Veda: A Novel (19 page)

Then the bottle’d be empty, and I’d walk to the store. Charlie never paid attention to how I spent the grocery money. Never noticed what I cooked, so I’d git me a bottle of Jim Beam and hide it.

.

40

W
HEN MAMA FIRST CAME
, we had four kids at home. Then Sam moved to Modesto and Janie got an apartment with a girlfriend in Sacramento. That left only Eddie and Kathy, and neither of them was around much. Eddie had his after school job and Kathy, well she spent way too much time with her boyfriend. And that was another big worry. She was barely sixteen. Way too young to be serious with a boy. She wouldn’t listen to me, though, and I tried to git Charlie to talk to her.

One night I seen this TV program about kids and drugs. Showin how people they called “pushers” hung around schools and got kids to try marijuana. It said once they smoked it, they’d be hooked. They’d go crazy and do all sorts of terrible things. I’d had a little bit to drink, and when Kathy got home I tore into her.

“Where’ve you been?” I asked. “I don’t know where you are half the time.”

“I was at Brian’s house,” she said, squirmin past me to her bedroom.

I followed her. “You spend too much time over there. You should be here. With your own family.”

“Here? Why should I be here? There’s nobody around.”

“I’m here. Grandma’s here.”

“But you’re not… here!” She waved her arms toward the livin room and kitchen. You’re always in there. With Grandma.”

“You could come in where we are.”

“Oh sure. I could listen to you read the Bible. Or I could watch Lawrence Welk with you. Give me a break.”

“You watch your mouth,” I said. “What’s happened to you? All you do anymore is sass me.”

“Mom, it’s true. You’re always in with Grandma. And Dad’s either at work or sleeping. There’s no life here. No fun, no conversation, no music. You don’t even cook meals anymore.” She said she remembered when the other kids were home. How we used to set around the table and eat together. How Rosalie was always cuttin up and makin ever’body laugh. How I used to sing and fool around with em.

“There were fights too,” she said, “but even that was better than this. It’s like a morgue around here now.”

“I don’t know where you are or what you do.” I said. “How do I know you’re not usin marijuana? And you’d better not be drinkin either.”

“I’m at Brian’s house, that’s where I am. With his family. Where they talk to each other. Laugh. Eat together. I’m not using pot. And I’m not drinking. But why shouldn’t I? You do. You’re drunk half the time.”

My hand shot out, and I slapped her.

I stood there, stunned by what I had done. Wishin I could take it back. “Oh honey,” I said reachin for her, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…”

She gave me a spiteful look. Said she hated me. Hated the way we lived. She ran out of the house. I was ashamed. Ashamed I slapped her. Ashamed I drank. Ashamed that she knew I drank. I went to the kitchen and poured the rest of the Jim Beam down the sink. Buried the bottle under papers in the trashcan. And promised myself I wouldn’t buy any more.

I felt like I was fallin apart. I was havin headaches, night sweats. The doctor said it was nothin to worry about. That I was just goin through the change. The headaches, that was just nerves. He prescribed Valium. Said it would help.

And it did. When I took one, things didn’t seem like such a big deal. Mama didn’t upset me, and I didn’t git so mad at Kathy. Two made me feel good enough to clean my house, do laundry, cook a nice supper.

In November Charlie’s boss give him a twenty-pound turkey and I was lookin forward to Thanksgivin, to havin a houseful of people again. The two older boys would be home and Janie was bringin a friend. Eddie had joined the service, so he wouldn’t be here, but I’d asked Kathy to invite her boyfriend, Brian.

On Thanksgivin I got up early and took a couple of Valiums. I made the stuffin, got the bird in the oven, and started in on the pies. I had to keep checkin on Mama, and when I started to feel like I was gittin behind, I took a couple more pills.

I don’t remember anythin after the pies. The ambulance or the hospital or none of it. Whatever happened was a accident, just a stupid accident, but I scared ever’body. And Kathy stayed mad at me for a long time.

.

41

I
COULDN’T HELP THINKIN
Kathy gettin pregnant was my fault. If I’d been a better mother, run a better house, paid more attention to her, to what she was doin, it wouldn’t of happened. I thought Charlie would blow up, but he didn’t. He just went slack, like all the starch was gone out of him. “Bring Brian over here,” he said. “We’ll have a talk.”

Kathy and Brian stood in our livin room, holdin hands. Kathy’s eyes blazed with determination. “Brian’s mom didn’t freak out,” she said. “She’s on our side.”

