In the Fields

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In the Fields Page 4

by Willow Aster


  She pulls her hand away, and I step closer to her.

  “Thank you, Mr. Gentry, that will be 35 cents,” I speak up. I want this piece of trash out of my house. Now. He doesn’t acknowledge me, just rakes his eyes over Mama.

  “Are you raisin’ your prices on me, Sadie? You don’t need to get uppity on me now, even if you are the only seamstress in town. I send you a lot of customers, you know. Not many people want to come to a colored lady’s house. Even if she is the prettiest colored in town.” He snickers.

  I inch closer to Mr. Gentry and glare him down.

  Mama speaks softly, “And we appreciate all your business, Mr. Gentry. Remember I told you the other day that it would be 35 cents?”

  “I’m just giving you a hard time, Sadie. No need to get your tail tied in a knot, boy.” His eyes gleam as he laughs at me.

  I want to punch his face so bad, but I take deep breaths instead.

  Mama walks to the door, holding out the receipt for the pants. Mr. Gentry pulls out his money and is still laughing as he leaves.

  “Dammit, Mama, I wish you didn’t have to work for people like him!” I practically chew a hole in my jaw, as I watch Mr. Gentry walk to his car.

  “You watch your mouth, Isaiah Cornelius Washington!” she yells at me. “Don’t you be lettin’ him bring you down to his level! If God wanted you to use that kind of language, your mouth would come equipped with soap!” she cries.

  “Yes, ma’am. Sorry, Mama.”

  Mama doesn’t tolerate language.

  “He’s harmless, Isaiah,” she says, after she’s cooled off, but I can tell she’s troubled by the visit.

  She pulls out a book from our tall bookshelf and says, “Read to me for a while, son.”

  Her smile calms me down, and I take the thick book from her hands. We may not have much, but we’re proud of our book collection. I’ve already read all the classics several times over. If there’s one thing Mama has instilled in me, it’s to be hungry for knowledge. Otherwise, she says I’ll never go anywhere in this life. And she desperately wants me to go somewhere, hopefully far, far away from Tulma. As long as I take her with me when I go.

  Tulma isn’t a bad town; it’s a nice place. If you’re white, it’s a wonderful place. It may be small, but it has a charm all its own. The views by the river are beautiful and the weather is hot, but not nearly as hot as further south.

  Mama has grown up here and it’s home, but she wants more for me. She wants me to go to college and not be held back by the small-minded people here. When she imagines leaving her family and her church, though, I can tell she gets sick at the thought. We’ll just cross that bridge when we come to it, I guess. Mama nestles beside me as I begin to read.

  TODAY’S MY BIRTHDAY and the last day of school. I haven’t been back since everything happened, not quite a week, so I can’t say that I’m happy to be going on my birthday. Nothing like feeling conspicuous when there’s nothing you could desire any less.

  And yet, I’m not ready for school to be over. No school means endless days of being alone. I think I might go mad with all the time I’ll have on my hands.

  Last year on my birthday, my dad and I ate dinner together while my mother was out late for a work party. My dad got more and more drunk as the night went on. We still had a nice time together; for the most part, he handles his liquor pretty well. Except the times he doesn’t. But on my birthday, he seemed to try extra hard to be pleasant. He gave me a necklace that I’ve worn ever since. It’s a gold chain with a small, gold “C” on it. I never take it off.

  My mother came in dressed up from her party, and she came over and patted my cheek. She pulled a cupcake from behind her back and gave it to me. I still remember exactly how it looked: pale pink frosting with a white daisy in the center. The frosting was delicious. I ate it slowly, so I could savor each bite.

  WHEN I GET on the bus, Miss Greener is so happy to see me. She pulls me close as I step up the stairs of the bus. Her grey fedora threatens to fall off as I clumsily hug her.

  “Caroline, how are you doing, sweetheart? I’ve been extremely concerned about you. How’s your hand?”

  “It’s much better.”

  “I’ve been wanting to come check on you, but thought I better just wait until you came back.” She looks at me, saying a lot with her eyes. “Will you let me know if there’s anything I can do?”

