Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
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13
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Preview: LONGING FOR NORMAL
Longing for Normal - 1 Eliot
Longing for Normal - 2 Alli
Saucy and Bubba
A Hansel and Gretel Tale
By Darcy Pattison
In this modern-day Hansel and Gretel story, Saucy and Bubba struggle to get along with Krissy, their alcoholic stepmother. One freezing cold night, Krissy locks Saucy out of the house and Saucy must sleep in the barn. In a desperate move, Saucy and Bubba run away to their aunt’s house–except Aunt Vivian isn’t home. Trying to take care of Bubba for several days forces Saucy to take charge of her own life and accept a terrible sacrifice in order to find safety for herself. This is a simple story that weaves through the tangled threads of a family and builds to an ending full of hope.
MIMS HOUSE / LITTLE ROCK, AR
OTHER BOOKS BY DARCY PATTISON
The Journey of Oliver K. Woodman
Searching for Oliver K. Woodman
Wisdom, the Midway Albatross
Abayomi, the Brazilian Puma
11 Ways to Ruin a Photograph
19 Girls and Me
Prairie Storms
Desert Baths
The Girl, the Gypsy & the Gargoyle
Vagabonds
For Elleen,
who always kept me safe.
Copyright
Copyright © 2014 by Darcy Pattison.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written per-mission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Darcy Pattison
Mims House
1309 S. Broadway
Little Rock, AR 72202
www.mimshouse.com
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Saucy and Bubba / Darcy Pattison
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-62944-009-5
Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-62944-008-8
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-62944-010-1
Library of Congress Control Number: 2013920542
Lexile: 590L
1
Gingerbread Days
Saucy Dillard loved gingerbread days.
While Krissy, her stepmother, pulled out the mixing bowl, eggs, powdered sugar and vanilla, Saucy pulled out the tins of candy used to decorate the gingerbread. Krissy might not use every type of candy this month, but she always liked them out and lined up, ready, just in case. Saucy rolled the names of the candies around in her mouth, enjoying the words almost as much as she enjoyed eating the candy. The word “licorice” lingered like the taste lingered: Lick-or-ishhhh. The word “marshmallow” felt squishy in her mouth: maaarsh-melll-looow. “Gumdrop” dropped and stopped. The best candy, though, was the silver dragees. Opening a small red can, she rolled the tiny silver balls around and around while whispering: silver dragees, silver dragees, I'll fly away on a silver trapeze, silver dragees, silver dragees.
The early morning fall sunlight poured in through the kitchen windows of the ranch house. The sun always shone on gingerbread days. It had no choice.
The bright light washed out her brother's hair to a white blond. Bubba lined up his ruler with the side of a cookie they had baked the day before. "Rectangle, seven inches by eight inches. Hey, Saucy, I want to know the area of this cookie. What's 7 times 8?" He grinned and waggled the ruler at her.
At seven, Bubba already knew the multiplication tables that eleven-almost-twelve-year-old Saucy was still struggling with. But he hated the words that Saucy loved.
Saucy said, "7 horizontal squares by 8 vertical squares? That's a small crossword puzzle."
Bubba groaned and went back to his calculator.
The day was perfect: Bubba was happy with his math problems, Krissy was happy with her gingerbread problems, and Saucy was happy that they were happy.
Krissy was singing to herself. Gingerbread days were filled with music, too. Once a month, Krissy made a gingerbread house and took it into town to sell to the bakery for $200. The bakery displayed it in their picture window for a month, and then donated it to a day care. Each month, Krissy checked out a stack of architecture books and pored over them. She marked pages of interesting buildings, flipping back and forth, trying to decide which ones she could make from gingerbread. Finally, she chose just one and made a plasticine model to test the idea. Last month, the design was modeled after the main buildings of a California Mission: the adobe colored gingerbread had been just right. In the last eight months, she had made a log cabin, a chapel, a barn, a Victorian house, a country store, the capitol of New Mexico, and a castle.
This month, Krissy hadn’t checked out any books; instead, she took pictures of their ranch house and barn and chicken house and stared at them for a week before making the model. It showed a two-story house with a wrap-around porch, a chimney for the fireplace in the living room, and lots of windows. Krissy had even bought plastic chickens for the chicken house.
“They don’t look like my bantams,” Krissy said. “But it’s all I could find.”
And there were horses for the barn.
“I know we don’t have any horses,” Krissy said, “but your Daddy wants some. So, here they are.”
The only thing she left out was the shed where Daddy parked the big truck.
Krissy’s model looked like a perfect ranch for a perfect family.
As she sang, Krissy broke an egg, tipping the yolk back and forth between broken halves of the shell, and letting the egg white fall into the bowl. Her slim shoulders hunched forward. In all, she separated a dozen egg whites from their yolks. She was making a huge batch of royal icing to use as gingerbread glue.
Saucy took a deep breath: the spicy gingerbread smell used to mean Christmas, but now, it meant Krissy when she was happy.
"Bubba, lay out the cookies in order. Saucy, get out the mixer."
