Color the Sidewalk for Me

by Brandilyn Collins

  “I know.”

  He bit his lip. “You don’t really know, Celia. All you do is hear it. But my mama’s livin’ it. I’m livin’ it. And we can’t take much more.”

  “Well, what are you goin’ to do?” My voice tinged with accusation at the mere thought that he would leave me.

  He shook his head. “For now, nothin’. Summer’s halfway through. When school starts up again, I got one more year; then I’m out.”

  “You can work at the mill after you graduate, like we talked about.”

  “I can’t, Celia.” He pleaded with his eyes for understanding. “I can’t work at the mill full-time and care for the farm, too; there ain’t that much time in the day. The farm’s struggling so much, I can’t even keep up with it working all day this summer. If I worked at the mill, I’d earn money, but the farm would really fall apart and we’d have no place to live. If I just keep carin’ for the farm, we’ll never git anywhere. And then there’s Daddy. Most nights I barely sleep. I lie in bed with my muscles stiff, ready to jump up if he starts hurtin’ Mama. And she cries all the time. I got you but there’s nothin’ here for her.”

  I stared sightlessly across the river. I knew that life in Bradleyville was becoming harder and harder for him and his mama. Lately Anthony Cander was always drinking, even on weekdays. On weekends he’d drive his beat-up truck to Albertsville bars and not return home until all hours of the night.

  “Listen, Celia, I ain’t talkin’ about leaving you. I love you with all my heart. What I’m talkin’ about is making a life for myself. I don’t know how things’ll turn out after I graduate, but I need to find a way to take Mama away from here, away from Daddy. You’re only a year behind me in school. We wouldn’t have to be apart for very long.”

  A year without Danny was a lifetime. I lowered my eyes, not wanting him to see the tears that stung them. I respected him for putting his mama first. Wouldn’t I do the same for Granddad or Kevy or Daddy? But the thought of staying in Bradleyville without him sent ice through my veins. “Where would you go?”

  “I don’t know. And I don’t know how I’d manage it, either; it may never happen.” His tone was tinged with bitterness. “But I been talkin’ to Cousin Lee and Miss Jessie. Lee’s got a great aunt and uncle that’s kept in touch ever since they moved away. He was thinkin’ maybe they could help.”

  “What if your daddy won’t let you leave?”

  Danny exhaled slowly. “I just don’t know.”

  I didn’t want to speak any more of his moving away but could think of little else. Months before, Lee Harding had promised Danny a job at the mill, and when I mentioned it again the following Saturday, Danny soothed me, saying he’d accept it. Somehow the farm situation would work itself out. Perhaps when he wasn’t around to do the work, his daddy would straighten up. Or maybe Danny and his mama could rent a little house in town, letting the farm and Anthony Cander go to seed together. His mama could work, too, Danny added as we reached our oak canopy. With two paychecks they would do just fine.

  “She could work for Miss Jessie,” I said brightly. With more customers coming from Albertsville, Jessie Harding now employed two people. She worked so much that I had baby-sat for the kids almost full-time since school let out. With my pay I’d opened a bank account, which was growing steadily.

  “Yeah.” Danny caught me around the waist. “And when I ever do leave this town, it’ll only be to travel with you.”

  “To the ocean,” I said, grinning.

  “And the waves.”

  “We’ll dig our toes in the sand.”

  “Camp out under the stars.”

  We plopped down on the grass underneath our trees. I leaned against a trunk, imagining the possibilities. Danny grew pensive. “You’ve always said you want to go to college.”

  “I still do. You could stay here for a year, and then when I graduate we can get married and go off to college together.”

  “Somebody’s got to work.”

  I pondered this. “We’ll both work part-time and go to classes part-time.”

  Danny pulled my head against his shoulder, wrapping his arms around me. We sat for a while in silence.

  “Celia, for all my talk, I really may have to leave here and take Mama away,” he said quietly. “But I promise you if that happens, I’ll wait for you. I’ll count the days till we can be together again.”

  “Things will change and you won’t need to go.” I raised my head from his shoulder. “Things would be easier on you—and me—if we could be together more. Maybe Mama will let us date this year.”

