Cottonwood Whispers

by Jennifer Erin Valent

  Even through the window, I could hear Momma sigh. “Honey, listen. If you go actin’ crazylike over natural things, Jessilyn is gonna feel all tied up inside. She ain’t doin’ nothin’ wrong. She’s just growin’ up. And our job as her momma and daddy is to help her do it, not keep her from doin’ it. You hear?”

  It was Daddy’s turn to sigh, and though I couldn’t see him, I could picture him rubbing the back of his neck and staring at his feet during the long silence that followed. That was what he always did when he was thinking about something he didn’t like to think about. Especially when he thought he might be wrong.

  I didn’t hear either of them say another word. Instead, I heard their footsteps go across the porch, heard the screen door clatter as it closed behind them. Luke wasn’t back by the time they came in. Momma gave me a soft smile when she caught my sad expression.

  Daddy just looked around the room sheepishly. “Where’s the boy?”

  “The bathroom,” Gemma answered for me.

  “I’m right here,” Luke corrected as he came back into the kitchen. “You need me, sir?”

  “Well now, I . . . I got me some explainin’ to do. I s’pose I just ain’t used to my girl growin’ up. I didn’t mean to make nobody feel bad.” Daddy came to me and placed his big hand on my head. “I didn’t mean nothin’ by it, baby. Don’t you go lettin’ my worryin’ bother you none. It’s just somethin’ daddies do sometimes.”

  “I didn’t mean to go upsettin’ nobody,” Luke explained. “I hope you don’t think that.”

  “Son, don’t go makin’ me feel worse than I already do. I got me a belly full of crow as it is, and you feelin’ bad will only make me feel fuller. You didn’t do nothin’ wrong, and I’m sorry I made you feel you did.”

  Daddy held out his hand for a solid shake, but even though the air had lightened a bit, some damage had already been done. We were all a little on edge for the rest of that evening, and it wasn’t any less awkward when I walked Luke to the edge of the road.

  “Sorry ’bout all that,” I told him. “You know Daddy. . . .”

  “Oh, sure . . . I know. He didn’t mean nothin’.”

  But I could see by his face, and by the distance he kept between us, that Luke was feeling strange being with me now. Whether Daddy had meant to or not, he had brought to life a situation that hadn’t existed before. Luke had never seemed to see me as more than a kid sister, but Daddy’s reaction to his gift had, for the first time, identified me as something else entirely. Now the whole possibility hung in the air like the wet heat of that June evening, and there was a wall between us that I’d never known before.

  “Well,” I began tentatively, “thanks, anyway. I really like it.”

  He nodded at me and tipped his hat. “I’ll see you later, Jessie,” he said, and then he moved off with that loping gait of his.

  I watched him until he rounded the corner out of sight, then went back up the walk and plopped down on the porch steps, burying my face in my hands. I heard the screen door open, and I could tell by the pace of the footsteps that it was Gemma.

  “He ain’t gonna be the same around me no more,” I said, my voice muffled.

  She sat down next to me. “Thought you’d like that. Ain’t you always wanted him to see you different?”

  “Not like this. Now he feels all funny, like he can’t be himself around me or nothin’. I can’t believe my daddy.”

  “Didn’t matter if your daddy did it or not, Jessie,” she said. “It was bound to come up someday.”

  “But I don’t want things to change for me and Luke.”

  “Yes, you do. You always have.” She nudged my knee with her own. “Ain’t no changes that ever come easy. But changin’s got to happen, no matter.”

  I knew she was right, but it didn’t make that funny feeling in my stomach go away. I laid my head on her shoulder and tried not to think about it. But that wasn’t any good. Nearly everything I thought about in those days had at least a little piece to do with Luke.

  Chapter 3

  Sunday afternoon I was lying on my bed reading a book, so engrossed in it that I only realized Gemma was changing her clothes when she asked me to button her up.

  “Where are you headin’?” I asked as I tossed the book aside and reached to help her.

  “Work, of course. Where else do I wear this old muslin?”

  “You don’t work on Sundays.”

  “I do today. It’s the Hadleys’ anniversary, and they’re havin’ a big party.”

  “Momma know about this? She don’t like nobody workin’ on the Lord’s Day.”

