by Lisa De Jong
When we find a secluded spot, Isaiah spreads a blanket out on the dirt and I pull out the food. I can’t believe I’m even hungry after all I’ve eaten today, but I think maybe I’m making up for lost time. I dig into the food with relish and Isaiah does too. We don’t say anything—just watch the water, feel the breeze and eat until we’ve finished every bite. When we’ve licked the honey off our fingers, we run to the water to rinse them.
“Want to get in and swim?” Isaiah asks.
“Sure, let’s do it!” I jump in, dress and all, and decide the next thing on my To-Do List is buying myself some jeans, maybe even shorts, with my money from the diner. What Nellie doesn’t know won’t hurt her. She’s already in the dark on a lot of things—jeans aren’t gonna make that much of a difference.
Chapter 9
The Almost Perfect Day
I just want to pause this day. If it could never end, I would be so blissfully happy. I’ve put out of my mind all the grief of yesterday. My tears are done. I will cry no more for my parents...not today, anyway.
There’s a quiet breeze by the water. I can’t remember a more pleasant summer day. The sun is shining down on us and feels so good as we swim. The heat is surprisingly mild, in the low 90s.
I wish I had packed a swimsuit, but I forgot it on my way out the door. I probably wouldn’t have had the nerve to wear it in front of Isaiah anyway. I tie the dress together in the middle and it works fine.
I did buy myself a bra after that embarrassing day with Nellie and have never been more glad to have it than now. I went to Woolworth’s and bought one with my saved money, however, I think I already need a new one. I may have already grown a few inches taller, too. I wasn’t kidding when I told Ruby I was a growing girl.
Isaiah and I swim for about an hour. We dunk each other for a while, laugh, float on our backs, and talk like we haven’t seen each other in ages. I can tell him anything.
“Caroline?”
We’re lying on the shore now, drying off. I’m staring up at the clouds, trying to memorize how I feel right now. I want to bottle up this day in my memory and bring it out whenever I need to remember something happy. Something good.
“Can I ask you something?” he whispers.
“Yes.”
“Do you think we’ll get married one day?”
“Are you asking me to?” I turn to face him and grin. “That’s not much of a proposal.” He looks so serious, I stop teasing and answer him truthfully, “I don’t know. I wish we could...do you think we will?”
“I know I will always want to. It just isn’t done, you know, not around here anyway. Maybe we could move somewhere else?”
“Where do you think we could go?”
“Mmm, I don’t know, maybe California?”
“Do you ever wish you were white?”
“No. Do you ever wish I was white?” He leans up on his elbow and looks over at me.
“No, never, but I’ve wished I was black many times.”
“You have? Why?”
“Well, for lots of reasons...I wish I could sing like a black person…”
“Well, not all black people can sing, you know…”
“You don’t think?”
“I don’t think, I know!” Isaiah laughs. “You should hear my Uncle Clyde. He can’t carry a tune to save his life!”
“Hmm, well, every black person I’ve ever heard sings really good.”
“What else?”
“Well, my curls and big lips would fit in better.”
“You do have the best lips,” he grins, “and your hair is perfect. If you had hair like mine, the curls wouldn’t be quite so... soft. And it would take a lot longer for you to do your hair.”
“Yours always looks nice. And soft, too.”
“You think so?
I nod.
“What else?” he asks.
“I like brown skin.”
“That’s a good reason. What else?”
“We could be together. And everyone could know…” This is the main reason I wish I was black.
He stares at me for a moment, studying my eyes and then my lips. My heart skips as I look back at his. I put my hand on his cheek and want to cry with how much I love him. He takes my hand and kisses it. Then he leans back on the blanket, still holding my hand. “Caroline?”
“What?”
“There’s not one single thing about you that I would change.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
This makes me smile.
“I do wish I could tell the world that you’re my girl, though.”
“Me too.”
It’s hard to leave our enchanted spot, but we reluctantly go. Isaiah needs to be home for supper. He wants more than anything to take me to his house, so I don’t have to be home alone, but I’m blissful enough from his attention today. I have a bounce in my step as I walk toward town.
After Isaiah and I part ways, I decide to stop in Harriet’s and give the biscuit pan back to Ruby. I go in through the back, and she’s whistling as she cooks.
“Hey, girl! I didn’t expect to see you back in here tonight!”
“I know. I was around, so I thought I’d bring your pan back. Thank you, we really enjoyed the biscuits.” I don’t want her to know who helped me eat them, but I also don’t want her to think I ate them all myself.
“Oh, you’re welcome. You had your supper yet?”
“No, ma’am. What are you making there?”
“Well, I’s tryin’ a new recipe. It’s slow out there tonight. Everyone out enjoyin’ this weather. I need to see if we want to add this here to the menu.” She points to the big pot on the stove. “I tried a different way of cookin’ my dumplins. See there...they’s lookin’ good, ain’t they?”
“They sure do.” My mouth waters, just looking at them.
“And then I shred the chicken. Cook all afternoon, so it be as tender as a mother’s love.”
I think Ruby would be a perfect mother.
“I’d be glad to sample it for you.” I grin so wide at her, my cheeks hurt.
