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The Mason List

Page 5

by S. D. Hendrickson


  “And now, please join me in sending God’s child Anna, a loving wife and mother, back into His loving arms,” the Reverend’s voice carried a soothing tone.

  I stood beside my father as they lowered my mother into the deep hole. The place with the bugs. I imagined them waiting, six feet down, for the fancy box with silver leaves. Sitting in the dirt. Mouths open. Teeth bared.

  My father let go of my hand. He walked slowly to edge of the hole. His strong fingers absently crushed the delicate, yellow flower his hand. His body shook from the tears running down his cheeks. I felt a presence at my side and looked over to see Jess. He reached out and slipped his fingers into mine. Feeling his hand squeeze tight, a warmth spread through the coldness in my chest.

  “And from the great story that began in Genesis, Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return.” The Revered took a small handful of fresh soil and it trickled through his fingers down into the hole that held the casket. “Ashes to ashes and dust to dust. Amen.”

  My father released the crushed petals of the rose. I watched the yellow pieces float in the air and then disappear down into the darkness to their final resting place. My father turned and walked back to where I stood with Jess. His face wore a sadness I’d never seen in all our struggles. Mrs. Mason reached out with a handful of tissues. He blotted his eyes and sniffled into the white paper.

  “Come on, let’s go home.” My father placed an arm around my shoulders and Jess gave my hand one last squeeze. With dry eyes, I walked out of the cemetery wearing one of my fancy new dresses and shiny leather shoes, courtesy of the Masons.

  The Tanners were not alone the night of the funeral. The Masons and few others in the community came by to bring food and offer their condolences. A man named Mr. Buckley discussed a job opportunity for my father at the hardware store in Arlis. This Mr. Buckley wanted to retire. If all was well the next few months, my father would be the overseeing manager of Buckley’s Hardware on the Main Street Square in Arlis.

  The adults’ voices trickled out into dark while I sat with my arms draped over the railing of the front porch. My eyes watched the clear sky. Jess sat a foot away with his legs dangling over the ledge, bumping the side of the wooden porch.

  The night sounds of the meadow felt good compared to the sadness that filled the inside of our new house. My mind retraced the moments of the last twenty-four hours. I’d lost my mother today. Yet, the sadness didn’t come as it should from such an event. I think something might actually be broken inside of me.

  “So it looks like you’re stayin’ here,” Jess said, interrupting the silence of my broken thoughts.

  “Yeah…you mind?”

  “Nope, I think it’s gonna be fun havin’ someone else ‘round here,” his eyebrows furrowed together as he laughed in a way that meant only one thing.

  “Hey, you can’t get me in trouble anymore,” I bumped him with my shoulder. A smile formed on the corner of my lips just thinking of being here with him.

  “Nah…no trouble,” he laughed quietly. “We just can’t get caught. By the way, the hardware store is haunted.”

  “What?”

  “It is. I promise. I heard it from Gunther talkin’ at the feed store when I was there with Uncle Frank. You’ll be fine. Just don’t be there at night. Might see an ax go flyin’ through the air.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “I guess you can stay there one night and find out.” He gave me a wink. I rolled my eyes and then a faint glow caught my attention.

  “What was that?” I craned my neck, peering out in the darkness.

  “A shootin’ star. You ain’t never see one before?”

  “No. Like one of those just fell from the sky?”

  “Sort of. You have to make a wish now,” he grinned back at me.

  I focused off in the distance, trying to conjure up something that would make me feel better.

  “Now tell me what it is,” his syrupy voice pleaded.

  “I don’t think wishes work that way.”

  “Oh, come on. Please….Alex.”

  “Tell me yours first.”

  “I didn’t make a wish.”

  “You did too. I saw your eyes closed. Must have been a big wish.”

  I startled him. Jess blinked back at me for a moment with a rare loss of words, “I…um, can’t tell ya.”

  “Will you tell me if it comes true?”

  “Yeah, I promise,” he grinned. “There’s pictures up there, you know. I’ll teach you to find ‘em.”

