Mr. Ball leaned on the counter with both elbows and picked up the wishbone. It was the first time I had seen him since the funeral. Dark half-circles sat below his deep-set eyes. “Why, thank you, Bones. I know Speed would have enjoyed this.” He continued to look at the bone as if it were speaking to him. Then he said, “Bones, let’s me and you take it over and give it to his mama.”
I followed Mr. Ball to the little room where Miss Evelyn spent most of her time when she was in the store.
A long, thin lightbulb attached to the top of the ceiling bathed the small room in a harsh glare. On one side sat a desk stacked with papers, a bulky adding machine, and a typewriter. On the opposite side a tall rectangular filing cabinet stood like a tin soldier.
When we entered the room, Miss Evelyn swiveled around on her chair, a look of surprise on her face. Mr. Ball walked over and held the wishbone out to her. “Evelyn, little Bones here made this for Speed, as a gift. And now she wants to give it to you and me. Wasn’t that thoughtful?”
Miss Evelyn cautiously reached for the wishbone, as though it might be a hot coal. I noticed her face had the same tired look as Mama’s when Nolay was in jail, only more so. She held the little bone in her hand and ran her fingers across the blue ribbon. I saw her eyes begin to glisten.
I looked up at Mr. Ball, but his face was blank as a biscuit. I turned back to Miss Evelyn. “I sure am sorry if I made you sad. I just thought … well, I’m not sure what, but I guess I thought you might like it.”
Miss Evelyn blinked, as if seeing me for the first time. She said, “Why, Bones, you haven’t made me sad at all. This is a lovely gift, and I appreciate you bringing it to us. I know Speed would have loved it.”
“Yes, ma’am, I think Mr. Speed would have liked it too. He used to talk to me a lot about how to make your wishes come true. I figured we weren’t going to break it apart, we were just going to use it to make wishes on. He always had the wisest things to say. I think of him pretty much every day.”
“I’m sure you do, Bones,” Miss Evelyn said softly. “Of course you do, just like we do.” She looked up at me, a thin smile on her lips. “Bones, I think I need a little break from work. If you have time, would you like to come home with me? I have something I want to share with you.”
“To your home?”
“Why, yes, it’s just round back.”
“Yes, ma’am, I know. I think I have time to do that.”
The Ball house was located behind the Last Chance. It was a large white house, with a front porch and windows all around. An even whiter picket fence stood guard around the entire property. I could see the front of the house when I passed by on U.S. 1 and the side of it when I turned up the county road and headed home, but that was all I had ever seen.
Miss Evelyn straightened up some papers on her desk, swiveled around, and stood up. Her rusty-brown hair was swirled on top of her head, and she stood a full bun taller than Mr. Ball. She draped her arm around my shoulders. The two of us walked out of her little office room, past Mr. Ball, through familiar aisles packed with fishing and hunting supplies. There was a door with a sign painted above it in black letters: Private No Entry. She pushed the door open and we stepped out onto a narrow sidewalk that ran along the white picket fence.
We passed through a gate and followed a line of square stepping-stones to a set of stairs. Miss Evelyn walked up them and opened the screen door for me. “This is actually the back door to our kitchen, but coming from the store, it’s easier to enter this way.”
I was dazzled by the brightness. The floor, as well as the countertop, was covered in lemon-yellow linoleum. On one side of the counter stood a white enamel stove; on the other side, past a huge double sink, was a white enamel refrigerator. Cabinets with glass doors lined the walls. In the middle of the room was a table covered with a white tablecloth with embroidered yellow flowers.
She led me through the kitchen, down a small hallway, and out into the living room. A large brown rug edged with green flowers and twisted vines sat on top of a glossy wooden floor. Curtains with the same design as the rug hung at the front window.
A small table with a radio on top sat between two overstuffed chairs facing a matching couch. A larger table sat in front of the couch. Framed pictures nearly covered the walls, and hanging above the fireplace mantel was a huge mirror with gold edges. Across the room, by the front door, stood a magnificent black piano. On top of the piano was a photograph of a young soldier, a small wooden box, and, in a glass case, the triangular flag.
