Tender Graces (38 page)

He threw a pebble at me and I threw it back. He said, “I ride better than Little Joe on Bonanza.” He grabbed a brownie.

“Uh huh, sure you do.”

He showed me the half-chewed brownie, going gah uh gah uh, swallowed the mess, then said, “Uncle Jonah and Aunt Billie are pretty okay, huh?”

“Yeah.”

He jumped up and punched into the air. “It’s better than at that Ruby’s.”

“Did she go mean on you?”

“Me? No way. Ruby Screwby was scared of me.” He snickered.

“She was?”

“I played tricks on her. It was easy since she was drunk all the time.”

I leaned forward. “Like what kind of tricks?”

“Like moved stuff around when she was sleeping. She’d get up, going ‘Huh? Wha’?’” He sat back down and grabbed another brownie. “I pretended like I was dead when she hit me.” He laughed, pieces of brownie flying out. “You should’ve heard her hollering ‘this here boy’s done dead. Dead, aw lawd he’p me’.”

I laughed with him.

He looked pleased as the cat that ate the toad. “When Momma got beat up, I got to come here, since Uncle Jonah moved out here to help Momma. Weren’t no reason to go to Ruby Screwbys then.”

“Beat up?”

“Yeah. Momma went looping it up and some guy beat her half silly.” He did a cartwheel. “The police had to come.” He pushed his face up to mine and showed me the brownie in his teeth.

I flicked his ear with my thumb and forefinger. “Were you scared?”

“Goddamn, I’m never scared.” He charged to a tree and hung from a branch, swinging like a monkey. He jumped down and came over to reach for another brownie.

I grabbed the last one before he did. The brownie was warm from the sun, sweet and chewy. I asked, “Did she go on lots of dates?”

“You ask too many questions, Seestor.”

“I’m just curious is all.”

He crossed his hands over his chest and rolled back and forth in the grass and grunted out, “Most-of-them-I-called-assholes.”

He jumped up and loped towards Big Fella, jumping on like he’d done it all his life. “That stuff was a long time ago and I don’t give a rat’s big hairy butt. Get that in your hard head instead of whatever else is stomping around.”

“I don’t know what you’re carrying on about.” I went to Starlight.

“Yeah you do, too.”

“You’re being silly.” I eased up on Starlight and turned her towards the house. Andy didn’t say anything else about it, just hummed the
Bonanza
theme while he did his arms like they did, saying, “I’m the good-looking one.”

“Little Joe?”

“No, the other good-looking one that nobody ever remembers his name.”

Two weeks later, Andy was on his way back to Louisiana and I was back in the holler with Momma. I thought she needed me. I thought I had it all figured out.

Everything seemed both smaller and bigger than I remembered. The yard seemed smaller, so did the house. But the mountains left a bigger shadow all across the house and yard, across Momma, Jonah, Mrs. Mendel’s house, and me. When we drove up, I saw Mrs. Mendel peeping from her window with a big lip-splitting grin. She waved and I waved back.

We helped Momma inside and to her bed. I opened the window for her, looked outside at the maple. It was the same as always.

Uncle Jonah smoothed down Momma’s hair. “You okay, Sister?”

“Go away now. I’m spent.” Momma turned away.

We closed the door to Momma’s room and went into the kitchen to see what she had. The booze bottles lined up on the counter like naughty soldiers.

Uncle Jonah opened cabinets and the icebox, shaking his head. “You need food.”

I didn’t say anything. I felt a little scared.

He looked at me, said, “I’ll stay if you need me to.”

“I’m fine, Uncle Jonah.”

“Well, I’ll get some groceries over here.”

I followed him to the door and watched until he drove away. Then I shut myself in with Momma.

I wandered around. The house was cleaner than I thought it would be. I kept imagining it to be like when Momma threw dishes all over the place. I went back in the kitchen to get a drink of water, and those bottles looked evil, like the soldiers had turned into those monkeys from
Wizard of Oz
. I poured every bit down the sink, wrinkling my nose at the smell. In the icebox was nothing but butter, jam, and a jug of soured milk. I threw the milk down the drain, too.

I then sat on the couch and thought about how everybody in Louisiana was not happy with me for staying in West Virginia.

When I’d told Andy, he’d said, “You’ve lost your marbles.”

“I have not. I need to help Momma is all.”

He stuffed his clothes in the suitcase. “She acts insane. Daddy will make you come home.”

“Daddy can’t make me do a thing. Besides, he acts insane, too.”

He turned around and looked at me as if he thought I might never go back to Louisiana. “You know it’s different with Daddy.” He picked up a pair of socks and sniffed them. “Besides, I was with Momma longer. I know how she is now.”

“Momma is still our Momma.”

He snorted like a horse.

“I’m just staying to help for a spell.”

He closed his suitcase. “Micah’s going to be real mad at you.”

Aunt Billie had said her goodbyes to Andy, tears in her eyes like tiny rainstorms. We got in Uncle Jonah’s car and she waved until we were out of sight. In the car, and at the airport, Andy sat without saying anything else to me. When it was time to get on the plane, he hugged my neck hard, something he hadn’t done since he was little. He was boney, but he was strong. Between a man and a boy. He said, “Don’t let her hurt you, Sister.”

“She never hit us, Andy.”

“I don’t mean that goddamn way.” He galloped off and was gone.

And that was that. We fetched Momma from the hospital and brought her back to the holler. Brought me back, too. And there I was, back.

I picked up the phone and called Rebekha. When she answered, her voice sounded too far away. I heard Elvis in the background. She said, “I know you need to do this . . . ” and was quiet.

