Pearl nodded. “My people from church will look after the grounds and the good rooms in the house. Will it be all right if I come back here once in a while?”
“Of course. You’re in charge, Pearl. Sela and I are both going to give you our telephone numbers and you call us collect anytime you want. Sela said she might move back here after she completes her real-estate course. What I’m trying to say, Pearl, is that you can count on us.”
“The Lord will bless you both,” Pearl cried. “You look like drowned cats, each one of you.” She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her cotton dress.
“In that case”—Sela grinned as she ripped off her shoes and panty hose—“I see a delicious puddle that’s just crying out for our feet to stomp in it.”
“Is it a mud puddle?” Brie squealed. She had her shoes off and was down the steps in the time it took Pearl to heave herself up and out of the rocker.
They were lunatics, stomping and splashing and throwing mud in every direction.
“You girls stop that now, you hear me?” Pearl shouted.
“We hear you, Pearl,” Sela panted as she pushed Brie hard so she landed in the mud, facedown.
“My oh my, those fine dresses is going to be nothing but rags. Pearl is going to take a switch to your bottoms if you don’t come up on this porch right now.”
“Do you think she means it?” Sela hissed.
“Hey, we’re all grown-up now. Yeah, she means it.” Brie giggled.
“I wish Bode and Callie were here. Bode made the-best mud pies; his always stuck together. Callie always decorated hers. Mine never had any substance—kind of like my life,” Sela said as she sprawled in the mud. “Yours were always thick and hard like a rock. I think that means something.”
“This isn’t about mud pies, is it?” Brie asked, shaping a mass of mud into a round circle.
“No. If we were men, they’d probably say this is where you separate the men from the boys or something like that, but since we’re women, I have no idea what this all means. Maybe that we’re finally coming of age?”
“I think the word is mature. Tragedy does that to people. Did you say my. pies were always rock-hard?” Sela nodded. “Then how do you account for this?” Brie said, slapping Sela in the face with the messy mud pie.
“You girls best be gitting your fannies up on this porch right now or I’m coming to git you,” Pearl bawled.
“In a minute, Pearl,” Sela gasped, as she pushed Brie backward again and then sat on her chest, her victim’s arms flailing in every direction. “Some cop. You didn’t even see it coming.”
“Up yours, Sela. I let you take me because I slammed that pie in your face. We’re even now. What do you think she’ll do to us?”
“She still keeps that willow switch by the back door. God, did that sting! I want to be a kid again. We were, for just a little while.”
“I want yesterday,” Brie said as she struggled to get to her feet.
“Me too, but it’s gone. Maybe tomorrow will be better than yesterday and today. Uh-oh—here she comes and she has that damn switch!” Sela shivered.
“Git in that bathroom, the both of you. It’s going to take me hours, pure hours, to scrub you clean. You hear me, git along!” Pearl said as she whacked the switch first on Sela’s behind and then on Brie’s mud-soaked rear.
“Yes, ma’am,” both women said happily as they raced for the bathroom.
Pearl was as good as her word. She showered them off, lathered them up, one by one, rinsed, scrubbed, rinsed again and again until their skin was red and puckered. “Now, you git yourselves dressed while I make us some supper.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they both chorused again.
“She had a good time,” Sela said when Pearl had bustled off. “For a few minutes she forgot about—”
“Yeah, but my skin is never going to be the same,” Brie grumbled. “Couldn’t you have thought of something a little less painful?”
“I was never the brains of this outfit, and anyway, I didn’t have a whole lot of time to come up with something.”
Brie laughed as she pulled a thin cotton nightshirt over her head. “The last time I was this clean was when we did exactly the same thing and we were nine years old. We got two lickings that day, one for playing in the mud and the other when we tried to peek in the bathroom while she was cleaning up Bode. Oh, how I wish Callie and Bode were here,” Brie wailed.
“The tough California cop has real feelings,” Sela teased gently, putting her arms around her friend. “Go ahead and cry.”
“I can’t; that’s the problem.”
