Forever This Summer

by Leslie C. Youngblood

  “Peanuts on the house,” Peanut Man said right before he started helping Uncle Dean.

  After another hour of hammering and aligning planks, Nikki and I left and walked back to the diner. From a distance, the hammering and sawing had a rhythm that sounded like a giant waking up and walking around.

  Nikki and I were skipping, jumping, and as playful as puppies while we were walking toward the diner.

  “Hey, guess who asked me was I coming back next summer?”

  “Let me guess… Flip,” I said.

  “He is totally crushing on me,” she said. “I mean totally.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I said, ‘Of course. My best friend will be here visiting her great-aunts.’” Then she kicked her leg up and touched the tip of her sneaker. “The way I figured it, one week with you in Snellville, one week here.” She did a Herkie jump. I tried to emulate her without the height. More like a baby Herkie.

  “Not bad. Not bad,” she said. Then she hugged my neck. “Wait till he really sees me on the stage. He’s going to crush extra hard.”

  “C’mon, he’s kinda cute and all, but we’ve got to stay focused,” I said.

  She lifted her eyebrows as high as her jump. “You’re not the only one who can multitask. Think I might give him my number. What do you think?”

  “Did your parents say it was okay?”

  “They’re moving me all the way to California. Do they expect me not to keep in touch with friends, even if the friends are boys?”

  “Whatever you say,” I said.

  Then she slowed her steps. “I have to ask you something and you need to be honest, honest.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Jada is a better dancer than I am, isn’t she? I mean. You’ve seen all the stuff she can do. And she’s never been to any kind of camp. No coaching. Nada.”

  I thought back to all my years knowing Nikki, and I don’t think she’d ever asked me that question before. Not even Lucinda Hightower had that power.

  “Nikki, can I give you one of Principal Romain’s quotes? And honestly, it’s one that I need to follow more myself. I even wrote this one in my notebook. ’Cause I had to remember it when it comes to you.”

  “Really? What is it?”

  I pursed my lips. A little embarrassed to say it. “‘Comparison is the thief of joy,’” I said. “I can’t remember who said it, but Principal Romain posted that a couple times, remember?”

  “Nah. But you had to use that about me?” I nodded. “Oh, about the dancing, huh?”

  “Instead of comparing myself to you, I just want to concentrate on how you’re so good, you make me want to be better. Does seeing Jada make you want to be better?”

  “Meaning you’re not going to answer me.”

  “All I’ll say is this: you’re both good. Phenomenal,” I said.

  “Oh, good word,” Nikki said and repeated it into her phone. Then she hit me with a fifteen-second version of her latest choreography.

  I stopped walking.

  “Oh, want me to run it back?”

  “No time for the routine now, Nikki, look.” Defying Mama’s no pointing rule, I extended my forearm and pointed my finger toward the diner as steady as a bird dog.

  Nikki studied me instead of where I was pointing and said, “What’s gotten into you?” Then she saw what I was pointing to. A police car. In front of the diner.

  “Dang,” she said. Then, as if she was inside my mind, her next words were, “Think it has something to do with the talent show?”

  There was no way they could stop it now. I tried to believe that as I walked to the diner. Maybe they needed to check our permit and someone directed them to the diner instead of Aunt Vie’s. I wanted to run through all the scenarios before we got there so I wouldn’t be caught off guard. Nikki grabbed my hand and hurried me along.

  But then she stopped at the corner and wouldn’t budge. “Wait, Georgie. Remember what I asked you?” She bugged her eyes. “Is there anything that you and Markie did that could wreck everything?”

  This time, I put some real thought into it. “No. I don’t think so. Let’s not freak out before we find out,” I said and clasped my hands behind my back to keep them from shaking.

  “Don’t think so? You should know so. I asked you if anything would come back and bite us, remember? The show is tomorrow. Your mama wouldn’t care if your uncle was building us the Superdome. She’d shut it down if you and Markie are in some type of trouble.”

  “It is a diner, you know. We serve food. The best in town.” I accidently bit my tongue on that last word as terror swept across my body.

