News of the Spirit

by Lee Smith

  Paula looks at him. He’s so attractive, Drew, those Labrador eyes, that strong chin. He’s so perfect. Paula looks at him and her eyes fill with tears. At their feet, Muddy Waters is having a running dream; he makes snuffly noises and jerks his feet in his sleep.

  “Let’s go now,” Drew says. “Let’s go home.”

  But Paula says, “No. I want to go back to the party. Come on, just for a while. Mama just got here.”

  “Your mama is a piece of work,” Drew says, and Paula laughs. “I told you,” she says, and they walk back through the weeds to the cinder-block duplex, hand in hand.

  But Paula is thinking about the little dark-skinned baby in María’s stomach. Why shouldn’t Johnny get to have a girlfriend? Why shouldn’t Johnny get to have a baby? Why shouldn’t Johnny get to have something of his own for once? Inside, the party is getting wild. Lulu is dancing with Dallas, Corinne is dancing with Bo, although Bo mostly just stands there while Corinne dances around him. He looks like he’s in a trance. Norell looms in the doorway smiling, watching Corinne. He adores her, Paula can tell. Then that song is finished and Corinne sails over to hug Norell and say in a stage whisper to everybody, “Well, Norell is not perfect. He needs a penis reduction.” This joke cracks Drew up.

  “Mama!” Paula says. She goes in the kitchen and pours a paper cup full of vodka and drinks it straight down while Drew isn’t there to see. Dallas comes in and pushes her against the kitchen wall. “You’re hot, aren’t you?” he says. “You hot little thing.” But Paula ducks under his arm and goes back into the other room, where it’s a slow dance and Lulu is dancing with Pete, Johnny with María. Actually, Johnny and María aren’t dancing much, they are all wrapped up around each other, it’s like the whole rest of the world has fallen away from them. Johnny’s eyes are closed and his mouth is pressed into María’s thick black hair. You can’t see her face.

  Corinne comes over and hugs Paula. Corinne’s crying. “Look at that,” she says. “Just look at that. Aren’t they sweet? Isn’t it wonderful?”

  As soon as her mother says this, Paula is not so sure.

  “You know, I always believed Johnny would turn over a new leaf one day,” Corinne goes on. “It all goes to show you, if you just keep believing and hoping and praying, everything will come out all right in the end.” Paula turns to look at her. Corinne’s red bottom lip is quivering. She is utterly sincere. Paula remembers that Corinne has become a churchgoer, that Corinne and Norell go to church. His church, Paula guesses, looking at him. Some old church he’s attended for thirty years, probably Baptist. Norell stands just outside the door now, talking to Drew about cars. Paula watches Johnny dancing with María, the two of them like a single being, they move to the music in time. Suddenly Paula is filled with an old awful longing, that emptiness she can’t name.

  “You know what I believe?” Corinne says brightly at her elbow. “Whatever should happen, will happen!” Corinne goes over to stand beside Norell.

  Paula goes back in the kitchen for another drink. But after this one, things get too confusing, and she wouldn’t remember much at all about the rest of the party if Drew hadn’t taken those pictures.

  There will be one of her and Corinne hugging each other around the waist, all smiles. Corinne looks like a Kewpie doll. Paula looks drunk.

  There will be one of Corinne and Norell, looking like solid senior citizens, waving good-bye from Norell’s big white Lincoln Town Car as they leave. There will be one of Pete passed out in a lawn chair. There will be one of Johnny and María standing close together on the front stoop holding hands and staring solemnly into the camera, both of them wide-eyed, as if they are looking straight into the unimaginable future. There will be one of Johnny by himself with his hands clasped behind his back, like he’s in a police lineup. There will be one of Lulu, Paula, and Lena standing in the kitchen, deep in conversation.

  Lena! When she comes in the front door carrying a foil-covered tray of barbecue, Paula can’t quite place her. She’s a big redheaded woman wearing a white uniform. Is she a nurse? Then Lena says, “Hey, sugar,” to Paula, and then Paula recognizes her. Nobody else calls Paula “sugar.” Paula kind of likes it.

  “Hi, Corinne,” Lena says to Paula’s mother, then introduces herself to Lulu. “Luther couldn’t make it, we’re catering a Kiwanis cookout in Cary, five hundred people, you can imagine. But he wanted me to bring this over for him. He sends his best,” Lena says. “Now where the hell can I put this down?” She’s still holding the heavy platter.

