Just Claire

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Just Claire Page 8

by Jean Ann Williams


  ClaireLee’s eyes misted again. “I dropped him. Then, I hit his head on the faucet. This baby will never trust me.” Feather’s cries slowed to a whimper-coo. She asked Liam, as he made his way to her side, “Should we get Mama?”

  “Lemme see.” He reached for Feather’s head.

  ClaireLee moved the baby from Liam. “Mama says never touch a newborn’s soft spot.”

  “Our little guy’ll be all right.” Liam puckered his lips and pointed, but didn’t touch. “Just a red ding. See? The skin’s only a bit scraped.”

  I’ve got to stop crying. ClaireLee wiped at her nose. “Sure, sure, I know you’re right.” She managed to replace a grimace, relaxing her face, while the kids murmured words to soothe Feather.

  On tip-toes, Lolly peered at the baby. “Sissy Pie, fix his owie. Poor little baby; fix him.”

  “You’re right. Liam, get the first-aid cream from the bathroom.” ClaireLee blew on Feather’s sore, and Liam squirted a tad of the cream on Feather’s head. She smeared the medicine with a pinkie. “Now, then, everything’s going to be okay.”

  Her eyes wandered from calm Feather to Mama’s locked door. ClaireLee tsked her tongue in sorrow.

  Why didn’t you come to help me, Mama?

  10

  MORNING HAS BROKEN

  * * *

  Storing groceries she’d bought at Holcomb’s Market, ClaireLee was glad Belinda was spending the night. Daddy agreed after she told him Belinda would be helping with chores. Brushing breakfast crumbs off the floor and into a dustpan, she stopped as Liam answered a knock at the door.

  A commotion hit the doorway, and Belinda barreled inside. She led an older woman with straight high-cut bangs across her forehead. “Hey, ClaireLee, this is my shorty grandma.”

  Belinda’s grandma swatted at her as though she were a fly. “Lindy, mind your manners.” She heaved forward and pumped ClaireLee’s hand with her pudgy one. “Glad to know ya, darlin’. Lindy, here, tells me ya been a right good friend.”

  Drawn to the older woman, ClaireLee found her voice. “Nice to meet you, Mrs.—”

  “Nobody calls her Mrs. Wolf.” Raucous laughter burst from Belinda. “She’s Grandma Neecy to the whole town.”

  Grandma Neecy placed hands on the back of her hips. “Grandma without the d, ’cause, boy-howdy, I ain’t grand, don’t ya know.” She hooted and ha-haed with laughter.

  Worried over the noisy older woman, ClaireLee glanced at Mama’s door. She then remembered her manners and introduced her siblings. “These are my brothers, Liam Anthony and Grayson James.”

  Nodding, Grandma Neecy shook their hands. “Boys.” Her upper arm jiggled within the worn seams of her Mackinaw jacket. Grayson and Liam stared open-mouthed.

  As an attempt to distract everyone, ClaireLee snatched a-hold of her sister’s shoulders. Lolly took backward steps into her big sister, and ClaireLee placed hands on Lolly’s cheeks. “This is Lolly Francis.”

  “Hey, there.” Grandma Neecy raised her voice. “Ya cute doodlebug.”

  “We have to be quiet for Mama.” ClaireLee pointed to Mama’s closed door.

  The older woman laced fingers over her stomach. “Lindy told me about your ma, and I do apologize. We been a prayin’ for her, don’t ya know.”

  Hesitating, ClaireLee said, “Thank you.” I should have the nerve to ask her to pray for our whole family.

  “I’m here,” Belinda, said, “and Howdy Doody happy.”

  Lolly yanked on Belinda’s shirt. “Where you sleeping?”

  At the question, ClaireLee said, “I thought we’d camp out on the kitchen floor.” Everyone stared at the dinky space. She covered her mouth to stifle a gasp. “Uh. . .” She and Belinda locked eyes, and ClaireLee shrugged a shoulder. “Guess I didn’t think on this one too well.” How embarrassing. Her legs would be in our walking area.

  “My, my, ain’t it a tight spot?” Grandma Neecy flipped one of her thick dark braids over a shoulder and smacked her lips. “This would give me a hitch in my giddy-up.” Her hand fastened on Liam’s head. “I’m sure you boys are gentlemanly enough to take the floor, and let the girls have the bed.”

  I like Belinda’s grandma. ClaireLee tipped her head at the woman taking charge.