The devil and angel had a big fight and it gave me a headache.

I heard Bobby. “Let me talk to my seestor. Give me the phone. Give it!” His voice stabbed straight into my heart, “Come home. I won’t follow you around and bug you, I promise.”

“Bobby, it’s not you. I just want to help my momma.”

“But, my mom is your momma, isn’t she?”

“I’ll be home to see you later, don’t worry.”

“Next week?”

“No, not that soon. “

“Oh. Okay.” He sounded like his goldfish died. “Bye.”

Rebekha was back on the phone. “Hon, you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

She sighed on the phone, said, “Virginia Kate.” Another sigh, then, “Be safe, be well.”

“I’m fine.”

After I put down the phone, I went to my room, smoothed Grandma’s quilt with my hand, and then peeked under the bed. My Special Things Box was gone. I guessed Momma threw it out, and I tried not to care. I said, “Grandma Faith, are you here?” She didn’t answer, so I went to check on Momma.

I eased open her door. She was awake and looking back at me. “Hey, Momma.” I smoothed my skirt and hair, hoping she noticed since she hadn’t said anything about how I’d grown up.

“Why are you here, Virginia Kate?”

I walked to her, trying to pretend she said something else. Something like,
I’m glad you’re here, Virginia Kate
, especially since she asked me to stay. “I’m here to take care of you, Momma.”

“Then bring me a rum and Co-Cola with lemon.”

“I poured it all down the sink.” I looked outside her pane at the maple.

She whooshed out her air, then said, “Call up my brother and tell him to bring more.”

“But Momma, I don’t think you should.”

“I’m hurting all over. A little drink isn’t going to kill me.” With her lips dry and cracked, she said, “Go on now. Call him. You know what kind I like. And don’t look like I just kicked your puppy, I need it for this pain.”

I left her room, and called Uncle Jonah. Aunt Billie answered. I told her what Momma wanted. She said, “He’s just walking out the door. I’ll go run catch him. Hold on, okay?” The phone clunked.

I hoped she wouldn’t go catch him, but then I didn’t want Momma to throw a hissy fit, either.

She came back on the line. “He said he’d take care of it. By the by, your daddy called a little bit ago to check on you.”

I wondered why he didn’t just call here.

“That Rebekha called, too. She sounds like a fine woman. She is, isn’t she? I mean, you’d tell us if she wasn’t?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“You sure this is what you need to be doing, child?”

“Yes. I’m fine.”

Aunt Billie said she’d baked a pie for Momma and me and then we said our goodbyes.

While I waited for the groceries, and booze, I thought about what school I’d be going to, how I’d get my license so I could drive Momma’s car to the store, how I’d have tea with Mrs. Mendel while Momma rested. I took to planning out my life in the holler again without a lick of sense. And it didn’t make me feel as happy as I thought it should have, so I pretended it did. The only things that helped were looking up at my sweet mountain, and hiding under Grandma Faith’s quilt.

Mrs. Mendel came by to say hello, her neck wobbling like a turkey. Her hair was still in its bun on top her head, but it had gray in it and more pieces stick out all wiry. She hugged me so hard I thought she’d break my skin open. We talked about her garden until she was tired and said she had to go take a nap. “You need something, you just call.”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Mendel.” I watched her go off across the grass. She stopped to pick a rose from her garden before she tottled inside. It was almost as if I hadn’t left at all. I stepped across time, just like that, in a big slow wink.

Uncle Jonah came with bags of things. He checked around the house, pulled on windows and doors, checked the stove and icebox, made sure the water came out of the faucets fast enough. We looked in on Momma but she was still sleeping, her head smashed in the pillow—dark against white.

After Uncle Jonah checked every little thing and the groceries were put away, booze lined up again, I said, “Mrs. Mendel said she’d help me if I needed her.”

“Still, you call if, well, if things get bad?”

“I’ll be fine.”

When he finally left, I shut the door, glad that Momma and I had the house all to ourselves. I changed my clothes and then made grilled cheese, poured Momma’s drink just right, and put everything on a tray.

She drank the whole thing down without stopping and held the glass out for more. “That’ll help the outside pain; the next one is for the inside pain.”

“If I get it will you eat the sandwich, Momma?”

“Well, you’re the sweetest thing.” She took a little bite and chewed it slow, swallowed with a flinchy look, and said, “It still hurts to eat.”

“I’m sorry.”

“My special potion will help.” She touched her head. “Turn on the radio for me.”

I found piano music that was sad sounding, but a good sad, like when someone left but they would be back soon kind of sad. I made her another drink and brought it to her.

She sipped. I hadn’t put much vodka in it and she knew it, said, “Well, isn’t this a fine howdy doodly.” She ate the rest of the sandwich. When her glass was empty, she held it out. “I need one more, and put more hooch in this time. And put something happier on the radio.”

I didn’t even fuss with her.

I read Momma’s fashion magazines while she finished her fourth. When she fell asleep, I went to the kitchen, made me a grilled cheese, ate it, cleaned the dishes, and went on to my room. The night bugs called, and the frogs were all in my throat. I slipped myself under the sheets and Grandma’s quilt, staring out the window at the moon’s light shining on my mountain and me, on the maple, on Momma’s face as she slept. The big moon grinned, shining brighter than I remembered. But I had a worried feeling that I was doing things all wrong.

I dreamed Grandma Faith was in Louisiana. I hollered to tell her I was in the holler, but she shook her head at me. When I woke up, I was alone.

Momma stayed in bed most of the time, but soon was able to get up and go to the bathroom by herself. She stared in the bathroom mirror, saying, “I’ve messed up my pretty.”