Give Me Wings

by Joy Redmond

  Then she had an idea. She’d fix Aunt Lou’s wagon, good and proper. She knelt on the floor, folded her hands, and prayed, “God, let me die! Right now! Amen.”

  She crawled back into bed, folded her arms across her chest, and closed her eyes, thinking, Aunt Lou is gonna be sorry when she finds me dead! She hoped Mama and Evan would meet her at the Pearly Gate. St. Peter could just stand aside.

  The next thing she heard was Aunt Lou, calling from the doorway, “Carnikko, it’s time to get up and get ready for school. Diana’s mother is driving you kids today.”

  Carnikko sat up, confused. Was she still alive? She shook her head sadly, then climbed out of bed. “Nothin' goes the way it’s supposed to anymore.”

  Holding back her tears, she closed her eyes—and was surprised to see Purple Angel fluttering across her eyeballs, smiling and waving before she disappeared.

  Carnikko smiled and said, “Bye! Come back soon.” Her heart was lighter—at least for the moment. Maybe Purple Angel would come more often now, and if she did, Carnikko knew she could bear anything.

  As the next few days passed, Carnikko waited for Aunt Lou to tell her about the Baptist home, but her aunt didn’t mention it. Friday afternoon, Carnikko saw a brand new car parked in front of the house as she was walking home from school. It was a blue Chrysler and didn’t have a speck of dirt on it anywhere.

  In the house, she saw a woman sitting on the couch beside Aunt Lou. She was wearing a fur coat, white gloves, alligator heels, and a matching handbag sat on the floor next to her legs.

  Aunt Lou smiled and said, “Carnikko, I want you to meet my Aunt Iris. She’s married to my daddy’s brother, my Uncle Otis.”

  Carnikko walked tentatively toward them until she was standing in front of Aunt Iris.

  Aunt Iris extended a gloved hand and said warmly, “It’s very nice to meet you, Carnikko.”

  Carnikko looked at the outstretched hand. Yeah, you’ve got on pretty gloves, but ya don’t have to shove them in my face like an uppity showoff, she thought, and instantly took a dislike to the woman. I reckon I’m supposed to call her Aunt Iris, too. But she ain’t my aunt.

  Aunt Lou said, “You’re supposed to shake hands with her, Carnikko.”

  Carnikko reached out and took Aunt Iris’s hand, feeling silly. Aunt Iris gently squeezed Carnikko’s hand and flashed a gleaming smile. Her eyes were light blue, but they seemed to be on the verge of tears.

  “Oh, Lou, she’s perfect,” Aunt Iris said.

  Though Carnikko didn’t know exactly what Aunt Iris meant, she had made it sound as if she were a child on an auction block and Aunt Iris was willing to pay a high price for her. She shuddered. Somebody stepped on my grave!

  Aunt Lou smiled, patted a spot on the couch beside her, and said, “Please sit here for a moment, Carnikko.”

  She didn’t want to sit, so she just stood where she was, waiting to find out what was going on. Aunt Lou cleared her throat, then continued, “Aunt Iris wants to take you home with her. She lives on a big farm, has a big house, and I think you’ll be happy with her and Uncle Otis.” Without waiting for Carnikko’s reaction, she added, “I’ve packed your clothes for you. They’re on your bed. Go get them.”

  Carnikko was too stunned to say anything. She just turned and walked silently toward her bedroom. As she was walking away, she heard Aunt Iris say, “Lou, this is the little girl I’ve been praying for. When I learned I couldn’t have children of my own, I was broken hearted, but I knew that God would send me a little girl to call my own someday. The moment I saw her, I knew that she was the answer to my prayers. Otis and I are forty-six years old. It’s time we started a family.”

  Aunt Lou replied, “Well, I think there have been a lot of prayers being sent up about Carnikko. She needs a good home, and I know she’ll be perfect for you and Uncle Otis.”

  As Carnikko picked up the two sacks containing her clothes, she heard Aunt Lou add, “She just turned ten in November, so she’s still young enough to train her the way you want her. She can be stubborn at times, but she minds if you’re firm with her, and she’s a good student.”

  Carnikko stood for a few minutes, wondering if Aunt Lou thought she needed to point out her flaws but to also out number them with good points in case Aunt Iris might want to back out of the deal. At that moment she felt as if she hated Aunt Lou. She was a traitor.