Krissy's blond hair was pulled back with a rubber band, leaving her gingerbread-day smile to light up her slender face. She was as willowy and graceful as a fashion model.
For a moment, Saucy watched Krissy’s sleek face. Would it smile at her today? Saucy wanted to do everything just right, so Krissy would tell her, “Good job.”
Saucy set down the silver dragees can and dropped to the floor cross-legged beside the cabinet. Krissy liked to use the big stand-alone mixer to whip the egg whites. Opening the cabinet door, Saucy tugged the mixer to the front of the shelf. A couple plastic bowls in back fell down, so she reached back to restack them.
And there, in the back of the shelf, she saw a bottle. She froze.
She glanced up. Krissy and Bubba were covering a wooden board with brown paper as a base for constructing the gingerbread house.
Saucy leaned forward. It was a dark bottle of liquor. Rum. Saucy's stomach tightened. It was a new bottle. If it was open, she would sneak back later and upside down it in
the sink. Krissy wouldn’t remember how much had been left from last time. But Saucy had never done that to a full, unopened bottle.
"Where's that mixer?" Krissy’s voice was balanced on the edge of anger.
Saucy jumped up, trying not to shake, and heaved the mixer to the counter. The counter- tops were soapstone, old black stone, slick and hard. The mixer landed with a satisfying thump.
With a grunt, Krissy said, “Set it up for me. Be sure to turn off the coffee maker first.” And she turned her attention back to the bowl of egg whites, and to measuring vanilla and powdered sugar.
Saucy leaned over the counter and unplugged the coffee maker. Their house needed to be re-wired and too many appliances on at once would flip the circuit breaker. Daddy was gone for the day, anyway, and he was the only one who drank coffee.
Krissy brought the bowl to the mixer, popped in the beaters and lowered them. Whirr! The motor buzzed, whipping air into the clear egg whites, turning them into white foam. Then, she started slowly adding the powdered sugar.
With the red tin in her lap, Saucy settled on the stool to keep watch.
The sun still shone. Bubba was still measuring patterns and cookies. Krissy was still smiling, and now she broke into a lively melody. The cheerful words of a popular country song filled the kitchen. But the day was ruined. It might seem like a peaceful, sunny day, but that was a lie. A Krissy lie. Saucy's stomach hurt and she made sure that she kept her face away from Krissy and Bubba.
After the last time she got drunk, Krissy had promised Daddy she wouldn't drink any more. She had promised. And Daddy had gulped it down.
"Daddy," she whispered now, “she lied.”
Krissy stopped the mixer and glanced at Saucy. "You say something?"
Saucy shook her head. She let the tin can rest in her lap while she picked up the rubber spatula and held it out. Krissy took the spatula and scraped down the sides of the bowl.
The mixer whirred. Saucy gripped the can again and gently sent the silver dragees circling around it again.
On gingerbread days, when Krissy's face glowed with excitement, Saucy could almost understand why Daddy liked Krissy. The worst thing was that sometimes Saucy liked Krissy, too. But Saucy had to remind herself that tonight or tomorrow, she might have to be very, very careful around Krissy. When Krissy drank, she was unpredictable. Saucy sat a bit straighter. OK. She would tell Daddy about the rum when he came home later.
"Get me the decorating bags and tips." Krissy started another song. She could sing all day and never repeat a tune.
Saucy set down the dragees, pulled the plastic bags and silver tips from the drawer, and set them on the counter. Krissy fitted the plain tip into the first bag and spooned icing into it. She rolled up the end of the bag and laid it down, ready to use. She repeated this with several other bags with specially shaped tips. Krissy liked to have everything ready before she started constructing a house.
Bubba stuck a finger into the icing and scooped up a bit.
Saucy winced. Behind Krissy’s back, Saucy shook her head at Bubba and mouthed the word, "No!"
But Krissy smiled at Bubba indulgently. "Taste good?"
Krissy wasn’t mad? With relief, Saucy scooped icing into her own mouth. Sweetness melted on her tongue.
Frowning slightly, Krissy warned, "Just one bite. I want to be sure I have enough to decorate."
"Yes, ma'am." Saucy nodded solemnly. Bubba would get as many bites as he wanted, but she had better stop. "Bubba can have the rest of my tastes anyway. The only thing worse than peanut butter on the roof of your mouth is gingerbread glue."
Krissy grinned. She pressed her lips together like they were glued shut and tried to talk, while bouncing her head back and forth in front of Bubba. He giggled. They both took another taste of icing and pretended to have glued-together-mouths, while Saucy sat on her stool and smiled, too, remembering why she loved gingerbread days.
The sunshine was heating up the kitchen. Maybe it would be a good day building the gingerbread ranch house after all. She wondered: could gingerbread glue hold a family together? She hoped so.
Saucy pulled the lid off the red tin and swirled the silver balls. Wistful now, she chanted under her breath: silver dragees, silver dragees, I'll fly away on a silver trapeze, silver dragees, silver dragees.
2
The Bakery
“Krissy! I’m home!”
