Mary Wolf (8 page)

No problem, Daddy says; we were planning to go; it's just such a lovely beach, etc. He tells the ranger about his company and asks him if he has enough insurance.

“When you buy insurance, you're buying peace of mind. These days, you can't have too much security.” Daddy chats and jokes until they're both laughing, but his smile leaves with the ranger.

“Now what?” Mama's worried. She's been listening from the door of the RV, clasping Andy to her chest like a shield.

“What do you mean, now what? We'll go someplace else.”

“Are you sure there's no work in Mendocino?”

“Of course I'm sure, Wendy. I've applied everywhere. Haven't you been listening to what I'm telling you?”

“What about Fort Bragg?” I say. “The barber said people are moving to Fort Bragg.”

“Too many people. And too few jobs. The fishing and mill work have dried up,” Daddy says. He runs his hand over his jaw. He could use a shave. “I think we should head south, spend a few weeks on the coast while the weather's nice, then head down the peninsula to San Francisco.”

Mama hands Andy to me and crosses her arms across her chest.

“Andrew, you said no more big cities.”

“We don't have to be right in San Francisco. There's a lot of towns down there. I'll find some work and a place for us to live. I want the kids to start school this fall.”

“We can teach them ourselves. They're doing just fine.”

Why does she say that? Mama knows it's not true. The longer we travel around like the circus, the more we seem like clowns.

“I've been giving this a lot of thought,” Daddy says. “The girls need to be in school. They need to settle down. We've been fooling around long enough, Wendy.”

I throw my arms around his neck.

“I can help,” I say. “I'll get a job after school. I'll give you all the money for food and rent.”

“You leave that to me.” He strokes my hair. “You girls are going to have some catching up to do. We'll find a nice house with a good school nearby. I want to see you doing homework again, Danielle. Working on science projects. Maybe join the Girl Scouts. Make some new friends. Wouldn't you like that, honey?”

“No,” she says, glaring. But she sounds so funny we all laugh.

We pack our stuff and put our trash in the Dumpster. Daddy empties out the septic tank. Then we get on Highway 1, heading south down the coast. I offer to drive but Daddy feels fine. His stomach hasn't bothered him since we've been there.

I hold Andy on my lap and sing the pattycake song, tapping his fat fists together. He laughs.

“Look at him, Mama. Andy loves music.” She smiles, but her eyes are sad. She's as shy as the girls, only used to the family, fearful of cities and strangers. “Don't worry, Mama; it's going to be fine.”

She looks out the window and nods her head.

“What's that?” Daddy says.

Something's making a funny noise, and the RV's lurching to the left. Daddy pulls over to the shoulder and gets out. I hand Andy to Mama and follow him.

He looks at the engine and under the RV. Nothing looks broken or out of place. I walk back to the Jeep. One of the tires has blown out. Fat strips of rubber litter the highway.

“Well, that's just swell,” Daddy says when I show him.

“Let's put on the spare.”

“That's the spare,” he says.

“We don't have a spare?”

“That's what I said, Mary.”

“We should have a spare! We should always have a spare!”

“There's no use getting hysterical. That won't help.”

“Well, now what do we do?”

“That's the question,” he says. He walks back to the RV and tells Mama not to worry; it's just a tire. Then he comes back, rubbing his hands across his face.

“Can we tow it for a while?” I ask.

“Not like that. We'd be dragging it on the rim.”

“We're going to have to get another tire.”

“No,” he says. “We're going to cut her loose.”

“What do you mean?”

He looks angry, as if I'm trying to be stupid. I'm forcing him to say words he doesn't want to hear.

“We're cutting it loose, Mary. We're leaving it here. This thing is an albatross around my neck.”

“We can get another tire!”

“It doesn't even run! Listen to me, Mary. Will you listen to me? We're going to have to leave it. It's too bad, I'm sorry. But we don't have the money to fix it.”

“You're going to get a job. We can fix it later!”

“Mary, we're dealing with reality here. This thing has been dying since we left Nebraska. It's dead now. It's finished. That's it.”

