“You could’ve told me what to expect—Mama’s forgetting things,” I said.
“She remembered Patch.”
“She didn’t remember he died. Tried to call him and turned the kitchen upside down looking for his food.”
“Ummm, guess I didn’t catch that.” He folded the knife and slid it into his pocket.
“And another thing—you noticed how she spends half her time taking bubble baths? Three, four times a day. Did the doctor say that would pass too?”
“Can’t say. I know she missed ’em while she was gone.”
“Still…” I tried to gather the words in my head, but none came. What I wanted to say was, What about Sylvia? Did she forget all about her too?
“It’s getting late. Maybe we ought to turn in.” Daddy stood up and held the screen door open. “Coming?”
The next morning we left, and about halfway home we saw the boy with the puppies. By the time we pulled into Graham Camp, it seemed like Scarlett had been part of our family forever. Fuzzy and cute, bouncing along behind me everywhere I went. Mama and I both loved her to pieces.
“You ever seen such a mess of feathers?” Goldie scooped a handful of green fluff from a cubicle. More fuzz swirled in the air. “This infernal heat started them molting earlier than usual. Now it’ll be feathers, feathers, feathers for another month, maybe two.” She slung her down-covered hand into the wastebasket. Silver threads shone in her cinnamon-colored hair. It looked like she’d turned a bowl upside down on her head and given herself a new haircut. Straight bangs, straight all around her head, level with her earlobes. No nonsense, that was Goldie all right.
A feather drifted by, settling between two wires of the just-cleaned cage. I pulled it out and sat on the wooden stool twirling the feather, examining it.
“A clean bird is a happy bird.” Goldie handed over two ceramic bowls. “Fill these with water and let the ones over here take their baths.”
Just like Mama and her bubbles.
Some of the birds stepped timidly into the water, plucking softly at their feathers. Not Lady Aster. She dove in, splashed, and shook her whole body.
“The queen bee, that one is, my Lady Aster.” Goldie laughed a throaty cackle.
“Goldie, did you ever want to have children?”
“I’ve got my babies here. That’s enough.”
“Well, before you started your aviary, did you want real children?”
“The Lord gives; the Lord takes away.” She turned her back and stuck her arm far into one of the boxes.
“You sound like Brother Henry. What do you mean, the Lord gives and takes?”
Goldie pulled out a fistful of feathers. A softness had settled on her face, and her eyes looked sad.
“I had a boy once. He drowned when he was fourteen.”
The air fuzzed around me, thick with molting fluff and Goldie’s words.
“I didn’t know.” I jumped off the stool and held out the feed sack for Goldie to shake the feathers she’d gathered. “How long before you… well, got over it?” It didn’t come out sounding right, not the way I meant somehow.
“I don’t know. I’m still waiting.”
“But you’re so jolly, always carrying on with Lady Aster and the others.”
“That’s George’s doing. Moved me to Graham Camp a while after it happened. Folks here just took me in, inviting us over for bridge and picnics. One day George announced I needed a hobby. Bein’s I always had a canary or a parakeet or two, that’s what I settled on. Next thing I knew, George started hammering and stringing up wire, looking in a book for instructions. Slim and Benny Ray and Deacon Greenwood, they all stopped by to help. Now I’ve got these babies.”
“I’m sorry about your boy. Just think, if you hadn’t… well… if you hadn’t got the aviary, I wouldn’t be over here half the summer pestering you.”
“It’s a mystery all right, the way the Almighty works.” She wiped her hands on a damp rag from the pine table. “Now, tell me about this mutt you got.”
[ THIRTEEN ]
ONE MORNING MAMA AND I made chocolate no-bake cookies and watched three game shows in a row on television. That’s the way it was. I stayed home with Mama when Daddy worked and helped Goldie or ran around the neighborhood when he was home. Every day I thought Mama seemed to be getting better as far as her memory went. When the Montgomery Ward catalog came in the mail, we sat on the couch and circled our favorite outfits. I got up the nerve to tell her I needed a training bra, and she measured around my chest with the cloth tape and studied the size charts. She let me fill in the order blank from the middle of the catalog, getting me set up for junior high. It was the happiest time I could ever remember. Ever.