I stopped in the doorway. Miss Evelyn allowed me to stand and drink in the strange beauty of this room. She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Bones, have you ever played a piano?”
“Piano? No, ma’am, I never have. Do you play?”
“Yes, I do. Actually, when I was younger I went to college and studied music in hopes of one day becoming a music teacher. But sometimes life has a way of leading us down roads we never knew existed.”
I pointed toward the photograph on the piano. “Is that Mr. Speed?”
“Why, yes, it is. Would you like a closer look?”
We crossed the glossy floor and stood in front of the piano. Miss Evelyn stood tall and elegant, like women I had seen in movies. She placed my wishbone between the photograph and the small wooden box. When I looked closer, I saw that the two medals that had been pinned to Mr. Speed’s uniform were sitting in the little box.
Miss Evelyn picked up the photograph and held it out to me. “He was such a handsome young man, and so proud to march off to fight for his country.”
I pointed to the small wooden box. “What are those medals, Miss Evelyn?”
She replaced the photograph and picked up the box. “This one is a Purple Heart, for when he was wounded in battle. And this one is a Silver Star. He was awarded this for bravery under enemy fire.”
“Bravery under enemy fire … you mean he was a war hero? Like John Wayne?”
Miss Evelyn looked at me and smiled. “Oh yes, Aaron was a hero. He saved a lot of people’s lives by sacrificing his own.”
“Aaron?”
“Yes, that was his name, although most people called him Speed.” As the memory settled in, a smile spread across her face. “As a young boy, he could run like the wind.”
“I have heard the story about how fast he could run, but I never knew Aaron was his name. I never knew he was a real war hero.”
“Oh, Bones, he would blush if he heard you say that.”
Miss Evelyn’s hand drifted absently to the piano, and she lifted the lid. Like rows of white teeth, the keys grinned up at us. As her slender fingers walked across the keys, the sound reached out and surrounded me like bees kissing flowers in the springtime. She turned to me and said, “Bones, would you like a cup of tea?”
“A cup of hot tea? I ain’t never—I mean, I have never had hot tea.”
“Well, let’s go to the kitchen and fix a lovely pot of tea. When I was a little girl growing up in New York, my mother and I shared many lovely tea parties together.”
I followed Miss Evelyn back into her lemon-yellow kitchen. She stopped by the table and said, “Bones, have a seat while I make us a pot of tea.”
I sat down and watched as she put a kettle of water on the stove and placed two delicate white cups on the table. I felt like I was at the movies. After she filled our cups with tea, she sat down across from me and said, “Bones, I am so glad you stopped by. This brings back some very fond memories.”
I watched real close as Miss Evelyn gently held her cup handle between two fingers. I tried to copy her just right.
“Yes, ma’am, I am too. And, Miss Evelyn, you said you grew up in New York. Were you born there?”
“Why, yes, Bones, you didn’t know that?”
“No, ma’am. But if you’re from New York, that would make you a Yankee, and that would make Mr. Speed half a Yankee.” Once the words were out of my mouth I wanted to grab them and stuff them back in. “Sorry, Miss Evelyn, I didn’
t mean for it to sound like that.”
Miss Evelyn closed her eyes and laughed out loud. When she opened them again, I noticed they were the same soft brown sprinkled with gold flakes as Mr. Speed’s. She placed a hand on my arm and said, “Thank you, Bones, I haven’t laughed since … well, I haven’t laughed in a while, and it certainly feels good to know that I still can.”
“If you’re from New York, Miss Evelyn, how did you get here?”
“One winter, on a whim, a friend and I decided to come to sunny Florida for a week’s vacation. Our car broke down along the highway, not far from here, and Mr. Ball came to our rescue. He was young and handsome and had a voice as sweet as honey. I guess you could say I was smitten by his country charm.”
“Did you just stay here and never go back to New York again?”
