28
Leaving Warm Springs
March 1946
I slowly turned my head and realized I was under an open window. Probably someone was coughing in their sleep.
Where was Junior? Had he worked up his nerve to say no to the plan? Or maybe Mr. Botts had locked him up someplace. That was a ridiculous idea and I knew it. For some reason it made me giggle. I was real nervous so the giggling turned to crying but I knew I couldn’t cry out loud or I might get caught. So I covered my mouth and huddled there on the ground, forcing back the sobs and telling myself to hang on just a little longer.
Then I heard a car and saw its lights coming on the road. I kept myself on the ground until I heard the low sound of the bobwhite call. Then I knew for sure it was Junior. I was too scared to whistle back, but I pulled myself up and stepped out of the darkness. Junior saw me and got out of the car.
“There’s my suitcase,” I whispered. “My canes and a pasteboard box are back there—under the second window.”
I was really scared now because Junior had to leave his car sitting in the road while he went after them. He ducked and ran. He helped me get in the back seat and then he put my canes on the floorboard. He set my suitcase and box in the front seat. “Stay low,” he said. Then he went around the car and slid behind the wheel. He shut the door as quiet as he could. “Keep your head down, Ann Fay.”
“Did you see the night watchman?”
“No. And that has me worried. I’d feel better if I knew he wasn’t around the next corner.”
I sat up.
“Get down!”
“How are you going to get out of here?”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I took a walk around this place earlier. I know where this road goes. We’ll be on the highway in a minute.”
And we were, too. But it took me a long time to let go of Warm Springs. As bad as I wanted to sneak away, that’s how bad I wanted to get back. And as much as I’d wanted Junior to sneak me out, that’s how much I hated the sight of him. My feelings were so tangled up I didn’t know what I felt. Fear and relief and thankfulness and anger swapped places inside of me. I rolled the window down a few inches.
“Ann Fay, are you hot?” asked Junior.
“No,” I said. “I just want to smell Georgia, that’s all. And whatever you do, don’t start singing, Nothing could be finer.”
Junior kept quiet.
The truth was, the smell of pines put me in mind of Mr. Botts, and thinking about him made me ache inside. He was going to be so disappointed in me. What had I just done? I was pretty sure they’d never let me come back again. Even for a visit.
But it wasn’t like I had a choice about this. The thought of Mr. Botts telling the whole ugly story to my doctor was more shameful than me leaving Warm Springs without permission.
I thought about Gavin. He came from a real good family and was popular with everyone, but for some reason he liked little ol’ me! If Junior Bledsoe hadn’t come along with bad news, I could’ve had me a sweetheart. For the first time in my life I was interested in a boy. And then, just like that, it was over!
I hung on to my blue bottle with one hand and my wooden Comfort with the other. And I cried a puddle into the back seat of Junior’s car.
Somewhere along the way my crying turned to dreaming. It was a jumbled dream about me losing some little shiny thing—I don’t even know what it was. I would see it, but when I reached out it would be gone. I must’ve tried a dozen times to pick it up, and every time it disappeared. And I dreamed Junior was driving my daddy’s truck and I was in the back under a pile of hay. Ida and Ellie were there too, and a police car was chasing after us.
I was glad when I finally woke up. I didn’t tell Junior about my dream, but I did look to see if there was any red lights flashing behind us. What if Mr. Botts sent the police to chase us down?
Then I saw that we were in South Carolina and I breathed a little easier. I could tell because we passed a sign that said GAFFNEY 30 MILES.
“Gaffney’s just ahead,” said Junior. “Wanna stop?”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind stretching my legs,” I said. “And going to the bathroom. But nothing’s open at this time of night.”
“No, but…” Whatever he was fixing to say, he must’ve changed his mind.
“But what?”
Even from where I was sitting, I could see Junior’s nose was twitching. So I knew he was nervous. But why would he be nervous?
