by Nancy Bell
I turned to Biggie. “What do you reckon that is?”
She didn’t answer, just shook her head as if to say I should keep quiet about it.
The sun was setting red over the trees when we finished eating.
“Red sun at night, sailor’s delight,” Monica said. “It’s gonna be a pretty day tomorrow, Miss Biggie.”
“You’re right,” Biggie said. “How about the three of us taking a little walk while there’s still some daylight?”
We walked around the corrals and through the barn, stopping to talk to the horses as they hung their heads over their stalls.
“Maybe I’ll ask to have a ride tomorrow,” Biggie said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve sat a horse.”
“Would you really, Miss Biggie?” Monica said. “I’d give a hundred dollar bill to see that.”
“If you had it,” I said.
“It was just a figure of speech. J.R., don’t you know what a figure of speech is?”
“Yeah, right. Here’s the back door.” I pulled open the kitchen door and the others followed me in.
Josefina was standing at the sink wiping it out with a clean towel.
“Josefina, this is my grandmother, Biggie, and this is Monica Sontag.” I hoped Biggie noticed I remembered my manners.
”Hay, Madre de Dios, and me looking such a mess.” Josefina smoothed her salt-and-pepper hair. “Oh well, sit and have some hot chocolate with me. I’ve just taken Señor Rex’s in to him.”
We drank delicious hot chocolate out of Mexican mugs while Biggie asked Josefina questions. She can’t help it. It’s just Biggie’s nature to be as curious as a raccoon in a campground.
“Have you been with Mr. Rex long?”
“Me? Not Mr. Rex. I have been with Miss Laura almost all her life. You see, she was born in Monterrey, Mexico, my hometown. I came to the family when my Laura was a baby after her mother died in an automobile accident. Her father was a busy man and left her raising to me.”
“And you’ve been with her ever since?” Monica’s mouth dropped open.
“Oh no, nina. I was only a girl when I came to tend to Laura when she was born. Her parents were Anglos living in Mexico. Her father had cattle ranches and oil interests there.” Josefina refilled our cocoa mugs then sat down at the table with us. “She was so beautiful with her golden ringlets and blue eyes. People would stop and stare and want to touch her when I took her out to the market. And charming! Ay, my baby never got into trouble. When she would steal money from her papa’s wallet to buy trinkets at the market, her papa would try to be angry with her.” She laughed. “But he never could. She would admit her sins in such a sweet and appealing manner that nobody could bear to punish her. And truly, she meant no harm. Most times, with tears in her eyes, she would give the trinkets to some poor child on the streets. She could not bear to see a single person in need. She would say to me, ‘Mamá, why do we have so much when they have so little?’” Josefina smiled at the memory. “It hurt her, you see. When my baby reached thirteen, her papa moved with her back to the States. I thought I would die of a broken heart, but I knew he was doing what he must. Soon after, I married. Sadly, I never had any children. Oh, I had a good life in Mexico. But I never forgot my baby, Laura, the child of my heart. No matter that I didn’t give birth to her. She is an angel from God!”
“But Laura told us about having a mother and sisters,” Biggie said.
“Yes. Her papa remarried a very fine lady who had three girls of her own. It was a blessing. Now my little one had a real family!”
“So how did you two get back together?” Biggie drained her cocoa cup and set it on the table.
Josefina took our mugs and set them in the sink. “We never lost touch, you see. Letters all the time, and once after college she came to see me in Monterrey. I came to her when she decided to open this place. My baby hasn’t changed a bit. She still believes she can save the world.”
“What do you think about Grace Higgins?” Biggie asked.
“That one? Manflora! She is not of our sort. I cry that my baby trusts her so.”
“Well.” Biggie stood up. “It’s time for bed.”
I had the room next door to Biggie, and Monica was next to me with a connecting bathroom. I rapped on her door.
“Where’ve you been?” she asked, opening the door.
“In the kitchen talking to Josefina.”
“Well, you should have been with me. I went to find Misty, and we rode horses.”
“In the dark?”