  “Pictures?”

  “Yeah. Like that one’s the Big Dipper,” he said pointing above us. “It’s a big ice cream scoop.”

  I looked across the Texas sky, listening to Jess tell me about his pictures. In all my nights in Dallas, I’d never seen so many sparkling dots winking back at me. It was beautiful and mysterious, a never ending blanket wrapping the world up tight and cozy for the night.

  “Hey Jess, why don’t you have other people over to the ranch?” I asked casually. I’d pondered the thought for some time.

  “You really wanna know?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Most people want to be around us because they think we’re rich,” Jess answered with a flat tone.

  “You are rich.”

  “I know. It’s just not always fun havin’ everyone tryin’ to be your friend because of it.” Jess looked serious with the thought. “You don’t know what it’s like bein’ here in Arlis. But you’re goin’ to find out real soon.”

  “I’m sure you know about us. Your parents have paid for everything for my dad and me.” I didn’t intend the sneer in my tone, yet that’s what happened when I finally said those words out loud. It was a truth that haunted me for weeks.

  “I know.” He looked right at me with his blue eyes. “Actually, I knew that first day we met. My family pays for the hospice ward too. That’s why ya’ll moved to Arlis. Because of us.”

  He caught me off-guard. I remembered my father’s revelation of being accepted into the hospice ward in Arlis. The life-saving moment, according to him. I didn’t realize it was also funded by the Masons. In reality, I should have put that piece of the puzzle together before tonight. My stomach tightened up, and I looked back at Jess with wide eyes, hatred burning on my lips. I despised their stupid charity.

  “And that’s why, Alex. I know you’re different than the others. I knew it from the first day in the hallway. You hate the fact my family’s rich,” he smiled back smugly.

  Chapter 10

  Today, 9:37 p.m.

  It takes everything in my body to fight to the surface. Every time I try, the warmth of invisibility pulls me back down into the comfort of the past. It feels good there; deep in the meadow sunshine, seeing his blue eyes. Letting go, I finally emerge in the cold chambers of the hospital. I watch the beauty queen pour a glass of water. She carries it with a tight grip over to the side of the bed.

  “Drink this.”

  The restraints hold my wrist in their tight jaws. She pushes the straw up to my lips while I take a sip. The liquid tastes cool as it rinses the grit off my teeth. Pushing the hair back from my forehead, she looks at the cut.

  “You need stitches in that. If you want, I can take care of it.”

  My eyes grow wide at the mere thought of her offer. When I fail to respond, she pulls up a chair next to the bed. Faint black smears rest just below her perfect, blue eyes. I follow the outline of her face down to her blue scrubs. She has a pin close to the top with tiny kittens playing with tiny balls of yarn.

  “Are…” The sound crackles in my throat. “Are you working today?”

  “I was this mornin’.”

  “And now?” I squint in her direction feeling the painful glow of the florescent lights.

  “Well, I was leavin’ when I found you in the hall. So I stayed. Thought you needed some company.”

  Blinking back at her odd statement, I lift my hand up to rub the tension behind my eyes. The restraints keep my fingers in
place. An IV snakes out from the tape in the center of my left hand.

  “I want them off,” I beg to her.

  “Try to be still,” she smiles, though something resembling sadness lingers in the hollow depths of her lips. “I’ll turn off the lights.”

  The room slips into darkness except the faint glow of the moon. It was daylight when I came to the hospital. The warm summer day had become night. The world kept turning even when I wanted it to stop.

  I hurt. I hurt so deep inside. Two tears roll over my cheeks, soaking into the fabric of the pillow. With my hands in the cuffs, I can’t even wipe them away. I feel the soft fabric of a tissue dab at the corners. The blonde face stares down at me, the dark smudges appearing more prominent under each of her lashes. In that moment, I knew the beauty queen was crying too.

  Chapter 11

  When I was ten…

  After we dropped my mother in the ground, life had continued on without her. The Tanners traveled on a path across Sprayberry paved with Mason dollars. The closer we got, the more indebted we became to the family. My father took everything they offered without batting an eyelash.

