by Sandra Kring
“Button? What’s taking you so long? I need your help in here,” Ma called.
“Coming!” I yelled back.
When I got to the kitchen, Ma was slicing peeled eggs over the top of a bowl of potato salad and sprinkling it with that orange spice I hated. She was wearing a new red top and white pedal pushers. Her hair and face were fixed up real nice. “You’ll have to have cold cereal this morning, Evelyn. Then, after you eat, I want you to pack the plastic forks and paper cups, napkins, and, oh, get out the checkered tablecloth we use for picnics.”
I was so excited, I didn’t even want to eat my Trix cereal, because I loved the Marty Graw the same as I loved Christmas. I loved the parade down Main Street, with the Dauber marching band banging drums and tooting horns, and the floats made out of Kleenex flowers, where girls in long dresses were propped, waving and smiling, and trying to be the prettiest so they could be the Marty Graw queen. Some of the men driving the floats, and the clowns walking beside them, threw candy. Afterward, there was a carnival down by the river, where you could go on rides and eat cotton candy or ice cream cones till your stomach hurt. And best of all was the fireworks. We’d sit on blankets down by the river—the carnival rides blinking with lights and pumping music behind us—and we’d watch the decorated floats drift down the water, the fireworks booming above them, the sparks whistling as they fell, dying out just before they landed on the floats. After fireworks, a band always played in the gazebo, but we never stayed for that.
“Oh, look at the time,” Ma said. “And you’re still not dressed yet. Never mind the packing, I’ll do that. You just finish eating, then get dressed. I’ll do the rest.”
I scooped the last of the soggy cereal into my mouth, rinsed my bowl in the sink, then ran to my room. Even getting dressed that day was fun, because Aunt Verdella had made me and Winnalee matching outfits. Little blouses striped with red and white, and short navy blue skirts, with what she called “bloomers” underneath. After I put mine on, I ran to look in the mirror that hung behind the door in Ma’s sewing room. My skirt looked just like an ice skater’s skirt, so I leaned over and lifted my arms out like an airplane, then stretched one leg out behind me.
“Look at how cute you look,” Ma said when I got back to the kitchen. I grinned, because I think she really meant it. She came to me and lifted the hem of the skirt to yank off a dangling thread. She examined the stitches along the hem part, which were a bit zigzagged, and she grinned at Aunt Verdella’s sewing, but her grin wasn’t mean. Then she went to the skinny closet where she kept the ironing board and broom and other tall stuff, and she pulled a bag off of the shelf on top. She handed it to me. “Verdella showed me your outfits, so…well, here.” The bag didn’t weigh more than a feather. I peeked inside. “I know the ones you girls have are falling apart. Besides, they wouldn’t match your festive colors.”
I took out one of the navy blue headbands, dabbing at the one red flower off to the side, hoping it wouldn’t fall off right away, like the flowers on our other headbands had, leaving a row of dried glue dots that looked like the swollen spots on a baby’s gums. I don’t know why I got a lump in my throat when I saw those headbands, but I did. I swallowed hard so I wouldn’t start making those noises in my throat. “Thank you, Ma. They’re real pretty. And they match our outfits real good too.”
Ma tapped her fingertips together a few times and smiled. “Okay. I’d better get finished packing here. Your dad’s taking a bath, and everyone will be here any minute.”
I went outside and sat on the steps to wait, my big ears listening for the rumble of Aunt Verdella’s car down Peters Road. My hands kept reaching up to my headband, and my eyes kept looking down at my little pleated skirt.
When I heard a car, I leapt off of the steps, sure that it was the Bel Air. But it wasn’t. It was a white car coming from the direction of town. I expected it to drive right by our house, but instead it pulled into our driveway.
I stood up and cupped my hand over the top of my eyes to block the sun so I could see who it was. The car had to stop before I figured it out, though. And then, before they could even get out of the car, I raced into the house and straight to the kitchen. “Ma! Ma! Aunt Stella and her girls are here!”
“What?” Ma was at the table, putting a Tupperware bowl into one of the orange coolers. “Stella? She never said she was stopping by.”
“Hello!” came Aunt Stella’s voice. I could see Daddy stepping out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around him like a white skirt. He looked at Ma, cussed, then hurried off to their bedroom.
“In the kitchen,” Ma called.