“Well so are we,” I snapped. “Why would we be against you?”

“Because you always are.”

“That’s not true and you know it.”

“Veda, enough…” Charlie made a quick motion across his throat. He held his breath and let it out with a low whistle. “I know somebody,” he said. “He could help you get—”

“No!” Kathy looked like she was goin to cry. “We’re not getting rid of it, Dad, if that’s what you mean. We want it. We’re keeping this baby.”

“Don’t be stupid. You’re kids. You have no idea.”

“It’s my life, Dad,” Kathy said.

Charlie glared at her for a minute. “Well, I guess you’ll find out for yourselves. So what do you plan to do?”

“We’ll get married,” Brian said.

“Okay,” Charlie raised his eyebrows, “how…?”

“Lorna … Brian’s mom…” Kathy said, “she’ll pay for us to fly to Las Vegas.”

“That’s the least of it,” Charlie said. “What will you live on? Do you have any idea what it costs to live … to raise a family?”

“I’ll get a job,” Brian said. “We’ll both get jobs.”

“And after the baby comes, then what?” Charlie asked. Nobody spoke for a couple of minutes, and I could tell Kathy was workin up the nerve to say somethin else. She glanced at Brian, then at me. “Mom, you’ll have to come to Las Vegas with us. You and Brian’s mom. You’ll have to sign for us.”

“Why Las Vegas? Why not just go to a judge, or have a quiet little weddin here at the house?”

Kathy and Brian looked at each other. “Here? No,” Kathy said, “Lorna says there are wedding chapels in Las Vegas that do the flowers and the music and everything. And there’s no waiting period. It will be easier that way. You wouldn’t have to…”

They had it all figured out. And what else was there to do? Unlike Charlie, I would never suggest they git rid of the baby. Brian was mature for his age, and I suppose Kathy was, too, even though she didn’t always act like it. She’d have to quit school, and I regretted that, but the deed was done. My baby was goin to have a baby of her own.

On the airplane, Kathy kept peelin my fingers off her arm, sayin I was makin bruises. My ears popped, wheels hit the ground with a bump, and I couldn’t hear what the pilot was tellin us to do. We got off the plane and the heat almost knocked me over. It was the end of August, 1968. Las Vegas must be the hottest place on the face of the earth.

Walkin into the cooled lobby of Caesar’s Palace, though, was like walkin into heaven. I looked around and could barely take it all in. The chandeliers, the gold and marble, the statues. I felt like, as Charlie would say, a turd in a punchbowl. The carpet was so thick I practically waded across the lobby to the registration desk. The kid behind it didn’t look much older than Brian.

He flashed me a big smile. “Can I help you?”

“I’d like to register.”

“All right. One bed or two?”

“Two.”

He pushed a heavy book at me and I wrote down my name and address. Then I paid him and he handed me a key.

“That’s just one key,” I said, puzzled. “I wanted two rooms.”

“You said two beds. One room.”

“No I didn’t. I said I wanted two rooms.”

“Ma’am, you said-–” He wasn’t smilin now.

“Well then, I made a mistake,” I said. “I need two rooms. So can I git another one?”

“That was the last one,” he said. “We’re full.”

I stared at him. I didn’t believe him for a minute. Place as big as that.

“There are lots of other hotels on the strip. Try one of those.” He shoved my money across the desk and turned his back. I was pissed. I knew how much Kathy and Brian wanted to stay at Caesar’s Palace.

“Never mind then,” I said. “We’ll keep this one.”

“Mom,” Kathy said when I told her what happened, “it’s our wedding night. What were you thinking?”

“It was a mistake,” I said, “and I’m sorry.”

I knew Kathy thought I’d spoiled ever’thin, but it wasn’t like I done it on purpose. Lorna laughed when I told her what had happened and we agreed to find a place in one of the other casinos, but first she wanted to see the kids’ room. It was on the fourth floor, at the end of a long hall. None of us could believe how grand it was. All the furniture, includin the beds, was shiny dark wood, carved with swirls and curlicues. The bathroom had tile, and crystal fixtures, and a window over the bathtub that looked out at all of Las Vegas. “It’s so fancy,” I told Kathy. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep in a room like this anyhow.”

We took a taxi to the Justice Center, where Kathy and Brian would git a marriage license, and set on a bench with half a dozen other couples. Brian and Kathy were the only kids, ever’body else looked a lot older. When it was their turn, all four of us went up to the window.