  She kept her arms folded the rest of the way while I let mine swing, creating my own Bogalusa breeze as worry free as possible. A half a minute later, we were in front of the diner, and any smidgen of hope that the police weren’t there on business was doused. Through the diner window we saw two officers, Mama, Aunt Essie, and Markie. One officer was writing something on a notepad. In a flash, I squeezed my eyes shut and wished he was sitting down and Markie was taking his order.

  29

  CAGED BIRD

  For the first time, when I entered Sweetings, no song played on the jukebox. The voice of the note-taking officer ricocheted off every picture in the place, then the word “stolen” thumped me on the forehead.

  “Georgie, get over here right now,” Mama said.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said as innocently as I could.

  “These officers are here asking after you and Markie Jean.” Mama maneuvered me next to Markie, placing one of her hands on each of our shoulders. “Now, please state again your business here, Officers.”

  “We are following up on a report from a local business owner. She states that she believes that girls associated with this diner may have stolen a valuable item from her.”

  “And why would she think that?” Mama said.

  “She heard the girls say ‘Sweetings.’ And even heard them call each other by name.” The officer looked at his pad. “Georgia, Georgie… and Markie. The shop owner’s name is Nettie Collins.”

  Aunt Essie pulled at her apron strings. “Owns Nettie’s Market a few miles from here. Peanut Man didn’t say anything about stopping in there before he took you to Hannah’s. Did you three go in there with her?”

  “Georgie? What do you know about any of this?” Mama said.

  I was silent.

  The officer spoke directly to Markie. “Would you happen to be Markie Jean? You fit the description rather closely.”

  “I’d be crazy to steal something. Not like I don’t have a distinguishable appearance,” she said.

  “Respectfully, Officers, no one here is her legal guardian. You’ll have to address her another time.”

  “Well, we’re just following up, as a personal favor. She hasn’t yet filed a formal complaint.”

  “You said it was valuable, but you didn’t say what it was,” Mama said.

  “A bracelet. A genuine ruby bracelet, according to the owner,” the officer said. A swoosh of wind hit me in the face and blew me back to that moment when Nettie opened that first aid kit that had that gun and the ruby bracelet. I shivered back into the moment only to find Nikki glaring at me. I stared at Markie. Markie was looking at her phone like we were all boring her and she had somewhere to be.

  “Until a formal complaint is filed, Officers, let me show you out,” Mama said, and she and Aunt Essie walked them to the door.

  The huddle was quick. “Did either of you take it?” Nikki said.

  “Of course not,” I said.

  Markie didn’t say anything at all.

  Mama stomped back toward us, casting a shadow like she was ten feet tall.

  “Nikki, you stay here. Georgie and Markie Jean, let’s go in the office right now and have a talk.”

  “Sorry,” I mouthed to Nikki.

  “Spill it, you two!” Mama said. Markie stayed quiet and so did I. Then Mama addressed me. “Georgie, the police were he
re. The police. I know the conversations we’ve had with you for sure. Markie Jean, I can tell that you know how serious this is. What if she files formal charges? Do you really want to deal with that? So I’m going to ask you both one more time: did either of you take that bracelet?”

  I started singing like a caged bird. “I saw it in the box, but I didn’t take it. Some kids came when we were leaving. Maybe they took it. We don’t know. Maybe she didn’t put the box away and someone stole it.” Mama held up her hand and my lips clapped down on the next word I was about to say.

  “Markie Jean, I’m going to ask you this, one time and one time only. With everything I have, I believe Georgie when she said she didn’t take it. Now, I’m going to give you that same level of trust.”

  “Is it trust or is it guilt?”

  Mama glanced up and squeezed her eyes shut for a second before answering.

  “Markie Jean, I can’t say I don’t deserve that. You have a ways to go to trust me, if you ever do. But if this store owner believes you or Georgie stole from her… this is a different kind of trouble.

  “Markie Jean, I’m going to ask you one more time. Whatever you tell me will stand and we will proceed accordingly. Did you take that bracelet?”

  Markie pursed her lips. She was gonna plead the Fifth. Everything was falling apart.