  Lulu and Corinne spring into action, clearing a space on the tiny counter, Lulu with her cigarette hanging out the side of her mouth. Paula is enjoying the passive smoke, in fact she’s enjoying this whole party. This is a terrific party! Lena pulls the tinfoil off the top of the tray, and Paula almost faints, it smells so good. Of course it does, it’s famous: Luther’s Famous Barbecue. Paula picks up a chunk of barbecue and eats it ravenously. It’s delicious. She glances out the window and is surprised to see that it’s getting dark. They’ve been here all afternoon. Time flies when you’re having fun. Mama used to say this.

  But Paula shouldn’t make fun of Corinne, not even in her mind. Corinne means well, always did. And Corinne does love Paula, always has, Paula knows this. Of course a mother worries more over the one who’s the weakest, the one who has the most trouble. But of course Corinne didn’t “spoil” Johnny, as their dad used to accuse her of doing. Paula eats more barbecue. Dad just couldn’t understand. He always thought Johnny should “shape up.” Dad blamed himself as well as Corinne for Johnny’s failure to do this. Dad just had to believe in blame, in fault. Now Paula wonders which is worse, which is more awful to believe in, fault or chance? Which is scarier to consider? Finally, Corinne has refused to believe in either one. She likes to look on the bright side, as she says. Tears come to Paula’s eyes. She loves her mother’s dumb little red shoes.

  “Plates!” Lena calls, and Lulu says wait a minute, she’ll go get some. Lulu disappears out the back door. Paula wishes she lived here, too, with Johnny and María and Pete and Lulu and Bo, it’s like a big happy family. Everybody taking care of everybody else. Lulu comes back with some paper plates with Santa Claus on them.

  “Come and get it!” she yells.

  Paula moves away from the barbecue as everybody else crowds into the kitchen. She’s already stuffed. Norell and Pete and Bo and Drew pile up heaping plates—barbecue, hush puppies, slaw. They eat standing up.

  “I get so sick of barbecue!” Lena says. “I mean, it gets old, you know what I mean? No thanks, hon. Thanks anyway,” Lena says as Lulu hands her a plate. “I got a chick filet at McDonald’s on the way out here.” Lena lights a cigarette. Paula finishes off somebody’s abandoned drink. Bourbon. There’s a lot to be said for bourbon. Drew and Pete are having a serious conversation about the plight of migrant workers. Johnny and María are feeding each other bits of food with their fingers, off a single plate. Corinne and Lena are talking about issues of health in the friendliest manner you can think of. Paula finds this amazing, considering the circumstances. Or maybe it’s not, considering her mother. “I may have to have an operation,” her mother is saying. “I have these very close veins? See right here, on the inside of my thigh?” Lena bends down to look.

  Paula goes back through the house to the bathroom, walking carefully. You have to watch out how you put your feet. The bathroom sobers her up, though. It’s a mess, looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in weeks. María really is a child, Paula realizes. Paula looks under the sink and finds an old can of Comet, which has solidified. She bangs it against the sink to loosen it, then sprinkles some in the sink. With a ragged gray washcloth, she scrubs the sink, then the tub, then finally the toilet. Then the bathroom door opens and Dallas comes in, his dark eyes wide.

  “Hey, hey, hey!” he says, in the act of unzipping his fly.

  Before Paula can think, he closes the door behind him and comes toward her, all in one motion. He takes the can of Comet from her an
d sets it on the sink and kisses her, hard but somehow slow, as if this kiss is inevitable and perfectly natural, as if they’ve got all the time in the world. Paula kisses him back. His mouth tastes like tobacco, like bourbon—wild and sweet.

  “Paula? Paula, are you in there?” Drew is banging on the door, but Paula doesn’t do a thing. She wants Dallas to put his hand on her breast, she wants to feel him get hard against her leg.

  Drew pushes the door open. He looks at them and grabs her arm. “Paula, we’re leaving now,” he says.

  “Let go of me!” Paula can hardly breathe.

  Drew speaks very carefully, as if to a child. “We have to go now,” he says. “I’m going now to put the dog in the car. Then we’ll go,” he says, pulling her along.

  “Okay,” Paula says.

  “Later,” Dallas says, pinching her butt. But it’s just friendly, it doesn’t mean anything, just as the kiss didn’t mean anything to him, either. Dallas will come on to anybody, Paula realizes. It’s what he does.

  “Later,” Paula throws back over her shoulder.