“We can't just leave it.”

He gets out a wrench. He pulls off the Jeep's license plates and gets the registration out of the glove box, throwing everything into the RV's tool compartment. Then he disconnects the Jeep from the Wolfs' Den.

“Let's go,” he says. “You drive.”

He sits in back with his arm around Mama. When we pull away, he stares straight ahead. The little girls watch the Jeep until it disappears. No one says anything.

The campground we stay in that night is crummy. We're up early the next morning and on the road. The crack on the windshield is a river of mist. I've got the tape deck blasting and the wipers going.

Then we pass through the fog and the sun is strong.

“The banana belt,” Daddy says.

“I don't see any bananas.” Polly's looking around.

“What that means, honey, is that this area is sunny. Some parts of the coast have less fog than others.”

“Andrew, look at those gorgeous houses,” Mama says.

Enormous homes loom on either side of the road, with lots of land around them fenced by beautiful pines.

“Wouldn't you love to live here.” Mama sighs.

“Most of them are probably second homes,” Daddy says. Erica asks what he means, and he explains that some people have so much money that they can afford to have a house just for vacations.

“That's not fair,” Erica says. “We don't even have one house.”

“Yes we do, dummy. In Nebraska,” Danielle says.

“Turn off here, Mary. Let's look around.”

Daddy's pointing up a road. We drive into the development.

Most of the houses are two stories tall, with walls of windows and redwood decks. A few of the houses appear occupied but most of them look vacant.

“Can you imagine having so much dough you could let one of these babies sit empty?” Daddy points out a house barely visible from the road. “Stop here, Mary.”

“What're you doing, Andrew?”

“I'm going to look around for a minute.”

He walks up the driveway and disappears. The empty lots on either side of the house are overgrown with brush and orange poppies.

“Look, Mama, you can see the ocean,” I say.

“I know. Isn't it gorgeous? How would you like to look at that view while you're standing at the sink doing dishes?”

Daddy gets back in the RV. “Nobody home,” he says. “I wanted to see if the house is available. There's usually a lot of vacation rentals in a place like this.”

“Andrew, we can't afford to rent one of these houses.”

“Like you always say, Wendy, you never know until you try. Mary, go back down the highway to the real-estate office. I want to get some information.”

“Are we going to live here, Daddy?”

“No, we're not, you dope.”

“Danielle,” Mama says, “don't call your sister names.”

“Are we going to live here, Daddy?” Erica doesn't give up easily.

“Probably not, honey. But we'll see,” he tells her.

I drive back to the real-estate office on the highway. It's surrounded by flapping blue-and-white flags emblazoned with the name of the development: SeaScape.

Daddy puts on a fresh shirt and combs his hair. Then he goes into the office by himself. He's in there a long time.

“This is stupid,” Danielle says.

When Daddy comes out of the office, he's smiling.

“Welcome to your new neighborhood,” he says.

“Andrew, you're kidding. Are we really going to live here?”

“Just call me Mr. Lucky.” He kisses Mama and grins. “Their maintenance-and-security man just quit. They need someone to keep an eye on the development. Do little repairs and kick out trespassers. The pay's not great, but we get a place to live for free.”

Mama hugs him. “This is unbelievable!”

“I thought we were going to the city,” I say.

“We are, Mary, but there's plenty of time. School doesn't start until the fall.”

“Yes, but—”

“Will you quit yes-butting me and be happy for once? If I gave you the sun, you'd say, ‘But Daddy, it's hot!' I thought you'd enjoy living in one of these houses for a while.”

“I would, but—”

“See, you're doing it again! I told you we'd go to the city, and we will. You and the girls will start school this fall, I promise. But it's only June. We're still on summer vacation.”

He and Mama embrace. The girls jump up and down. Andy makes happy gurgly sounds.

We drive back to the secluded house Daddy inspected.

“Let's park in back,” he says. “It'll be easier to unload.”

The gate's jammed; he pries it open. I drive the RV into the side yard; he closes the tall wooden gate.