  “She says it’s okay just this once.”

  “How late are you gonna be there?”

  “Till around eight, I guess.”

  “You’re gonna miss fried chicken night,” I told her solemnly.

  “I’ll get somethin’ from the kitchen at the Hadleys’.”

  I promised Gemma I’d save her a chicken wing, but I wasn’t the least bit happy that she wouldn’t be eating it with me. “I’m gonna go pack you up a snack to take with you. Them Hadleys got to be too stingy to give food to the help. You’re lookin’ skinnier’n usual these days.”

  “They feed us well enough, Jessie.”

  “Well, I’m packin’ it anyways,” I said over my shoulder on my way out. “Things are liable to get busy there and I don’t want you forgettin’ to eat, you hear?”

  I packed Gemma a sack with muffins and two boiled eggs, then went outside to sit on the porch and wait for her, setting the sack on the swing beside me. It had been five minutes of waiting and wondering what in tarnation Gemma could be doing to dawdle so long when a fancy black car sped up into our driveway.

  “Joel Hadley!” I spat out like a curse word. “What’s he doin’ here?”

  “Hey there, Jessilyn,” he called through the open window without any true kindness in his words. “Gemma ready for work?”

  I wrinkled my nose. Since when did Joel Hadley start keeping tabs on Gemma?

  I got up from my seat on the porch and ambled over to his car with my hands in my pockets, inspecting his expression. “What d’you want to know for? She’ll make it to work on time, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “I’m sure she will,” he said with exaggerated charm, though he was having to put on a better show than usual, I could see. Joel Hadley didn’t like me any better than he liked a toothache, and his eyes confirmed it even if his smile didn’t. “Gemma’s always on time, no doubt.”

  “Well then, what do you want to know for?”

  “I figured on givin’ her a ride, is all. Ain’t no reason for her to walk the whole long way with me passin’ by here anyhow.”

  I eyed him up one side and down the other, and my inspection did nothing but reaffirm the fact that I didn’t trust him one bit. There wasn’t one single Hadley who would give a ride to a colored girl.

  “Joel Hadley, you got somethin’ funny up your sleeve?” I asked him bluntly.

  “What are you talkin’ about?”

  “There ain’t never been no time before when you’ve asked to give Gemma a ride. Seems to me most times you’re up to somethin’, anyway. Ain’t no reason for this time to be different.”

  His face got a little red, and his charm began to melt away to reveal the Joel Hadley I knew. “Now, Jessilyn, why don’t you just go on in and tell Gemma I’m here for her?” he asked, his tone restrained. “I ain’t got time to sit here chitchattin’ with you. Go do somethin’ useful for a change.”

  “I ain’t lettin’ Gemma in no automobile with you. No sir. You’re about as trustworthy as a snake.”

  “You got a tongue on you, Jessilyn,” he barked. “Somebody’s gonna clip it out one day, you keep that up.”

  “Jessie,” Gemma called from the porch, “you go on back inside.”

  I bristled at her tone and turned to stare at her in defiance. I took several steps toward the porch. “Since when did you become my momma? You ain’t got no
right to order me around.”

  “And you ain’t got no right to go makin’ nasty comments to my boss. You want to get me fired?”

  “Way I figure it, that ain’t such a bad idea. I don’t trust them Hadleys. Not a one. And definitely not that one.”

  She started to skirt past me, but I grabbed her arm. “You can’t be thinkin’ of gettin’ in there with him.”

  “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with savin’ my feet from the walk.”

  “There is if you put yourself in trouble for it.”

  “There ain’t no trouble,” she hissed back at me. “He’s just givin’ me a ride.”

  “Since when do rich white men give rides to colored girls, Gemma? You tell me that.”

  She stood there for a long moment, her eyes averted from mine, before she yanked her arm free. “I’m gonna be late,” she muttered.

  “I’m gettin’ Daddy. He’ll never let you go.”

  “Your momma and daddy are on their Sunday drive, and you know it.”

  I stood there on that porch helplessly and watched Joel nod at Gemma as she approached him. He got out and, like a perfect Southern gentleman, opened the door for her.

  Only it was the back door, not the front.