  He shook his head. “You’re crazy if you think your mama will let you date when you’re only sixteen. Even if it was Bobby Delham you wanted to see.”

  We both guessed Bobby would be Mama’s choice for me. Everybody knew he had liked me for a long time. “Well, I’m gonna try anyway,” I retorted. “She’s lettin’ me come here, isn’t she? And who would’ve guessed that? I’ve got to do something so you can stay here. I’m not lettin’ you leave without a fight.”

  “Well, don’t go fightin’ with your mama; that’s not gonna help us any.”

  I promised to do my best.

  Disaster has a way of striking when you least expect it, like a snake in tall grass. While Danny and I were talking at the river, Granddad collapsed on our couch in dizziness, a blue-veined hand clutching his chest. By the time Kevy and I got home, even Mama was frantic, fanning his gray face while Daddy called Doc Richardson. It took all three of us to get Granddad in his own bed. Meanwhile Kevy set his bucket of fish on the back porch and put his pole in the garage. Then we all paced the living room, waiting as the doctor examined Granddad.

  “There’s not much we can do, Estelle,” the doctor said when he finally emerged from Granddad’s room. “His heart’s simply wearing down, like the cardiologist told you. Just keep him as quiet as you can.”

  “Ha! Since when do you keep Thomas Bradley quiet?”

  Doc Richardson laid a bony hand on her arm. “Estelle. Your daddy’s had a long, good life. He’s always been stubborn and he’ll enter the gates a heaven that way. Don’t try to change him; that’s not what I meant. Just . . . enjoy him. While he’s still with you.”

  I stood near Mama’s chair, hand on the headrest, feeling the nubby fabric beneath my fingertips. Such simple words, I thought as I saw my own dreaded understanding creep across Mama’s face. I couldn’t remember Mama ever enjoying Granddad while he was vibrant. How was she going to enjoy him now in his decline?

  Mama’s eyes grew round and bright. Daddy slid a protective arm around her shoulders. “How long?” he asked.

  The doctor shook his head. “I can’t answer that. It could be a while, unless he has a full-fledged heart attack. Given his circumstances, that is certainly possible.”

  “I see.” Mama’s voice was flat. “Thank you for comin’.”

  Doc Richardson had been dismissed. Daddy walked him out to his car. Kevy and I both ran to Mama, putting our arms around her. She hugged my brother and managed to pat me on the back.

  “He’ll be all right, Mama,” I said. “Granddad always comes through.”

  She remained silent, her hand warm upon me until she pulled away brusquely, telling Kevy to clean his fish and asking me to look in on Granddad. There was work to be done, she declared; supper needed fixing and she had a load of clothes to iron.

  As I walked down the hall, I reflected that she repelled sorrow as well as affection.

  chapter 36

  After a few weeks Granddad seemed to return to normal. Perhaps his voice was a bit more frail as he regaled us with his war stories at dinner; perhaps he was a touch slower settling into his porch chair for an afternoon with Jake Lewellyn. But a certain determination lit his eyes, even as he would carefully tilt back his head to wash down a pill. “Missy,” he said one evening as I dusted his room, “I ain’t ready to meet my Maker yet. There’s still things I got to do.”

  He rested on his bed, propped against
two pillows. I sat down beside him. “What do you have to do, Granddad?” I asked softly.

  He closed his eyes for a moment before answering. “For one thing, I ain’t made things right with your mama yet. Lord knows I’ve tried and tried. I done lots a prayin’, and I know the Lord answers prayer. But this one’s been a long time comin’.”

  “What wrong with her, Granddad? Why is she . . . the way she is?”

  His head shook briefly against the pillow. “Ah, missy, your mama’s got hurts that go deep, and I’m to blame for some of ’em. I been askin’ her forgiveness for years now, but she just ain’t got it in her yet. I suppose when it finally comes, I’ll feel I can pass on to the Pearly Gates.”

  “Granddad, please tell me what you’re talking about.”

  “Not now.” He smiled wanly. “The past ain’t important anyhow. I’m lookin’ toward the future.”

