Homebound

by Kata Čuić

  He grimaces like the same sour taste is invading his mouth. “Yep. Friends. Catchin’ up. That’s all.”

  That doesn’t make me feel any better, but if an explanation will make him leave sooner, then so be it. “A student pulled a knife on me. I realized I wasn’t a city girl after all. Not even a low-income, inner-city girl with the best of intentions.”

  That’s true, but that’s not the whole reason I left. I’m the only parent my daughter has ever known. Mama and Daddy would love her if anything ever happened to me, but it wouldn’t be the same. Jesse never even met his father, yet he felt the loss every day of his life. I couldn’t do that to Anne.

  “N- Lenore,” he backtracks. “I didn’t know. Why didn’t ya ever press charges? Why keep it out of your files?”

  I shrug. “Life in the city is hard.”

  He nods. “Life in the mountains is hard, too. Just different kinds of hard, I reckon.”

  “I guess so.”

  We stare at each other for a few minutes in strained silence. With every fiber in my bones, I feel him working up the guts to say something. My anxiety grows with each tick of the second hand on my wall clock.

  He opens his mouth, closes it again, then shakes his head. “Ya ain’t gonna ask me why I came back? The curiosity must be killin’ ya.”

  I turn around to pull my tote bag off the back of my chair. Seeing his face nearly every day—more handsome than ever—kills me all right.

  “I’m afraid to ask,” I mumble.

  His low chuckle indicates he heard me. “Ya think I’m in this for the revenge, don’t ya? Admit it.”

  The thought has definitely crossed my mind. “Are you?”

  He glances out into the hallway where the last of the students are trickling home for the day. “Naw. No one in this town ever expected I’d make somethin’ of myself, and here I am. Feels like there ain’t no better revenge than that.” He returns an even gaze to me. “No one except you, reckon I should say. Ya always believed in me.”

  “I did.” If he doesn’t leave soon, tears I don’t have time for are gonna rattle their cage.

  He scoffs, but it’s full of amusement. “Did? Not do? Don’t have any faith I can lead this school into the kind of education ya wanted for your own students?”

  That question feels far too loaded to answer. I need to get home to play with Anne. “I have no doubt you’ll be the best principal Martins Landing has ever seen, Mr. Yates.”

  Hoping that’s enough closure for today’s gut-wrenching conversation, I pull the strap of my bag over my shoulder and palm the keys on my desk to lock up the classroom behind us.

  Expecting Jesse to follow, I startle when he lays a hand on my arm to halt my retreat. His touch alone makes me want to throw up all over his expensive shoes.

  “All right, all right. I thought I could appeal to your better senses by playin’ the friends card, but we’re both lousy at pretendin’, I guess.”

  Yep. Definitely going to throw up. My stomach twists into likely irreversible knots as I wait for him to reveal his real motives for keeping me so long after class on a Friday.

  “I need your help, Lenore.”

  “My help?”

  “Oh, don’t look so surprised.” He chuckles dryly. “We might not be friends anymore, but beggars can’t be choosers, and we’re the only people in this building who’d like to see things change for the better. If we’re gonna make a difference for these kids, then we gotta put our heads together to get it done.”

  I don’t know what I was expecting him to spring on me, but it wasn’t this. I actually feel faint from the amount of relief coursing through me. “What did you have in mind?”

  He twists his mouth to the side. “Anythin’. Everythin’. The district cut fundin’ for most of the extracurriculars and activities. There ain’t no music department anymore. No girls’ sports. These kids might not be joinin’ gangs like in Chicago, but the drugs, alcohol, and trouble are as bad as they ever were. They don’t have anythin’ else to do with their time.”

  I nod. This subject, I’ll happily talk his ears off about. “Inclusion models are actually the best weapon we have against both poor education and addiction. I studied a lot of those different methods.”

  He raises his eyebrows, obviously impressed. I’m not sure what he thought I did with my time at Northwestern if not learn new things.

  “So, you’ll help me then? Whatever it takes?”

  I groan.

  He’s got me right where he wants me, and I can’t say no.