  Gemma paused for a minute, and I could tell by her body language that Joel’s actions had taken her by surprise and cut her to the quick. But after a moment’s hesitation she forced a smile and climbed quickly inside.

  My cheeks blazed at the idea of Joel Hadley shoving my Gemma in the backseat like we shoved our dog, Duke, into the truck bed. “At least she’s further away from him back there,” I growled to myself as they drove off.

  I was still stewing when Luke Talley walked up a few minutes later, minus his usual cheerful whistle. The absence of those tunes made the air between us seem heavy, just as it had the night before, but the thought of Gemma sitting in Joel Hadley’s backseat pushed my worries about Luke aside.

  When he caught sight of me and my sour face, he must’ve known right off there was trouble. “You look snakebit, Jessilyn. What’s wrong?”

  “Gemma! You know she got picked up in a fancy automobile by Joel Hadley?”

  “Joel Hadley? What in the world for?”

  “He says he was drivin’ by and stopped to give her a ride to save her the walk to his house.”

  Luke leaned his back against the porch rail and frowned. “Ain’t no way a Hadley would go givin’ rides to colored girls.”

  “That’s just what I said.”

  “What’d your daddy say about that?”

  “He ain’t home. Nobody’s home but me.”

  Luke looked off down the road like he could see Joel and Gemma even though they were out of sight. “I don’t like it. Somethin’ ain’t right about that.”

  “I’m glad to hear I ain’t the only one seein’ sense.” I crossed my arms. “You know what I’m goin’ to do? I’m goin’ to ring them up in a few minutes and make sure Gemma got there; that’s what I’m goin’ to do.”

  “That’s a fine idea, Jessie. We ought to check up on her.” He sat down in the porch swing and chomped a piece of tall grass. “I don’t like that Joel Hadley. He ain’t to be trusted, so I see it.”

  Now that I had some peace about Gemma, my butterflies from last night woke up and started flying around their home in the pit of my stomach. I sat gingerly next to Luke, leaving plenty of space between us. “You see? It’s no wonder we’re friends, seein’ as how we look at things the same way most times.”

  Luke tapped me on my nose. “There you go, Jessie. We’ve got somethin’ special, you and me.”

  My heart started racing, and suddenly I wasn’t thinking about Gemma at all anymore. “You think we got somethin’ special?” I asked wonderingly.

  He looked away quickly, clearing his throat like he wished he could swallow those words back up. “Well, Jessie . . . what I mean is . . . seems to me I remember savin’ your life in the swimmin’ hole first day we met.”

  “I remember.”

  “So the way I figure it, when a man saves a girl’s life . . . well then, they got a special kinship, like. Ain’t nothin’ gonna change that.”

  There was that word girl again. It seemed these days I could go from girl to woman and back to girl again faster than I could blink. We sat there for a minute before I ventured to speak. “Luke?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You sayin’ we’ll be together forever?”

  “Well . . .” He gave the porch rail a shove with his feet and set us swinging. “That depends. Who’s to say you won’t fall in love with some passerby, and he’ll marry you and take you off—”

  “I ain’t marryin’ no passerby,” I spluttered, figuring Luke Talley ought to know by now that I was marrying him someday.

  “All right,” he said with a chuckle. “Don’t go gettin’ your dander up. I was just sayin’ . . .”

  “Well, don’t say it. I ain’t leavin’ to marry some stranger.”

  “Yes ma’am!” My familiar temper was a balm for our discomfort, and Luke’s mask of indifference slipped off his face just a bit. “That suits me just fine, Jessilyn. I ain’t gonna complain one bit about you stickin’ around.”

  I looked away from him so he wouldn’t see me trying not to smile and sat there in silence for some minutes, wallowing in the joy of his words. He’d been through enough with my family in the past four years to become like one of our own, and I meant to make it official before I turned twenty-one. I already had it all planned out. All I needed now was to convince Luke and my daddy of the same thing. I was mulling over names for our first child when I remembered my promise to phone the Hadleys’, and I hopped up quickly, setting the swing to wobbling. “Gotta call Gemma,” I called over my shoulder on the way inside.

  “Gemma Teague?” the woman on the other end repeated when I asked to speak to her. “I ain’t seen her all day.”