  With quick steps, Grayson ran over to the table and began pantomiming. “Me and Liam will throw a blanket over this table, and it’ll go all the way to the floor. It’ll become our fort, and we’ll sleep underneath.”

  “Why sure.” Grandma Neecy squinted. “A fort.”

  “Yeah, this’ll be fun,” Liam said.

  Hugging Belinda, Grandma Neecy said, “Behave yourself.”

  “Behave yourself, too, and don’t eat all the popcorn while I’m gone.”

  Everyone laughed except ClaireLee, and she tapped her lips. “Shhh.”

  * * *

  * * *

  Later after lunch, ClaireLee wrung out a drying cloth. “Belinda, there’s a path behind the cabin, and I’d like to explore it. Let’s pack a snack and see if it goes to the river.”

  A shadow crossed Belinda’s eyes. “The Rushing’s mighty dangerous, ClaireLee. Take my word for it.”

  “Daddy doesn’t want me near there, but if you go, I’m sure it’ll be okay.” ClaireLee wiped clean the table, satisfied she’d be going.

  Liam stepped into the conversation. “You’re disobeying Daddy, ClaireLee.”

  “Since when do you act the perfect angel?” His expression could have shot daggers. She grabbed the broom. “Figured as much.”

  “If I was your daddy,” Belinda paused, washing the last spoon, “I would trust me to keep ya safe at the river.”

  Having changed jobs, ClaireLee pushed the broom, collecting table scraps and dried mud. “The river sounds wild, and it’s got me curious.” She set her chin firm and then said, “I need to see it.”

  Belinda shook a finger at ClaireLee. “If we go ahead and do this, ya gotta promise to keep away from the edge.”

  “Don’t worry. I will.” After sweeping, she opened a brown paper bag and set it on the table. “Liam, you’ll read to Lolly until she falls asleep for her nap. Then, you guys can do what you want, like play cards.”

  “Okay,” Grayson said.

  The clatter of a plate hit the shelf. “Not fair,” Liam said.

  ClaireLee filled a pint jar with milk. “Why, Liam?” She added the milk and a dozen ginger cookies to the sack.

  “You get to go somewhere, and we don’t.”

  “Right.” She pulled her ponytail tighter, while Liam crossed his arms and plopped his behind on the bed. Grabbing her coat, ClaireLee said, “Stay inside the cabin while I’m gone, and be quiet for Mama and the baby.”

  The two friends wandered down the pine-needled path. They hadn’t gotten far when a Steller’s jay scolded from a nearby tree. The jay flew down yards in front of them and limped and squawked in a sort of crazy dance.

  Stopping, ClaireLee said, “Poor bird can’t walk right.”

  Cupping a hand over her forehead as though blocking the sun, Belinda said, “He has a crippled foot.”

  Cocking her head to one side, ClaireLee said, “Oh, so sad.”

  A moment longer and the bird flew away, hollering his raspy call.

  Moving down the path, ClaireLee had to raise her voice when she spoke, for the Rushing River’s roar. “This is exciting, Belinda. I’ve never lived next to a river before. At home in Oregon, we have a shallow creek, which dries in the summer.”

  The trail ended at a clearing covered with dead pine needles. ClaireLee marveled at the width of the river’s banks. At a closer examination, the water was more of a vivid gray-green. Disappointed, she wanted to see more than the calm swirls. Where’s the place? Her ears followed the noise, while she placed their sack on a boulder and moved downstream, still ahead of Belinda. Milky foam collected along the steep embankment, and ClaireLee stopped and peered ahead unafraid. Where are the rapids?

  Grabbing ClaireLee’s arm, Belinda waved like she wanted th
em to keep going. Now, the water picked up speed and became solid white. As though it were a monstrous bubbling spring, it raced over rocks like a million birds taking flight.

  In a sudden movement, Belinda snatched ClaireLee’s hand. Racing along the shore, they kept a safe distance. They leaped over logs and switched back and forth around the maze of large rocks. Without notice, the river’s spray doused ClaireLee. Gasping for air, she stopped. She and Belinda moved backward, letting go of each other’s fingers.

  Laughter rose from ClaireLee’s throat, and she pointed.

  There were river boulders as big as ClaireLee’s cabin, and she became giddy at the sight. Water shot off the stones. It spread out at their peak and fell like a white fireworks display. Over and over—slap, splash, spray—the river put on a performance, and ClaireLee’s feet couldn’t help but dance.