“No, silly.” She flopped down on the bed. She was wearing an old tee shirt and big fuzzy slippers. “We rode in the ring. It’s lighted. Boy, that Misty can jump! She’s promised to teach me someday.”
“Yeah, well, I gotta go to bed.”
“Okay.” She crawled under the covers. “Turn the light out, will you?”
I decided to take a hot bath before bed. I locked the door on Monica’s side of the bathroom and started running the tub while I undressed. I was just about to step in when I heard a rap on the bathroom door.
“J.R.,” Monica hissed, “come here, quick!”
“I’m undressed,” I said.
“Well, get your clothes on. This is good. Hurry!”
I put my clothes back on, unlocked the door, and slipped into her room.
“Shhh.” She put her finger to her mouth. “Listen!” She was sitting on the floor with her ear to the wall. “They’re having a big fight.”
I joined her. “Who is it?” I hissed.
“It’s Babe and her husband. Now shut up and listen.”
“… always were a slut,” I heard. It was Rob Parish.
“Yeah, well being married to a wimp like you would drive any woman to it. You’re not a man, you’re a goddamn calculator. You’ve got numbers where your heart ought to be.”
“It’s called brains, bitch. Something you wouldn’t know anything about.”
Monica put her hands over her mouth to suppress the giggles.
“I don’t need brains, Einstein, I’ve got looks— and personality.”
We heard a crash, like a glass breaking.
“Stop it! Let go, you’re hurting me.”
“Then sit down and listen. I don’t give a damn if you chase after Hamp Caldwell all day long, but I promise you one thing, sister. You are not going to cut me out of my share of the old man’s money. And speaking of that, we’ve got bigger problems than your overblown libido.”
“What’s that?” Monica whispered.
“Shhh! Listen!”
“Yeah, what?”
“Number one, the way that spacey stepmother of yours is spending the money, that’s what. She’s going to spend every damn dime on this idiotic fat farm. Number two, in case you hadn’t noticed, your papa’s now found himself a long-lost grandson. I heard him talking to Polk this afternoon.”
“About what?”
“About changing his will, that’s what.”
“What can we do?”
“Here’s the plan….”
Now that they weren’t shouting at each other anymore, their voices grew fainter. Monica ran to the bathroom and came back with a glass. She held it against the wall and pressed her ear to it. She shook her head. “Doesn’t help,” she said. “You want to try?”
I took the glass and listened, but it was no use. They must have moved away from the wall.
“What do you think it means?” I said.
“I think it means you need to tell Miss Biggie about this first thing in the morning. J.R., you could be in danger!”
10
I declare,” Mrs. Muckleroy said at breakfast. “I can’t wait to get home. I want to change into fresh clothes. I feel like a hobo wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday.”
I looked at her dress, which must have cost a bunch.
“Oh, I don’t mind that, but I do want to get back to town and see what damage the tornado’s done.” Miss Julia speared a slice of ham off the platter as Biggie passed
it to her. “Umm, this looks like real ham, not that stuff you get in the grocery store nowadays.”
“Where is the family?” Mrs. Muckleroy asked.
Abner spoke from the head of the table. “They’re all late sleepers. I’d be happy to take you ladies— and young people— for a tour of the ranch before you leave.”
“That would be great,” Biggie said. “Rosebud, are the roads cleared?”
Rosebud nodded. “Got it on the radio this morning. We can leave anytime you’re ready.”
“Excellent.” Biggie drained her coffee cup. “Then we’d best have our tour, if you can go now, Abner.”
“I’ll pass,” Mrs. Muckleroy said. “I think I’ll just relax on the patio with my second cup of coffee.”
“I’ll join you, Ruby,” said Miss Julia.
“Then, we’re off.” Abner scraped his chair back from the table.
Monica and I followed Biggie and the foreman out the door.
“Have you told her yet?” Monica whispered.
“Haven’t had a chance.”
“The ranch is near four thousand acres.” Abner swept his arm in a circle around him. “But nearly half has gone back to woods. We’re clearing and planting around seventy-five acres a year. Rex is not much interested; but the way I see it, the way the money’s going out around here, the quicker I can make this into a profitable operation, the better.”