I folded my hands behind me and backed up against the fridge when Aunt Stella and her tall girls filled the room. “Stella, what are you doing here?” Ma asked. Stella didn’t answer right away. She was too busy gawking at Ma. So were Judy and Cindy.
“Jewel!” Aunt Stella said. “What on earth have you done to yourself?”
For a second, Ma turned back into her old self. Her shoulders drooped down, and her chin tucked down. She took a quick breath and blew it out before she looked up. She dabbed at her bubble hair, then her hand slid down over her round plastic earring and smoothed over the front of her new blouse. She smiled, her pearly lips a bit shaky.
“Your hair! And makeup? Good heavens, Jewel!”
In the worst way, I wanted Aunt Stella to stop right there and say to Ma, “I had no idea you were this pretty, Jewel. I’m sorry about every single, rotten thing I ever said to you.” I wanted her to say those things so bad that I held my breath as I hoped.
“She looks terrific, doesn’t she?” We all looked as Daddy came into the kitchen, his wet hair wearing little trails where his comb had been. I couldn’t hardly believe my ears, because for as long as I could remember, I’d never heard my daddy say that my ma looked anything, much less terrific. “This cooler ready?” he asked, picking up the lid. Ma stood up taller and lifted her chin. “It’s ready,” she said. Her smile was as bright as the smile of a Marty Graw queen.
“Well, I, um…” Aunt Stella didn’t seem to know quite what to say, so I guess she decided to say nothing and to just keep staring instead.
Ma repeated her question. “I didn’t know you were stopping in, Stella. Where you headed?”
“Well, we’re on our way back home. We were in Minneapolis for a few days at my dear friend’s house. We were planning on staying there until tomorrow, but Ralph sprained his ankle bad yesterday while hiking with the church youth group. He’s completely laid up, so I figured we should hurry home. The girls were getting hungry and had to use a restroom, so I told them we’d swing by this way.” She turned to Judy and Cindy and smiled, then turned back to Ma. “The girls are funny about public restrooms, just as I am. I knew you’d want to see them anyway, since you haven’t seen them in such a long time.”
Ma looked at my cousins, same as I did. Judy wore a cloth headband holding back long hair that flipped up at her shoulders. Her chin was sprinkled with red pimples, and there were some gouges on her cheeks where other pimples had been. Those didn’t show in her pictures.
The younger one, Cindy, wore her hair in a ponytail. Her front teeth stuck out some and stayed jabbed against her bottom lip when she wasn’t smiling. Maybe Aunt Stella saw us staring at Cindy’s teeth—I don’t know for sure, but I’m guessing she did—because she gave Cindy a frown, and Cindy pulled her top lip over her teeth, tucking them inside her mouth the best she could.
Daddy closed the lid on the food cooler and said he’d take it to the car. Ice cubes clanked as he hoisted it off of the table. For a minute, nobody said anything.
Ma cleared her throat. “Well, Stella, I’m afraid you’ve come at an inopportune time. We’re about to leave for town for the Fourth of July festivities.”
Aunt Stella, who had her car keys in her hand and was working the clasp on her purse—to drop them inside, no doubt—stopped. “Oh,” she said. “If you’re not working, you’re usually home, doing something or other,
so I figured you’d be here on a holiday.”
“We celebrate the Fourth every year, Stella.”
“Yes, well…” Aunt Stella fidgeted a bit. “I suppose, then…”
While Ma put clear wrapping over a lemon cake, Aunt Stella yammered a bit, telling how they’d gone to a play in St. Paul, and how Judy thought she’d like to get into drama. Her words moved like birds walk, in quick, little jerky spurts. Ma glanced up at Aunt Stella now and then as she filled a grocery bag with napkins and plastic silverware, and said, “Oh,” or, “That’s nice,” a few times, but she didn’t sound like she was listening.
I didn’t feel like there was anything more to see in my cousins, so I walked around them and went outside to wait for Aunt Verdella, Uncle Rudy, and the Malones.
I didn’t even have time to sit down before I spotted a splotch of turquoise through the cloud of dust coming down Peters Road. Even before they crossed the highway, I could see Winnalee’s hand waving out the window.
“Don’t open that door before we stop all the way, honey. Good heavens!” I heard Aunt Verdella shout as Uncle Rudy slowed the car to a stop.