  After getting drenched by the foam, the girls returned to the rock where they’d left their snack. As they munched on cookies, ClaireLee hollered above the noise, “Only God could make what we just saw.”

  “Yep, sure,” Belinda said between bites of ginger-snaps.

  After they finished eating, ClaireLee motioned them toward the trail. Walking back to the cabin, ClaireLee filled her lungs with more fresh air. It feels good to explore like in Oregon, to be carefree once again.

  * * *

  * * *

  In the night, ClaireLee was jarred awake. Somebody whimpered and paced from the kitchen sink to the front door. In the glow of the porch light, Mama’s outstretched hands fluttered.

  Instinctively, ClaireLee bolted upright and crawled over Lolly and Belinda. She entered Mama’s bedroom and nudged a snoring Daddy. “Wake up, wake up.”

  He swung his feet and pulled on his pants over his long underwear. “I’m late?”

  “Don’t you hear her?” She shivered in a panic. “It’s Mama.”

  Pulling on his suspenders, Daddy gazed at Mama’s pillow. He flipped on the living room light, and Belinda covered her eyes. Fingers raking through his curls, he said, “Dotty, what are you doing?”

  Shaken by Mama’s stricken face, ClaireLee hid behind Daddy. Oh, dear God, please help us.

  Sobbing, Mama’s words made no sense. “Whhh, plll, I don’t—”

  ClaireLee squeezed her eyes shut. “What’s she saying?”

  “We can’t understand you.” Daddy drew closer to Mama.

  “I. D-d-don’t f-f-feel. Normal.” She pitched herself into Daddy—again, crying like her heart would explode.

  If Mama didn’t stop, ClaireLee’s own heart would burst. She took a backward step and bumped into Belinda. To steady herself, she clutched her friend’s arm. “What’s wrong with Mama?”

  11

  FROM EVERY STORMY WIND THAT BLOWS

  * * *

  With her other hand, Belinda squeezed ClaireLee’s three times.

  “I’m scared.” ClaireLee gripped harder.

  In a gentle motion, Belinda pulled ClaireLee into a one-arm hug. The very act released the pressure within ClaireLee’s ribs and she could breathe. It nestled her into a place safer than the stark reality of Mama’s sobs on Daddy’s chest.

  ClaireLee had lost track of Lolly, but under the table fort where the boys slept one of her siblings whimpered. As Feather wailed—adding to the chaos—Belinda left and returned to hand the baby to ClaireLee. The two friends sat on the living room bed. Waiting. ClaireLee rocked her brother. “Shh, shh, Feather, shh, shh.” Lord, help Mama. Help us all. A sob struggled to free itself from ClaireLee’s throat. She fought it and won. For now.

  Daddy guided Mama to her bed and said to her, “I’ll stay home from work in the morning, so you can rest.”

  Following Daddy, ClaireLee carried Feather in her arms. At Mama’s bedside, she positioned the baby next to Mama on the mattress. He latched on and drank fully, his grunts and gulps louder than Lolly’s muffled cries in the kitchen.

  “I need to step outside for a minute.” Studying Mama and combing his fingers through his bearded chin, Daddy asked ClaireLee, “Will you stay, Claire Bear?”

  Every muscle in ClaireLee shuddered. Don’t leave me alone with her. What if she cries?

  But, ClaireLee nodded, for Daddy’s eyes had filled with tears. I don’t want Daddy to cry, too.

  She caressed Feather’s head as he sighed and suckled, while Mama rested. ClaireLee gathered her courage—wanting to put aside her fear of Mama’s outburst. “You’ll feel better soon, Mama,” she said, as she traced her fingers along the soft lines of Mama’s forehead. “I just know it.”

  A tear streaked and pooled on Mama’s cheekbone.

  ClaireLee’s eyes misted. She could no longer keep her tears to herself. They spilled and sprinkled onto the baby and his blanket. What is happening to our once-happy mama?

  * * *

  * * *

  Much later, the cabin quieted with only the sounds of the river in the background. ClaireLee tossed in the bed next to Lolly, unable to chase away the frightening image of Mama falling to pieces.

  The mattress sunk, and Belinda rolled onto her elbow. “Your ma’s sure sad.”

  Right then, an idea came to ClaireLee. She slipped from under the covers and crawled out. “I’m going to stay by Mama.”

  In the shadow of the porch light, Belinda’s voice came soft. “Good.”