“Here, sit yo’self down and I make you up a plate. You want some carrots along with it?”
“Yes, ma’am, that sounds delicious!”
“You is my new favorite person to cook for.” Ruby beams. “Is they anything you don’t like to eat?”
When Ruby says favorite, it sounds like favor-ite, the emphasis on the ‘i’. Grandpaw says it the same way.
“Liver and onions.” I wrinkle my nose.
“Well, naw, that don’t even count. I don’t know any child under the age of...fifty...who can wrap they stomach ‘round that!”
I laugh and she joins in. When she laughs, her eyes disappear, her shoulders bounce up and down, and often, she wipes tears from her eyes. I find myself always trying to make her laugh.
I sit down and eat the chicken and dumplings and they are delicious. Even the carrots are tastier than any I’ve eaten. I groan and moan and eat everything she puts in front of me.
“This definitely has to go on the menu!”
Ruby looks very pleased. “Well, let’s see if Miss Sue think so.”
We walk out the swinging door into the diner and Miss Sue is talking to some customers. There are only a few filled tables tonight. As soon as there’s a lull, Ruby motions for Miss Sue to come sample her dumplings. Miss Sue’s eyes just about roll back to all whites when she tastes them.
****
On my way home, I see three little black girls with braids bouncing as they jump rope. I admire their skill for a while and the songs they jump to, one after the other. I can’t help but think about my conversation with Isaiah. If I could be part of his world, his everyday world, I think I would be the happiest girl alive. I’m tired of hiding it.
Distracted, I walk past Thomas without even knowing it. “Caroline!” he calls.
I stop and turn around and Thomas is standing across the street in front of the school field waving. He’s
still dressed in his baseball uniform. The guys from the team play throughout the summer, usually after supper when the day has cooled.
I wave back and he crosses the street to meet me.
“Hey, how are you doing?” he asks, studying my face.
I’m embarrassed that I left our last conversation crying. I haven’t seen him since then and he looks so worried.
“I came to your house yesterday, looking for you. I was worried about you after the other day. Is everything all right?”
“Sorry to worry you. I got a job!” I smile brightly, trying to change the subject.
“Really? Where? Why do you need a job?” He wrinkles his nose. “It’s summer break. You need to be hanging out with me—Clara Mae, too—before we leave. You know we’re leaving for our trip soon. If you’re working all the time, the summer will be gone.”
“Well, I can hang out sometime in the afternoon. And evenings, too…”
“Good, how about coming over right now?” With this, he takes my hand and starts walking toward his house.
I stumble a bit to catch up with him and he doesn’t let go. While we walk, I’m a bit confused about why he’s still holding my hand but too nervous to let go. I’m still a little shy around him. He must still be feeling sorry for me, not knowing why I was so upset a few days ago.
“Well, I guess I could come over for a while.” I laugh. I don’t think I have much choice in the matter.
We walk past the oak trees, past the white Victorian on the corner, and past Mrs. Stanley’s rosebushes. My heart stops cold as I see Leroy and Les ride by us on their bikes. I begin to walk faster, hoping they won’t see me.
Leroy turns his bike around and drives past us another time, looking me in the eyes…letting me know he has seen me. I can’t explain it, but I feel a sick, cold dread in the pit of my stomach and want to be sick. His eyes pierce into mine and I glance away quickly, unable to look at him any more.
Thomas doesn’t seem to notice Leroy. He’s still holding my hand. In fact, he laces his fingers in mine, and I think my heart is going to beat right out of my chest. What’s going on here?
Leroy rides off with Les, and I breathe a little easier. But I’m still sweating over the encounter. I look up at Thomas and he’s gazing at me with a look I don’t recognize. Not from him, anyway.
We get to the edge of his driveway and he stops. He turns me to face him, lightly holding onto my arm.
“Caroline, can we talk for a minute before we go inside?”
“Sure, Thomas. What’s up?” I look at him, and for a moment I’m afraid that he knows everything. He looks nervous.
“Well, it’s just—we’ve known each other for a long time. Forever, really. And I know that you’re a lot younger than me and everything—even though you seem so much older than Clara Mae…” He looks at me as if expecting me to say something, but I really have no clue where he’s going with this.
He stutters along. “I know since you’re close to Clara Mae it could seem weird, but I think she’d be totally fine with it. You’re her favorite person in the world. I just—well, I just really, really like you and...I want to know if you like me. I think you do, but we’ve never talked about it...and I want to know if you would like to...go steady…” He stops then and takes a deep breath.
I’m stunned. I don’t know the first thing to say. I take a step back, open my mouth to speak and nothing comes out. What I wouldn’t give for a mother right about now. Somehow I think she would know the right thing to say in a time like this.
I try again, opening my mouth to form a word, but shut it again.
Thomas moves his hand down my arm, holding my hand again and says, “Caroline? Did you hear what I said?”
I nod my head.
He smiles, the light reaching his eyes. It’s plain to see why every girl in town is smitten with him. Even Miss Greener flirts with Thomas Owens when she sees him.
“Do you have anything you’d like to say?”
I take a deep breath and say, “Wow, Thomas, you’ve shocked me with this one.”