In seconds, the air was filled with the sound of slamming doors and ha-ha-ing. I liked the way everybody sounded so happy.
“Oh, look at Button!” Aunt Verdella squealed. She came at me with her arms stretched out, her purse rocking from one arm. “Doesn’t she look cute?”
Aunt Verdella was wearing a nice cotton dress. She had her hair done too, and a bit of rouge and lipstick on. “Give Auntie her hug,” Aunt Verdella said.
“Whose white car is that, Button?” Aunt Verdella asked as she let go of me.
“Aunt Stella’s.”
“Oh! I didn’t know she was joinin’ us today.”
Daddy, who was busy carrying out the bag of paper and plastic stuff, balanced on another cooler, said, “She’s not.” And he grinned.
Freeda looked as pretty as the first day I’d met her, dressed up in a sleeveless yellow shift that fit her like a banana peel. Her hair was piled up on her head in big curls. She was wearing her rhinestone sunglasses, and she smelled like a bed of roses. “Hi there, princess,” she said to me. “Your hair is growing, kiddo. Before you know it, it will be down to your cute little butt.” I grinned when she said that.
“Look at me and Button!” Winnalee squealed, as she held her ma tight and ran to stand next to me, her shoulder and hip pressing tight against mine. “Now we really do look like twins, don’t we? We got the same shirts and the same skirt, and we even both got on the same color sandals. Hey, where’d you get that cool headband?”
“From my ma. She got one for you too. Come on!”
Uncle Rudy held the door open for us and gave us each a pat as we passed him. He smelled like that good-stink stuff men put on after they shave, and he was dressed up in new work pants and a button-up shirt. He looked real nice but for the black speckles on his teeth and the snuff lump on his bottom lip.
Everybody was talking at once when we got inside. “You must be Jewel’s sister Stella,” Freeda said, pulling her sunglasses off and looking at Aunt Stella through narrowed eyes.
“Yes, I am,” Aunt Stella said. She took her purse off of the table and slipped the strap up her arm. “Well, Jewel, I see you have plans, so we’ll take off. Thanks for the use of the bathroom.” She went to Ma and pecked her on the cheek. I smiled on the inside when I saw Aunt Stella standing next to my new ma, because my ma was the prettiest. I leaned over then and whispered into Winnalee’s ear, “Is my aunt Stella a gray person?” and she nodded. “I thought so,” I said.
Aunt Stella said to Ma, “We brought a bag of clothes for Button. Things the girls outgrew. I’ll have Cindy bring them in.” She gave me a peck on the cheek, then hurried out the door.
“I want to show you my dress quick before we leave. It’s finished,” Ma said to Freeda and Aunt Verdella, as soon as Aunt Stella and my cousins went outside. “Button, you go get those clothes,” Ma said, as Freeda and Aunt Verdella tagged behind her down the hall.
I’d barely gotten to the door when Cindy stepped inside. She handed me the grocery bag, then hurried back out the door. “Let’s see what’s in there,” Winnalee said, as she grabbed the bag out of my hand and set it on the floor. While Winnalee dug out one giant dress or shirt after another, I looked down the hall and wished Ma would hurry so we could go.
“Button, look!” Winnalee shouted. “Dancing costumes!” I turned to see two long, skinny costumes dangling from Winnalee’s hands by straps as skinny as shoestrings. “Aren’t they cool? One for each of us! I like the fur up at the top, do you?”
“They’re too big,” I said.
“Oh my! What do you have there?” Aunt Verdella asked.
Winnalee held up the costumes and ran to Aunt Verdella. “Can you fix them to fit us? Can you?”
“Of course I can, honey,” Aunt Verdella said. Me and Winnalee cheered.
“I wish they had dancing skirts on them, like real ballerinas,” I said. The stick-out little skirt is the best part. Winnalee gasped, “Hey! Hey! My pink slip! It’s big. Real big! Aunt Verdella, could you make two little skirts from it, for our dancing costumes? Could you?”
Aunt Verdella ha-ha-ed. “Of course I could!” And we both cheered.
Winnalee was so excited about those costumes, Marty Graw, and her new headband that Aunt Verdella had to put her headband on her head because she was hopping so much I couldn’t reach her head to do it. “Put the flower on the same side as mine,” I told her.