“I hear ranchers are going broke all over the place,” Biggie said.
“That’s right. You have to have a gimmick: Mine is in exotics.”
“Exotics?”
“Yeah, cattle. See that bull over there. He’s a Limosin. French. We sell his semen to breeders.”
“My, he’s huge.”
“Right. I’ve got four more on order. We also cross-breed him with our registered polled Herefords. The calves make mighty fine beef cattle. Now over here we have our horse barn.” We followed him in.
“Beautiful horses,” Biggie said. “What are they?”
“Arabians. We breed those, too. Hamp and his daughter train them for sale. Ah, here comes Ol’ Hamp now with his pretty little daughter.”
Abner introduced Hamp and Misty to Biggie.
“I used to ride all the time as a girl.” Biggie stroked the soft nose of one of the horses.
“How about a ride this morning?” Hamp lounged against a stall.
“I’m not dressed for it,” Biggie said. She looked like she wished she were.
“No problem.” Hamp led us into the tack room and opened a closet. “We’ve got plenty of riding clothes. How about these? You’re about Babe’s size, I’ll bet.” He held up a pair of riding britches.
“Well…”
“I want to ride, too,” Monica said.
“That settles it then. J.R.?”
I wasn’t about to make a fool of myself. I’d seen those dinky little saddles.
“I’ll just watch,” I said.
Misty and I stood at the rail as Hamp and Abner led the horses carrying Biggie and Monica into the ring.
“Your grandmother seats a horse like she was born to ride,” Misty said.
“I guess,” I said, surprised.
Misty giggled. “Can’t say the same for your friend, though.” Monica was all over that saddle as the horse trotted around the ring.
We watched as Biggie reined her horse to a stop and spoke briefly to Hamp, who nodded his head. I like to have swallowed my tongue when I saw what happened next. Hamp and Abner pulled a barricade into the pen and set it up across the riding path.
“She’s going to jump,” Misty said.
I wanted to cover my eyes but didn’t want Misty to think I was a sissy. Biggie turned her horse and trotted to the end of the ring. She nudged him with her heels. The horse sped toward the barricade. My heart pounded as my grandmother lowered herself across the horse’s neck and sailed over the barrier. Monica, straddling her horse on the sidelines, stared openmouthed while Biggie went around again.
Later, after the ride was over, Monica couldn’t stop talking about it. “Miss Biggie, that was the awesomist thing I ever saw. Where’d you learn to do that?”
“On the farm where you live— when I was a girl.” Biggie smiled at Monica.
“You reckon I could learn?”
“Maybe,” Biggie said. “Maybe I’ll get you and J.R. a horse and teach you myself.”
Suddenly, we heard the pounding of hooves as Laura rode past us. She was a good distance away and never saw us. “My, oh my, she sits a horse well,” Biggie said.
“Sure does. She’s a natural.” Abner looked admiringly at Laura as she galloped away.
“Do you think she’s good for Rex?” Biggie asked.
“Yes’m, I do. She’ll do just about anything to make him happy— anything but give up this camp, that is.”
“And does that make Rex unhappy?”
“No, I don’t think so. Of course, he’s past caring about all the money being spent. That’s left for the rest of us to worry about. All in all, though, she’s a good kid. She’s got some mighty peculiar ideas though.”
“Such as?”
“Such as all this New Agey stuff she’s gone off her head about. Bunch of bull, if you was to ask me, which nobody does, of course.”
Just then, Hamp whistled from the barn. He waved his arms at Abner. “Phone call!” he shouted.
“Be back pronto,” Abner said, and hobbled off toward the barn. Biggie took a seat on a concrete bench, and we joined her and watched as Hamp strolled toward us.
Monica sighed. “That is one good-looking man,” she said. “Even if he is old.”
Hamp leaned against the fence and looked down at Biggie. “Abner’ll be out in a minute,” he said. “Meantime, I’ve got a proposition for you, Miss Biggie.”
