Roseflower Creek (8 page)

    We took them hog parts home. Come Sunday, Mama fixed us a fine dinner. We had black-eyed peas we left cooking in the pot whilst we went off to church. When we got back Mama made grits and ham hock gravy. We had biscuits and butter and some of MeeMaw's rhubarb jam we'd been saving from before she died. It was a mighty fine spread we had us that day. Lexie and Melvin come over with the babies. It was like a Thanksgiving and Christmas banquet and here it was just a regular Sunday after church when we sat down to eat it.

    I sure enough enjoyed that good food. Mama roasted the ham with brown sugar and pecans on top like MeeMaw taught her to do. It was my favorite. I ate slice after slice of that pork roast; it about melted in my mouth. I ate 'til my belly nearly hurt something awful, which I hoped weren't a sin, but probably was.

    I got to thinking how good pigs was to eat, which made me kinda sad 'cause they was so cute. That made me think about Colonel Corn, and I remembered the last time I seen him. It was right before Christmas when we got that cold spell that surprised us with snow. I never seen snow before. I never seen Colonel Corn again, neither. Mr. Hawkins butchered a hog that week it snowed. Good golly almighty! I knew right then we done ate Colonel Corn. I didn't sleep too good that night. I seen his snout a twitching and his pitiful eyes just a blinking at me. I tossed and turned in my bed. Finally 'bout dawn, I swore I'd never eat pork again if he'd just forgive me and let me git on with my life. I figured it was the least I could do, since I ate more of him than anyone else. In the morning 'fore school I told Mama about who we ate and how bad I felt.

    "Oh, honey," she said, "he's in hog heaven by now, so don't you worry none about Colonel Corn."

    I hoped she was right 'cause I sure needed my rest. The mark on the wall showed I'd growed another inch, and all that growing wears a body out for sure. After that I counted on that hog being happy wherever pig heaven was, and I figured if 'n he wasn't, 'least he musta forgived me 'cause I didn't have no more trouble sleeping after that.

    As a matter of fact, about that time it seemed like everything was going real fine. Ray was being so nice to us, my mama and me. I was getting real happy about having a stepdaddy like him.

    It was spring the year I was almost nine. Carolee and me was helping her daddy with the plowing, following along one afternoon, picking up big branches a storm blowed down from the trees nearby.

    "That's real fine work, girls," Mr. Thompson said. "Climb on up here. You can ride the rest a' the way." There was only a handful a' rows left to plow.

    "I gotta get home, Mr. Thompson," I said. "Ray's takin' my mama and me to the picture show tonight." I was real excited. It was like a date. We was fixin' to get hamburgers and stuff 'fore it started. I stopped to see Lexie and the babies on the way home. That Little Irl was a handful. He was already climbing out of the crib and him not even a year old. Alice, that's what they called Katherine Alice, she couldn't climb good yet. She was a little bit younger than Irl, her being born last, so she wan't as good as him. He about showed her up in everything. But that little Alice, she just loved that Irl to pieces, I'm tellin' ya'. She followed him around everywhere, laughing and reaching out for him. Melvin and Lexie only had money for one crib, so the babies slept together, but I don't think they woulda slept apart, nohow. So being poor and only having that one crib suited them fine.

    "Lori Jean, honey," Lexie said. "How'd you like to watch the babies for a while tonight? Melvin and me could get out for a spell."

    "I'd like to, Lexie," I said, "but Ray's takin' Mama and me to the picture show."

    "That's real nice. It's about time that man did right by you girls."

    "Yes, ma'am. He's doin' real fine, he is," I said. "He's like a brand-new daddy. I think I could love 'im like a regular one even, 'fore too long."

    "You gettin' enough to eat?" she asked. "I know he's not workin' regular."

    "Well the church folks been helpin' with little jobs and stuff and the town folks, too. We gettin' by okay, 'til he finds somethin' regular," I said. "Mama's doin' laundry and cleanin' for Mz. Hawkins and I'm gonna help her this summer when school's out."

    "Tell your mama, I'm gonna bring the babies by this weekend and visit a piece, hear?" she said.