  Feeling her way to her parents’ room, ClaireLee knelt on the hardwood floor at Mama’s side of the bed. How can I make Mama feel better? She considered this. To do this thing, which had never before occurred to her in her thirteen years. What makes Mama glad? What does she love? It came to her, then, fluttering through her thoughts like a whisper.

  Beginning, ClaireLee sang Mama’s favorite song in a quiet soprano voice. “From ev’ry stormy wind that blows, from ev’ry swelling tide of woes, there is a calm, a sure retreat. ’Tis found beneath the mercy seat.” ClaireLee pondered what mercy seat meant, when Mama reached for her hand. They both hung on.

  Long moments passed.

  The floor hurt ClaireLee’s knees, but she snuggled between Mama’s arm and near Feather’s soft spot on his head where his heart pulsed in the darkened room.

  * * *

  * * *

  On Monday before first bell, ClaireLee dragged herself into the classroom like a dark cloud ready to gush rain. How much could she trust Belinda? Would her new friend tell the kids at school about Mama’s crying spell?

  Mrs. Reed pushed back from her paperwork. “How was your weekend, Claire?”

  She stifled a yawn. “Belinda spent the night.”

  “What did you girls do?” Mrs. Reed laid aside her red pen.

  “We made pudding, and Belinda helped me with chores.” I should have made Belinda cross her heart to not breathe a word of what happened.

  “Ah, so nice.” Mrs. Reed’s eyes crinkled with mystery. “Do you own any books, Claire?”

  The question threw her off, and she had trouble organizing her words. After a moment, she recited her list. “Really So Stories, Mother Goose, Childcraft of Fairytales, and Secret of the Old Clock.”

  Bending, Mrs. Reed reached for a handle to the right side of her desk. “How would you like another?”

  The ol’ gray cloud lifted. ClaireLee couldn’t help it—she chuckled. Her dry lips split a smidgen, and she pressed it with a finger. “It would be neat, Mrs. Reed.”

  Mrs. Reed opened the drawer, and her fingers disappeared inside. “Claire, I’d like to give you this.” She thrust out her hand for ClaireLee to take the shiny black book. “A New Testament tells about God’s Son Jesus and what he did for humanity.”

  She inhaled the leather scent, and ClaireLee’s fingers caressed the cover’s texture. Opening the pages, she read the thees and thous. Mrs. Reed hugged her, forcing ClaireLee’s eyes shut. My teacher smells of cocoa, red lipstick.

  “How’s your family doing?” Mrs. Reed let go of ClaireLee. “Your mother?”

  Grabbing a braid, ClaireLee twirled it around a finger. I don’t want to f
ib, but—

  The bell rang, and Mrs. Reed stood to meet the students at the door.

  ClaireLee opened the top of her desk and nestled the Bible inside. School will be good today, if Belinda doesn’t tell anyone about Mama. If she told, the day would be a catastrophe.

  * * *

  * * *

  At first bell, ClaireLee followed Belinda to the tetherball court. The gift of the Bible cheered her, but she still worried by lunchtime the whole school would know about Mama. This is our family’s private business.

  Nibbling on a nail, she stood next to Belinda in the tetherball line. She waited for Belinda to pause in her discourse of how she enjoyed the weekend. I’ll make her swear to keep quiet about Mama.

  Behind ClaireLee, Kaye’s voice interfered with her concerns. “If you win the next game, Monteiro, you better understand I’m real good.”

  She scrunched her face at Kaye and said, “We’ll see.” What a brat. Why do I want to run the other way every time she opens her mouth? After a few games, and when Belinda lost to ClaireLee, Kaye took her spot. “I’m ready to win, Shrimp.”

  I’ll show her. ClaireLee shrugged off her jacket and flung it in the air toward Belinda, who caught it with one hand. “Step all over her, ClaireLee. Beat her.” ClaireLee bobbled her head in response, ready to beat Smarty Britches.

  ClaireLee gripped the ball, pulling the rope taut. Several girls ClaireLee didn’t know well waved. She stood as tall as her four-foot-eight frame allowed and dug in her toes within her patent leathers.

  “Are you scared?” Kaye shouted. “Let’s get this game going.”

  Making a fist, ClaireLee socked the ball, and it zoomed over Kaye’s head. The rope circled the pole twice, but Kaye gained control with a slam of her two fists. Kids hooted. ClaireLee leaped in the air and grunted through clenched teeth. Pow. A blood vessel burst in her hand—ignore it—and she shook off the pain.

 

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