  As Carnikko walked slowly back into the living room, Aunt Iris stood and met her, saying, “I’ll take these two. You can go back and get the rest.”

  “That’s all I got,” Carnikko said flatly, looking up at Aunt Iris.

  “This is all you have?” Aunt Iris said, her eyes widening. Then she cleared her throat nervously before adding, “Well, okay. Come along, dear. I’m sure that Mr. Hodge will be just as happy to meet you as I am.”

  Carnikko wished that Purple Angel would swoop down, grab her, and whisk her off to their special place, but she knew in her heart that it wasn’t going to happen. She looked over at Aunt Lou, her eyes stinging. “Who’s Mr. Hodge?” she managed to asked, though her throat was constricted, and she wondered if she would ever be able to swallow again.

  Aunt Lou whispered, “Mr. Hodge is Uncle Otis. You’re going to like him.” She kissed Carnikko’s cheek.

  Carnikko’s anger made her want to wipe the kiss off, but she didn’t, fearing it might be the last time that Aunt Lou would ever kiss her.

  Aunt Iris thanked Aunt Lou again, then headed for the front door.

  Carnikko trailed behind her, numb to the core of her soul. She always thought Aunt Lou loved her, and maybe she did, but she had a strange way of showing it. After all, it was the second time that Aunt Lou had given her away. Carnikko vowed that she would never forgive her.

  When she reached the front door, Carnikko turned and said, “Will ya please tell Uncle Carl bye for me, and tell him I love him?”

  “I sure will, sweetheart,” Aunt Lou said, dabbing at her eyes. “And we love you, too. All we want is for you to be happy. You call me anytime you want.”

  Aunt Lou headed back to the couch, and Carnikko heard her sobbing as she and Aunt Iris walked out the door.

  As Aunt Iris drove toward her country home in Cross Pointe, a small community about the size of Canoe Cove, she tried to make conversation, but Carnikko was too hurt to talk. She merely grunted a few times.

  Finally, they pulled into a long driveway, and Aunt Iris stopped the car and got out, saying, “I need to get the mail.”

  Carnikko looked through the windshield—and her breath caught in her throat. She saw a white, two-story house with brown shutters and brown flower boxes under the windows. To her right, she saw a large pasture with black cattle. Straight ahead was a large barn.

  Aunt Iris smiled as she got back into the car and drove around to the back of the house where they pulled into a garage.

  “Well, dear,” she announced sweetly, “let’s go inside so you can unpack your things and I can get supper started for Mr. Hodge.”

  Carnikko got out of the car and walked out of the garage and gasped.

  Aunt Iris asked, “Are you alright, dear? You look a little pale.”

  Pointing to a tree, her finger trembling, Carnikko asked, “Is that a cherry tree, and does it have lots of cherries on it in the summertime?”

  “Why, yes, dear. By May it’ll be loaded, and we can pick some and make cherry pies,” Aunt Iris said, looking surprised.

  Carnikko looked to her left, pointed and struggled to make words come from her mouth as she asked, “Are those yer black cows in that pasture?”

  “Yes, dear. They’re Black Angus, and we have a hundred head. They bring a good price because they make the best beef.”

  Carnikko looked behind her. “And do you have two horses in that big barn?”

  “No, we don’t have horses. But we have two mules.” As Carnikko’s color returned at that answer, Aunt Iris added, “I was a schoolteacher for nineteen years before I got married, and I love inquisitive child
ren.”

  “Uh-huh,” Carnikko muttered.

  As Aunt Iris headed up the three steps that led to the back door, Carnikko followed a few steps behind. It was all very eerie—and she wondered how she knew about this place. She’d never been here before. She shuddered as chills ran the length of her spin.

  Aunt Iris opened the door, then stepped aside and gently guided Carnikko through first, saying, “This is the sun porch, where I grow my African violets.”

  They turned to the left and went through a door that led to the kitchen—the biggest kitchen Carnikko had ever seen.

  Aunt Iris set the sack of clothes she was carrying on the table and Carnikko did the same with hers. Then Aunt Iris smiled broadly, held out her hand, and said, “Now I’ll give you a tour.”

  In the living room, Carnikko saw a large Oriental rug in the middle of the floor and smaller matching rugs in the doorways to other rooms. There was a couch, a matching settee, a coffee table, and end tables that held beautiful lamps.

