All About B.A.D.
Authors: Melba Heselmeyer
All About B.A.D.
A novel
By Melba Heselmeyer
All About B.A.D.
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Melba Heselmeyer
Cover design by Yocla Designs
Edited & formatted by Michelle Josette
ISBN-13: 978-1508907060
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
To Robert, Jennifer and Rebecca.
With my eyes closed, I am flooded with memories sharp enough to prick my skin.
I see a tunnel created by rows of trees whose tops reach out to stroke one another. Occasionally, streaks of sunlight pierce this overhead mantle, creating a cool confine for bare feet in an East Texas summer. These stately sentinels are connected by a would-be fence of barbed spikes—a rusty string making a halfhearted attempt to cling to one lissome pine and then another—offering a boundary while keeping nothing in or out.
Narrow trenches, pared from powdery sand by wheels of a red-paneled wagon, run along the middle of this rural arbor. The solitude makes it a place ripe for dreams and fantasies, the perfect spot to begin an adventure.
Bernadette Ann Donahue lived at the end of this marvelous lane. She was called BAD, labeled by an unfortunate assembly of letters. She pretended annoyance at the nickname while relishing in the idea it set her apart. BAD, the owner of two knee-length pigtails of dark, glossy hair. Tall, gritty, fierce and fun. BAD’s house had little to offer. It was the journey there and back that made it special.
Not a Bad Habit
“BernaDETTE! You girls come on in. Getting dark; things lurk in the dark.” Mrs. Donahue’s words searched for us across their acreage. “Lilly, your folks will be worrying. Mr. Donahue will haul you home. Get your shoes.”
Mrs. Donahue, always orderly, had placed Lilly’s well-worn sandals by the first column on the ancient porch.
“Yes, ma’am, I know right where they are.”
Lilly was rarely ready to leave BAD’s house. There was always a stir in the air, a promise of adventure, a hint of mischief. These were heady feelings in a place where necessities were hard to come by. It was especially sad to leave now as Lilly had just recently been allowed back in BAD’s good graces after dismally failing one of her greater teaching moments. It was an experiment which had almost exiled them from the Lone Grove Christ Fully Divine Church.
It started with a simple action. Bernadette took the paring knife from her mama’s special kitchen box.
“Look pure, Lilly, and don’t be so jittery or Mama is sure to know something’s up.”
“Where are we going with that? You know what she says about taking things from their right places.”
“Hush. Follow me and swipe off that stupid grin.”
BAD’s glare wiped it from Lilly’s face. The giggle inside remained.
Lilly followed her out to where Mr. Donahue struggled to keep his vegetables alive. They passed the last straggly row and headed for their secret place. Near the entrance were the remains of a split rail fence hung with grapevines from another era. Bernadette sawed and hacked at one of these ancient creatures until the knife blade was rough and pitted.
“What are you doing with that?” Lilly was getting nervous.
“You’ll see, Lilly. In fact, you’ll see
first
.”
What she should have heard was, “Run, Lilly, run!” Instead, she stood waiting for Bernadette to finish grating away at the old finger of wood. BAD took the jagged piece of vine and rubbed it against her shirt. From her pocket she took a book of matches and marched into the hideaway.
“Okay, here’s what. You’re going to put this into your mouth like this and I’ll light it. Then you suck on it like it’s a straw and blow out hard. Got it?” She handed Lilly the weapon.
“BAD, I don’t know about this. Mama says redbugs live on these things.”
“So what? They can’t stand smoke, right? And I’m gonna put a match to it right away.”
“Why me? Why do I have to go first?”
“Well, somebody’s got to light it and I’ve got the matches.”
“Let’s trade.”
“Do you want to know about smoking or not? Decide now, and if you don’t then we’ll go right back to the house.”
Lilly didn’t like the tone of Bernadette’s voice. She sounded mean and dangerous. “Okay, okay, but be careful. I don’t intend on going home with a burnt nose.”
The vine tasted woody, earthy, dirty, and with just a hint of redbug. She thought she felt something crawl down her chin. BAD dragged the match across the package’s scratchy strip and it came to life spewing the smell of sulfur. She held it against the stubby tendril and waited for the flame to make its leap. After a short struggle, they had contact.
“How’s that? Taste anything? Are you sucking and blowing?”
Lilly struggled to follow instructions while worrying about what was scampering over her lips and down her throat. She drew in a long breath and slowly let it out like she’d seen Bubba Henderson do behind the school gym.
“Well?” BAD was getting impatient and fidgeting for her turn.
“Nothing,” Lilly said. “Nothing at all.”
“You aren’t doing it right. Suck in faster. My gosh, Lilly, really give it a go.”
Lilly pumped until dizziness threatened to turn her inside-out. “There’s something…I feel something.”
“What’s it like?”
“Like when you’ve twisted the rope swing to the top and let it go. I am spinning and my mouth’s a little numb.” That was the best she could do.
BAD wasn’t impressed. She grabbed the would-be cigarette and jammed it into her mouth, then inhaled and exhaled until both she and the old grape stem looked seriously distressed.
Pain, marching across Lilly’s skull and playing drums inside her brain, replaced the dizzy feeling. Her stomach turned a flip. BAD made Lilly leave the secret place when Lilly got the heaves. BAD, however, managed to hold everything down; it was her way.
“BernaDETTE! Lilly! Time to come in! Things lurk in the dark. Head back!” The voice had found its way to their secreted world.
“Come on, BAD. Your mama’s calling. Besides, I’m not feeling all that good.”
“What did you say?” BAD had been sitting cross-legged on the ground, head down, arms across her stomach. She raised her eyes, and the look on her face shouted volumes to Lilly.
Lilly worked to get her mouth around the words and push them out in sounds that made sense. Instead it was as if they stopped just beyond her teeth and fell to the floor of pine needles.
“Oh my. Oh dear. Oh my lord…” BAD’s words stumbled out.
Things weren’t sounding as if Lilly was about to get good news.
“Your lips. Purple! They’re purple. Huge. Lilly, your lips are huge!”
As the words reached Lilly’s ears, she felt her upper lip touch the bottom of her nose. The lower lip headed toward her chin. She needed water.
BAD got to her feet and stared at the swollen opening that was once Lilly’s mouth. Inside was a heavy tongue in shades of blue. Not good…definitely not good.
“Lilly, be calm.” BAD always knew how to create panic. “We’ll go back and get you some iced water. Don’t tell Mama.”
It hadn’t occurred to BAD at this point that a conversation with Mama wasn’t going to be the problem.
They got back to the house in a haphazard manner. One look from Mrs. Donahue and Lilly was placed in a kitchen chair with a cold compress against her face. She drank some white powdery liquid and began to pray.
“Am I gaw-naw be awright?” Animal sounds were pushed across the space.
Lilly began drifting between layers of brown haze. She saw Mrs. Donahue’s head bobbing slowly up and down, her regular-sized lips making little movements.
Dreams of bugs climbing and clawing their way across her face kept Lilly moaning throughout the night. She awoke in her bed the next day, ready to face her own angry mama.
BAD and Lilly were accused of many things during the ensuing years, but smoking was never one of them.