  “Mama’s been like this as long as I can remember, Granddad,” I said. “She’s never going to change; don’t expect her to. It’ll only hurt you more. I don’t think she can change.”

  “God can change her, missy. If he could change my heart, he can sure do it for her.”

  “But she’s got to be willin’, right?”

  “Yep. God don’t force us. Amazing, but he don’t. I just pray he’ll soften her heart, help her be ready. But you got to understand, I pray the same thing for myself every day. I always got to watch my pride; the Lord has to help me with that constantly. It gets in the way between me and your mama.”

  I marveled at his big heart, both tender and tenacious. Then another thought struck me. If he was right, if by some remote chance God did have an answer to my ancient problem with Mama, I was not seeking it. Only for a moment did I consider that thought. Then purposefully I pushed it away.

  Granddad interrupted my pondering. “Enough talk about me. How’re you and Danny?”

  How easily I found myself spilling our problems to him. “And in the midst of everything,” I complained finally, “Mama doesn’t understand how we feel. She probably keeps thinkin’ I’ll come to my senses and forget about Danny. But I’m not goin’ to care about anyone else. Ever.” Granddad nodded. “He feels the same way about you, don’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  He gazed absently at the medals on top of his bookcase, ruminating. “That boy’s got the world on his shoulders. He’s right, you know, about leavin’. I never thought I’d be advocatin’ you shovin’ off from your hometown, but I don’t see how the two a you can stay here. Anthony’s just not stable, and I don’t want you put in a dangerous situation.”

  “But Granddad, I can’t stand to think of Danny leavin’.”

  “Yes, you can.” He reached for my hand. “You can if you’re sure Danny’s the one God wants for you. Make sure a that first. Then one year apart may be hard, but it can give you a lifetime together that’ll be blessed. God’ll watch over you both in the meantime. So let him get situated somewhere and take care a his mama. But missy”—he squeezed my fingers—“your mama may not understand your havin’ to go. Even though you’ll be old enough to make your own decisions. She don’t like the thought a people leavin’ her.”

  I nodded.

  “Just don’t judge her too hard. Keep a tender spirit. Keep lovin’ her and, above all, keep prayin’. She’ll come around in time.”

  I did not want to return to the subject of Mama. “What about this comin’ school year?” I pressed. “Do you think Mama will let Danny and me date?”

  He sighed. “Well, that’s a difficult situation; you’re young yet. We’d have to start slow. But maybe if I worked on her, she’d at least let him come to supper.”

  School started at the end of August, and once again Danny and I were back to see-but-don’t-touch. Granddad and I had been trying to persuade Mama to let Danny come for a meal, with high hopes that one grudging invitation would lead to more and eventually he could come calling. I couldn’t imagine Mama finding anything wrong with Danny if she knew him better. The more Danny and I talked about it, the more we began to believe that our very lives depended on such a supper. Daddy posed no problem; for all his quietness, he shared Granddad’s understanding and wisdom. Unlike Granddad, however, he did not possess the gall to declare it to Mama.

  When Mama finally agreed to invite Danny for supper that coming Thursday “just this one time,” Danny and I were ecstatic. I was also scared to death. At long last I would see Danny surrounded by my family. How I longed for Mama to embrace his presence with us. I told Danny to work on his English; Mama wouldn’t be impressed with poor grammar. He humbly took my warning to heart, informing me Wednesday at lunch that he was practicing at home as well as at school.

  “People are lookin’ at me strange,” he said, breaking a piece of cornbread in two. “Like I’m trying to be highfalutin or somethin’.”

  “Well, let ’em,” I replied testily, not bothering to correct his use of the word strange.

  The cornbread stopped halfway to his mouth. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “It’s just people, that’s all. Haven’t you noticed the way they’re lookin’ at us this first week back? It’s like teachers are all sayin’, ‘Oh my, are they still together?’”

  “So let ’em.” The cornbread disappeared into his mouth.

  “Just look at ol’ Miss Hemington over there givin’ us the eye. And I know I saw Mr. Leam watch you sit down across from me, then comment to the principal.”

  “It don’t—doesn’t matter, Celia. Leave it alone.”

