When Ratboy Lived Next Door (11 page)

My heart pounded like a sledgehammer against my ribs while Elliot worked on my bike. When he finished, he handed me the extra bike link, put the tools and hoe back into the shed, then closed it.

I hadn't moved. He came back to where I was standing. He finally looked at me and said, “So you can't see anything about Willis that's good. Is that right?”

A little hollyhock doll worked its way through my thoughts. But for all I knew, Beth could be allergic to hollyhocks and Willis had made them to be mean. Or maybe it hadn't been Willis who'd made them. She could have been confused about that. She was only four, after all. So I pushed the thought back down. “No,” I said. “I can't see anything good about him.”

Elliot ran his hand through his hair and looked off for a minute. Then he said, “Willis can't always help the way he acts. He's not all bad. He just needs special handling. I try to give him that. He could use more people in his life who try to give him that.”

Then he went back over the fence that divided our yards. It might as well have been an ocean.

9

I spent most of my time indoors the next few days—which was a purely stupid thing to do, because when I was inside the house Nanna always put me to work. Still, what choice did I have? I'd apologized to Elliot and it hadn't done any good. Since I didn't know what to say to him now, I tried to avoid him. I also wanted to avoid Willis, just because he was Willis.

I couldn't avoid Beth, though. Nanna was fixing to visit her sister, Louise, in Michigan. Even though she'd be gone only one week, she didn't want Mrs. Merrill to forget how to drive a car. Every day the two of them went on a drive early in the morning, leaving me to babysit Beth. It wasn't really much work, though.

Nanna had me run all her errands in the afternoons. She always wrote her grocery list on the outside of an envelope and put money and coupons inside. I never even bothered looking at it before I left because her lists were so exact. If she wanted dishwashing detergent she'd write under the heading of Hanson's, “Thrill, large bottle, third aisle at rear.” Sure enough, if you went down that third aisle at Hanson's A&P to the back of the store, you'd find Thrill.

I was just finishing up Wednesday's shopping when I looked at the last item. She'd made a new heading, Evan's, which meant Evan's Drugs. Then she'd written, “Toni Home Permanent. Ask what shelf it's on. Read box. See if rods included. If not, buy one bag permanent rods, medium size.”

Mother and I both had a natural wave in our hair that never came out. Nanna's hair had been the same since I'd known her, coiled braids pinned on top of her head. I couldn't imagine what she wanted the Toni for.

When I got home, Nanna was sitting in a kitchen chair in the Merrills' yard. Her long white hair was wet and hanging straight down her back. Mrs. Merrill was combing it.

I carried the groceries to the back door, eyeing the two of them. They were talking low and laughing until Nanna saw me.

“Oh, Lydia! Did you get the Toni?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Good, bring it out as soon as you put the groceries away, hear? I want to read the directions to Carolyn.”

I couldn't walk away without saying something. “Nanna, what's going on? You can't mean to curl your hair with a permanent! They don't make rods big enough to wind your long hair on.”

She seemed to be thinking it over. “You know, Lydia, you're absolutely right. My long hair won't go on those little bitty rods. So, Carolyn … I guess you'll just have to cut it off!”

She and Mrs. Merrill laughed as if it was the funniest thing they'd ever heard.

I put the groceries away, then handed Nanna the permanent and rods. She thanked me and went on chatting with Mrs. Merrill, who held Nanna's hair and ran her fingers through it. She chewed her bottom lip like someone having second thoughts.

Good, I thought. It's about time somebody came to her senses. But, no, she picked up the scissors and cut Nanna's hair straight across at the base of her neck. I felt as though she were cutting my skin when she did it. I looked at Nanna's face as the hair fell at her feet, but she was holding her glasses to her nose and reading the Toni instructions out loud.

Then Mrs. Merrill began cutting Nanna's hair shorter on top. Short as a man's! I couldn't stand to watch anymore. I got on my bike and left.

That night I came home to a new Nanna. I thought she looked as if she had white puffs of cotton stuck all over her head. But she giggled like a schoolgirl when Daddy asked if she was Mother's younger sister. Even Mother joined in and said she was getting jealous of Daddy flirting with Nanna.

Nanna kept saying, “Oh, you two! Won't Louise be surprised when she sees me?”