    But that weekend, nobody could come visit us 'cause we wasn't home. After I left Carolee with her daddy that afternoon, Mama and Ray and me got ready to go to the picture show. They was playing
Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison with Robert Mitchum an
d Deborah Kerr. Robert Mitchum was my mama's favorite and Ray didn't mind her having a favorite movie fella none 'cause he said Deborah Kerr weren't hard to look at herself. We was fixin' to eat first.

    When we got to the café, everyone was talking up a storm about a tractor accident. I was doing me some of that eavesdropping like MeeMaw always done. Seems a fella was plowing one his fields when the axle snapped off and threwed him clear to the ground. They took 'im all the way to Atlanta to the hospital there. They said he was gonna be all right. I was mighty relieved. Might could be somebody we knowed. Never know.

    Dottie the waitress come over. She wan't really a waitress. She was the owner's wife, but she did the waitress work, took all the orders and stuff. I was fixin' to order me the Big Burger Plate. It cost ninety-five cents. It come with fries and coleslaw, but you gotta pay extra if you want a Coca-Cola.

    "Go ahead, Lori Jean. Git yourself one them Co-Colas," Ray said. "Tonight we goin' first class all the way." He was in fine spirits, telling us jokes and stuff. He still weren't drinking no more and he was turning into a fine fella for sure. Mama and me was having a special time. We ordered our burger plates and Dottie brought our Coca-Colas while we waited on the food.

    The menfolk in the booth by the corner was still talking 'bout that accident with the tractor that near killed some man.

    "Reckon that might be someone we know, Mama?" I asked.

    "Someone we know about what?" she said.

    "That man them fellas is talkin' 'bout, got hisself near killed on a tractor. Reckon it's someone we know?"

"Lori Jean, stop listenin' on other folks. It's not polite," she said.

    "Well I was just thinkin' maybe it could be someone we knowed and we should ask 'em who it was."

    "We're out tryin' to have us a good time, Lori Jean," Ray said. "Let's just mind our own business."

    "Well if it's someone we know then it sorta would be our business then, wouldn't it?"

    "Quit, Lori Jean," Mama said and give me her evil eye. I guess she was worried I'd get Ray in a sour mood. I decided I best change the subject.

    "What time's the movie start?" I asked.

    "Oh, not for over an hour. We got plenty a' time," Mama said.

    "Hhhhhmmm, Hhhhhhmmmm…" Ray said. "Here comes the chow." And there was Dottie with the biggest platters of food you ever seen. Burgers and French-fried potatoes was about my favorite eatin' foods in the whole world. Dottie put down catsup and salt and pepper.

    "Anything else I kin get you, folks?" she said.

    "That'll do us," Ray said.

    We started eating and two more men come in and pulled up chairs around the back booth where them other fellas was. I recognized a couple of them but couldn't remember their names none. Burt Peters come out from the kitchen. He's Dottie's husband. He owns the place, and he does most the cooking 'cause he's real good at it. This big fella I never seen before was telling them mens that just come in about the tractor accident. Mr. Peters wiped his hands on his apron and sat down to join 'em.

    I was thinking on whether it'd be okay to ask Ray if I could have me another Co-Cola when I heard Mr. Peters say something that caught hold of my ear.

    "They ain't told him yet 'bout Carolee," Burt Peters said. He was talking to the two that just come in. Now I 'membered their names, clear as church. It was Hoyt Anderson and Daryl Davis. They both owned farms up the road a piece.

    "Doc thinks the shock would kill him for sure," Mr. Peters said.

    I jumped up from the table we was at and run over and yanked on his sleeve. "What about Carolee?" I asked. Mr. Peters kept talking to them fellas.

    "Mr. Peters, what about her?" I said. Mr. Peters turned around and looked me straight in the eye.

    "What you need, Lori Jean?" he asked me.

    "What about Carolee? Is she okay?"

    "Why…she…she…" Mr. Peters was having trouble getting his words out. The men fellas all got real quiet and started looking round at one 'nother.

    "Mr. Peters," I said. "Is Carolee okay? Is she?" I was getting a lump in my throat and a sick feeling in my tummy.

    Mr. Peters turned his head to the side and spit tobacco juice into the can on the floor. That same floor was getting dizzy under my feet.

    "She fell under the tractor, Lori Jean," he said.

    "Oh no!" I said. "Well—did they fix her all up? Did they?"