  Lifting Markie’s chin to face her, Mama said, “Tell me the truth, please.” Mama found that gentleness that only she has.

  Markie yanked her chin from Mama’s hand. “I took it.”

  What she said dazed me.

  Mama grabbed her purse. “Where is it?”

  After a heavy sigh, Markie said, “Home. Where it belongs.”

  The office door opened and Aunt Essie peeked in. “Everything going okay?”

  “I’ve got it handled, Auntie,” Mama said. Then she said to Markie, “Let’s go. I’m taking you to your guardian now. We’ll get the bracelet and take it back to its owner.”

  As we were leaving the office, Markie said, “It’s already back to its owner.”

  Mama hung her head. “What are you talking about? You just said it was home.”

  Markie stepped back some. “It’s back with Aunt Vie. It’s her bracelet. I’d know it anywhere. I took it from Nettie and gave it back to Aunt Vie.”

  “Markie Jean, I’m trying to be patient. But I need to make this right before it gets worse,” Mama said.

  Markie straightened the cuff on her rolled-up sleeve. Then she took a deep breath. “I had come to visit Aunt Vie a while ago. She wasn’t working as many hours at the diner, and she wasn’t even driving anymore. She wanted to go to town. So we just walked. It wasn’t a big deal. On the way there, she wanted to stop at Goldie’s Pawn Shop. I didn’t know if she needed the money or not. I just didn’t know.”

  Aunt Essie put both hands on her hips. “I remember Vie saying something about Goldie’s, too. This was about two years ago.”

  “Aunt Vie told me not to say anything. How could I not do what she said? I had a feeling something odd was happening, but I was scared. I didn’t want anyone to know. Then everything seemed okay with Aunt Vie. We went back to get it and it was gone.”

  “Markie Jean, I believe everything you’re saying. But if Nettie bought it from Goldie’s, it’s her property now. We have to give it back.”

  Markie was turning her sneakers to the side. “But Aunt Vie didn’t mean to sell it. I wasn’t able to help her. It’s my fault that it’s gone. I wasn’t even able to take care of her. I should have figured out what was happening.” Then Markie faced Aunt Essie. “I should have told you we were walking into town. I tried to buy it back before he sold it. I tried,” she said.

  Aunt Essie came over and put her arm around Markie, which was the first time I’d seen her do that.

  “Exactly where did you leave it?” Mama said.

  “The last time I saw Aunt Vie, I slipped it into her pocket.”

  “So it’s there?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Let’s get the bracelet and take it back to Nettie’s. If she wants to sell it back, great; if not, hopefully we can just explain the situation and return it to her. And she won’t ever file a formal complaint.”

  “Think she’ll understand, Mama?” I said.

  Mama hiked her purse on her shoulder. “There is only one way to find out.”

  I hadn’t imagined—this time—that Markie was lying. That her elaborate tale about stealing the bracelet to return it to its rightful owner was nothing more than a masterfully told tale. But Mama and Grandma Sugar double searched all the pockets of Aunt Vie’s housecoats for the bracelet that Markie said she’d returned. When they both turned up zilch, I had to consider the possibility.

  “And you slid it right into the pocket of the housedress she had on the night Ms. Hannah was here,” Mama said after the failed search.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Markie replied.

  Grandma Sugar was involved, too. She and Peaches even looked around the yard.

  “Well, I did what I said. If nobody believes me, what’s new?”

  “You stop that,” Grandma Sugar said. “Aunt Essie wouldn’t have you working at the diner if she didn’t trust you.”

  “She only does it cause Aunt Vie asked her to.”

  “We both know that Aunt Essie don’t do nothing she don’t want to do.”

  Mama’s shoulders drooped. “Let’s go take another look.”

  “Can I go, too?” Markie said.

  As Mama opened the screen door, I called in another wish. Please, please, let Mama find that bracelet.

  When we got to Aunt Vie’s room, she was watching TV and nodding.

  “Hello, Auntie,” but she didn’t respond.

  Markie was behind me, but she brushed past me and Mama and wrapped her arms around Aunt Vie.