“She'll think you're a movie star,” Daddy said.

Nanna laughed at that. “I told Carolyn she has a real knack for hair. I told her I'd never have let just anybody cut my hair. Why, I had twenty years of growth hanging down my back to prove that! But it was plain as day that she could do hair. Don't you love hers? I keep telling her, she's the spitting image of Jackie Kennedy.”

When I went upstairs to bed, I stopped at Nanna's room to say goodnight. From the doorway I saw her reach up as if to touch her hair, then stop halfway and drop her hand. It landed palm up on her dresser, overturning a bowl of bobby pins, which spilled out onto the vanity.

I watched her face in the mirror. She didn't even blink at the noise the bowl made. Despite the way she acted about her new hairdo, she had the same sad look on her face that she got when she heard some elderly person from our church had died.

*   *   *

The change in Nanna was nothing compared to the one I saw in Mrs. Merrill. She had stopped wearing that worn-out green suit. Instead she wore what looked like boy's clothes. I figured she took Willis's and Elliot's-too-small shirts and pants for herself.

It might sound funny, but she looked better in them than she ever did in her fancy old suit. They were threadbare but clean. She rolled the pants up and they looked like pedal pushers. She wasn't afraid to borrow our clothesline now, and one day I saw her with a pan of water scrubbing the windows of her house with a newspaper. It was as if she woke up and realized she had things to take care of.

And Beth! She seemed to be getting the most out of the change in Mrs. Merrill. Her face was always scrubbed now, and her stringy hair was in either a ponytail or pigtails tied with old pieces of ribbon. She looked right pretty.

I made it a point to whistle when I first saw Beth in her new hairdo. “Woo, Beth! You look mighty fine today!”

“Mamma fixed my hair! She says when I'm older, she'll give me a Toni Home Permanent!”

Oh Lord.

*   *   *

Friday night, Nanna was the first one ready for the Free Show. She took Daddy's arm and walked with her head held high.

Nanna settled herself on the benches Daddy and Sam had finally put in. Mrs. Beulah Duvall spotted Nanna as soon as we got there. Her mouth dropped open and she said, “Good heavens, Lydia Baldwin! What did you go and do to yourself?”

“I believe I improved myself, Beulah. I found the most wonderful beautician, right here in Maywood. She gave me a modern hairdo. Why, no one wears coiled braids anymore.”

Mrs. Duvall wore a crown of braids. I held my breath. Nanna stared at her. Mrs. Duvall mumbled that she had something to see to. When she scurried away, Nanna took one last shot at her. “Beulah! If you'd like the name of that beautician, you just let me know. You hear?”

I broke out laughing. Nanna winked at me. I sat next to her and threw my arms around her. I gave her the biggest hug I could.

“Why, baby! What's this for?”

“No reason, Nanna. I just love you. That's all.”

*   *   *

Monday was another hot day. The temperature kept climbing, and the higher it climbed, the lonelier I felt, since Elliot still wasn't talking to me.

I'd finished my chores early that morning and watched Beth while Nanna and Mrs. Merrill drove to the license branch to get Mrs. Merrill's driver's license.

Nanna seemed even happier about it than Mrs. Merrill did. After Beth and Mrs. Merrill went home, Nanna said, “She passed those tests with flying colors.”

Nanna took off her hat, put on her apron, and turned back into her old bossy self. “Why don't you find something to do outside,” she said. “I'm so busy today I don't need a youngster underfoot.”

Nanna's train was leaving in two days for Great-Aunt Louise's.

I went outside, but Willis was playing with Zorro in his backyard. I decided I'd rather get into trouble for being “underfoot” than have to talk to him. I wandered to my room, but it was too stuffy. When I no longer heard Nanna rattling dishes, I grabbed Robert's picture out of its hiding place, then headed to the kitchen.

I stared at Robert, thinking that if I looked at him hard enough, he would give me the solution to my problem with Elliot. It didn't work.

I walked into the kitchen and set the photo down while I poured a glass of ice tea. Voices were coming from the living room. Nanna had
As the World Turns
on the television set. She always set up the ironing board in front of the TV to watch her soap operas, which were the dumbest shows I'd ever seen.

