When Ratboy Lived Next Door (18 page)

I played with Beth in that closet for what seemed like hours, although it was probably only a few minutes. When I heard the sheriff's siren, I closed the door and talked even louder.

I about jumped out of my skin when I heard Mother's frantic voice calling me. I opened the closet door just as she ran into my bedroom. She still had on her printer's apron.

“Mother?”

She stopped and threw her hand to her chest, trying to catch her breath.

“I heard the siren. One of my customers said it was coming from here and I just ran out of the shop.”

My heart did a small leap until I realized she was probably after a story for her paper. She wasn't worried about me, I reminded myself.

“Is Lydia in trouble?”

I'd forgotten all about Beth.

“No, Beth. I'm not in trouble.”

Mother got down on her knees and said, “Hello, Beth. I'm Lydia's mother.” She looked into the closet. “What have we here? A tea party?”

“It's more like a milk party,” Beth said, laughing.

“I wish I'd have known. Milk parties are my favorite kind,” Mother said.

While they talked, I looked over at the Merrills'. Sheriff Yates was putting Mr. Merrill into the backseat of the police car. In handcuffs, yet! The sheriff said something to Mrs. Merrill. She was holding a rag to her face and shook her head. Then Sheriff Yates got into the car and pulled away.

“Mother? That, um, hair customer of Mrs. Merrill's just left.”

“Oh! I'll go say hello to your mother, Beth. I'll see when she wants you to come home, okay?”

Mother came over and whispered to me, “Will you be all right?”

“I'm fine. It shook me up a little, though. When Mr. Merrill came home so mad and drunk, I grabbed Beth and tried to keep her from seeing it.”

“Sounds like you did the right thing.” She smiled at me.

“But Mother, I called Sheriff Yates. I'm not sure that was right.”

“That's the hard part about growing up, Lydia. The right thing is rarely clear.”

*   *   *

When Mother came back, we walked Beth home together. Mother whispered to me that she had cleaned up the broken glass.

Mrs. Merrill opened the door, holding a wet cloth to her swollen face. For Beth's sake I tried to find an excuse for her mother's appearance. A toothache, maybe? But Beth took one look at her mama and asked, “Did Boyd come home?”

Mrs. Merrill said, “Yes. But he's gone now. He won't be back for a long time.”

Mother told me that Mr. Merrill might have gotten away with hitting Mrs. Merrill because she might have been afraid to press charges. But he'd made a big mistake. “He hit Sheriff Yates,” she said. “You get into serious trouble when you attack a sheriff. Boyd Merrill won't be getting out of jail so easily this time.”

I saw the basket of soggy clothes in the backyard and remembered that I was hanging them when all this started. I was surprised when Mother began helping me. She clipped a dress onto the line, looked across at the Merrills' house, and let out a loud sigh. “I guess I'll never learn.”

“Learn what?”

She pushed her hair out of her eyes and said, “That there's no such thing as a good drunk. You'd think I would have learned that from Philip.” She shook her head and sat down on the porch step. I kept hanging clothes because I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do.

“After … after Robert died, you'd think I would hate all drunks, but no. When Nanna guessed that Boyd Merrill was an alcoholic, I just got angry. I think I was stuck in the habit of arguing with her. For years I'd tried to convince her that there was nothing wrong with a drink now and then. I defended Philip's drinking to her for so long that even after the accident, I never let myself blame him.”

I stopped hanging clothes and sat down on the step below her. “I don't understand. Why would you blame your hus—I mean, Philip?”

“Because if he'd been sober, Robert might still be alive. Or maybe not. Who knows. At least Philip would have lived.”

“But he died of a heart attack!”

“Who told you that?”

“Daddy.”

“Dear Glen. Yes, he
would
try to cover for him. I guess it's time you knew the truth. Philip drank too much, but he was such a lovable drunk, never mean in any way. So I ignored it, reminding myself of all his good qualities. But the main reason I ignored the drinking was that I didn't want Nanna to know she'd been right about him. He wasn't ‘good husband material,' as she liked to say. Oh, don't get me wrong—he loved me and he loved Robert. But he loved to drink more.”

Mother put her head in her hands. I reached out to touch her, but stopped when she raised her head. The look in her eyes told me her thoughts were back in Ohio.

