Greetings from Nowhere (12 page)

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Authors: Barbara O'Connor

BOOK: Greetings from Nowhere
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Kirby walked along the side of the road, kicking a rusty
soda can ahead of him. It bounced and clanged on the steamy hot asphalt. The early morning fog still hung over the treetops in the distance.
Every now and then a car whizzed by, stirring up a warm breeze. Then the air would settle back down.
Thick.
Still.
Hot.
The puddles along the roadside were drying up fast, the red mud turning back into hard-packed clay.
Kirby didn't know how far he had walked. After a while,
he went down a side street off the main highway, passing several houses, some gravel roads, a trailer park.
Eventually, he left the road and pushed through the weeds and low-hanging branches until he came to a clearing. Along one side were big, flat rocks with sparkly flecks of silver that glittered in the sunlight. Kirby climbed onto the rocks and lay back, feeling the heat seep right through his clothes to his skin.
He looked up at the clouds, studying their shapes. One looked like an elephant. Another like an angel with outspread wings. Another one looked like stairs. Soft, cottony stairs.
Kirby imagined himself walking up those stairs.
Up and up and up.
To where?
Anywhere would be good.
Anywhere was better than here, next to the winding mountain road that led to the school for losers like him.
He took Loretta's pin out of his pocket and studied it. He tilted it back and forth. The tiny rhinestones sparkled in the sun.
He put the pin back in his pocket and stayed up there in the clouds all morning.
 
 
When he got back to the motel, Room 1 was empty. His mother was probably checking the mail again, looking for the money that Virgil had supposedly sent. Their broken-down car had been towed to the Texaco gas station a few days ago, but the mechanic wouldn't fix it until he got some money.
Kirby took the shoebox that Burla had given him out to the picnic table. He fished through the stuff inside until he found the folded-up postcard.
Greetings from the Great Smoky Mountains
He crossed out
the Great Smoky Mountains
and wrote
Nowhere
.
Greetings from Nowhere
He turned the card over and thought about who to write and what he should say.
Dear Burla, I miss you.
Hey, Ace, I got a war patch.
Dear Virgil, I don't miss you.
Dear Dad, Thanks for nothing.
Kirby looked up at the sound of someone running toward him on the gravel parking lot.
“Hey, Kirby!” Loretta called. She was wearing a vest with long, leathery fringe and a sheriff's badge.
“Where've you been?” she said.
Kirby put his arm over the postcard.
Loretta sat at the picnic table beside him. “We went to Maggie Valley and rode a train,” she said.
Kirby pushed the postcard up under the box and went over to the swimming pool. He jumped down into the shallow end, ran to the deep end, trotted in circles around the drain a few times, and then climbed up the ladder. He bounced on the diving board. It made
boing, boing
noises that echoed in the still summer air.
“The train went through a tunnel,” Loretta said, sitting on the edge of the pool. “And then it stopped at a cowboy town.”
“That's upid-stay,” Kirby said. His brother, Ace, would have punched him for saying that. Or run off to tell Mama. He might have even cried.
But Loretta just kept on talking about that cowboy town and how she had a Buffalo Bill burger for lunch, and then out of the clear blue she said, “Will you help me look for my poodle dog pin tomorrow?”
Kirby stopped bouncing. “What?”
“Will you help me look for my poodle dog pin tomorrow?”
Kirby glanced at the sheriff's badge pinned to her fringed vest. He was thinking about telling her that she looked like an upid-stay aby-bay, but he didn't.
“Maybe,” he said.
“We're gonna make s'mores on the barbecue grill tonight,” Loretta said. “Wanna come?”
Kirby studied Loretta. Her freckly face. Her straight, dark hair held back with blue barrettes. “Okay,” he said.
 