“Are you the parents?” the clerk asked. “I’ll need to see some I.D.”

Lorna pulled out her driver’s license and laid it on the counter. Then the man looked at me and said, louder, like maybe I didn’t hear him. “YOUR DRIVER’S LICENSE.”

“I… I don’t have one,” I said. “I don’t drive.”

“Well, ma’am, a passport then. A birth certificate?”

“I don’t… I didn’t think…”

“Ma’am, I need something to prove who you are. Do you have anything? Something with your name and address on it?”

My stomach knotted up. We’d came all this way, spent all this money, and the kids weren’t goin to be able to git married after all. I started to rummage around in my purse. My hands shook so bad I couldn’t get hold of anythin, so I dumped my purse on the counter. Lipstick, coins, wadded-up Kleenex. Kathy looked mortified. Finally I found a receipt from the Bible bookstore. It had my name and address on it. The man looked at me like he didn’t believe anybody could be so dumb. But he said it would do. I think he just wanted to git rid of me.

The Chapel of the Bells was done up in soft colors, with pews and big baskets of plastic flowers. A little white-haired man greeted us. “I’m Reverend Smalls,” he said. Then he pointed at a big woman whose flowery dress made her look like a overstuffed armchair, “and that’s the missus over there at the organ.”

Brian was in a new blue suit, and Kathy had on a short white dress and a cute little hat with a veil. Standin there, sayin vows, they seemed older than sixteen. They looked so proud and happy that I decided to stop worryin. I told myself they’d be fine and Kathy would git over bein mad at me.

After a nice dinner at one of the Caesar’s Palace restaurants, the kids went up to the room and me and Lorna headed for the casino. All the way to Las Vegas Lorna had talked about playin the slots and, with the weddin over with, she wanted to gamble for a while before we went out to look for a room. The smell of cigarette smoke made my head spin, so I set down at the first vacant slot machine. I started winnin right away. Bells went off, nickels flew out and made a awful racket as they hit the pan. It was excitin. I’d win, and then put the nickels back in till I won again. I was havin so much fun I lost track of time. When I finally ran out of nickels, I realized it was way past midnight, and we still had to go out and git a room.

I found Lorna in one of the bars, drunk, with her head on the table, and I set down next to her.
Shit,
I thought,
we can’t go out with her in this shape
. Then I noticed ever’body was starin at a television over the bar. The sound was off, but I could tell it was some kind of riot. People runnin ever whichaway. Cops hittin people with clubs, kickin em, draggin em by the hair. It was horrible. I didn’t understand what it was all about.

“Democratic Convention,” somebody said. “Damn hippies protesting the Vietnam War.”

I shook Lorna. “Come on,” I said, “we gotta go.” I shook her again. I wanted to go tell the kids what was happenin. I thought they needed to know.

I got Lorna to her feet and sort of half-walked, half-dragged her to the elevator and down the long hall. I pounded on the kids’ door and it was several minutes before it opened a couple of inches and was stopped by a chain. Kathy peeked out. She looked annoyed. “Mom? What’s wrong?”

“Turn on the TV,” I said, “you won’t believe your eyes.”

I was sorry about bargin in on the kids like that, but once they turned on the TV and seen what was happenin, they weren’t mad. Lorna laid down on the second bed in the room and went to sleep, while me and Kathy and Brian set watchin that horrible scene play over and over and over. The Vietman War had been on the television news almost every night and Charlie seemed to think it was okay, fightin commies and all that, but I didn’t like watchin it and I tried to block it out. Except for Eddie, who was in the Coast Guard, my boys were done with their military service so it hadn’t seemed personal to me. But seein this thing, this riot, all these young people… the ones bein made to fight… to git killed for somethin they didn’t believe in… made me take notice in a way I hadn’t before.

Brian wasn’t eighteen yet, but soon he’d be the right age to git drafted. He’d just got married. Had a baby on the way. I could see now how scared he and Kathy were. And I was scared too. For them, for me. I couldn't help but think what a hard time for a young couple to be gettin started. We hadn’t talked about none of that before, but we did now. We talked all night. Then the sun come up and we went and had breakfast.

.

42

I
WANT YOU TO TEACH ME
to drive,” I told Charlie. He had been after me for years, and I put him off. But after the shame of Las Vegas, I wanted a license. For identification, if nothin else. Besides, Kathy was gone now. All the kids were. If I needed to go anywhere, I had to wait on Charlie to take me.