Finally Daddy stubbed out his cigarette and said, “Are we gonna go, or are we gonna sit here all day and talk about dresses?” He looked at Uncle Rudy and shook his head. “At this rate, there won’t be a beer left in all of Dauber by the time these women are ready to go.”
On the way out the door, Ma stopped Daddy by putting her hand on his arm. “Reece, thank you for saying what you did to Stella. I know you don’t like her, and that’s the reason you said it, but thank you, anyway.” I think Daddy was going to say something back, but Ma was already hurrying to the car.
We watched the parade first, and every time a clown or a man reached into his bag of candy, Winnalee ran out into the street, her mermaid hair flapping just like her jaw, and she waved both hands and screamed, “Throw some over here! Throw some over here!” And they did. Every time. We giggled as we ran to pick up the candy that pinged on the pavement, only half-hearing Aunt Verdella yell at us to back away from the floats.
The minute the parade was over, me and Winnalee wanted to hurry to the carnival, because just hearing the carnival music and seeing the top of the Ferris wheel out past the bridge was making our bellies excited, but we had to stop on our way to the car about a hundred times, because the grown-ups got stopped by this or that person to talk about dumb things like crops that needed rain and bad hearts and backs. At least three people told Ma right out that they didn’t recognize her at first and then went on and on about how good she looked, and Aunt Verdella too. “We can thank Freeda for our new looks,” Aunt Verdella said, and then whoever they were talking to had to yap to Freeda about their bad hair, or wide hips, or whatever. Freeda scooted right over to them then and started picking at their hair and touching their cheekbones and eyelids until their men got done talking about cows and the weather and hauled them away. Just before we got to the car, I heard Ma say, “Looks like Dauber’s about to experience a population boom!” and the three of them laughed and laughed.
As soon as we got to the park, Winnalee and I jumped out of the car, and Winnalee started running. “Hey! Get back here, you kids! We have to find a picnic spot first and eat!” Me and Winnalee groaned as we headed back to the car.
“Why can’t we go on the rides before we eat?” Winnalee begged.
“Jesus H. Christ, Winnalee,” Freeda said. “That carnival isn’t going anywhere. Everybody’s hungry. We’re gonna eat first.” Winnalee started to argue, and Ma flashed Freeda that kind of look that says, “Remember what
I told you?” and Freeda gave a little nod, sucked in a breath, then stared Winnalee right in the eye. Then, without even a bit of a smile on her face or a cussword on her lips, she said, “Winnalee. We’re gonna eat first.”
“I’m not even hungry! I’m going on the rides!”
Freeda made a pointy finger at Winnalee. “If you don’t want to eat, fine, but you won’t have any treats at the carnival either. Your choice. But whether you decide to eat or not, you’ll sit quietly and wait until the rest of us are done. Then we’ll go to the carnival.”
Winnalee blinked and hoisted her ma up higher. She opened her mouth to argue, but Freeda put her hand up. “It’s not up for discussion, Winnalee,” Freeda said, then she hurried to help grab things out of the trunk.
Winnalee did decide to eat but said she was only going to eat the good stuff. When Winnalee and I were done eating, Winnalee watched Uncle Rudy stab another piece of Aunt Verdella’s fried chicken, and her mouth got frowny. “Do we have to wait for everybody to get done eating?” she asked, crossing her arms.
“You better hope not, girls,” Uncle Rudy said, “because with food this good, I might just keep eating till I pop.” Winnalee groaned extra loud when he said that.
“Oh, he’s teasin’ you, girls,” Aunt Verdella said. “You eat a few more bites, then we’ll go on the rides.”
Uncle Rudy said Winnalee’s ma could sit with him under the shade tree while he took a nap and we went on the rides, so Winnalee set the urn down next to him. As we headed toward the rides, Daddy headed for the beer stand and Ma stepped on Aunt Verdella’s heel because she had her head cocked as she watched him go. Freeda grabbed Ma’s elbow. “Keep your eyes on where you’re goin’, Jewel Peters,” she said.
My stomach was a bit scared because I’d never rode on the big-people’s rides before, but scared or not, I was determined to ride them.
“Let’s go on that one!” Winnalee shouted, pointing to the ride that said Tilt-A-Whirl on the sign above the steps leading to it.