“I bet,” he said, sounding a little croaky, “if we went to see a JP, he’d let us use his bathroom.”
“A JP?”
“You know—a justice of the peace.”
“Junior, I know what a JP is, but I’m sure not going to wake one up in the middle of the night just to use his bathroom.”
“Of course not. But that’s not the main reason people go to see a JP, now is it?”
Well, I just couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The reason anybody from North Carolina went to see a justice of the peace in Gaffney was to get married. That’s because North Carolina has stricter marriage laws.
Junior Bledsoe knew good and well my daddy wasn’t about to let me get married. And what in the world was he talking to me about marriage for?
“Junior,” I said, “are you out of your ever-loving mind? You don’t want to marry me, and I sure don’t want to marry you!”
I thought he would agree with me. I thought he’d say, Ah, Ann Fay, you know I’m just teasing. But he didn’t. Instead his voice got kind of smallish and he said, “How do you know what I want, Ann Fay? When was the last time you asked me what I want?”
I didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. “Well, okay then,” I said. “What do you want, Junior Bledsoe?”
“I’m old enough to get married. And I could make you a real good husband. It seems like you could use a good man in your family right now.”
I tell you what’s the truth. If I hadn’t been mad at Junior already, I for sure would’ve been angry by this time. For one thing, I didn’t like him bad-mouthing my daddy like that. And for another, the idea of me and him getting married was the most ridiculous thing I ever heard of. And I told him so, too.
That’s when he said, “Ah, you know I was just teasing you, Ann Fay.” But something about the way he said it—the way he swallowed real hard first and how his voice came out real croaky this time—made me wonder. Was he teasing me? Or was Junior Bledsoe trying to tell me something?
He didn’t say a word to me after that. It was about two hours to home, but it felt longer than the rest of the trip and my train ride to Georgia put together. Every now and then I snuck a peek at Junior. His jaw was clamped tight and a muscle in his cheek was twitching.
I started feeling real bad. Why did I always have to go spouting off exactly what I was thinking? Especially with Junior. When I was at Warm Springs, I could be annoyed with Sam the Encyclopedia, but I would never come out and tell him what I thought, the way I did with Junior. It was like Warm Springs brought out a whole other side to me. A better side.
And right now, heading back home, I did not like what I felt coming out of me.
But I thought I had a right to be mad at Junior. Even though I was the one who decided to leave, it felt like he had come down there and jerked me up and dragged me off. And before I was even over the shock of it, he had to drop some crazy idea on me.
I thought how I’d known Junior for as long as I could remember. He was practically family, so I guessed I loved him. But good grief—did that mean I had to like him too?
Part of me wanted to tell him I was sorry. But another part wanted to jump out of the car. So I settled for something in the middle. I huddled in the back seat of the car and felt sorry for him and me both.
There was a faint glow in the sky ahead. I knew it would be almost light when we got home, and Daddy would be getting ready for work. Soon I would have to face him.
And it felt bad—worse than I ever imagined!
2
9
Home
March 1946
I had a real sick feeling when Junior turned onto our road. Part of it was the way you feel from getting up too early in the morning. But another part was a hurting in my tummy and a clamping feeling in my chest. How was I going to explain why I left Warm Springs?
The sight of familiar places should have made me feel better—the Hinkle sisters’ house on the corner, the mailbox by Junior’s lane, and the misty blue of Bakers Mountain straight ahead. And of course, the little colored church on the right. But I didn’t feel better. I laid my head against the window and closed my eyes until I knew Junior had turned in by our mailbox. Then I opened them and there was my house.
It had never been painted. Compared to all the white buildings at Warm Springs, it looked like a shed. Everything about our place looked like it had shrunk while I was gone. The mailbox. The house. Even the driveway looked shorter than I remembered.
What would Gavin think if he saw where I lived? His house probably had gingerbread trim and fancy shutters. Or maybe it was even made of brick.