“When it’s time for you to cry, you will. Now, put something on your feet, or Pearl will take a fit.”
Brie pulled on a pair of Callie’s old socks. Sela did the same.
Scrubbed and shiny as new pennies, they looked at one another, then burst into hysterical laughter.
“I have an idea. After dinner let’s play secrets. A real, sharing, three-way secret. Pearl likes to play secrets.”
“Jeez; we haven’t played that since a long, long time ago. Bode always had the best secrets. Sometimes I think he made them up just to get over on us. Callie’s were pretty good, too. Ours were boring.” Brie giggled.
“Do you miss your parents, Brie?”
“In a manner of speaking. My father is working for some oil company in Saudi Arabia. He never calls or writes, even at Christmas. What kind of father is that? It was hard when Mama died. How about you?”
“As you know, my mother drank herself to death. When she died, all I felt was this overwhelming relief. I know that sounds terrible. She wanted to belong, to be somebody. Well, she was, she was a drunk. I have no idea where my father is. I suppose one of these days he’ll show up: But, to answer your question, no, I do not miss them. I always thought of this as home—my real home. That nasty little apartment we lived in was someplace to stay until I could come here. I wasn’t loved or wanted. You weren’t either. And you know what? Nobody loved Callie and Bode either. Just Pearl. She loved us all. It’s amazing how much love she had to give four kids.”
“Supper’s ready,” Pearl called from the kitchen.
The meal was plain and substantial: fried pink ham, grits with pools of melted butter, fresh peas, and sliced tomatoes, along with warmed-over biscuits. For dessert there was peach pie, followed by sweet black coffee.
“This is delicious.” Brie sighed, stuffing her mouth.
“I haven’t eaten this well since I was here the last time,” Sela said, buttering her third roll. “And, to show my appreciation, I’m doing the dishes.”
“Hear, hear,” Brie. said, reaching across the table for a fourth slice of ham. She waved her fork in the air as she tried to make a point. “You need to eat, too, Pearl You’re going to need all the energy you can conjure up in order for you to trek back and forth the way I know you are. You have to eat, three times a day. Promise us.”
“Yes’m,” Pearl said solemnly. They all knew she wouldn’t keep her promise.
“If I was wearing a belt, I’d have to loosen it,” Sela said.
“Me too,” Brie said, fingering the cotton nightshirt.
“Don’t make me no never mind,” Pearl said. “I don’t own a belt. They squeeze the life out of a body. You best be starting on the dishes, Miz Sela, ’cause I know you girls want to play that silly game you’re so fond of, and we cain’t play until the dishes are done. While you’re doing that I’ll be resting my eyes and thinking about which one of my secrets I’ll be ”telling.”
“I hope it’s a good one,” Brie said, pushing back her chair.
The moment Brie hung up the dish towel and Sela rinsed the sink, Pearl said, “It’s stopped raining. That’s a good sign for telling secrets. We cain’t be sweeping the floor now, it’s after sundown. We don’t want to look for bad luck.”
“Of course not,” Brie said, putting the broom back in the closet.
The girls settled themselves at the table while Pearl rumma
ged in the pantry for a fat pink candle that she placed in the center of the table.
“Who goes first?” Brie asked.
“Me, since it was my idea. Let’s make sure we have the rules down pat here. I have to guess your secret or the category it belongs to, right?” Brie nodded. “Then you guess Pearl’s, and she guesses mine. If we don’t get it on the first round we each have to give out a second clue. If no one guesses on three, then we have to tell the secret.”
“Why don’t we just tell the damn secret and be done with it, instead of dragging it out? Pearl looks tired, and I know I am. We also have to call the hospital to check on Callie. We could even go back later.”
“Okay,” Sela said agreeably. Brie looked at her suspiciously. So did Pearl. Sela shrugged. “My secret is, I won three thousand dollars on a horse bet.”
“No kidding! What are you going to do with it?” Brie demanded.
“Give half to Pearl. Pretend I don’t have the other half; maybe I’ll put it in an IRA. Your turn. Tell us already,” Sela demanded.