  “We need to hang up our coats,” Aunt Iris said, walking toward a hall tree. “Always hang up your coat, dear. Never throw it on furniture.”

  As Carnikko nodded, she saw stairs with a large banister against the far wall. The banister and steps were made of hardwood and shone like a new pair of patent leather shoes.

  Aunt Iris led Carnikko through the living room and into a smaller room. “This is the music room, art room, and library.”

  The room had built-in bookshelves from floor to ceiling, a baby grand piano set in the middle of the floor, and to her right she saw an easel holding a half-finished painting of a barn. As Carnikko drank it all in, she walked to the middle of the floor and her fingers touched several keys of the piano.

  Aunt Iris said, “I play a little, but not enough to brag about. If you’d like to learn how to play, we’ll hire a music teacher for you.”

  Carnikko’s head was spinning. She envisioned herself playing some of Mama’s favorite hymns. Mama would be so proud of her.

  Aunt Iris interrupted her reverie, saying, “Would you like to see the room we fixed especially for you?”

  As they walked back through the living room, Aunt Iris pointed to a door at the back of the staircase. “That’s Mr. Hodge’s and my bedroom. Please don’t go in there without permission.”

  Carnikko nodded again, wondering as they started up the stairs why Aunt Iris called her husband Mr. Hodge. When they reached the landing, Aunt Iris led her down a hallway and opened a door.

  As Carnikko stepped inside, Aunt Iris said, “I hope you like it.”

  Looking around, Carnikko saw that the bed had a pink satin tent-like thing above it. “I ain’t ever seen a bed with a tent over it except in a dream. It’s pretty!” she said, walking over to it, running her hand across pink satin that was as smooth as a butterfly’s wing.

  “It’s called a canopy, child,” Aunt Iris said in a tone that made Carnikko feel as if she was stupid.

  Well, I ain’t never seen a canopy before, either. How was I sꞌposed to know? Yer just uppity, the nervous child thought. She had the urge to run from the room, down the staircase and out the back door, but she didn’t know where she’d go after she was outside. She was stuck with this uppity woman, she guessed.

  Carnikko glanced to her right and saw a closet door slightly ajar, but she was almost afraid to look inside. She sat down on the bed, but Aunt Iris shrieked, “No! Never sit on a made bed. That’s not acceptable. We sit in chairs here!”

  Carnikko jumped as though she had just set down in an ant bed.

  Aunt Iris hurried over and ran her hands over the bedspread as if she were trying to put out a fire, saying, “I can’t stand wrinkles.”

  Carnikko instinctively took a step back, expecting a slap, but Aunt Iris just pointed to a chair next to the bed and said. “You go sit there and don’t move. I’ll get your clothes. Oh, and from now on, we won’t being saying ain’t. I know you’ve heard the word all your life because that’s the way your people talk, but it’s a sign of ignorance, and we simply don’t talk that way around here.”

  Carnikko bristled. Her family was not ignorant. Aunt Iris was acting like Grandma and Grandpa Winston, and Daddy said they were just plain uppity. Carnikko thought everything about Aunt Iris was a bit off and she began to wonder if Aunt Iris was from Mars. Maybe that’s why she had said, ‘your people.’ Maybe she was talking about earthlings.

  As soon as Aunt Iris left the room, Carnikko hurried over to the closet, anxious to see pretty dresses, petticoats and a pair of patent leather shoes.

  The closet was empty. She hung her head.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Carnikko looked around the room. She saw a pretty vanity with an oval mirror, a chest of drawers, and a bedside table with two drawers. All of the furniture matched. She looked out the window. The front yard appeared to be a mile wide. She looked down and saw that the front porch was made of concrete. It didn’t look right. She was used to wooden porches with warped and broken slats.

  In a short time, Aunt Iris came back into the bedroom, set the sacks on the dresser, and began pulling Carnikko’s clothes out, piece by piece. Finally, she said, “Well, pish posh! There’s nothing but rags in here!”

  “Yeah, I ain’t got no new clothes for quite a spell.” As Aunt Iris shot Carnikko a hard look, she quickly corrected herself. “I’m sorry. It’s gonna take a while to unlearn all the stuff I’ve been learnin' all my life.”

  Aunt Iris nodded. “That’s alright, dear. Tomorrow we’ll start working on your grammar. We just don’t want you talking like a hick. It makes you sound stupid, and we both know you’re not stupid by any means. And don’t say yeah when you answer me. Always say, yes ma’am.”