Later, while she and Daddy watched a Gunsmoke rerun, I took Scarlett for a walk and ended up at Tuwana’s. Their front door stood propped open while Mr. Johnson hauled an end table out.
“Tomorrow’s the big day.” Mrs. Johnson’s cheeks flushed a rosy color. “The furniture will be delivered around noon. I don’t suppose your mother would like any of this old stuff?” She swooped her hand across the room.
“I don’t think so, but thanks for asking.”
“Can’t say I blame her. Early orange crate. That’s what it is.” She laughed and told Tara to get off the sofa. “Your daddy needs to move it to the garage.” Tuwana and I offered to help him carry it. Good thing. It weighed a ton.
“Shoulda called you girls’ boyfriends to help with this heavy stuff,” Mr. Johnson said as we dropped our end on the sidewalk. We pushed it along, gouging ruts in the grass where the legs dug in.
“What boyfriends?” Tuwana asked, hands on her hips.
“Ol’ Norm’s nephew, for one. California, was it?”
“Daddy, I wouldn’t want him for a boyfriend if he was the last human on earth. Always holding that rattlesnake rattle up when I’m not looking, scaring the pee-wadding out of me.”
I raised my eyebrows at Tuwana. The last human on earth?
“My boyfriend lives in town, and that would’ve been too far to come.” She put her hand over her mouth and giggled.
We carried the sofa over the gravel driveway, Tuwana and me on one end, Mr. Johnson on the other, and got it to the garage. My arm muscles quivered like frog legs jumping in a frying pan when we set it down.
“I never can keep up with all your shenanigans. You girls did all right. Let’s catch our breath before we go back in the house.” He walked over to the side of the garage and lit a cigarette while Tuwana and I settled on the glider.
“You didn’t tell me you had a new boyfriend.” I looked at Tuwana’s profile in the moonlight. In my side vision, the end of Mr. Johnson’s cigarette glowed red as he mopped the back of his arm across his forehead.
Tuwana dangled her foot to the ground and scritched the glider faster, back and forth, back and forth. “I forgot.”
“You wouldn’t forget that. Who is it?”
“An eighth grader. He’s not exactly my boyfriend, but I think he will be.”
Faster and faster went the glider. Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.
“So, you gonna tell me who or do I have to guess every boy in eighth grade?”
“Mike Alexander.”
“Mike, the football captain?” I planted my foot on the ground, bringing the glider to a halt.
“He’s not just the football captain. He’s on the student council and the honor roll. My heart just does flip-flops when I see him. You know, at the football field in town when PJ and I go to cheerleading practice. Surprised?” She cocked her head and batted her eyelashes.
“What about Cly?” The question burned within me. It was dumb, I know, but I still thought about him and wanted to be his friend.
“He was just a temporary diversion, only here for the summer. Besides, he acts just like all the other camp clowns if you ask me, which I know you didn’t, but… well, there you have it. Mike carried my pom-poms to the car when Mother picked me up this afternoon. Can you believe it? Th
is is what it’s like to finally be in love.”
“In love? You mean like puppy love?”
“No, I can feel it. My skin just goes all goose-bumpy when I think about him.” She did a little shiver.
“You’re smitten all right.” I stood up from the glider. “Time for me to go. I’ll go in and get Scarlett.”
Tara and Tommie Sue had put doll clothes on Scarlett—a lacy pink dress and a bonnet. They giggled and smothered her in kisses before handing her to me.
“Oh, Sammie,” Mrs. Johnson said as I wriggled Scarlett out of the dress. “I’m having a coffee on Friday morning for the ladies in camp. I want to share our home with everyone. Tell your mother I hope the two of you can make it. Ten o’clock.”
“Thanks. I’ll tell her.”