I made my way into the living room, where Nanna was holding a bottle of water with a sprinkler attached to the top. She sprinkled the clothes until they were damp, then rolled them up. She ironed them one by one, while some lady named Lisa griped about her husband, Bob, on television.

Normally I avoided ironing time because of the soap operas, but since Nanna was going to Louise's on Wednesday, I wanted to stay near her. I knew she never meant it when she threatened not to return. Still, that always made me a little nervous.

“Hi, Nanna.” I flopped down on the sofa.

“Feet on the floor, young lady. What brings you in here? I know how you hate my soaps.” She looked over the top of her glasses. “I also know you didn't show up to help with the ironing.”

“No, ma'am. I'm just feeling kind of restless.”

“Restless? Need me to give you a job?”

“Nah, it's not that.” I set my ice tea on a coaster. “Nanna? Can you tell me another Robert story?”

“Another Robert story? Well, let me think of one I haven't told you.”

“Yes, Nanna, let's hear
another
Robert story.”

I sprang upright on the sofa. Mother stood in the kitchen door, holding the picture of Robert I had left by the refrigerator.

“Mother.” The word came out as a plea. I wasn't sure for what.

“Maybe you could start by explaining why Robert's father isn't in this picture,” Mother said. “I'm sure you're the one who tore it in half, right, Nanna? Lydia wouldn't have any reason to tear Philip out of the photo, but you do.” When no one said anything, Mother asked a little louder, “I said, isn't that right, Nanna?” She spit out the question one word at a time.

Nanna took a newly ironed blouse and hung it on a hanger, as if nothing serious were going on. “Why are you home so early, Evelyn?”

“I have a headache. Now answer my question.”

“Yes, I did tear it in half. Philip was Robert's daddy and he's not related to Lydia. He has nothing to do with her.”

“Or me, anymore! Or you! Isn't that what you want to say? Oh, I can just hear your thoughts: ‘He's dead now, thank God! No more Philip around. Let's get rid of any evidence that he ever lived.' I know how your mind works.” Mother's voice kept getting higher. “And why does Lydia know about Robert? There was no reason for her to know. All these years I thought she didn't. Why did you go behind my back and tell her?”

I was on my feet, ready to say that Nanna hadn't told me. It was Daddy, and only because I'd overheard a private conversation. It was all my fault. But they didn't give me a chance.

“You were Robert's mother, but that doesn't mean you own him,” Nanna said. “He's Lydia's brother. She has a right to know about him.” She was so very calm.

“Oh, I get it. You've been filling her mind with stories that she's not an only child, is that it? Like she's got this—” She smacked the picture with the back of her hand for emphasis. Then her face crumpled and her voice softened as she said, “This fourteen-year-old brother.” She looked up and her voice gained strength. “Well, did it occur to either of you that Robert would be close to thirty years old now? That even if he were here, he wouldn't be, oh, I don't know, riding bikes and walking her to school? What thirty-year-old wants a little girl hanging around?”

She was right. I guess I'd pictured him being fourteen forever.

“That's enough!” Nanna scolded. “Evelyn, you're getting hysterical.”

“Hysterical? Maybe so. Maybe I was
hysterical
when I let Glen ask you to come live with us. Maybe I was
hysterical
for ever thinking I could stand having you in my life day after day.”

In a quiet voice Nanna said, “But who would have raised the baby, Evelyn? You could barely stand to hold her.”

I felt a sob start in my chest and explode from my lips. Nanna and Mother looked at me. Before they could say anything more, I ran out of the room.

Deep down I knew Mother didn't want me. I'd always known it. Hearing the words out loud, though, made me feel that I'd just been murdered but my body didn't have the good sense to die.

10

I left the house through the back door. Zorro must have climbed over the fence into our yard because I tripped over him. I heard Willis yelling at me, but my head didn't let his words come through.

I scrambled to my feet and took off without a thought to where I was going. I just kept running. I don't know how long I ran. I know there came a time when I couldn't run anymore, so I walked. It was a blistering hot afternoon, the kind on which you could see squiggles rise up off the road. I ran again, until I heard a strange buzzing in my ears. Suddenly it seemed as if night was closing in on the outside of my vision. Then my legs felt like rubber and I slid to the ground.