Last in a Long Line of Rebels (2 page)

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

She smiled. “Well, don't make it look like such a struggle.”

“What are you doing today?” Isaac asked.

I shrugged. “Not sure. Benzer's coming over to hang out.”

“Doesn't he get enough of that working on Saturdays?”

“I guess not. Besides, we're going to make a plan.”

“A plan?” Bertie asked. “That sounds ominous.”

“We're trying to think of something exciting to do this summer. Hey, Jackson Parker's parents rented a houseboat last year.” I looked at Mama. “Does Daddy know anybody at the lake?”

“Right.” Mama brushed her hair off her forehead. “That's how I want to spend the last weeks of this pregnancy, in a bathing suit!”

Bertie laughed. “Why do you want excitement, anyway? That's a Northerner's invention.”

I grinned. “You mean like the lightbulb and automobiles?”

Mama put an arm around my shoulders. “You've got to get up pretty early to get one over on Lou, Mother.”

“Lord, don't I know it. That girl is sharp as a tack.” Bertie winked. “I like to think she gets it from me.”

Benzer threw an old basketball against my house. Tiny white flakes fell and drifted down with every thump.

“So we just have to come up with something exciting to do this summer. How hard could it be?” he asked.

I blew a dandelion and watched the wind carry the fluff across the yard. “Impossible. Nothing exciting ever happens around here. We haven't even had a decent fire since the courthouse burned, and that was over a hundred years ago!”

He shook his dark hair out of his eyes and threw the ball again. This time he aimed toward a bicycle rim Daddy had nailed on the light pole in the front yard.
Thwack!
“Who cares what Sally thinks anyway?”

I sighed. Sally had been teasing me throughout elementary school. I was going to try to not let her ruin junior high for me too. “I do. Face it, we need a miracle.”

A car pulled into the library across the street, and Mrs. Ray from the Five and Dime store waved at us as she got out. One of the best things about my home is how close it is to everything. I can walk to the square, the library, the museum, the town pool, the baseball field, and even the junior high.

I turned over and lay flat on the grass, looking at my house. The windows on the bottom floor were open, and the living room curtains moved in and out of the windows with the breeze. It felt like the house was breathing. There were four columns running across the front of the house, two of which had termite damage, and the porch seemed to sag a bit on one side, but for a house that was almost two hundred years old, I thought it looked okay. Sally's eyesore comment bugged me. A few years ago, the city made a regulation to prevent unsightly areas within the city limits, but Daddy said we were “grandfathered in.” I had thought that meant since my grandfather started the junkyard, we didn't have to change, but it was more like that we were here before the regulation, so they couldn't bother us. Daddy had enclosed the backyard with a fence, just to be neighborly, but it didn't take long for the junk to tower over it.

Benzer fell down next to me. “Why are you frowning?”

“Do you think the house looks bad? Be honest.”

“Not bad,” he said. “It looks old, but that just gives it character.”

“That's one word for it.”

I'm the latest in a long line of Mayhews that have lived here, and every one of them has added on in some way. The house is three stories, and Daddy says that the sunroom was probably added later, as was the large utility room off of the kitchen. His grandfather supposedly thought the house looked unbalanced, so he added more bedrooms on each side. Now the second floor has a total of four bedrooms, counting Bertie's, which used to be an upstairs parlor. It looks like a mess of rooms and random columns attached to nothing, all held together by overgrown grapevines, but it's ours.

Benzer pushed himself up on his elbows. “I know something exciting. You could go with me to the park and watch me hit balls over the fence. What could be better than that?”

“Absolutely anything?”

“You're in a great mood. Does your mom have any colas in the fridge? It's burning up out here.”

“Oh, come on.” I climbed to my feet. “Mama's on an organic juice kick right now, but I know where Bertie keeps her stash.”

We brushed the grass from our clothes and walked to the porch. The front door was open to let in the breeze, and I stood in the doorway letting my eyes adjust to the dimness. The living room was just off the foyer, and I motioned Benzer inside. “Wait here. I'll check if they're out of the kitchen.”

I walked down the hallway. Mama's and Bertie's voices drifted up from the cellar. Satisfied, I walked back to Benzer. “It should be okay. They're down in the cellar looking through my old baby clothes. That'll take hours.”

Benzer was on his knees in front of the bookcase, a large, dusty Bible in his lap.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I haven't seen this in forever. Not since your mother banned us from ever touching it again.”

I sat down beside him. “Oh, yeah. But it was Bertie's fault for telling us if we prayed for something with a sincere heart, we'd get it.” A smile snuck across my face. “Remember, I asked for it to snow?”

Benzer laughed. “That's right, in August. When it didn't, you threw the Bible across the room.”

“I
dropped
it. How old were we, seven?” I opened the cover and read, “
Universal Library of Divine Knowledge, containing the sacred texts of the Old and New Testaments, in which the important truths are confirmed to dispel the mists of darkness, enlighten the ignorant, and implant divine knowledge which is necessary to salvation.
”

“Wow,” Benzer said, “that ought to cover it.”

“I don't know what half of that means.” I traced a finger across the penciled name at the top. “
Silas Whittle, 1858.
”

“Who was that?”

“I'm not sure. Somebody in the family, I guess.”

Benzer picked up my hand and placed it on a page with a drawing of a baby Jesus. “What are you waiting for?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Try again. You just said we need a miracle. Ask it for something exciting.”

“Whatever. It didn't snow, remember?” I wiped my dusty hand on my shorts.

“Do you have a better idea?”

I pictured Sally's smirking face as we stood on the sidewalk in front of school. “Fine, but why do I have to say it?”