    "I'm sorry, Lori Jean," he said and shook his head from side to side. Now my tummy was really hurting. Carolee might be hurt real bad 'cause Mr. Peters had a powerful sad look in his eyes.

    "They couldn't save her, honey," he said. "They tried real hard."

    He reached out to grab hold of me, but he didn't move fast enough. The room spun me round and round like a toy top gone nuts. Then it turned itself plumb upside down. And if that weren't bad enough, the colors all about the room played tricks on my eyes. The yellow walls was blue. And the brown tables was red. Sparks flashed in front of my eyes like stars and the floor danced up and smacked me in the head. Voices screamed at me with lips stretched wide as a funhouse mirror. Words flew out of them voices; flung themselves towards my ears, stretched themselves like rubber bands strung out of a tunnel. They made their way into my ears, but they didn't make sense. First they whispered. Then they roared. First they was soft and then they turned mean. They screeched louder and louder. Still, they made no sense. Mean words, they was. They chased me. Slammed me down to the floor; sharp words, cut like razors into my chest. They dug out my heart. They squeezed out the blood, then printed their letters on top, right where it beat. They run all over the room, them words. They pushed in the walls and closed in the ceiling. They clawed and they poked. They spit and jabbed. They threw me into a cave; a black pit; a hole so tight I couldn't breathe. I heard them words. Bad words; crazy words; foaming-at-the-mouth words. They pushed their way into my head. Then I heard them good. I knowed what they said. I knowed what they meant.

    "Carolee! Carolee!" I yelled back at them words. Too late. They pushed me deeper and deeper into the hole. The hole stunk like vomit and pee. I clawed to get out. Strong arms held me down. The room went all black and something in that blackness—something sharp and cold—took hold of my heart and cut a piece right out of the middle. I never got it back. Never. It was gone for good.

    Just like Carolee, plumb gone forever.

They sent for Doc Crawley to come over to the café. Make sure I was all right. He give me a shot in the arm of something he had in his bag. Made me real tired and fixed my tongue so's it didn't talk good like it used to.

    "Just take her home and put her to bed," he said. "She'll be fine."

    But this time Doc Crawley was dead wrong 'cause I weren't never gonna be fine again. How's a body gonna lose their best friend in the whole world and figure on being just fine? Why, that's plumb crazy. Top of that, now I had me a tongue didn't work.

    But Mama and Ray did what he said and took me home. They didn't get to see Robert Mitchum and Deborah Kerr on account of me and I felt bad about that, but what could I do? Could hardly sit and watch me
Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison
when Carolee was killed, my heart was broke in two, and my throat couldn't swallow 'cause a hard lump was stuck up in it. But that shot Doc Crawley give me sure helped. I knew Carolee was gone, but somehow I couldn't cry. I just laid in my bed all peaceful like, and strange as it was, I felt like everything was gonna be okay. Isn't that just the craziest thing? A shot that can do that to ya'—make ya' feel like the world's okay when it's flat-out ended. Goodness gracious, what'd they put in that shot anyway? I wanted to know 'cause I thought I'd probably need a whole lot more of it real soon. If it come in pills, I figured I could just take me one each day. Soon as my head wasn't so fuzzy, I planned on asking Doc Crawley about it. I did, too. I found out they got shots and pills and all kinds of stuff to make ya' feel like that, but he told me he couldn't let me have any more of it 'cause it was habit-forming.

    "Well, if a body's gonna take it every day anyway, Doctor Crawley," I said, "what difference does that make?" He said people that takes it is drug addicts. Fancy that. They give me something to help me out when I learned about Carolee and they was fixing to make me a drug addict. It's a good thing I didn't take no more of that stuff 'cause I sure didn't wanna be no drug addict, even if life did hurt a bunch.

    The day of the funeral I stood next to my mama to say goodbye to Carolee. They had her laid out in a wood box made up like a bed with her head resting on a white satin pillow. Her skin was a whole lot whiter than it was the last time I seen her. They had lipstick on her, too, and her ma never let her wear that stuff, so I figured she'd be pretty mad when she took a good look and seen what that undertaker fella did to her. Her hair looked real pretty, though. Wanda come and did it. She didn't want to, but Carolee's mama come to the shop and begged her when Lexie was gettin' a shampoo.