I sneaked a peek at Junior and saw his nose was twitching again. I figured the least I could do was let him out of facing my family. So I said, “You can just drop me off and go on.”
But Junior wasn’t about to take me up on that idea. “Don’t be ridiculous, Ann Fay. Who’s going to carry your suitcase in?”
“Well, you can just set it on the porch. And my box too. I know you have to go on to work.”
I guess Junior thought that would be cowardly. “No,” he said. “I’m the one who brought you home. And I’m the one who’s going to face the music.”
The light in the kitchen was on. Daddy was probably drinking coffee. And I figured Momma was making pimento cheese sandwiches to go in his lunchbox.
They must’ve seen us drive in because Daddy came to the front door. By then I was getting out of the car and Junior was taking my suitcase and box out of the front seat.
“Ann Fay? Are you paying us a visit?” asked Daddy. And before I got started toward the porch, I felt his arms around me.
So right then, before I could lose my nerve, I said, “Daddy, I’m home to stay.”
Daddy pulled away just a little then and looked at me. He lowered me to the ground and said, “Can you walk now? Why didn’t you tell us?” I could see the happiness in his face, like he thought me and Junior had worked up a big surprise for him. He started to let me go so I could show him.
Just like that, Junior was there to steady me. As if he thought my daddy was about to let me down.
I knew I could stand on my own two feet. I could walk all the way to the porch, even. But there were these two men both wanting to be the one to hold me up. And to be honest, I didn’t know which one of them was doing the best job of it.
I asked Daddy would he help me get to the porch.
“Well, of course,” he said. And he started to pick me up.
“No, just let me hang on your arm.” I showed him how I could walk. Junior was on the other side of me, just in case. I could’ve walked up the steps as long as I hung on to the two of them. But when we got to the porch I let Daddy carry me up and set me in his rocking chair.
Junior brought all my canes and slid them onto the porch and said, “Mr. Honeycutt, sir.” It was the first time I ever heard him call my daddy anything besides Leroy. “I’m sure the people at Warm Springs will take Ann Fay back any time.”
Daddy looked at me then, and behind him I saw Momma coming out the screen door. I saw shades of purple and green around her left eye and I felt that sick feeling in my stomach again.
Seeing her like that gave me the courage to say what had to be said. “I was the one that decided to come home,” I said. “On account of Momma needing me.”
I saw the surprise in her face and then her hand going to cover her mouth. She lowered her eyes so I wouldn’t see her shame, but there was no way I could miss it.
I turned back to Daddy and saw the anger flare up in his eyes. He took a step toward the edge of the porch. Looking down at Junior, he said, real slow and mean-sounding, “Well, who do you think you are, Mr. Bledsoe?”
I, for sure, had never heard Daddy call Junior Mr. Bledsoe. All of a sudden it was like two strangers were talking to each other.
Daddy kept going in that voice. “What do you think you’re doing, meddling in my family’s business?”
Junior straightened up his shoulders. “Sir, I know you’re upset, but I’m just trying to be a good neighbor.”
“Upset!” My daddy was like a roaring lion. “You want to see me upset?”
He leaped off the porch then, and I screamed, “Daddy, you leave Junior alone, you hear me?” I hadn’t been home two minutes and my daddy had already become my enemy.
I thought he was going to tear into Junior Bledsoe. Maybe it was my screaming that stopped him. Or maybe it was the way Junior squared his shoulders and held up the flat of his hand. “Sir,” he said. And that’s all he said. Just “Sir,” like he wanted to show Daddy every bit of respect he could. But that didn’t mean he was going to back off.
Daddy stopped just short of Junior and pointed to his car. “Get. Off. My. Property,” he said. “Or I’ll show you what I can do when I’m upset.”
For just one second I saw Junior glance at my momma, and I knew what that look meant. It meant he’d already seen the damage my daddy could do. But that wasn’t going to stop him from doing the right thing.