  On the other hand, I let myself be pulled in by Jess. The broken, leftover shell of a girl felt bright and shiny whenever he stepped in a room. One look into those blue eyes and I did whatever his scheming mind conjured up for us. We did everything together and couldn’t be closer if our legs were bound tight with an actual rope.

  Just like tonight when Mrs. Mason took us to the annual Arlis Fair. We laughed and ate our way through the whole place. I looked down at the photo strip clasped in my hand. One of the clubs had an old-timey photo booth. As we walked past, I saw the costumes hanging from the rack. Jess refused until he saw the sword dangling from a hook. He couldn’t say no to being a pirate.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jess staring at his feet. He was still mad about the Tilt-a-Whirl.

  “I can’t believe you puked on my boots,” he muttered. “They’re my favorites.”

  “I told you not to make me eat your corndog after I had mine and a funnel cake. I couldn’t help it,” I glared at him. He would not blame this on me.

  “I’m not seein’ corndogs on ‘em. They’re stained blue from all your cotton candy. You ate three bags!” Jess crossed his arms and wrinkled up his eyebrows.

  “You made me go on the Tilt-a-Whirl. I told you I felt sick. But nooo!” My voice grew louder. “ You just had to ride it. Again!”

  “Well you made us take those stupid pictures and…”

  “Enough, you two.” Mrs. Mason cut Jess off as she intervened from the front of the Escalade. “Jessup, you have new boots at the house. I told you to stop wearing those anyway.”

  “Ahh, Mother. The new ones ain’t broken in. I just got these the way I like ‘em,”

  “I said enough! No more talking the rest of the way home. It’s been a very, very long evening.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” we answered in unison.

  I saw Mrs. Mason’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. She gave that look; the one that terrified me. Mrs. Mason got agitated every so often with us. The previous week, Jess and I had a burping contest in the living room. She walked in as we bickered over who could get the furthest in the alphabet. Mrs. Mason gave me the cold stare of unladylike death at the mere thought of me belching. Good thing she didn’t see one of our spitting contests. Goopy hacked up lougies. Jess was still better. He could hit a tree at six feet. My best was still only three.

  I turned my gaze out the window at the flashing red, blue, and yellow bulbs. It had been a magical night with carnival rides and games amidst all the smells. Cotton candy. My stomach lurched at the thought of it. The strong odor of sticky sweet vomit still lingered against the expensive leather of the Escalade.

  Arlis held a large town fair every fall. Local business and clubs lined the streets around the town square with concession booths and games. For us kids, we waited all year for the carnival rides to arrive from Dallas. Mrs. Mason worked the Arlis Women’s Auxiliary booth most of the evening. My father had stopped by briefly to check on me before heading home from the hardware store. It had been two years since he took the job.

  Mr. Buckley stayed true to his promise and retired. After six months, he put my father in charge of the complete management side of the business. He was excited to be getting things back in order for our lives. Money was still tight because of all the hospital bills and credit card debt we owed. Collection companies called frequently.

  We settled into a routine of me going to school and then home to Sprayberry. I stayed clear of most students. I’m not sure how they knew about my life with the Masons, but word twisted through the ears and mouths of the town residents and on to their children. In a place such as this, my presence was pegged as just a little different than everyone else. I was seen as poor but spent all my time with Jess Mason. In Arlis, that bit of information was very intriguing amongst those who liked to gossip.

  My hair grew back rather fast, and I learned to create two long braids down my shoulders all by myself. Mrs. Mason attempted to convert my style to resemble a girl and less like a tomboy. She visibly cringed every time I arrived at the house with Jess after school. I usually had on overalls or stained up jeans. Sometimes I wore a baseball cap on top of my head.

  The outfits she bought were just not practical for what Jess had planned during the afternoons on the ranch. Most evenings, I returned to the farmhouse covered in dirt from riding four-wheelers and fishing. I’d avoided horseback riding. I knew it was only a matter of time before Jess would stop taking no for an answer.