 
Kirby slapped another mosquito and watched Loretta blow out her burning marshmallow.
Her parents sat in lawn chairs sipping beers. They called Loretta “LuLu” and hugged her a lot. They told Kirby to call them Irene and Marvin. They asked him questions nobody had ever asked him before. What was his favorite sport? Did he have a dog? How did he like the Smoky Mountains?
At first, Kirby had just mumbled a few words.
He liked baseball.
The Smoky Mountains were okay.
But after a while, he started talking more. He told Irene about the bird's nest on his windowsill last spring. How he had seen the eggs hatch and he still had some of the broken shells in his dresser drawer back home. He told Marvin about the time he'd won a baseball bat signed by the Atlanta Braves when he came closest to guessing the number of pennies in a pickle jar at the 7-Eleven.
He even told them about Burla. Her teapot wallpaper. Her thumbprint cookies. Her old dog, Barney.
He showed Loretta a couple of yo-yo tricks. He tried to teach her Hop the Fence but she couldn't get the hang of it. Everyone laughed when she got all tangled up in the string.
Even him.
After a while, Willow and her dad came out and joined them at the barbecue grill. Willow told them Aggie had a headache and had gone to bed early.
Kirby let Willow use his coat hanger to roast her marshmallow.
He did some more yo-yo tricks and everyone clapped.
When his mother hollered over from Room 1 that he needed to get hisself inside, everyone seemed disappointed.
“Ask her if you can stay a little longer,” Loretta said.
“Maybe tomorrow we can see if there's any fish in that creek back yonder,” Marvin said.
And Willow, who hardly ever said anything to him, said, “Thank you for the coat hanger.”
As Kirby trotted over to Room 1, he could feel that poodle pin in his pocket getting heavier and heavier.
He glanced back at the folks sitting out there by the barbecue grill. The folks who had been so nice to him.
Then he went inside, letting the door slam shut behind him.
“Maybe I should keep these,” Aggie said to Ugly.
She looked down at Harold's old plaid slippers in her lap.
“Remember that time he forgot he had them on and wore them to Sandy Ganner's piano recital?”
Aggie smiled at Ugly.
Ugly purred.
Aggie sighed.
“I don't know,” she said. “Maybe we won't like that condominium in Raleigh.”
She put the slippers on top of the pile of clothes on her bed. Then she pushed aside the curtain over the doorway to the office and peered in.
Willow wasn't there.
Aggie was surprised how disappointed she felt. Funny how quickly you got used to having someone around.
She studied the office. That new paint color looked nice. Brightened the place up a bit.
But where were the cup hooks?
The postcard rack was easier to reach over there in that corner.
But where were the complimentary maps?
“Well, good morning!”
Aggie jumped.
Clyde Dover stepped into the office, carrying a steaming cup of coffee.
Willow trailed behind him, sipping orange juice through a straw. “Has the mail come yet?” she said.
Aggie looked over at the basket where Clayton Underwood always left the mail.
“Not yet,” she said.
“I was thinking maybe you ought to go ahead and change your mailing address,” Mr. Dover said. “You know, so you won't miss out on anything.”
Aggie chuckled. “Only thing I'd miss out on is bills and bad news.”
“Guess what,” Mr. Dover said. “There might be a tour group coming here in a few days.”
“Really?”
A tour group! Aggie felt a little twitch of excitement. “We
used to have tour groups staying here all the time,” she said. “Well, not all the time. But once in a while.”
Aggie looked out the screen door to the parking lot, picturing the Greyhound bus full of folks from up in Gatlinburg or over in Chattanooga. One time a school bus came. A school bus full of children from some school in Charlotte. Harold had entertained them with magic tricks out by the pool. The pool had had water in it then. Clear, sparkling water.
“It's not for sure yet,” Mr. Dover said. “But I've been talking to this travel agent over in Asheville, and I'm waiting to hear.”
Aggie adjusted her glasses and studied Mr. Dover. He looked proud. And hopeful. And a little nervous.
Just the way she and Harold must have looked all those years ago when the motel was brand-new.
“Of course, I got a lot of work to do on some of them rooms,” Mr. Dover said. “Carpets need cleaning. A couple of window blinds are broke. And that showerhead in Room 8 needs replacing.”
Aggie nodded. “That dang thing never did work right,” she said.
“I thought I'd have time to get the lawn chairs washed, but now I've gotta see about the light fixture in Room 3.”
And then Willow's quiet little voice chimed in, “Maybe Aggie should stay and help us.”
Aggie looked at Willow.
Willow looked at her father.
Her father looked down at his shoes.
And the room filled up with silence.
Mr. Dover cleared his throat.
“Well …” Aggie said.
“Those rooms won't be ready if that tour bus comes,” Willow said. “And then nobody will want to stay and then—”
“Willow,” Mr. Dover said, “why don't you go put them tissue boxes in the rooms, like I told you to.”
Aggie watched Willow turn and push the screen door open like it was made out of cement. “I reckon I better go water my begonias,” she said.
 