  In the living room, Johnny is dancing alone, eyes closed. María sits on the couch beside Corinne, who is trying to tell her something. Corinne apparently feels that the way to communicate with somebody who speaks only Spanish when you don’t speak Spanish is to use plenty of gestures and move your mouth a lot. “When eez the baby due?” Corinne asks María, who smiles and shrugs. Paula starts laughing. Johnny turns in the middle of the floor. Paula goes over to him and taps him on the shoulder.

  “Roger,” she says, “can I have this dance?” He opens his eyes and grins at her. He takes her in his arms and guides her across the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, Paula sees Drew in the doorway, holding Muddy Waters on a tight leash. Johnny dips her. “Have you got a minute?” Johnny says into her ear. “I want to show you something.”

  “Where is it?” Paula looks back at the door, but now Drew is engaged in conversation with Norell, who is patting Muddy Waters.

  “Out back in my workshop,” Johnny says. “It’ll only take a minute.”

  “He can’t have that!” Drew is saying to Norell, who is feeding Muddy Waters some barbecue. “He’s not allowed to eat that!” Muddy Waters loves the barbecue.

  “Come on.” Johnny pulls on Paula’s arm.

  But Paula hesitates, nervous about Drew. It occurs to her that he might really leave her, that nobody could blame him if he did. Johnny twirls her around and around and Paula closes her eyes and loses herself in the dance and when she opens her eyes she sees Drew looking at her hard in a new way, as if they have just met. “In a minute,” she tells Johnny, still watching Drew, and then she just can’t believe it when Drew winks at her and puts his own plate down on the floor to give Muddy Waters some more barbecue. “Okay,” Paula says. She and Johnny go through the kitchen and out the back door. Pete has passed out on the lawn chair. The dogs in the pen start barking. “How far is it?” Paula asks.

  “It’s not far. It’s here.” Johnny opens a door, pulls a hanging light cord, and leads her inside the shed.

  “Oh, Johnny.” This is all she can say. The slanted roof of the shed slopes up to a height well above Johnny’s head on the far wall, where plywood has been painted white and then entirely covered by tiny, tiny writing and drawings. Paula steps closer. She sees clocks, lots of clocks, but the numbers are all different from those on real clocks. Beautiful little birds fly through the sentences. Paula squints to read. One little sentence says, The sons of the spirit wear rainbow armor. Paula closes her eyes. “Well?” Johnny says at her elbow. “Whaddaya think?” Paula thinks he has stopped taking his medicine. She thinks it is happening again. “See, this is a new kind of book,” Johnny says. Paula opens her eyes and reads, They ride the horses of dawn. “I think it’s beautiful,” she says.

  Then Lulu is at the door. “Honey, your boyfriend wants you in the worst possible way,” she says to Paula. “Far out, huh?” Lulu indicates the shed wall. Paula notices the blank space at the lower right. Johnny hasn’t finished it yet. He’s still working on it.

  “Far out,” Paula repeats.

  Paula and Johnny walk back through the weeds arm in arm. The party is breaking up. Corinne and Norell have already left—the big white car is gone. Bo stands silhouetted in the yellow light of the doorway, motionless as a tree. “Honey?” Lulu says, poking Pete. Dallas rides his motorcycle off down the driveway in a red roar, going God knows where. Paula can still taste his kiss. Drew is already in the Volvo, she sees, and Muddy Waters is already in the back. In a few minutes Drew will drive her away from here, and in a few months they will get married, and sometime after that they will have a baby. Paula sees all this written out in tiny sentences on a big wall in her mind. A little wind comes up and the trees blow and the weeds swirl around her feet. It’s going to storm. It will be nice to ride home in the rain with Drew, Paula likes how the windshield wipers go in the rain, she’ll hold his hand all the way. Maybe she’ll fix him some scrambled eggs when they get home. Johnny hugs her. “Thanks for coming to my party,” he says. “I wanted you to come.” They are old, old souls, Roger and Darling. They know each other. “Listen,” Paula says sincerely, “it was a great party. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” Then the first big drops of rain hit her face, and she runs for the car just as the thunder cracks and lightning pierces the sky like an arrow.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  LEE SMITH is the author of fifteen works of fiction, including Oral History, Fair and Tender Ladies, and her recent Mrs. Darcy and the Blue-Eyed Stranger. She has received many awards, including the North Carolina Award for Literature and an Academy Award in Literature from the American Academy of Arts and Letters; her novel The Last Girls was a New York Times bestseller as well as winner of the Southern Book Critics Circle Award. She lives in North Carolina.