“You're the one who told Sally we had big plans. And it's your family Bible—duh!”

I exhaled slowly. “Okay. What should I say?”

“I don't know. Just ask for something exciting to happen, sincerely. Then offer to do something God likes.”

“Hello? How do I know what God likes? You're the one with a cross above your couch.”

“We're Catholic. All I know for sure is that he likes the pope.”

“You're a big help.” I closed my eyes, feeling silly. “Uh . . . Lord, I know I haven't talked to you much, or ever, to be honest. But I've seen the pope on TV, and he looks like a nice guy. I like his car.” I paused. This was not going well. “Anyway, we'd like to ask, sincerely, if you could give us a summer with some excitement. Could you please make something happen, something life-changing, so that when we go to junior high this fall, we're the talk of the school? And to show our sincere hearts, we'll . . .” I drew a blank.

“Hurry,” Benzer whispered.

“What can we do?” I whispered back. “You think of something!”

“And to show our sincere hearts,” Benzer said, “we'll start going to church. Thank you very much.”

“Church? That's all you could think of?” I slammed the book shut. “Amen.”

A huge gust of wind came through the open window. It ruffled my hair, and I could see the oak leaves on my tree outside fluttering wildly. The curtains were sucked outside, then pushed back into the room, just in time for the window to drop with a loud
BANG.

“What the heck?” Benzer asked.

“Lou, is that you?” Mama called from the cellar. “What are you doing up there?”

Quickly, I tried to stuff the Bible back on the bookshelf, but the cover caught on a small nail sticking out of the wood and tore.

Benzer and I stared at each other, panicked.

“Lou?” Mama's voice was getting louder, and I heard the door at the top of the cellar stairs open.

“C'mon,” I whispered to Benzer.

Of all the hiding places in my house, the one I used most was the one behind the living room bookcase. Daddy said it was probably used in the Civil War to hide valuables. I tugged on the edge of the shelf. The wood floor underneath was worn to a high shine, and it swung forward easily.

I grabbed Benzer's arm and pushed him into the dark space ahead of me. On the inside, a leather cord was attached with a nail. I pulled the bookcase shut, plunging us into darkness.

“We're going to be grounded for life,” Benzer whispered in the dark.

“Shh.” I got on my knees and felt around the floor. “Aha.” I clicked the On button of the flashlight I'd found. “I like to read in here when cleaning's going on,” I whispered.

“Lou? Benzer?” Mama's voice was loud in the room. “Are you here?”

I aimed the light at Benzer, who crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue. I tried not to laugh.

The floor vibrated as someone with a heavier tread walked into the room. “What's going on?” Daddy asked.

“Did you see Lou and Benzer outside?” Mama asked. “I swear I heard something fall.”

“No, but remind them I need them to work early tomorrow.”

The sofa nearest the bookcase groaned with the weight of someone sitting down. Great, it looked like we were going to be stuck here awhile.

“Where's Bertie?” Daddy asked. I heard a soft thump, and I pictured him dropping his work boots onto the floor.

“Pulling out some of Lou's old clothes for the baby.”

“You better sit down,” Daddy said. “I've got bad news.”

“Oh, dear. What is it?”

“I just got a call from Jimmy Dale. Pete got the votes he needed. He's already submitted a plan and everything.” Daddy sounded tired. “Things are moving ahead.”

Benzer raised an eyebrow. “What are they talking about?” he whispered.

I shook my head. I didn't have a clue.

“Are you sure Jimmy heard right?” Mama asked. “You know how things get twisted around in this town.”

“Not this time. He was there when it went to the vote.” The couch groaned as Daddy moved again. “I hate to say it, Lily, but we have to face facts. If Pete Winningham gets his way, this house will be history before the summer's out.”

I gasped so loud I was afraid I'd given us away. Benzer nudged me with his elbow, his eyes wide in the flashlight's glare.

“I don't understand. Jimmy said the majority were voting our way. He assured us!” My mother's voice cracked on the last note.

“I guess a couple of people must have changed their minds at the last second.”

I could hear Mama start to cry. I turned the flashlight off and put my knuckle in my mouth. I was glad Benzer couldn't see my face.

“Lily, please don't worry,” I heard Daddy say. “We knew this might happen. That's why I spoke with those Knoxville attorneys. They've already agreed to take the case if it comes down to it.”

“But they said there were no guarantees we'd win, and they won't even start without the retainer. Where are we going to get twenty-five thousand dollars?”

I fanned my face with one hand. The tiny room was getting hot.

“I've got some things in the shop ready for the Nashville flea market,” Daddy said. “We'll clean up the yard and sell everything that's worth anything.”

Mama was quiet. I guessed she was calculating what all those rusty refrigerators were really worth. We just sold Mr. Otto from Sparta three of the better ones for two hundred dollars, and that was a good deal. I must have been right, because a second later, she started crying again.

“Lily, you know we've been in tough spots before. We'll figure something out. We always do.”

Mama blew her nose. “I reckon you're right. I still have some art to send out. Maybe I'll find a rich buyer.”

Daddy paused. Mama's art sales had never even covered the cost of her paintbrushes. “We'll talk about it tonight. Lou's bound to be back soon.”

“Lord, don't let her find out. She'd plan an assault on the county.”

He laughed, a short, sharp bark. “That'll be plan B. C'mon now. Is lunch ready? I've never had a problem that your chicken salad couldn't fix.”

We sat in the darkness, listening to them leave.

“Lou,” Benzer whispered, “we should get out while they're in the kitchen.”