 
Outside, the sun streamed through big fluffy clouds in a blue, blue sky. Everything seemed to glitter. The gravel in the parking lot. The still-dewy grass around the flagpole.
Aggie took a deep breath.
“Honeysuckle,” she said out loud.
“Hey, Aggie!”
Loretta was running up the sidewalk toward her.
“Hey there,” Aggie said. “Where y'all going today?”
“Tuckaleechee Caverns,” Loretta said.
“Oh, you're gonna love it there,” Aggie said. “Me and Harold used to go there all the time.”
She snapped a dry, brown leaf off a begonia and tucked it into the pocket of her apron. “Some of those cave explorers used to stay here at the motel.”
“Spelunkers,” Loretta said.
“What?”
“Spelunkers. That's what cave explorers are called.”
“Well, ain't you smart?” Aggie hung her watering can on the hook by the outdoor spigot.
“I read it in the AAA book,” Loretta said.
Aggie dropped into a plastic lawn chair and wiped her neck with Harold's handkerchief.
“It's gonna be a scorcher today,” she said.
Loretta sat beside her. “Which place on my bracelet do you think we should visit next?” she said, holding her arm out and jangling her bracelet.
Aggie studied the little silver charms.
The starfish.
The cowboy boot.
The Statue of Liberty.
“Hmmm,” she said. “Well, I reckon if you don't mind big cities, the Statue of Liberty would be a sight to see. And I imagine you'd like Disney World.” She jiggled the Mickey Mouse charm. “But me? I'd go to Niagara Falls.”
Loretta looked at her bracelet and cocked her head. “Or maybe Texas!” she said, pointing to the cowboy boot.
Just then a car pulled into the parking lot. Clayton Underwood.
Aggie pushed herself up and went out to meet him.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey back at ya,” Clayton said. “You hit the jackpot today.”
He handed her a stack of envelopes.
“Uh-oh,” Aggie said. “Who did I forget to pay now?”
Clayton chuckled. “You got them boxes packed up yet?” he said.
Aggie felt a little flutter in her stomach. Not the good kind of flutter like you get on Christmas morning, but the bad kind, like you get when you think of something scary.
The flutter moved to her hands, making them tremble. Making them drop the envelopes.
Then it moved up to her face, making her chin quiver. “Um, not yet,” she said.
“You okay?” Clayton said, squinting up at her from under his camouflage hunter's cap.
Aggie gathered the envelopes scattered in the gravel.
She nodded.
“Gimme a shout when them boxes are ready, then,” Clayton said, tipping his cap and pulling out of the parking lot.
 
 
It was nearly lunchtime, and Aggie was still sitting in the lawn chair outside her room. Ugly lay curled up in her lap.
Willow and her father had gone to the hardware store.
Loretta and her parents were off to Tuckaleechee Caverns.
Kirby had fixed up that old bicycle in the shed and gone for a ride somewhere. His mother had walked down to the convenience store to pick up a few things.
Aggie had been so lost in thought, she'd forgotten all about the stack of envelopes that Clayton had brought until she spotted them there on the rusty metal table beside her. She picked them up and leafed through them.
The telephone bill.
The water bill.
A small white envelope addressed to Kirby's mother.
Darlene Tanner
.
“Well, look at this, Ugly,” Aggie said. “This is for Kirby's mother. Maybe it's the money she's been waiting for. You know, to get the car fixed.”
There was a bill from the soda machine company, marked
Urgent. Second Request.
On the bottom of the pile was a large manila envelope addressed to Willow.
Aggie grinned.
“This one's for Willow,” she said to Ugly.
She clutched the envelope against her chest. “I sure hope this is from that mother of hers she's been pining for so much, don't you?”
Ugly twitched his ear.
Aggie studied the envelope, running her fingers lightly across the front.
Then she looked up at the sky and said, “Harold, I don't know if you got any pull up there or not, but if you do …” She jabbed a finger at the envelope. “ … let this be from Willow's mama.”
Aggie gathered the envelopes, nudged Ugly off her lap, and shuffled up the sidewalk to her room.
But just before going inside, she looked up at the sky again and said, “By the way, her name is Dorothy.”

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