  Fifteen Years Ago

  My eyelids are heavy, my body warm and snug in my blanket cocoon. The air in my room is cold and still. The first snow of the season is supposed to come overnight. It surely will. I can smell it, taste those flakes on my tongue. Every year it’s the same. Right before that first snow, the air changes. It’s different, cleaner, better.

  I can’t wait. Maybe tomorrow—if we get enough—Jesse and I can build a snow fort, snowman, and snow angels. More likely, he’ll want to have a snowball fight, but that’s okay, too. So long as he wants to play with me.

  A flicker of light outside my window catches my attention. Maybe I’m dreaming.

  Rubbing my eyes with my fists, I draw the curtains open and check again. Nope. I’m not seeing things. There’s a light on in my treehouse.

  My treehouse don’t have no electricity.

  My mind wanders with thoughts of what it could be. A fire? I don’t see no smoke. My flashlight? It wasn’t on a few minutes ago when I first climbed into bed. Someone must be up there, but who?

  First off, I think of Gerald. Gerald Crow is a sweet, gentle soul. Everyone in town except Mama and Daddy tell me to stay away from him. Even Jesse.

  “The Crow family inbreeds, and them folks is dangerous,” Bobbi Sue says. “’Specially that Gerald. He don’t talk none, so no one knows what’s goin’ on inside that head of his.”

  I say that’s a load of malarkey. Just because Gerald don’t talk none don’t make him dangerous. He’s got kind eyes, that one. He’s just hungry and can’t find work because no one’ll hire him. I bet he’s really smart. Jesse’s real quiet, but he’s one of the smartest kids I know. If someone would give Gerald a chance, he’d prove himself like Jesse does at school. I just know it.

  Daddy told me Gerald’s own family kicked him out of the house when he was just a little mite since they thought there was something wrong with him. The only thing wrong I can tell is not taking care of your own kin.

  Them Crows is touched, that’s for sure.

  I always give Gerald something when I see him. Even if it’s only a pretty rock I find in the street. He might not say nothing, but he always smiles in thanks. He likes to listen to all my pretend stories, no matter how long I talk. That’s how I know he ain’t as bad as everyone says.

  Maybe Gerald’s camping out in my treehouse. It’s mighty cold tonight, and he ain’t got nowhere to go.

  I’ll bet he could use a blanket and pillow, and it just so happens I have some to spare.

  Mama and Daddy always tell me to help whenever I can, but I know they’d be mad at me going out after dark. They’re probably sleeping by now, but I ain’t gonna chance it. I grab my extra pillow and blanket then slide my window up as quiet as I can. It ain’t easy because the window’s awful squeaky, but if I go slow, I can manage.

  I didn’t think to grab my coat and boots, so I run to the tree fast as I can while my feet burn from the cold, hard contact with the frosty grass. Scurrying my way up the ladder ain’t easy with an armful of stuff.

  I push open the door, panting for air. My excitement to help Gerald is wiped clean away when I see who’s huddled in the far corner of my little house with his nose in a book and a candle dripping by his feet.

  “Jesse?”

  I must surprise him because he nearly jumps outta his skin and knocks the candle over with his foot. He hurries to pick it up before it sets the wood afire.

  He burns himself on the hot
wax, letting out a loud hiss. “Darn it all, Nora! Ya scared the snot outta me!”

  “I scared you? What in tarnation are ya doin’ out here? It’s way past our bedtime! We got school in the mornin’. Your ma’s gonna be so mad if she finds out ya snuck away to read.”

  “She won’t even notice I’m gone,” he mumbles, settling himself back in the corner.

  “When she does, she’s gonna tan your hide. Ya best get on home. She’ll be fit to be tied, I’m tellin’ ya.”

  “Why don’t you go home and leave me alone?”

  Jesse’s always telling me I talk before I think. So, for a few minutes, I do just that. Thing is, I’m not real keen on the thoughts I’m thinking.

  Jesse’s dressed in ripped jeans, snow boots, and his tattered winter coat that’s a few sizes too small. He’s trying to hide it, but he can’t stop shaking from the cold. His dirty cheeks are ruddy, but I don’t think it’s from freezing. He’s embarrassed I caught him out here in my treehouse. I can tell by the way he keeps peeking at me. When he’s really ignoring me, he never moves his eyes away from the words he’s absorbing like a dried-up sponge soaking up water.