“Oh no, it took Mr. Ball a full year to convince me to move to this wild land. Being raised in the city, I was scared to death of the bugs and snakes and sounds of the night. But after I moved here, I was quickly overwhelmed by this land’s beauty and magic, and most of all, its lovely people.” She looked at me with a twinkle in her eye. “And although I am a Yankee, these generous inhabitants accepted and welcomed me into their midst.”
I had never heard anyone speak the way Miss Evelyn did, so elegant-like, except in movies.
After we finished our cup of tea, Miss Evelyn asked if I would like to see Mr. Speed’s room. She stood up and led me into one of the bedrooms. The room smelled familiar, almost like the inside of Mama’s cedar chest. A four-poster single bed sat in the middle of the room. Two sides of the walls were lined, from floor to ceiling, with shelves overflowing with books.
Miss Evelyn sat on the edge of the bed and patted a place next to her. A long dark brown dresser stood across from the bed. On top of the dresser were a wooden car, a yo-yo, a pocketknife, and, perched at the end, the green baseball cap that me and Little Man had given Mr. Speed last Christmas.
I looked around at the volumes of books. “The only time I’ve ever seen this many books in one place was in the school library. Mr. Speed sure must have loved to read.”
“He was nearly born with a book in his hand. I do believe he read something every day of his life. Of course, after his injury, he couldn’t keep his focus on the words, so his father and I read to him.”
We sat for a few moments in silence, each of us absorbed in our own thoughts of Mr. Speed. Then Miss Evelyn continued. “Before he went away, he told us when he came back from the war, he was going to go to college and become a teacher. He said he didn’t want to follow in his daddy’s footsteps and run the Last Chance. He wanted to be a schoolteacher and teach children about the wonders of the world.”
“He wanted to be a teacher?”
“That was his dream.”
“Miss Evelyn, you know what? I think his dream came true. Every time I talked with Mr. Speed I learned something new, and Little Man says the same thing. I do believe he really was a teacher.”
Miss Evelyn bit down on her lip. “Thank you, Bones. It means so much for me to hear that. Aaron loved his visits with you and Little Man.” She pointed to a row of books. “You see those? They are all about the history and nature of Florida. Nearly every night, his father or I would read him something about Florida so he could share it with you.”
“Really? He would study on things so he could share them with me?”
“Oh yes, Bones, he so looked forward to your visits. You were very special to him.”
“I didn’t know that. If I had known that, I would have come to visit him more.”
“You did just fine. He could remember all the details about Florida that we read to him, but he had a difficult time with other information. At times it was very frustrating for him.”
“Yes, ma’am, sometimes I had to listen real hard to what he was telling me. But he knew just about everything there was to know about Florida. I learned so much from him. And he was just a pure comfort to be around.”
Miss Evelyn smoothed the front of her skirt with both hands and slowly stood up. “I should get back to the store soon. Mr. Ball will be wondering if we disappeared.”
She stepped up to the brown dresser and picked up a small framed photograph. It was of a young soldier in uniform, standing straight and proud. “Aaron would have so loved your wishbone gift. I know he would have wanted you to have this in return.” She handed me the photograph. “Bones, this is from Aaron … Mr. Speed, to you. It was taken just before he got on the ship to leave.”
I stood up. “Thank you kindly, Miss Evelyn,” I whispered.
Miss Evelyn walked me through the living room and to the front door. “Bones, I have so enjoyed our visit. I do hope you will come back. Maybe next time we can play a few tunes on the piano together.”
“Yes, ma’am, I would like that. I enjoyed it, too, especially the tea party. Maybe I can come back next week.”
“That would be lovely. You are welcome anytime.”
I walked out the gate and strolled along the picket fence. I stopped and looked back at the white house. I thought I saw the silhouette of Miss Evelyn still standing behind the screen door. That house didn’t look so big or mysterious anymore; I now knew it was full of wonder and the presence of Mr. Speed.