“I'll fix that tomorrow,” he says. “Let's look at the house.”

The key they gave him won't open that door, so he goes around back and lets us all inside.

Mama's in Wonderland. She's oohing and aahing. “Look at this, Andrew! Can you believe it's ours?”

We wander through a maze of spacious rooms. The furniture is new and expensive. Every room has a view of the distant, sparkling ocean. There are three bathrooms.

“Three bathrooms!” Mama says. “And a hot tub outside! I'm going to get in that hot tub and never come out.”

“There's a TV!” Danielle screams. “And a VCR!” The cabinet drawers contain hundreds of movies. She and Erica pull out their favorites, fighting over who will get the first turn.

“Look at this kitchen, Mary,” Mama says. “It's got everything. A dishwasher, a microwave, a coffee maker.”

“Yeah, it's got everything but food.” The spotless fridge is empty except for mayonnaise and relish and butter.

“I'll go to the store as soon as we're settled,” Daddy says. “There's a market a few miles down the road.”

We divvy up the bedrooms. I take the one upstairs. It's private and the bed is wide and firm. Mama and Daddy will sleep in the master bedroom, with Andy and Polly just down the hall. Erica and Danielle decide to share a room. Sleeping by themselves would feel too strange and lonesome.

Mama and Daddy go to the store while Andy naps. I do laundry in the washer and dryer. It's so handy to have them right here in the house. In the TV room Erica and Danielle watch
Beauty and the Beast
. I find popcorn and a popper in a kitchen cupboard and bring them a bowl of it, slathered with butter.

Mama and Daddy return loaded down with groceries. We carry them into the house.

“Look at this stuff! We've got enough for an army!” It makes me feel rich to see all that food. We fill up the fridge and the cupboards and bread box. Mama finds a brass bowl and piles it high with fruit, placing it on the dining room table, beneath a stained-glass lampshade.

For supper I bake chicken and potatoes and fix a big green salad. Mama and Daddy share a bottle of wine. Everybody's laughing and having a good time. Danielle helps me clean up and load the dishwasher without griping. Then she heads back to the TV room for one more movie. Andy and Polly are down for the night. Mama and Daddy sit outside in the hot tub, their soft laughter rising like steam.

I let myself out the front door and walk up the driveway. There are no streetlights, and no houses nearby. The stars glitter crisply in the sky. I can hear waves pounding on the beach across the highway. Daddy said we'll picnic there tomorrow.

Walking through the quiet night, I feel at peace. Wind whistles through the pines but it doesn't sound lonely; it sounds like the planet breathing.

I walk back to the house. It's cloaked in shadow, sheltered by the murmuring trees. An owl asks for the password. I answer: “Me.” In an upstairs window a warm light glows from my room.

Nine

I get up early while everyone is sleeping and take my coffee outside on the deck. The sun presses its gleaming face to the fog. Two deer nibble the crusts of bread I threw onto the grass the night before. Mama and Daddy left the cover off the hot tub again. I replace it to keep out frogs and children.

I decide to call Aunt Belle before she leaves for work. I use the phone in the kitchen so no one will hear me.

She answers on the second ring. “Hello?” She sounds sleepy.

“Hi, Aunt Belle! It's me, Mary.”

“How are you, honey? Where are you?”

“In California. Did I wake you up?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, but I'm glad you did!”

“Aren't you going to work?”

“Not today. It's Saturday.”

I didn't know. We have no schedule. “I'm sorry I woke you up.”

“Are you kidding? You've been on my mind so much. How are you, Mary? Are you all right?”

“I'm fine, Aunt Belle. You should see where we're living. We've got this gorgeous house right near the beach.”

“Andrew's working now?” I can feel her relief.

“He's the maintenance man at this beautiful development. They give us a house to live in for free. We've even got a hot tub. There's a private beach and everything.”

“Oh, Mary, I'm so pleased. You'll be staying there indefinitely?”

“Just for the summer. There's no schools around here. Daddy wants us back in school this fall.”