  “Yes, I will. Thank you.” I take my seat and get my new book out to read.

  “Oh, and Caroline—happy birthday.” Miss Greener beams at me and passes back a package of all kinds of flower seeds. The packets are tied together with a bright yellow bow.

  “Thank you, Miss Greener! I can’t wait to try these...thank you.” I lean back in my seat, looking over each packet.

  THERE’S A CARD from Isaiah in my locker. I save it until I have a quiet moment in study hall. The tears come with the very first sentence. I lay my head on the desk and read the rest with the card on my lap.

  Dear Caroline,

  When you were born, the angels stopped what they were doing and said, “I want to be just like her.”

  God said, “There is only one Caroline. You will just have to be satisfied with watching over her.”

  So that is exactly what they do. They watch over you night and day. Keeping guard over you as you sleep, smiling at the funny things you say, in awe of your beauty and wishing to be your friend.

  And then there’s me, always here, standing just on the edge of wherever you are, but so happy for every time our worlds collide. When everything else blurs and it’s just you and me. You make me believe anything is possible.

  Happy Birthday, Caroline.

  I love you,

  Isaiah

  Besides being the sweetest words I’ve ever read, he loves me. Hearing him say that makes it feel like everything might be okay.

  CLARA MAE AND her brother Thomas catch up with me as I’m getting ready to walk home.

  “What are you doin’ the rest of the day, Caroline?” Clara Mae asks.

  “I really don’t have any specific plans,” I tell her.

  “Why don’t you come over to our house for a while? You can still beat your mom home, if you want,” Thomas says.

  All the girls in town swoon over Thomas. I can see why they do. Every year in the Tulma High yearbook, he wins the student poll for Most Handsome and Most Popular. Guys like him too, since he’s a good football player.

  I like him because he’s nice. He’s seventeen but has never seemed bugged by having me around. He’s crazy about Clara Mae, which endears him to me more. I’ve always been a little envious of their relationship. It would be nice to have an older brother.

  Clara Mae hooks one arm through Thomas’s and another through mine. “Come on, we’re not taking no for an answer.”

  I look over my shoulder and see Isaiah waiting around to see if I’m coming. In a single glance, I try to silently apologize. I want to tell him how much his card means to me, but it also sounds so good to have a place to go instead of home.

  “What, you’d rather hang around school instead of coming to our house?” Thomas laughs. “I know we’re not very exciting, but it’s gotta be better than this!”

  I look past Thomas and say loud enough for Isaiah to hear, “Sure, I’ll come over, but I have to be home by 5:30.” That will still give me time to talk to him before my mom gets home.

  The hurt in Isaiah’s eyes is unmistakable. I immediately want to take it back, but before I can say anything else, they’ve turned me around and we’re marching to their house. I feel awful about hurting him, but they’re doing everything they can to make me laugh. Our arms still looped together, Thomas stops suddenly, making us all jerk to a stop. Just when we come to a full stop, he takes off, practically running, with us trying to keep up. He does the same thing over and over again until we get home, and by the time we’re there, I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe.

  We walk into their sunny kitchen and Mrs. Owens, who asks
me to please call her Miss Suzanne every time I come over, is just pulling cookies out of the oven. It really is that perfect.

  We go outside with our cookies and eat them under the big willow tree in their backyard, and I wonder why I’ve put off this visit for so long. I always enjoy myself when I’m here. A few minutes into our conversation, I’m reminded.

  “Do you have a big party planned, Caroline?” Thomas asks. “Your mother seems like she would throw big parties. I still remember the church carnival she put together last year. Do you remember that magician she hired? Where did she even find him?”

  “I think he was from Memphis,” I answer, wishing I could change the subject already.

  “Your mother seems really cool. When I went in the bank last week, she invited Clara Mae and me over to your house sometime for supper. I thought that was nice.”

  “Yeah, that would be nice. You should come.” Maybe she’ll even show up for you.

  Clara Mae pipes up, “She is so beautiful. Has she ever shown you her dress when she won Miss Tennessee? My dad still talks about how pretty she was the night she won. I think it makes my mother jealous, though.” Clara Mae laughs. “Daddy says she was the prettiest girl this side of Texas, besides Mama.”

