t hear any more sounds, I sat outside her bedroom and leaned against the wall.

Next I knew, Micah was there to help me back to my room. I climbed under Grandma Faith’s quilt. Micah sat in the chair by my bed and looked out my window. When I woke up later he was gone and the house was still. I waited to hear Daddy’s shoes, but he never came home.

A few weeks after we came back from Aunt Ruby’s house, I was sprawled on the floor watching cartoons when Momma tore open a big envelope and spilled out what was inside. She hollered, “That bitch!” threw everything on the coffee table, and marched herself to the phone. I heard her yelling at Aunt Ruby.

I looked at what had Momma so riled. It was the pictures Aunt Ruby took of Micah and me after she beat us up. My stomach clenched up like a big fist, but I shoved one in my pocket.

She was on a tear. “I never want to see you again! Nobody hurts my sweet babies!” She hung up the phone with a bang.

Bugs Bunny was telling Elmer Fudd he wouldn’t track him down til hunting season, and it made me think how everybody lied; they just don’t always know they’re lying when they say things. Or maybe they do. It was too hard to figure out.

Chapter 11

The party was over

Daddy came over for my seventh birthday and we had a party even though I thought nobody felt like it. Momma made my favorite, coconut cake with extra coconut. Daddy cranked and cranked the ice cream maker. We kids ate the salty ice that fell out while waiting for the cream to freeze. The radio blasted out of the window and we listened to it on a blanket under the tree. When
Hello Mary Lou
came on, Daddy and Momma danced.
The Purple People Eater
came next and Micah laughed all the cake right out of his mouth. Andy jumped up and down like a happy fool. I grinned at them all and waited to open my presents.

There were pick-up sticks and a Cootie game from Momma, Micah drew me a picture of Mrs. Mendel’s cat, Andy colored a blue horse from his coloring book, and Mrs. Mendel gave me a Mr. Potato Head. The best present of all was from Daddy, even though I didn’t let on it was the best to everyone else. He gave me an Instamatic camera just like his, with film already put in it. Mee Maw sent three more rolls and some money to develop them with. I snapped pictures right away. Everybody smiled like in toothpaste commercials.

I thought Daddy was coming back, seeing how Momma and Daddy danced, smiled, and struck poses for the camera with each other. Momma’s cheeks were glowed up and she laughed like she had a long time before. But next thing I knew, someone honked a horn.

Daddy picked up his hat, said, “Katie, I’m leaving the Rambler for you.”

“Well, how noble of you. How galoot.”

“You mean gallant.”

“No, I didn’t.” And Momma marched into the house.

“Well, children, I have to be going.” Daddy tried to kiss all of us, but Micah turned his head.

I thought we’d all ask him to stay, but we stood there. Birds had pecked our talk boxes out. Daddy turned, loped around to the front of the house, and was gone. The party was over.

I started second grade even though my hair didn’t have time to grow out right. Momma tried to fix it as best she could. She said, “Ruby did the same thing to me when I was a girl your age. She’s got her nerve.”

First grade had been easy, especially with Mrs. Lindy, even though I missed a lot of classes so I could help with Andy since Momma said he could get so tiresome with all his wants and needs. In my cigar box, I put in crayons, thick white paste in the little jar, scissors, pencils, and erasers. I opened the box and smelled it over and again. Momma bought me a plaid jumper, white shirt, white socks, and Mary Janes, and everything felt stiff and new.

The first week of school, Momma pulled my hair into two funny pigtails and put a rubber band on the ends. After that, I went around with wild hair instead of the pigtails. Momma was good with beginnings, but not so good with keeping up with stuff.

The weather turned cool again and the maple burned its color, along with most all the other trees. In school, I sopped up all the stuff I could learn. Reading was my favorite thing. And Micah was right; my least favorite thing was my teacher. Mrs. Penderpast was meaner than a nest of wasps, and at least two-hundred-years old. She hollered at us, told us we were heathens, and made us stand by our desks for an hour if anyone talked in class out of turn. Right after Halloween, Mrs. Penderpast died. Just up and died right in the class.

There was a big boy named Edsel. The teacher was always making him bend over in front of the whole class while she paddled him. I squinched my eyes shut every time she swung.

Poor Edsel. The kids laughed at his big belly, his crooked teeth, and his goofy ways. He went around the playground by himself, picking his nose and scratching his butt. Most times he smelled like pee and that kept the other boys from beating him up, since they didn’t want his pee and boogers on them. I felt sorry for him, but I wasn’t stupid enough to try to make friends with him and get his cooties.

That morning before Mrs. Penderpast died, she had paddled poor Edsel because he forgot his homework. I heard him sniffling and right then I imagined what it was like to be Edsel. I wanted to grab that paddle and make Mrs. Penderpast bend over. My face was hot with the mad that took hold of me. She was three licks in, when I couldn’t stand it anymore. I said, “Mrs. Penderpast, you best stop hitting Edsel.”

She turned and stared at me. “What did you say?” She held the paddle in the air, ready to throw it at me. Edsel looked like a cross between in-love and grateful.

“He can’t help how he is.” My heart beat hard enough to make my shirt move.

A girl in the back row said, “Ohhhh.”

“This class is punished. I’m sending a note home to all your parents, you hear me?” She sat at her desk and put her head in her hands, breathing hard for a bit before she rose up at me. “And you, Miss Smart Mouth, I’ll be dealing with you.”