  What my eyes see that I hate the most is that he’s been crying. The tear tracks through the grime on his face give him away.

  Jesse never cries. Not in front of me anyhow. Not when the kids at school pick on him. Not when he falls and scrapes his hands and knees. Not even when I know he’s hungry because I can hear his belly rumbling. He’s sure been crying tonight. That kinda scares me if I’m honest.

  Something real bad must have happened to make Jesse Yates hide in my treehouse on a cold night and cry.

  I remember back when we first started school together. I came home and told Mama all about Kenny stealing my blue ribbon, and how Jesse got in trouble to get it back for me.

  “He’s just like his daddy.” Mama smiled. “A hero.”

  I asked after Mr. Yates. I’d never met him, but I started to notice whenever we’d see Mrs. Yates, she was always with a different man. That bothered me a might, but Mama said I shouldn’t pay it no heed. She said I should mind my own business and not be so nosey.

  Thing is, how can anyone be a good friend if they’re not nosey? Jesse wouldn’t tell me nothing about his life, wouldn’t even smile. I had to ask questions to find out what he likes, and even that was hard work.

  So, I did what I always do. I pestered Mama until she gave in and told me what I needed to know. She said Jesse’s daddy was in the army and died being a hero. Jesse never got to meet him since he was just a baby when his daddy died.

  That only made me want to be Jesse’s angel even more.

  Every day after school when I was done playing with Jesse in the treehouse, I’d beg Mama to tell me a little about the Yates family. I found out all kinds of good and sad stuff. Jesse’s daddy and my daddy was best friends growing up. When Mr. Yates didn’t come home, Mrs. Yates was so sad, she holed herself up in the trailer with Mr. Yates’s mama because she didn’t have no family to call her own. Daddy and Mama helped them out a lot when Jesse was just a baby. She said we played together all the time when we was both learning to crawl.

  Then one day, Mrs. Yates’s pride got the best of her, and she decided she didn’t want no more help. Mama said it was a sad day for everyone, but there wasn’t much to be done for it. That was when Jesse’s maw-maw got real sick, so Mrs. Yates decided to find work.

  Jesse and I didn’t get to play together no more.

  “Well, what are ya starin’ at, girl? Go on back home now. Git!”

  I jump at Jesse’s mean voice and blink a few times. I didn’t realize I was staring at him. I didn’t mean to. Maybe Jesse’s missing his daddy tonight, and that’s why he’s been crying. I’ve come to know Jesse’s only nasty when something’s eating at him. He don’t mean it none.

  “Here.” I hold out the pillow and blanket to him. “I thought maybe Gerald was up here lookin’ for a warm place to sleep, but ya can have these to keep ya warm, too.”

  “I ain’t takin’ your pillow and blanket.” His voice softens. “You’ll be cold then.”

  “No, I won’t! Promise! I got others. Mama makes all kinds of quilts. Ya can have this one, really.”

  “Well, take your pillow back at least.”

  “I got another one of those, too. Ya keep this one…if you’re plannin’ to sleep here.”

  Jesse won’t look at me, so I know I’m right. He’s spending the whole night in the treehouse. Out in the cold and dark. All alone.

  “Ya all right, Jesse?” I whisper ask. Jesse don’t like no one to feel sorry for him. He’s proud just like his ma.

  “You’re shiverin’, Nora. Come on over here and warm up for a spell before ya catch cold.”

  I don’t know what to make of his offer. Jesse ain’t really the touchy feely type. He even gets annoyed with me if I sit too close to him while he’s reading.

  “Come on, girl,” he coaxes quiet-like. “Beggars can’t be choosers, ya know.”

  That’s his way of saying thank you for the blanket and pillow.

  I crawl over to him. He wraps an arm around me before pulling the blanket over the both of us. He pulls me closer and rests his head against mine. It makes my tummy feel funny, and my heart does flip-flops. Jesse ain’t never been so nice to me before. I didn’t feel how cold I was until he started warming me up.

  “When ya stop shakin’ go back to your soft bed, all right?”

  I’m learning Jesse has this whole different way of talking than other people. What he says and what he means are two different things. This is his way of telling me he’s scared and lonely.