  “Well, now Caroline is.” Thomas grins at me, his eyes bright.

  “So what are y’all doin’ this summer?” Desperate to change the subject.

  “We’re supposed to go on vacation in a month, but other than that, I think we should swim. A lot.” Clara Mae sticks her toes in the water. “The pool is ready. Next time you come over, we’ll go swimming.”

  “That sounds great. You know I love to swim, but I’m still not very good.”

  “Oh, I bet you are.” Thomas is looking at me in a different way today. I feel extra fidgety under his steady gaze.

  “Do you have any new dolls, Clara Mae?” I wish Thomas would go inside.

  “I do! Come inside, I’ll show you.” Clara Mae has a huge collection of porcelain dolls.

  Thomas groans, “Aw, come on! Let’s go down to the river. That’s way more fun than those silly dolls! Don’t they scare you just a little with their eyes, all blink-blink and real-looking?”

  “Come on, Caroline, my brother is trying to hog you as usual.” Clara Mae takes my hand and we run inside to her room.

  The dolls are beautiful. I’ve never really played with dolls and feel that fifteen is surely too old to start, but I still appreciate Clara Mae’s collection. She has every kind imaginable. At first I’m afraid to touch them, but Clara Mae pushes one into my hands. I set it carefully beside me and watch as she takes one and plays with the doll’s hair. She’s really good, keeping me completely mesmerized with her twists and turns of the curls into an elaborate hairdo. Before I know it, Mrs. Owens is knocking on the door, saying, “Caroline, are you ready? It’s almost 5:30.”

  I’M SO GLAD I went—it took my mind off of things. I just hope Isaiah isn’t too upset with me. After I wave goodbye to Mrs. Owens and Clara Mae, I look down and on the doorstep is a small box. It’s wrapped in pretty lavender paper. I carefully tear the wrapping off and open the box. Inside, there’s a small wooden jewelry box. The wood is dark walnut and perfectly smooth. I rub it over and over, loving the soft finish. Inside the jewelry box, a tiny “I + C” is etched into the wood. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever been given. This must be what Isaiah has been making. He has hinted several times that he was making me something, but I didn’t imagine it would be so special.

  I run inside and wait for him to call. And wait and wait.

  It’s after 6 o’clock and still no call. Still no word from my mother, either.

  Nellie calls at 6:30 and says, “Grandpaw and I will be over in a jiffy with your present, dear. You’re not in the middle of dinner yet, are ye?”

  “No, come on over, we haven’t eaten yet.”

  “All righty, we’ll be over shortly.” Nellie always hangs up on me. I don’t think she means to, just once she has said what she wants to say, she’s done.

  True to their word, they’re over in a jiffy. By this time, my stomach is rumbling, but I haven’t started supper. In the back of my mind, I think my mom will probably be home any minute with a plan for supper. Grandpaw & Nellie come in the door with big hugs and kisses.

  “How does it feel to be fifteen?” Grandpaw asks.

  “Well, about the same as fourteen so far,” I say with a grin.

  “You look an inch taller already. You better slow down or you’re gonna pass Nellie up.”

  He pokes my ribs and makes me laugh.

  “I wish I’d stop, I’m already the tallest girl in my class. And taller than most of the boys too.”

  Except Isaiah.

  “Oh, don’t you be ashamed of that,” Nellie speaks up. “You look like one of them models.”

  “A damn fine model!” Grandpaw whistles.

  “Edward! You hush your mouth.” Nellie swats Grandpaw's backside.

  “Well, she is a damn fine beauty. Anyone can see that.”

  “You just mind your mouth, mister.” She glares at him and then turns to me, smiling. She’s hilarious the way she can turn it on and off like that. “Pretty is as pretty does, Caroline. You’re sweet and that’s what matters.”

  “Thank you, Nellie.” I blush for about the fiftieth time that day. I also wonder why my mama doesn’t seem to agree with Nellie’s theory on beauty.