  Aunt Iris took Carnikko’s clothes and stuffed them back into the sacks. “Disgusting!” she said. “Tomorrow we’ll have to do something about this, but for now, I need to get started cooking. Let’s go back to the kitchen.” Iris held out her hand.

  Carnikko was leery of being too close, fearing Aunt Iris might start shining and big antennas might sprout from her head, poke her in the eyes, and fry her brain. Slowly, she headed in Aunt Iris’s direction, ready to run should Aunt Iris suddenly start to change form—or the whites of her eyes should turn red.

  As Aunt Iris led Carnikko out of the bedroom and into the hallway, she pointed to a door at the end of the hall and said, “That’s a storage room, but please don’t go in there either. I have precious things stored in there.”

  “Okay,” Carnikko mumbled, fearing if she disobeyed she’d be put on a spaceship, sent to Mars where Martians would cut her into a thousand pieces to see what she was made out of. She wiped sweat from her top lip as they continued down the hall and on downstairs.

  Back in the kitchen, Aunt Iris kissed Carnikko’s cheek and said, “You can sit at the table if you want while I fix supper.”

  Aunt Iris turned her head and Carnikko quickly wiped off the kiss, fearing she might have gotten Mars juice on her.

  “I’ll go get a book for you to read while I cook,” Aunt Iris said. She disappeared and returned shortly with a third grade reader. “Please read aloud for me, dear. I want to see how much we’ll need to teach you.”

  Carnikko said, “But I’m in the fourth grade. I done read this book already.”

  “I have already read this book,” Aunt Iris corrected.

  “Yeah, er, I mean, yes ma’am. I read it too,” Carnikko said.

  Aunt Iris sighed, turned toward the refrigerator, and said. “Nevertheless, please begin reading it aloud, dear.”

  Carnikko began reading, but after ten pages, she stopped, resisting the urge to yell, There! Are ya satisfied?

  “That was excellent!” Aunt Iris said, obviously pleased. “Now, I’ll go get a fourth grade reader for you.”

  When Aunt Iris returned, Carnikko read the first ten pages of the fourth grade reader. When she was finished, Aunt Iris walked over to her and said happily, “You’re a very bright young lady. I k
now you’ll always make me proud to be your mother.” She kissed Carnikko’s cheek again as tears welled. “God blessed me when He sent me you, dear.”

  Carnikko’s eyes widened. What was this mother stuff? She was still wondering when she heard the backdoor open. She heard footsteps, then a short, thin, balding man with brown eyes walked into the kitchen. He had on dirty overalls and the kind of shoes Grandpa always called clodhoppers.

  Aunt Iris took Carnikko’s hand, pulled her off of the chair, and said, “Otis, this is our little girl. She’s ten years old, and smart as a whip.”

  Uncle Otis looked at Carnikko for a moment, then said, “You remind me of a porcelain doll—so tiny and pretty.” He extended his hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, sugar pie.”

  Aunt Iris nudged Carnikko and said, “Give him your hand, dear.”

  Carnikko extended her hand and Uncle Otis shook it as if he were pumping the handle of the water pump at Grandma and Grandpa’s.

  Carnikko sat back down in the chair. Uncle Otis seemed to be nice, but she promised herself she’d be careful around him and never be alone with him. After all, she’d been fooled before.

  When Aunt Iris finished setting the table, she began instructing Carnikko on proper table manners: Don’t prop your elbows on the table, lay a napkin across your lap, keep your left hand in your lap, eat with your right hand only, don’t smack, never lick your fingers, don’t talk with food in your mouth, and on and on.

  Uncle Otis came back into the kitchen after washing up, took his seat at the table, bowed his head, and said the blessing. Then he spooned up a helping of mashed potatoes and handed the bowl to Aunt Iris. She took a helping and handed the bowl to Carnikko, who spooned a tiny portion onto her plate. Other bowls were passed to her, but she didn’t take anything else.

  “Is that all you’re going to eat?” Uncle Otis asked.

  “Yeah,” Carnikko said. “I guess I’m not very hungry.”

  “Don’t say yeah,” Aunt Iris corrected. “You say, yes, sir.”

  “Yes, sir,” she mumbled. She hesitated a moment then she took a tiny bite and instantly felt sick to her stomach. She jumped up from her chair, hoping to make it to the bathroom before she threw up.