Brilliant, I know, but it’s all I can come up with.
“Really? I thought you always knew how I felt about you.”
“No!” I laugh, feeling a bit hysterical. “Not really! I can’t say I ever really thought this!”
His smile fades just a little, and he shakes my hands with his. “You do like me, though, don’t you?”
“I like you so much, Thomas. I’ve just never thought of you...like that,” I admit.
He lets go of my hands then and when I look in his eyes, I’m horrified to see the shadow that has crossed over his features.
I grab his hands back, wanting to make him happy again. “Thomas, please don’t be upset with me! Please. I never meant to hurt you. I just never knew. I never knew you...I guess I’m just…you know, younger than you think…” I stop because I realize that I’m not too young to know how I feel about him, and I would never want to say something that I didn’t feel.
“I love both you and Clara Mae. You are so important to me. Please! Let’s stay how we are,” I plead with him, now shaking his hands in mine.
He gives me an awkward smile and says, “I’ll always be your friend, Caroline. And,” he leans down and whispers in my ear, “I’ll wait for you to feel the same. Maybe in a couple years you’ll be ready for me.” With that, he gives me a full smile and kisses my cheek.
We go in the house, and Mrs. Owens is in the kitchen. I think she lives in there.
“Caroline! So good to see you, honey! How’s your summer goin’?”
“Pretty well. I’ve been staying busy. I’m working at Harriet’s now.”
“Oh my! Well, that’s great! Just don’t work so hard that you can’t still come see us.”
“No way. I can always make time to come over here.”
To me, Mrs. Owens is the personification of a beautiful lady. Her hair is blonde, her eyes are a deep green and when she laughs, her whole face lights up. She loves her children and this may be what I find the most beautiful. Her feelings for them are evident in the way she looks at them and talks to them. She makes me feel special too, each time I’m here.
“Why don’t you plan on coming over as often as you can before we leave for our trip?” She suggests as she spoons large spoonfuls of cookie dough on a tray.
“That sounds really nice.”
“Clara Mae!” Mrs. Owens calls. “Caroline is here!”
Clara Mae comes bounding out of her room and hurries over to hug my neck. She immediately launches into what she’d like to do now that I’m here. I look over at Thomas and he’s watching us from his stool at the counter. He looks dejected, and I feel bad that I made him sad.
I stay in Clara Mae’s room most of the night. We listen to our favorite records and dance around singing in her hairspray bottles. We collapse on her bed in giggles when she does a particularly clumsy dance move.
“Why don’t you just spend the night, Caroline? I know it would be fine with my mom.”
“Oh, I wish I could, but I should get going to let Josh out.” I really do wish I could stay. “It’s been so much fun.”
“Aw, let your parents do it for once. Come on, stay!”
“I can’t. You know, I actually better get going now. It’s getting dark out.”
“Shoot. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She pouts.
“I’ll come back soon, I promise. How about day after tomorrow?” I ask.
“Okay.” She gives in. “Come on, I’ll ask Thomas to walk you home.”
“No! I mean—it’s no trouble! I can get home by myself.”
“He won’t mind.” And before I can say another word, she’s yelling, “Thomas! Thooooomas!”
He comes out of his room, freshly showered and in his sweatpants and jersey.
“Can you walk Caroline home? She needs to get home to let Josh out.”
“It’s really not a big deal, Thomas. I can walk home myself,” I insist.
“Don’t be silly. Of course, I’m walking you home.”
I tell Mr. and Mrs. Owens good night and we start the walk home.
It isn’t a far walk, but it feels like forever because neither of us says a word the entire walk home. When we finally reach my door, I turn to tell Thomas thank you for walking me home and the next thing I know, he’s kissing me. What in the world?
This is a kiss altogether different from Isaiah’s kiss. I can tell Thomas has done this before. I really don’t know what to do. Why I don’t just push him away, I don’t know, but I have it ingrained in me not to hurt anyone’s feelings. Guilt washes over me, but I just let him go on and kiss me. When he tries to get a bit more serious about it, I push him back.
“Sorry, Caroline,” he says. He turns and runs down the road.
Chapter 10
Complications
Well, this sure puts a kink in things. All night, I lie awake thinking about Thomas professing his feelings, the kiss, and Isaiah. Then I go back to the kiss…
Clara Mae and I have talked about kissing quite a bit. We’re big fans of romantic movies and have studied kissing extensively. When we found out that tongues are actually involved—again from Jody, the fount of all worldly knowledge—we didn’t watch our favorite movies for a while. Then, when we did, we tried to determine if we could see it happening there on the screen. It almost ruined the whole thing for us.
So when Thomas tried it on me, I was curious about it, but appalled. I can’t believe he likes me and that he kissed me. I mean, really kissed me!
I would hate for Isaiah to ever find out. He would be so upset. I would die if I knew he had kissed someone else. And even though I know my feelings haven’t changed for Isaiah, I can’t help but feel that I caused this to happen with Thomas. I must have done something to make him think I liked him. And I must have made him think he could kiss me. And then for me to not stop him right away!
I toss and turn all night. I don’t think I can live with this guilt.