I clutched the picture of Mr. Speed and raced the entire way home. Mama was in the back room pumping her foot up and down on her treadle sewing machine. I ran in and held the photograph in front of her. “Mama, this is Mr. Speed when he was in the army. Miss Evelyn gave it to me. The two of us went to her house, the big white one, and had a tea party with her Chinese tea set.”
Mama looked at me and raised an eyebrow, a crooked little smile on her face. “A china tea set?”
“Yes, ma’am, she said it was from China.”
“A china tea set?”
“Yes, ma’am, that’s what I said, it’s from China.”
“Bones, it’s not from China. It’s a type of very fine dishes called china.”
“Well, anyway, we had a tea party, and Miss Evelyn is so nice and elegant. She looks like Maureen O’Hara. Don’t you think so, Mama?”
“Bones, it sounds like you had a wonderful time with Miss Evelyn. Why don’t you wait until supper, when your daddy is home, to tell us all about your visit.”
“Yes, ma’am. I just hope I can wait.”
I ran into my room, then turned around and ran back out. “Mama, can I go over and see Little Man? I want to show him this picture and tell him all about Miss Evelyn.”
“That sounds like a good idea. Because you’re going to be jumping around like a flea until suppertime.” Mama stopped pedaling on the sewing machine and looked at me. “Bones, stay on the road. Don’t take any shortcuts into the swamp. You hear?”
“Yes, ma’am, I will. And I’ll be back way before dark. I promise.”
I clutched my picture of Mr. Speed and ran the whole way to Little Man’s house. When I arrived I ran up the steps. As usual the front door was open. I looked inside and saw Miss Melba standing at the kitchen counter making biscuits.
“Miss Melba,” I gasped, “look at this, it’s a picture of Mr. Speed when he was in the army.”
Miss Melba’s hands were covered almost up to her elbows in fine white flour dust. She kept her hands in the biscuit bowl and leaned back for a closer look at the picture.
“My goodness, he was such a handsome young man. Where did you get his picture?”
“Miss Evelyn gave it to me. I went to her house today, and we had a tea party together. It’s the first time I ever spent any time with her. She’s a real nice lady.”
“Yes, she is. I’m so sorry for her loss. Speed was their only child. He was a smart young man with a bright future.”
“Did you know him when he was younger?”
“Oh yes. Cotton and I are quite a bit older, but I do have fond memories of him as a young boy. Along with your daddy, we all pretty much grew up here together.”
I stood in the warm familiar kitch
en in front of Miss Melba and felt dumber than a doorknob. How could I not have remembered all of this? Of course they grew up together, just like me and Little Man were doing right now!
I finally caught my breath and asked, “Do you know where Little Man is? I want to show him this picture, too.”
“He’s out back at the pigpen.”
“Thanks, Miss Melba, I’ll see you later.”
I ran back down the steps. When I got to the pigpen, Little Man had just closed the gate and was walking back to the house.
“Little Man, look at this, it’s a picture of Mr. Speed in the army.”
Before he could say a word, I told Little Man all about my tea party with Miss Evelyn.
On our walk back to his house, I said, “While I was with Miss Evelyn I forgot about our troubles for a while. Now I’m back to worrying again. What if Mr. Charlie did see something. What if he saw Nolay out there?”
“Gol-durn, Bones, that’s your daddy you’re talkin’ about. You think he killed ol’ Peckerhead and that Yankee man, too?”
“No. I mean, I don’t want to think like that. But there’s so much stuff piling up in my mind. Where’s his red handkerchief? How did his knife get out in the swamps where that man’s body was found? And the night Peckerhead died Nolay was supposed to be fishing with Ironhead, but now he says he was up in Jacksonville.”
“I still say you got to have faith in the Lord, you got to trust Sheriff LeRoy, and most of all you got to believe in your daddy.”
“I hope you’re right, Little Man. I’m doing the best I can.”
“Besides, there ain’t much we can do about it. We just got to wait and see what uncovers itself.”
When we reached Little Man’s house, I said, “I best be getting back home. Mama don’t want me out at dark. And come to think of it, I don’t much want to be out at dark, either. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Precious Bones Page 20