Gathering Scarlett in my arms, I took the long way around, sticking with the camp streets, laid out like long black tongues in the moonlight. A party would be fun for Mama. Give her a chance to “try her wings,” as Goldie would say. The only time she went out was church on Sundays. Swoosh in. Swoosh out. No chitchat. My steps felt light as I drifted home. I might even talk Daddy into letting me learn backgammon with Cly. Now that Tuwana didn’t want him.
A moist lilac scent floated through the front room when I entered the house. Mama and her bubble baths.
I found Daddy at the kitchen table eating a no-bake cookie and slid into the chair opposite him.
“These ain’t bad. Want one?” He shoved the plate across to me.
“No thanks. I wanted to ask you a question.” Might as well plunge right in. “Remember a while back when you told me I couldn’t be around Cly?”
“The MacLemore kid?” Daddy gave me a sideways glance.
Act nonchalant. “Yeah. Cly wants to teach me how to play backgammon so we can outwit Mr. Wallace.”
“Slim’d be hard to beat. Shrewd, I’d imagine.” He picked up his plate and put it in the sink.
“It’s like this.” My heart pumped ninety miles an hour. “Tuwana and PJ are busy all the time practicing their cheers, and Cly will only be here a couple more weeks, so I thought if you didn’t care, maybe I could learn. I might even teach you like you taught me to gut a catfish.”
Daddy rummaged in the cabinet, looking for something. “Do you know if we’ve got any toothpicks?” he asked.
“Other side, bottom shelf.”
He opened the door and found the toothpicks we kept in a shot glass. He worked on a couple of spots and said, “I don’t know. Norm’s a hothead. Figgered his nephew would be too. Thing is, I don’t want you getting into a situation you can’t handle. Gotta protect my girl, you know.” He ruffled my hair. The toothpick bobbled up and down in his mouth the way his Camels used to.
“Don’t you trust me?”
“It’s not that. It’s other people you gotta watch out for. You’re too young to have much experience with that.” He sat back down and crossed his legs. “I’ll think on it and let you know.”
“But Cly will only be here two more weeks. Maybe less.”
“I said I’d think on it.”
“Think on what?” Mama breezed in, clean smelling, her mouth tilted up at the corners.
“Sis here wants to learn some game from that kid from California. Over at Slim’s.”
“Good grief, Joe. Let her go. You’re fussier than an old mother hen. She needs to be out having fun. Besides, you can trust Sammie. Has she ever once done anything to cause you any doubt?” Mama picked up a cookie and nibbled the coconut from the edges.
“That’s my job—taking care of my girls. I know when I’m whipped though… you two ganging up on me.” He rubbed a whiskery place on his chin. “I suppose you can go. Just a round or two.”
“Thank you, Daddy. Cly’s a good kid. You’ll see.” I hugged him and snagged the last cookie from the plate.
The ladies of Graham Camp streamed into Mrs. Johnson’s party. Tuwana dipped lime sherbet punch into cut-glass cups while her sisters served cream-cheese sandwiches with olives toothpicked to the top and lemon squares dusted with powdered sugar. Very festive.
The furniture—Danish provincial, Mrs. Johnson said—was an aquamarine color. It filled up the front room, squeezed into every inch of space. The curved arms of the sofa butted up against the end table on the long outside wall with the chairs angled in on either end. You had to turn sideways to make it past the cocktail table planted like an island in the center of it all. Tuwana’s mother flittered around, beaming at all the compliments.
“Marvelous color, Alice.”
“You’re a lucky lady, getting a new Edsel and this divine furniture all in the same summer. Tell us your secret. How’d you get Benny Ray sugared up for all this?”
Mrs. Johnson lifted her shoulders. “Oh, get outta here. You know men. Just gotta get your timing right.” She patted her hand on the back of the sofa and turned to Mama, who’d found a spot in one corner of the sofa. “Rita, it’s lovely to see you. New dress?”
“This?” Mama sipped from her cup, and from across the room, she looked like a strawberry sundae in her pink sundress. “Gracious no. I’ve had it for ages.” When she smiled, her whole face lit up. Mama was getting along fine.