“I got a special commendation for . . . you know.”
“Brie, that’s wonderful,” Sela said sincerely. “And now the FBI! That’s the big time. I’m proud of you, Brie.”
“Chile, are you sure you want to be doing that? I see what those agents do on the television. You could get yourself killed. Guns that go bang, bang with no stopping. They look like they’re too heavy to hold.”
“I think I can handle it, Pearl.” Brie grinned. “My-biggest worry is, will the men accept me?”
“And why not? You are one smart girl, Brie. Will you get to wear one of those black jackets with the big initials on the back?”
“I guess so. Thanks, Sela, for what you just said.” Brie looked stunned by her friend’s compliment.
“That was a good secret, better than mine. Pearl, it’s your turn.” Sela smiled.
Both girls cupped their hands under their chins waiting for Pearl’s secret, their eyes wide with anticipation.
Pearl rolled her eyes from side to side before one big hand reached up to pat the coronet of braids on top of her head. “I,” she said, “have a three-hole button. A black one.”
“You’re funning with us,” Brie and Sela said in unison, using one of Pearl’s favorite expressions.
“I’m truly not.” She folded her hands in front of her as if to say, “Top this!”
“Can we see it?” Brie asked, excitement ringing in her voice.
“Is it flat or does it have a ridge?” Sela inquired breathlessly.
When they were children, Pearl had regaled them with her old beliefs, and the three-holed black button was the one that generated the most interest. The “three-holer,” as Bode called it, was a cure for just about everything in the world. It could cure snakebite, bring happiness, bring love, cause death, make the birds fly-anything a person wanted. Provided, when tossed with thirty-nine other buttons, it fell between four white ones. Out of Pearl’s hearing, Bode said you had to keep throwing the buttons until you got them to come out the way you wanted them. Once, he said, Pearl tossed the buttons for two whole days before they came out the way she wanted them to, but the truth was, according to Bode, you had to cheat to get the three-holer next to four white buttons. It didn’t work if the white buttons only had two holes.
“Ridge on one side, flat on other.” Pearl beamed.
“Does anyone but us know?”
“Bode and Callie knows I gave my mama’s button to Hester over at the church when I came on my own. My mama’s button wouldn’t work for anyone but her. Onliest person my button works for is me and Miz Callie ’cause I snipped the button from her papa’s suit when he laid daid in his box.”
Neither girl truly believed in Pearl’s rituals, but humored her because it meant so much to her. Now, in spite of herself, Brie asked, “Did you . . . you know, toss the buttons at the hospital? Will Callie be okay?”
“I sprinkled them in my lap four times. They didn’t come out right. It’s a worry on my shoulder,” Pearl confessed.
“But you said it had to be done at noon when the Angelus rang,” Sela remembered. “You said it had to be done three times and the Angelus had to be ringing.”
“Bless you chile, I did say that! Now how could old Pearl be forgetting something so important? I cain’t say it don’t make no never mind ’cause it does. Tomorrow I’ll do it again.”
“You win, Pearl. Yours is the best secret.”
“I know,” Pearl said smugly. “Ain’t nobody at the church knows ’cepting Hester, who has a three-holed button and I give it to her, so her good luck will come my way, too.”
Brie nodded sagely. “I’m going to call the hospital and see how Callie is doing.”
Moments later, Brie said, “She’s the same. Wyn is still there, and he. goes to see her on the hour for five minutes.”
Pearl’s eyes puddled up. “I should be there with my baby. No one is sitting by her, no one is holding her hand. It isn’t right.”
“Tomorrow is another day, Pearl,” Sela said gently. “Other specialists are coming; everything is being done. Wyn is seeing to that, thank God.”
“Would he be doing all this if he knew my baby wasn’t going to marry him?”
Sela shrugged.
“We don’t know the answer to that, Pearl,” Brie said.
“I don’t claim to know about money and fy-nances. What’s going to happen to my chile when the in-surance won’t pay any more? What will the hospital do?”