“When I realized that Robert had disobeyed me and gone fishing, I was angry with him. But I never really thought he was in danger. I called Philip at work and asked him to run by the lake on his way home to pick up Robert.

“I've relived that conversation a thousand times in my head. I should have gone myself. I should have known that Philip had been drinking. Robert's friend, Alex, told me that he and Robert had been horsing around when the boat tipped. Robert couldn't swim back to the boat. Alex was trying to save him when Philip showed up. Philip jumped into the lake, but he'd had too much to drink. Alex had two people drowning, and he wasn't able to save either of them.”

Mother looked at me. “It certainly wasn't Alex's fault. It was mine—and God's.” She smiled weakly. “I guess we were both asleep on our watch.”

“But, Mother, I don't see how it was your fault. You didn't know your husband was drinking—you said so yourself.”

She stood up, took in a deep breath, and walked over to the clothes basket. She grabbed a shirt and hung it. Once again I'd ruined a good moment by opening my darned mouth.

We worked side by side until the clothes were hung. Mother picked up the empty clothes basket and stood still, holding it to her. A gentle breeze lifted the hair off her face. Her voice broke and tears welled in her eyes as she said, “It wasn't just the drinking, Lydia. Nanna was so
strict
with me as I was growing up. You know what she's like. I vowed that when I became a mother I would be more lenient. It was obviously a mistake. Maybe if I'd been tougher on Robert, he would have listened to me that day.”

I laughed, and my hand flew to my mouth. It was such a wrong time to laugh. I was glad Willis wasn't there. He'd have boxed me for sure.

I reached out and touched Mother's arm. “I'm sorry! I'm not making fun of you, I promise. I was just thinking about all the Robert stories I heard from Nanna. Mother, do you really think anybody could have stopped him? I think Robert was Robert. The same way I'm me and you're you. I don't think anybody could have stopped him once he made up his mind to do something.”

I took the clothes basket out of her hands and put it on the back porch.

“Do you know what I think Robert would say to you right now if he could? I think he'd say, ‘I wanted to do it so I did it. I just never meant to make you cry.'”

But that's what Mother did. She slid to the ground and cried fifteen years' worth of tears.

17

Mother splashed cold water on her face at the kitchen sink. I handed her a towel and she smiled her thanks. “I've never felt so exhausted. I don't think I can go back to the shop.”

“Would you like me to lock up for you?”

“That would be wonderful, if you're not too busy.”

“No, ma'am. I'd be happy to.”

“I'll call your father and ask him to bring something home for supper.”

“I can do that, too.”

She put her arm around me and said, “Thank you, honey, but I'd like to hear his voice.”

On the walk to the newspaper shop, I thought the air had never smelled so fresh, and the sky had put on a new shade of blue I'd never before seen. Maybe it was because I was feeling something brand new. Some people call you honey so much you figure it's because they can't remember your name. Mother had put her arm around me and called me honey. With her, that meant something.

Daddy came home early that night. He handed me a sack from the Oasis, said “Hi,” and took the stairs two at a time to check on Mother. I was opening the sack when they walked into the kitchen a few minutes later. Mother looked pale but seemed more relaxed than I'd ever seen her.

“Your mother says we had a bit of excitement in the neighborhood,” Daddy said.

“Yessir.”

“I'm proud of you, Ladybug. You kept your head about you.”

I mumbled “Thank you” and kept on working, but his words made me feel good.

Mother said, “Lydia, I don't think I realized until today how much we've dumped on your shoulders.”

“I'm okay.”

“Oh, I know you've handled things beautifully. But I had a lot of time to think today, and that newspaper practically writes itself. I'm going to hire some help so that I don't have to do everything anymore. I also plan to close the shop a little earlier. At most I may have to go in one evening a week to fold the papers, but you two could help. It could be a little family job.”

Daddy rubbed his hands together and said, “You're looking at a former paperboy. I can fold those papers so fast you won't even see my hands move.”

We laughed. Then Mother said, “I was wondering if you'd like to invite Rae Anne over for the weekend. Kind of give yourself a little break from all this housework and”—she waved her hand toward the Merrills'—“worry.”

