as we’d sped along in the Edsel.
Is this what a crush feels like?
I didn’t feel all swoony or anything, so I guessed not.
I kept my distance from Tuwana and worked outside, picking up stray paper plates and burned-up sparklers from the night before.
When we finished, I walked home alone and spent the afternoon reading the last fifty pages of
Gone with the Wind
while Daddy took a nap before his graveyard shift.
What did Mama love so much about this book? The adventurousScarlett? The rascal Rhett? Maybe when Scarlett’s little girl, Bonnie, died, it reminded her of Sylvia. I personally didn’t
think that would be a good thing. Still, I couldn’t wait to see her and tell her I’d read her favorite book, the whole thing.
I’d just finished when Daddy woke up and asked me to come outside with him. He lowered himself onto the porch step and lit
a Camel.
“I had an interesting conversation down at the plant last night.” He sounded odd.
“What was that?”
“Norm MacLemore told me you’d been spending a lot of time with his nephew.”
An up-and-down roller-coaster feeling started in my stomach.
“Not really. He hangs around with all of us, actually.” What was going on?
“What’s he like? The nephew.”
“Well, at first…” I took a deep breath. “When he first came he acted different, talked like they do in California, I guess.
But now he seems like everyone else. Riding Doobie’s motor scooter. Playing basketball. Just regular stuff.”
“Norm thinks I oughta keep a better eye on you. Says his nephew’s been in trouble at his school. He doesn’t want anything
to happen here.”
“Trouble? What trouble?” Tiny prickles danced up my spine.
“Skipping school. Running with a bad crowd, from what I gathered.”
“He seems all right to me.”
“I saw him grab your arm last night on the porch. Now, I ain’t saying he was up to no good, but you’re only twelve. The nephew’s
fourteen. Probably be best for all concerned if you stayed away from him.”
“You mean I can’t even pick my own friends?”
“Not if it’s the MacLemore kid.” He stubbed out the cigarette butt in the Folgers can. “It’s times like this I wish your aunt
Vadine had come to stay while Mama’s gone. You’re too young to be on your own.”
“That’s not fair. I haven’t done anything. Mr. MacLemore got it all wrong.”
“Life’s not always fair. I’ve told you that. It wasn’t fair when your sister, Sylvia, died, and that’s what’s kept your mama
worked up all these years. Thing is, we don’t know anything about this kid, and you adding to Mama’s problems when she gets
back wouldn’t do. Not at all.” He got up and went into the house.
End of conversation. Great. Tuwana hated me. I could never see Cly again. Daddy didn’t trust me. All this time, I’d thought
we were doing all right. What had I done wrong?
The most disturbing thing, though, was the idea Mama might still have problems when she got back. Half the summer wasted,
and for what? Angry tears stung my eyes, but I didn’t know if they were for Mama or for me.
[ TEN ]
O N MONDAY, DADDY LEFT before sunup to get Mama. He apologized about leaving me home. “Rules are rules. No visitors in the hospital under fourteen.”
I didn’t mind. I had this idea of decorating the house for Mama. Daddy’s Old Spice filled the house as I hung chains made
with construction paper. I strung a
Welcome Home
sign in big cutout letters over the kitchen doorway.
When I finished, I went over to Goldie’s.
“Exciting day for you,” Goldie said. “Nervous?”
“A little. What do you think Mama will be like?”
“Probably anxious, like you. Maybe embarrassed.” Goldie clicked and banged the feeding tins for the parakeets while I filled
the watering bowls.
“I hadn’t thought about that.” I unwired the latch to the outdoor flight and shooed out the birds from the top two rows. Goldie
had shown me how to keep
Vladimir Sorokin
M. Elizabeth Lee
Ethan Mordden
London Casey, Karolyn James
Sean Williams
Roger MacBride Allen
Nick Oldham
Doris Grumbach
N. Isabelle Blanco
S Moose