  Our parents limited us to only one sleepover a week or else that boy would stay every night. Sometimes we camped outside in a little red tent that my father set up in the front yard. Lying side by side, we stuck our head out the front flap to see the stars. Jess taught me all the pictures in the sky.

  When I spent the night at his house, Jess and I stayed in the Mason's’ theater room in sleeping bags. I’d never imagined an entire room just for watching movies. He kept a secret stash of every kind of candy imaginable. I watched him eat Gummy Bears together with Snickers, knowing he did it just to hear me squeal. Jess let me pick the movies because I insisted on watching the gory, horror kind that most girls hated.

  Spending time with Jess made the days pass with bursts of happiness. Those days kept me from falling completely into a black hole. The years of anger and sadness crept into my pale skin like a stain that refused to go away. I think that is why the idea of Jess felt so appealing. He was like sunlight to my dreary cloud.

  The Escalade came to a stop in front of the old farm house. I unlocked the door and stepped out in the driveway. “Thank you Mrs. Mason, for taking me to the carnival.”

  It was tough hearing those words come from my lips. It was a reoccurring statement just with an interchangeable last word. Tonight’s food, games, and ride tickets had all been courtesy of the Masons.

  “You’re welcome, Alexandra. Tell your father hello,” she smiled from the front seat, her strong drawl holding each word.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I looked over at Jess before shutting the door. I saw the sticky, blue goo all over the front of his boots and up the legs of his Wranglers. His blue eyes watched me from his seat. Dang it! I would be angry, too, if he puked all over me. I still wasn’t sure how it ended up all on his feet and none on my gray shoes.

  “I’m sorry about your boots, Jess,” I smiled a weak grin.

  “Ahh, it’s ok. I got some other ones.” He shrugged. “See ya tomorrow?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded back and shut the door. Right before it slammed, I saw Jess pull a red package from his pocket. You had to be kidding me! How could he still eat with that sickening, sweet smell of cotton candy in the car? I just shook my head and walked to the front door.

  “Hey Pumpkin, you have fun at the carnival?” I heard my father from the kitchen as I shut the door.

  “Yeah, it was good. Here’s a pictu
re.” I handed him the photo strip and looked around at the tiny white packages on the counter. “What’s all of that?”

  “Looks like you two had fun,” he smiled and handed it back. “Well, this is a steer. I’m trying to get all of it to fit into the freezer.”

  “A steer? Like hamburger and steak and stuff? Where did it come from?” I didn’t know why I asked. I surveyed the beggar’s loot sparkling like pirate booty with the Sprayberry logo stamped in red. I knew exactly who sent the little packages on the counter. We didn’t have the money for that large amount of meat.

  “Well, the ranch was butchering some for the year and they included us on the list. We do live on a cattle ranch, you know.” My father smiled down at me and nodded his head. “Should last us a long time, I would think.”

  “How much did that cost us?”

  “Well, we are tenants on the ranch. They just included us too.” I knew he didn’t understand what I was implying.

  “You mean they gave it to us. Just like everything else.” The words came out more sarcastic than he deserved, but I was tired of pretending all the time. We depended completely on this family.

  “Alex, it’s not like that.” He wasn’t angry yet but I knew I was pushing it.

  “Then how is it, Dad? Why do the Masons keep helping us and why do you just let them?” I saw my father contemplating what to say. I thought it would make him angry. Maybe I wanted it to make him angry. Let him see how I felt for a change.

  The Masons did everything. Something new or useful every time we turned around. Hundred dollar bills handed out like tissues to wipe away the grime.

  They gave us the perfect tree every Christmas, stocked with a pile of big presents and small presents covered in expensive, thick paper. I got a new bike last month just because I mentioned one day I used to ride around our old neighborhood in Dallas. In the spring, Mrs. Mason dolled me up in a special Easter dress. A grotesque pile of pink ruffles mailed all the way from some fancy shop in New York City.

 

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