  “What’s wrong, child? What’s wrong, child?” she repeated.

  But that’s all Aunt Vie said. Markie straightened up and seemed to remember why we were up there.

  Mama was searching the floor and rechecking the clothes Aunt Vie had recently worn.

  “Did you check her hiding place?” Markie asked.

  “I did,” Mama said. “I knew it was a long shot, but Aunt Vie used to hide things under her mattress.” I lifted it. Nothing.

  As Mama straightened the mattress, Markie said, “There’s another place,” and tipped her head toward the walk-in closet. “Her favorite chef’s coat. It’s red. Ms. Hannah had it custom-made for her for Christmas one year. It’s the one she had on in the picture, Georgie, remember? The one I showed you.”

  “I remember,” I said.

  Markie nodded.

  Mama walked in the closet and found the red chef’s coat in the rear and brought it out. It was in dry-cleaning plastic and neatly pressed.

  When Mama held it up, Aunt Vie said, “Time to go to the diner?”

  “Not right now, Aunt Vie,” I said. “You’re going to a talent show soon.” She nodded.

  Then Mama lifted up the plastic and plunged her hand into one deep pocket. Please be there. Please be there. Nothing. But when she reached her hand inside the second pocket, she closed her eyes.

  I jumped. “It’s there, Mama? Isn’t it?”

  Mama’s eyes opened and her hand emerged with the sparkling bracelet.

  I hadn’t noticed that Grandma Sugar had come upstairs until her voice rang out, “I’ll be. Looka there.”

  Mama held the bracelet in her hand.

  “Told ya,” Markie said. “That’s her hiding place. She didn’t want to lose it again. Ms. Hannah had that made because Aunt Vie liked pockets.”

  “Something else is in here,” Mama said and reached in again and pulled out a necklace. Mama held it up.

  I gasped. “Oooo. Half a heart. That’s just like Ms. Hannah’s, Mama. She should have it on,” I said.

  We all had our attention on Aunt Vie now.

  “Aunt Vie is always fighting to let us know she’s here,” Mama said and looke
d at Grandma Sugar. “The girls and I need to go talk to Markie’s guardian.”

  “Still?” Markie said.

  “Sorry, Markie Jean, but we do,” Mama said. “She’s your guardian and needs to know about something like this. And I’m sure she’d be happy to know we’re returning it. What’s her name?”

  “Rosella,” Markie mumbled. “Why people always think that everybody cares about everything when they don’t?”

  Mama didn’t answer. Markie went over and squeezed Aunt Vie’s hand. But she never took her eyes off People’s Court.

  My phone dinged. A text from Nikki. “Found it?” she texted.

  “Yes. Taking it back.”

  “Cool. Get here soon. Talent is crazy good.”

  I just couldn’t wait to put this behind us so Markie and I could jump back in the middle of things.

  The ride to Markie’s foster home was quick and quiet. Although Mama had found the bracelet, we were back to where we were before that, which wasn’t the best place. Mama wanted Markie to sit up front with her. I don’t know if she thought that Markie would make a run for it, but I didn’t mind keeping an eye on her from the back seat. Bogalusa boomed with afternoon activities. I caught a glimpse of Scooter coming from the store. I almost expected Mama to honk like she knew him, too.

  I was nervous thinking about how Rosella would respond to Mama stopping by, but to calm myself, I visualized McClurie Park. Nikki and the sibs were there. And Uncle Dean was building a stage. We’d made all that happen. When Mama pulled up to Rosella’s, I just had to remember the good stuff as Mama knocked on her door.

  “And who are you, the new caseworker? Where is the one we had just a few weeks ago?” Rosella said to Mama. Then she directed her questions to Markie, “Did you lose your key?” Markie shook her head.

  “I’m not a caseworker. Markie Jean works down at Sweetings. It’s my family’s place. I’m Katrina,” Mama said.

  “Katrina? Humph. Would still be living my life in New Orleans if not for that nightmare. Trying to make my way back after all these years.”

  “It changed the lives of so many,” Mama said. “You’re Rosella, right?”