  “Hey, Jesse,” I whisper. I gotta be careful, or he’ll just get mad and push me away. “Ya wanna tell me a story?”

  He laughs a little, his body bouncing against mine. “What? Ya don’t wanna play pretend?”

  “Naw, not tonight. I’m too sleepy for that.”

  “Well, I can read ya this here book if ya want a bedtime story.”

  I take a deep breath and let it out to stop my shaking that isn’t from the cold night air. “Will ya tell me a story about your daddy, the hero?”

  Jesse goes stone still beside me.

  Guess I done gone and messed up again. I’m a lousy angel.

  “What do ya know about my pa?”

  I bite my lip, afraid to say. He’s already mad.

  “Nora?” He squeezes his arm around my shoulders. “Where’d ya hear about my pa?”

  “Um…My mama told me he’s a hero, that’s all. I just figured maybe your ma told ya some stories about his adventures.”

  Jesse scoots down a little against the wall, grabs the pillow I brought, and arranges it behind him. Then he pulls me closer, so my head rests on his shoulder. He tucks the quilt up around us. “Them’s the only stories my ma and maw-maw ever told me.”

  I guess I just been asking Jesse the wrong questions all this time because I ain’t never heard him talk so much before. He goes on and on until my eyelids get real heavy, and I can barely stay awake.

  “…that’s why my ma says our family motto is ‘whatever it takes.’”

  And that’s the last thing I remember before falling asleep, snuggled up with Jesse.

  Pretty Is as Pretty Does

  This must be what having a nervous breakdown feels like. Of all the things I’ve endured in my life, I never imagined watching my four-year-old daughter climb the rungs up to a rickety old treehouse would be the thing to end me. My heart flutters in my chest, one wrong step away from ceasing to beat. Or maybe that’s what’ll happen when she makes it to the top.

  “Anne Shirley Wheeler!” I scream as I tear off toward the backyard, slamming my car door shut behind me. “I done told ya not to climb up there! What in blazes do ya think you’re doin’?”

  A breeze of giggles wafts over my shoulders before a gruff voice stays my trail of anger.

  “Hold your horses, Lenore. Ain’t no harm in her findin’ joy in the same p
lace her mama used to be so happy.”

  My daddy eyes me with a pointed look from the base of the tree.

  I fist my hands in my hair, no one around to pretend I’m not about to lose my ever-loving mind. “Ya gotta get her down,” I pant. “Jesse’ll be here any minute, and—”

  Daddy holds up a hand to stop my rant. “I’ll get the shotgun.”

  “Ya can’t kill him!” I screech.

  He leans in, dropping his voice to warning levels. “Ya shoulda let me kill him five years ago.”

  Mama appears, no doubt summoned by my shrill voice. She slaps Daddy on the shoulder. “Ya ain’t gonna do no such thing. Ya never was. Ya love that boy like your own son, and ya wouldn’t do nothin’ to tarnish his pa’s memory.”

  “His pa’s rollin’ over in his grave to see what kinda man Jesse turned out to be, no doubt,” Daddy fires back.

  “We’ve been over this.” I point at him. “If anyone deserves a chance to make something of himself, it’s Jesse Yates. He doesn’t need anyone or anything dragging him down and keeping him bound to the mountains.”

  Daddy rolls his eyes heavenward. “Ya won’t let me kill him; ya won’t let me tell him the truth! I swear to lands, ya women are God’s curse to the simple minds of men everywhere!”

  Mama chuckles, but her gaze on Daddy is full of love. “Ya said it yourself. Simple minds.”

  Anne’s voice lifts all our eyes upwards. Her little face peers out one of the windows. “Mommy! Look at me!”

  “Baby,” I coax, “Can you come down, please? I have something really fun to show you inside the big house!”

  She narrows her eyes. “What?”

  “A new coloring book I picked up for you in town on my way home from work,” I lie.

  Her face disappears, and the trap door entrance pulls closed. The bullshit meter strikes again.

  “No, no, no, no,” I groan. “I don’t have time for this.”

  “What’s this about Jesse comin’ over?” Mama questions, obviously having overheard more than I figured.

  “He wants me to help him make some plans for how to better the high school.”