I thought about Rae Anne. Lord knows, I missed her. But then I thought about Willis. He'd be watching the Free Show on the roof of the dry goods store alone.

“No thanks, Mother. I've already got plans for Friday night.”

Daddy got out dishes to set the table while Mother poured us drinks. With the three of us working together in the kitchen, I felt that this was the only place on the planet where I belonged. It was the nicest feeling, and I broke into an ear-to-ear grin that didn't change even when I realized Daddy had brought home soup beans and corn bread for all three of us.

*   *   *

On Friday night, Mother and Daddy got ready to go downtown early. We had all talked it over and agreed that we would buy a new automatic washing machine at Green's Appliances as long as we kept the old wringer washer hooked up and waiting for Nanna. It was easier to admit how much I hated that old wringer when Mother and Daddy were willing to listen to my fears about Nanna not coming back. They even discussed buying a clothes dryer, if it wasn't too expensive. Thinking about not having to mess with that clothesline made me almost light-headed with happiness. We laughed about how horrified Nanna would be by the expense. But as Daddy said, she might even like a clothes dryer during rainy spells.

Mother and Daddy left for the Free Show, but I stayed at home until it was time for Elliot to sell popcorn. I strolled along, planning to act as if I'd plumb forgot he had a job doing that. But he wasn't in front of the Oasis.

I went inside and didn't see him busing tables, either. So I waited until Hazel came to the counter to refill a customer's coffee.

“Hazel, is Elliot sick tonight?”

“Elliot quit, honey.” She smacked her gum.

“Quit? Did he get another job?”

“Afraid you'll have to ask him that, sweetcakes.” She pulled her pencil out from behind her ear and went to take another order.

Elliot wouldn't quit unless he had a better job to go to. That much I knew. It made me sad that I wouldn't be seeing him at the Oasis. I'd have to ask Willis where he worked now.

By then it was almost dark and I knew Willis would already be on the roof. I hadn't seen him since his daddy was arrested, and I just hoped he and Elliot didn't blame me.

I was almost at the alley when I noticed Bobby Wayans and two other boys looking at the pile of stuff Willis had made to help me climb down from the building.

One of the boys was Junior Plunkett. He grabbed the tire and started to heave it away, but the other kid stopped him. “Don't do that. Let's go up there and get him. Where's he gonna run to?”

They all laughed.

I tried to make my voice sound casual. “What's going on, guys?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” Bobby said as he strutted toward me.

“Bobby, don't you have better sense than to talk to me that way? You know these boys won't be around you all the time and when they're not, you're plenty scared of me.”

Junior jumped down between us. When school let out for the summer, we were about even in height. But Junior had grown since then.

“It doesn't matter how he feels when we're not around, because right now we
are
here.”

I tried to laugh. “Junior, this doesn't have anything to do with you. You know me and Bobby always fuss when we're together.”

“Yeah, I know that,” he said. “I also know you've been hanging around that nutcase, Willis Merrill.”

“Don't call him that!”

He shoved me and I took a step back. Junior had always been full of himself, but now he seemed downright mean.

“Yeah, give her a taste of her own medicine,” Bobby called out.

“Stay out of this,” Junior said to Bobby. Then he said to me, “What's wrong with you, anyway? Why are you nice to Willis? Are you retarded, too?”

Bigger than me or not, he wasn't going to get away with that. But then the other kid came up from behind and pushed me toward Junior. “Answer him,” he said.

I landed on Junior's chest. Junior pushed me back to the other kid. This time he moved and I fell flat on my back in the alley.

Things happened real fast after that. I heard Bobby laugh when I fell, then squeal like a pig. I turned my head to look. Someone had jumped off the roof onto Junior. It was Willis. They were rolling in the alley, grunting and punching and ripping each other's shirts. I saw the other kid start over to help Junior. I had rolled to the side and threw myself against the kid's legs, knocking him down. He fell face first onto the gravel. I scrambled up and ran behind the telephone pole because I knew he could beat the tar out of me if he wanted. He raised his head, and his lip was bleeding pretty bad. He touched it with his hand and stared at the blood for a minute. He looked at Junior, shrugged, then walked away as if he didn't think the fight was worth the trouble.