  “Now where is that mother of yours?” Nellie asks.

  I notice she doesn’t even mention my daddy. I wonder if they’ve talked to him. They’d be who he’d call over Mama right now, probably.

  “I haven’t heard from her yet. I’m not sure,” I answer.

  “Well, it’s gettin’ to be late. Have you had your supper yet?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Well, where is that girl?” Grandpaw asks. “Why don’t we take our birthday girl out to eat and leave a note for Jenny to meet us.”

  “That’s a right fine idea, Edward. Turns out you are good for somethin’.” Nellie gets her purse. “Does that sound good to you, honey?”

  “Yes, ma’am, it does. I’m hungry. Where should we go?”

  “Well, there are only two choices that are open this late around here. How ’bout Dixie’s?”

  “I love Dixie’s!”

  “Let’s get a move on then.”

  DIXIE’S IS A restaurant in an old Victorian house, just this side of the river. The owner, Dixie, is a warm, buxom woman who laughs loud and often. Her laugh reverberates so in the uncarpeted house that Grandpaw says he’s only going to think of sad things to say. I love Dixie—I’ve loved coming here since I was a little girl. She makes the best mashed potatoes.

  “Why, hello, Caroline! My, you’ve grown up since the last time I saw you!” Dixie shouts.

  “Hello, Miss Dixie.” I smile shyly.

  “Do you want your regular?” she asks.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  It’s no time before Dixie brings out her delicious roast beef, mashed potatoes and sweet carrots. For dessert, we have warm bread pudding with rum sauce. I eat until I’m stuffed and realize I’ve managed to be happy this whole day, even without my mama and daddy.

  MAMA NEVER SHOWS up at the restaurant and isn’t home either. Nellie is bewildered by her and says she’s worried about that girl.

  “I think we should call the police, Edward. She wouldn’t miss Caroline’s birthday like this. Something is wrong.”

  “No, Nellie. I’m sure she just got caught up in work or something…” He doesn’t look me in the eyes.

  “You know, she did mention that she had to work late,” I say before I can think. My gut twinges a bit with the fib.

  “She did?” Nellie asks. “Well, I’m glad to hear that, although I can’t believe she would do that on your birthday. I’m sorry, honey.”

  “Oh, it’s all right. I had a nice time with you.” I kiss their cheeks. “It was a really nice birthday. Thank you.”


  “Our pleasure, dear. Would you like us to come in for a while?”

  “No, ma’am, it’s okay. I’m good. I’ll just read for a while and go to bed. I’m sure Mama will be home soon.”

  “Ok, dove. We love ya.”

  “I love you, too.”

  They watch as I go inside and when I look out the window, I wave. They drive away, tooting the horn once as they go.

  I have a hard time sleeping. Mama doesn’t come home. I never talk to Isaiah. I miss my daddy. I’m fifteen years old.

  FIRST DAY OF Summer Vacation To-Do List:

  1. Take my time getting up.

  2. Read a while.

  3. Leave my bed unmade all day long.

  4. Take Josh for a walk.

  5. Write in my journal.

  6. Go to the library.

  I've done the first five things all before 10 o’clock. At precisely 10 o’clock, I’m also showered and on my way to the library. It’s a 15-minute walk and I’m sweating by the time I get there. The humidity has kicked in full swing. How did Scarlett O’Hara manage to never sweat? I s’pose she never walked even this far in the heat. She probably never had need of a library either, come to think of it.

  I go to the self-help area and look at all the parenting books. I see a book called Making Divorce Easier for Your Children. I take it and Learning to Cope after Divorce over to a table and read them both for a long time. I have an encyclopedia covering the books, so if anyone walks by, they won’t see what I’m reading. It’s close to impossible to keep secrets when you know everyone in town, but I’m going to try anyway.

  Learning to Cope After Divorce says it’s important to get out and resume living a full life. Don’t just wallow in self-misery, but get out and see people. Experience life, it says. In Making Divorce Easier for Your Children, it encourages parents to each give one-on-one time with their children. Make sure you let your child know it’s not their fault that you can’t live together, it says.

 

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