Biggie cocked her head at him.
“Well, ma’am, you’re a damn fine rider. I guess you know that.”
Biggie nodded. She’s never been one for modesty.
“I was wondering if you’d be willing to come out once a week and give the girls lessons. Misty and I have been doing it, but we’re not in your class— not even close.”
“You’re gonna teach them to jump?” Monica wasn’t sure about that.
“Eventually. Right now, we’re just teaching them to sit a horse, trot, canter— that sort of thing. The main thing Grace wants them to do is care for the horses, but Laura says they should have some fun if they’re going to have to do all the work.”
“I agree,” Biggie said. “Besides, it’s good exercise. About my coming, I’m not sure. I’ll have to think about it.”
“Well, do that.” Hamp turned to go. “We, Laura and I, we’d sure be happy if you could though.”
“Does Laura know you’ve asked me?” Biggie wanted to know.
“Not yet.” He smiled. “But I can assure you, she’ll be delighted with the idea.”
Biggie stood up. “We’d better get back to town.”
As we approached the house, we saw the camp girls. Each one had a large trash bag and was picking up limbs and twigs blown down by the storm. Grace sat on a bench watching.
“Good morning,” she called out when she saw us. “You’re out bright and early.”
Biggie looked at her watch. “Not so early,” she said, looking toward the girls.
Grace saw the look. “You probably think it’s wrong for us to make the girls work like this. Right?”
“Well…” Biggie said.
“It’s part of the program, you see. Being productive brings with it a feeling of self-esteem that no amount of meaningless exercise can do. The growth process that takes place here has nothing to do with diet, really, although we do abide by certain nutritional protocols. What we offer them is a mind-body-spirit cleansing that is designed to last a lifetime.”
Monica made a face.
“Hmmm…,” Biggie said.
“If I had more time, I could make you understand.” Grace’s face hardened. “But I’m sure you need
to be on your way.”
“Yes, we do…”
Just then Rob Parish power-walked by. Monica nudged me. He stopped briefly in front of Grace, walking in place. “I see you’re still playing Simon Legree.”
Grace ignored him and he marched on, elbows flapping at his sides.
11
Well,” Biggie said, after we had driven about a mile toward town, “it must not have been much of a storm, only a few limbs blown down.”
“Shoot, I’ve seen lots worse.” Monica was bouncing around like a monkey trying to see out all the windows at once. “Last year a storm blew the roof off Elvis Moton’s barn. It landed in a chinaberry tree a half mile away.”
“Would you sit still!”
Monica didn’t hear me. She was leaning across the front seat between Biggie and Rosebud. “I bet you’ve seen lots of storms down in south Louisiana, Rosebud.”
“Hurricanes, mostly,” Rosebud said. “I recollect the time Audrey come through Cameron Parish. Now that was a doozy. Dern near wiped out the town of Cameron. My Uncle Buddy… Godamighty, look at that!” He drove the car onto the shoulder of the road and stopped.
For once, Monica couldn’t think of a thing to say, just stared open mouthed at a fifty-foot-wide tunnel through the forest swept clean by the storm. It went as far as we could see into the trees on both sides of the road. Limbs and whole tree trunks lay in piles beside the road left there by the cleanup crews. Power lines had come loose from their poles and dragged on the ground. It looked like a giant bulldozer had come through and cut away everything in its path. Tall pines were snapped in two like toothpicks and leaned this way and that, while the oaks and gum trees were stripped bare.
“I’m getting out,” Monica said, going for the door. “I see a dead cow.”
“Don’t you move!” Rosebud barked at her.
“Huh?”
“You ain’t going anywhere with those wires down. You crazy, girl?”
“Oh… I didn’t think.” For the first time in her life, Monica actually seemed embarrassed.
“Rosebud, get home quickly.” Biggie pointed. “That storm path leads right straight toward Job’s Crossing.”
The car coughed and hesitated as Rosebud gave it the gas. I doubt if that old funeral car had ever been driven as fast as we drove getting back home.