“Good morning, Myrtle,” Junior said. And just like that, he got in his car and drove off. That’s when I knew what he meant about this family needing a good man. Junior Bledsoe had just turned nineteen, but he was old enough to know how a man was supposed to behave.
My momma come out on the porch then, and she leaned over and gave me a big hug while I sat in that chair. When she did, I started to cry. I don’t know if I was crying for me or her or my daddy. Probably it was just for the shame of it all.
While we was still hugging I heard Ida and Ellie coming through the door. And Mr. Shoes too, and after that everything was back to the way it always was. The girls asked more questions than I could answer. Momma was back in the house in no time, calling for the twins to come and get their breakfast and make themselves some sandwiches to take to school.
But when they didn’t answer right away, Daddy pitched in. “You heard what your momma said.” The girls moved fast then. It was easy to see how they feared him.
Maybe Daddy was afraid too. Because when Momma said it was time for him to leave for work, he moved just as fast as the girls did. She met him at the door with his lunchbox, and he kissed her quick on the cheek. And then he pulled away from her and I saw something I hadn’t noticed before.
My momma was going to have a baby!
Well, God in heaven must’ve thought I didn’t have enough surprises already. Maybe He thought I needed one more thing to make my head spin and my heart to argue with itself. I mean, how was I supposed to feel about that?
Good, because maybe it would be a boy to take the place of Bobby? Or worried that he was being born into this mess of a family?
After Daddy left, Momma went back into the kitchen to get the girls ready for school. I sat on the porch for a while, hanging on to Mr. Shoes and letting him lick my face while I stared at my suitcase and my pasteboard box of personal items. Junior had put the blue bottle on top of it. I must’ve left it in the car.
While I was sitting there getting used to the idea of a baby brother or sister, I heard Ida calling me. “Okay, Mr. Shoes,” I said, “it looks like we’re on duty.” I picked up the blue bottle and carried it into the house.
Something about it—the smell of Momma’s biscuits mixed with the odor of wood burning in the cookstove—grabbed at me and pulled me in. I couldn’t help but notice how shabby everything looked, though. My momma kept a clean house, but she couldn’t do much about the worn linoleum or the fact that the walls could use a good coat of paint.
In the
kitchen Ida and Ellie were eating breakfast and begging Momma to let them stay home from school. “We haven’t seen Ann Fay for months,” said Ida.
“Yeah,” said Ellie. “I won’t even be able to think about schoolwork for missing her.”
“Ann Fay will be here when you get home,” said Momma. “Right now she needs to catch up on her sleep and you have to go to school. No ifs, ands, or buts.”
Ida stuck out her lower lip and frowned into her cereal. Ellie said, “Can she at least fix my hair?”
Momma was starting to shake her head, but I interrupted before she could even argue. “You don’t think I forgot how, do you?” I said to Ellie.
Momma turned away then and carried her kettle of hot water from the stove to the dishpan. When she poured out some water, the top half of her disappeared for a moment behind a cloud of steam. She seemed glad to turn the girls over to me.
I figured right then that I could get them to do whatever I asked. So I said, “Eat up. The first one done with breakfast gets French braids. The second one gets them tomorrow.”
Well, you should’ve seen them eating after that. Ellie finished first.
“Get the comb,” I said. “And rubber bands. Ida, get dressed while I plait Ellie’s hair.”
Both of the girls did exactly what I told them. The whole time they were asking questions about Warm Springs.
“Have you been saving these questions up?” I asked. “I’d hate to see how many you’d have if I had stayed any longer.”
“Why did you come home?” asked Ellie.
“It just seemed like the right time,” I said.
After the girls were gone, Momma set a bowl of cereal in front of me. Then she started cleaning up the kitchen. “Won’t you sit with me?” I asked. But she kept her back to me while she wiped down the stove.
I didn’t want to ask Momma hard questions about how things were with my daddy. It would feel like trespassing on private property. But I had left Warm Springs for this. So I got right to the point. “Junior said Daddy gave you that black eye.”
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