“Well, Pearl, I don’t think we should worry about that for now. Let’s hope and pray Callie comes out of her coma before that happens. There are programs that help people. Funds . . .” Sela’s voice trailed off lamely. “Medicaid.”
“We’ll help all we can,” Brie said. “Don’t worry about that, Pearl, it’s a long way off. In the meantime we can check everything out before we leave.”
“Bless you girls. What would I be doing without you?” Pearl cried.
As one they smothered her with kisses and hugs and dried her watery eyes with the hems of their nightshirts.
Pearl allowed herself to be led to her room, permitted herself to be tucked in, smiled when she was kissed and told to dream sweet dreams.
“Don’t you dare get out of this bed until I ring the breakfast bell,” Brie said sternly.
“Yes’m,” Pearl said, her eyes closing wearily.
“Let’s go out by the barn and have a cigarette,” Sela said quietly. “We really need to talk.”
The night was like warm, soft velvet, with only a crescent moon to light the way. Everything was clean-smelling after the heavy rain. The tall pines gave off a pungent scent that was both heady and tranquil. The monster oaks, the branches heavy and wet from the rain, bowed with the weight of the Spanish moss hanging like huge silvery garlands in the ebony night.
“This is one of the things I miss most about living up North. I love these old trees and the Spanish moss, don’t you?” Sela said as she tweaked her fingers at a clump that was trailing almost to the ground.
“You’ve been away too long, Sela,” Brie said, pulling her back from the moss. “Pearl said that stuff is full of birdlice.”
“Yuck,” Sela sputtered as she scampered away from the tree.
“What is it you want to talk about?” Brie asked, sitting down on an upended milk box.
“Stuff. Things. I want to know what you think about the accident and why you felt you had to go to the police station.”
“It’s the cop in me. You never turn it off. Callie’s driven that road thousands of times. When you live someplace and there are danger spots, you learn to live with them and respect them. Callie knew all about that curve: we used to creep around it. It’s like the people who live on Carroll Court—they know they have to cross it, dead center. They respect it. Nor is the curve all that far from the Judge’s house. I just don’t see Callie laying it all on Wyn the moment she got in the car. In my mind that rules out them arguing. Wyn said,
according to the police report, that he was dozing because he’d had too much to drink. That means Callie was paying attention. Even if her mind wandered, say to Bode and how he’d split, she’d still be paying attention to the road. Mrs. Seagreave, according to Wyn, ran the stop sign. How did he know that if he was dozing? Does a woman who has lived in the same area since she was born run a stop sign with a baby in the front seat? There’s no one to speak up for Mrs. Seagreave. Callie can’t tell us what happened. So, all we have is Wyn’s version, and I’m not saying it didn’t happen the way he said it did. I’m saying, to me, it doesn’t compute.”
“Are you going to kick up a fuss?” Sela asked.
“Guess not.”
“But you aren’t going to leave it alone either, are you?”
“Nope. Callie was . . . is . . . so conscientious. She never speeds, at least to my knowledge. What I’m trying to say is, she’s one of those people who lives by the book. At least, that’s how I perceive her.”
“Which means what?”
“I want to understand. I need to understand.”
“Just tell me what it is you want me to do, and I’ll do it,” Sela said. She flicked her cigarette in the air and watched a shower of sparks cascade downward. Brie walked over and crushed it out. She picked up the butt and dropped it in the milk box.
“Do you remember,” Sela said softly, “how when we used to sleep over, Pearl would let us play out here till nine-thirty or so? We played hide-and-seek or red light, green light. Bode always caught us. We’d dig for worms with that old lantern for light, catch the fireflies, hide in the barn, and romp in the straw. Everything smelled so wonderful back then, kind of the way it smells tonight. It’s funny, isn’t it, Brie, that we’re standing here and the two people who really belong here aren’t with us. I wonder if that means something?”
“It means we’re having a nostalgia attack of the ‘do you remembers,’ ” Brie said quietly.
“We sort of belong. God, I want so bad to belong. Pearl makes it seem like we do. Is that wrong of me?”
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