Before the back screen slammed, Saucy was racing down the hallway. It had been a long day waiting for Daddy to come home. Since he had taken the job at the gas station, he usually stayed home on Saturday. She didn’t know where he’d been all day.
“Daddy!” she called. She leapt into his arms and leaned on his chest.
He laughed, a big, long, deep laugh. He smoothed the dark hair from her face, kissed her forehead and set her down. “Is that gingerbread house ready?” He started for the kitchen. “We’ll all go to town to deliver it.”
“Daddy, I want to tell you–”
But Daddy was already halfway to the kitchen. Saucy sighed. She’d have to talk to him later about the rum. Three ladybugs crawled on the outside of the screen door. She flipped the screen and watched them fly away across their ranch.
At least Daddy was staying home now and not going out in the big rig. Their ranch was spread out in a flat valley between two ridges of the Jemez Mountains. Where they irrigated, a couple fields were still bright green with forage grasses. Mostly, the land was brown or tan or sage green. A clump of piñon trees huddled near the barn.
Daddy had spent the last six months working on the house. Things like painting the porch and patching the roof. The only thing left was to have the house rewired, but that cost too much right now. After that, he started working on the barn and other outbuildings. They were a sturdy weathered gray. Daddy didn’t paint them, but he did replace rotten wood, broken hinges and cracked windows. The heavy doors of the largest shed were shut and Saucy wanted them to stay that way. Daddy’s rig–the eighteen-wheeler–needed to stay put. Parked beside the house was the only truck Daddy needed right now–his green pickup which he drove around town.
Saucy followed Daddy back to the kitchen. Krissy looked up from the gingerbread house. Her face was flushed from the hot kitchen, and she had icing on her cheek. Bubba sat beside her pointing out a spot where she needed a bit more window trim. He smiled a big red smile at Daddy. On gingerbread days, his teeth were always red from the red hots.
Krissy walked around the gingerbread house, inspecting it uncertainly. Her ponytail tipped from side to side as she turned her head back and forth. “What do you think?”
Daddy touched a plastic stallion in the barnyard, then picked up a filly and set it just inside the barn. With a grin, Krissy reached into a paper bag and handed him two more horses.
He added them to the barn and gave a low whistle. “Just about perfect.”
“Really?” Krissy’s face lit up.
Daddy draped an arm across her shoulder. “Absolutely perfect.”
Krissy stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Right. OK. Let me change clothes, and we’ll take this to town.”
She skipped upstairs while Daddy pushed Bubba to the bathroom to brush his teeth.
A few minutes later, Krissy had on clean jeans and a jeans jacket, and Bubba had pink teeth instead of red. They loaded the gingerbread house into the back of Krissy’s van. It was an old, old, VW van that Krissy had bought after high school when that was all she could afford. Daddy had kept it running the last year by working on it all the time. By now, he said, he’d just about rebuilt the thing, and they might as well keep it a while longer.
With Saucy and Bubba buckled into the back seats they were off to town.
The bakery’s front window looked as empty as their barn stalls back home. The ten-foot window was right on First Street, beside the city offices, across the street from the barber and the post office. Everyone in town had to pass by this building in the course of a month. When Mr. Berkeley started the bakery
eighteen months ago, business was slow. Krissy had suggested the gingerbread-house-of-the-month to liven things up. She didn’t tell Mr. Berkeley she’d only made one gingerbread house before and that had been when she was fourteen. She just talked him into trying one month.
Mr. Berkeley said business perked up right away. The gingerbread houses were so detailed, people had to go into the store for a closer look. And then, just to be polite, they bought a doughnut or a gingerbread cookie. And once they sampled the bakery’s wares, they came back for more. Since that first time, he’d ordered a new gingerbread house each month.
Saucy ran to hold open the door, while Daddy and Krissy carefully lifted the board out of the back of the van. Bubba darted inside and yelled, “Mr. Berkeley! We’ve brought the gingerbread house.”
Daddy and Krissy baby-stepped up onto the sidewalk and into the bakery. The board wasn’t very heavy, but Krissy’s face was always pinched and worried looking until the house was safe in the bakery window. Saucy stood rigidly and held her breath until they edged past her, into the dark interior. She let the door close behind them and went to stand in front of the window.
A man came out of the barbershop and saw her. “Got the new one done?” he yelled.
Saucy nodded.
He opened the barbershop door and yelled inside, “The new gingerbread house is here.”
He crossed the street to stand beside her and watch as Daddy and Krissy positioned the gingerbread ranch house near the front of the window. Not too near, though.
“Got to entice those customers to come inside,” Mr. Berkeley always said.
The man whistled. “It’s a purty one, this time.” He opened the bakery door and Saucy saw him leaning over the ranch house studying the barn and the chicken house. A few minutes later, he came out with a bag that smelled like pumpkin spice—the muffin flavor of the month—and strolled away to his car. Word would be around town by tomorrow that there was a new gingerbread house. Monday morning would be a busy day for Mr. Berkeley.
Inside, Mr. Berkeley wiped his hands on his white apron and set pumpkins and fall flowers around the ranch house. Saucy sighed. It was a perfect house.
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