  “Except for Mr. Rose. He actually smiled at me when you sat down.”

  “Celia.” Danny cast me an exasperated look. “Will you quit readin’ something into everything that goes on around you?”

  “Well, you know it’s true.”

  “I don’t know nothin’. All’s I—”

  “Anything.”

  He tapped a finger against his green plastic tray. “I don’t know anything. All’s I know is that I’m sittin’ here with you. And here come Mona and Barbara, and Bart’s headed this way; none a them’s looking like anything’s wrong. Besides that, half a the things you think people’re thinking, they’re not really thinking at all. You’re just gettin’ a chip on your shoulder. And that’s something you got to watch. I should know; I carried one around for long enough.”

  Mouth tightening, I studied him, unable to admit he was right. His upbeat attitude was most annoying. For someone who faced my mama’s appraisal in little more than twenty-four hours, he seemed as unconcerned as a baby possum crossing the road. I opened my mouth for a retort, then closed it. Fine then. If he was nothing but excited about tomorrow, I’d leave him to it.

  I was terrified enough for both of us.

  Danny’s carefree demeanor did not last. On that inauspicious Thursday evening he arrived late, sweating and nervous. Granddad, Kevy, and Daddy greeted him warmly. “So sorry, Mrs. Matthews,” he blurted. “At the last minute Daddy took the truck and I had to walk.”

  You mean run, I thought. He’d probably sprinted the whole way in the heat.

  “That’s all right, Danny,” Mama said, smiling coolly. “Supper’s not quite on the table yet.”

  Months later I would view that evening as the first drop of fitful rain before a torrent. But at that moment I knew only anticipation. Danny was everything I knew he would be—he was polite, he watched his grammar, he complimented Mama on her food and responded with humility when Daddy thanked him again for saving Kevy. Mama watched Danny carefully with an I’m-boss-here expression. Danny must have been intimidated, but he didn’t show it, and I chose to believe I saw grudging respect for his poise in Mama’s eyes.

  And then came the moment when it all changed. Mama asked him what he wanted to do in the future.

  “Cousin Lee’s promised me a good job at the mill,” he replied innocently. “But eventually I’d like to travel, see the world.”

  The air chilled.

  “Sounds good,” Daddy offered a little too jo
vially.

  Disapproval moved across my mama’s face like sand blowing off a seashell, and I felt my hopes spin away. Danny glanced at his plate, flustered. My heart ached for him. How hard he was trying to please. And how stupid I’d been, neglecting to warn him about mentioning his dreams of travel.

  “How did I do?” he whispered anxiously as we sat later on the back porch steps in the few moments Mama had allowed us before Daddy drove him home.

  I smiled reassuringly, longing to promise everything would be all right. “You were wonderful. You are wonderful. I’m so proud to be with you.”

  His hand furtively found mine on the wooden slats between us. “No matter what, I love you, Celia,” he said. “With all my heart.”

  “Thank you, Mama, for lettin’ him come.”

  We stood in the kitchen doing dishes after Daddy left to take Danny home, Kevy riding along. I’d desperately wanted to drive Danny myself; I’d recently gotten my license and ached to be alone with him. But I hadn’t dared ask.

  “You’re welcome.” She was busily putting leftovers into containers.

  “He’s nice, don’t you think?”

  “Very nice.” She sounded troubled.

  “And he’s already got a job lined up once he graduates.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  I pushed a large blue sponge underwater and watched it expand. “Can he come again?”

  “He’s not content to stay in Bradleyville, Celia.”

  I slid a plate under the lemony suds, feeling my legs go weak. “Would you, if you were Anthony Cander’s son?”

  No reply.

  “He just wants respect, Mama. And it’s a little hard for him to come by here.”

  “No, Celia, that’s not what he wants. What he really wants is to see the world.”

  “What’s the matter with that? Lots of people want to travel.”

  Firmly she snapped the lid over a plastic bowl. “It’s more than that. I see it in his eyes; I know that look all too well. It’s a yearnin’ so deep, so . . . selfish . . . that it becomes more important than any other thing or any other person. And regardless of who it hurts and how badly it hurts them, it can be rationalized away. With great pride.”