  I knew it was Miss Taffy I was talking to. She was a large colored woman who had a bold tongue and an impatient nature. People didn’t push Miss Taffy’s buttons without getting their ears boxed, and I didn’t feel like hearing her yell at me just then. But I pressed her a little bit more.

  “She wasn’t supposed to be there until now, though, Miss Taffy. I was just makin’ sure she got there safe.”

  “Makin’ sure she got here safe?” she repeated. “Land’s sake, ain’t you white folk got better things to do than checkin’ up on people every time they leave the house?” Without warning, I heard her drop the telephone and walk off with loud, clomping footsteps. “You seen Gemma Teague?” I heard her ask someone. “What d’you mean, ‘huh’? I said, you seen Gemma Teague? . . . Speak up louder, girl! Ain’t a body two inches away from you could hear what you’re sayin’ in that little mouse voice of yours.” Then I heard her say, “Uh-huh. Well, get on back to work. You waitin’ for me to give you a trophy or somethin’?”

  Luke pushed the door open and looked at me questioningly.

  I shrugged in response. “I’m waitin’ on Miss Taffy,” I whispered. “I think she near about beat information out of one of her kitchen help.”

  He smiled widely and leaned against the doorjamb.

  “You there, Jessilyn Lassiter?” Miss Taffy called into the phone. I leaped back a little as her booming voice bounced off my ear.

  “Yes’m.”

  “Winnie says she done seen her get in no more’n a minute ago. Makes me wonder why she ain’t checked in with me yet, then. Don’t everybody know they’s supposed to check in with Miss Taffy first thing they get here? Lord, give me patience with these ornery workers I got to put up with day in and day out.”

  That was the last thing I heard from Miss Taffy because she hung up the phone then without so much as a “good evenin’.”

  I hung up and ambled toward Luke, chewing my lip thoughtfully. “She says Gemma’s there. Though she ain’t seen her herself, and she’ll probably lay into Gemma for not lookin’ in on her right off. Hope I didn’t get her in trouble.”<
br />
  “You was just checkin’ in ’cause you were concerned, is all. Ain’t no reason to worry.”

  I looked at the clock and sighed. “Guess I’ll get some supper started. Ain’t got no idea what’s keepin’ Momma and Daddy.”

  I sent Luke out to pick some tomatoes, and I watched through the kitchen window as he walked by, thinking of a day when I’d be making dinner for him every evening.

  “Someday,” I murmured. “Someday, Luke Talley. You just wait.”

  Momma and Daddy came home a few minutes later, and Momma was full of apologies about running late.

  “I’ll tell you, Miss Jessilyn,” she rattled on as she pulled pans out of the cabinets. “Bart Tatum passed us on the road to home, and don’t you know he had to stop us to say hey? That man can talk a body’s ear off. Here I am thinkin’ I’ve got to get this chicken on, so I tell him so, and what do you think he does? He decides it’s a fine time to tell us about his eatin’ habits, every detail. ‘Ain’t no way to eat chicken but boiled,’ he says. Boiled! And you can’t have chicken without potatoes, of course, so he proceeds to give me his wife’s recipes for hashed potatoes, mashed potatoes, fried potatoes . . . Ain’t got enough hours in a day for all the ways that man eats his potatoes. And as if I don’t know such things. I been cookin’ since I could reach a stove.”

  All the while, I stood at the kitchen window, mindlessly mixing up the corn bread batter.

  “You’re awfully quiet, Jessilyn,” Momma said, though she hadn’t left me much room to fit any words in. “You got things on your mind?”

  “Just thinkin’ about Gemma,” I murmured.

  “What about her?”

  I shrugged, deciding I didn’t want to say much about Joel Hadley just then. “I was wonderin’ how she likes her work.”

  “She ain’t said much about it, it seems. I s’pose she likes it fine.” Momma plopped some chicken into the hot oil and let the popping and crackling settle down before she asked, “You wonderin’ for some particular reason?”

  “I’ve been thinkin’ about takin’ a job myself, is all.”

  “Is that so? Whereabouts?”

  “Don’t know. I just got to thinkin’ about it lately. Thought I’d make a little extra money this summer so I can buy some things when I want to. That’s all. Maybe I could get a little work at the grocery store or somethin’.”