I found Tuwana in the kitchen filling the punch bowl and talking to PJ.
“I knew he was trouble from the beginning.” PJ’s eyes twinkled behind her rhinestone glasses.
“How creepish. Where do you think he went?”
“Hi, guys.” If they heard me come up, they didn’t act like it. “Where did who go?”
“Cly, that’s who.” Tuwana had her know-it-all look. “Took off from his aunt and uncle’s house yesterday. No by-your-leave or nothing.”
“Norm went to the plant office this morning, asked my mom if she’d seen him.” PJ helped herself to a sandwich. “Called him an ungrateful little so-and-so and some other stuff I can’t repeat. Mom wanted me to ask around with some of the kids. I thought about Doobie, but his mom’s nerve treatment from last year didn’t take, and he went with his dad to put her back in the hospital.”
“You mean… Cly’s… gone?”
“Flew the coop. Probably had a fight with his uncle.” PJ shrugged.
My stomach gurgled. “Cly said he’d been getting along okay with Norm. Something must’ve happened.” Something no one knew about. Whatever it was, I couldn’t imagine. Just then a new batch of noises came from the front room.
Oohs and aahs drifted toward me. Standing on tiptoe, I saw Sister Doris, Brother Henry’s wife, and her whole brood—baby Penelope in her arms, Matthew, Mark, and Luke scrunched around her at the edge of the furniture.
“Sorry about bringing the whole gang,” Sister Doris said. “Henry got a call, so here we are.” Luke pulled on his mother’s saggy dress, one I’d seen her wear dozens of times, a tent outfit that hung from her shoulders and hid the plump parts. “What is it, Lukie?” She bent down and cupped his face in her hand. He whispered something to her. “All right, dear, just a moment.”
Sister Doris handed Penelope to Poppy Brady, who was wedged on the sofa between Mama and Mrs. Zyskowski. “Potty training,” Doris whispered, and guided Luke toward the bathroom.
Poppy didn’t have any children. She was just barely married to Fritz, not more than a few months. She stiffened like she’d been handed a lizard instead of a baby. Penelope started wailing. Poppy held the baby up under the arms, leaving her plump sausage legs dangling in the air.
“It’s okay,” Mama said. “I’ll take her.” She held out her hands and curled the baby close to her breast, cooing softly as their eyes met. Penelope settled right down, and Poppy announced it was time for her soap opera and whooshed out the door.
I slipped into Poppy’s spot. “Cute, isn’t she?” I ran my finger over a dimpled fist clutching Mama’s finger. Mama made baby sounds and snuggled Sister Doris’s baby even closer.
“Such a sweet girl, my precious cream puff.” Mama’s lips brushed Penelope’s milky white forehead. The baby whimpered,
a kitten kind of mewing sound. “There now, no need to fuss, my darling Sylvia. Mama’s here. Shhh. Everything’s fine.”
What did Mama say? Sylvia? Surely it just slipped out. Peeking around, I hoped no one else noticed. Everyone chatted nonstop, going on about how the summer had flown by and school would be starting in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.
Penelope yawned and stretched one leg out. Mama shifted a bit, never taking her eyes from the baby. Another whimper, then Penelope wiggled and fussed louder. Mama picked her up and held her on her shoulder, but the pink bottoms of Penelope’s feet pumped against Mama.
“Don’t cry, Sylvia. We’ll fix you up. Mama’s got you.” She spoke louder this time, and the whole room got quiet. Except for Penelope’s screaming.
“Tara, Tommie Sue, please see if the ladies would like another sandwich.” Mrs. Johnson busied herself picking up empty punch cups and stray toothpicks from the cocktail table.
“Penelope, that’s the baby’s name. Remember I wrote you a letter about her.” I didn’t even know if Mama heard me the way she kept talking to Sylvia, cooing and making shushing noises, kissing her neck, jiggling her up and down. My skin crawled with chill bumps.
By now Sister Doris had finished taking Luke to the bathroom and sat in the armchair nearest Mama’s end of the sofa. Doris smiled and acted as if it were the most natural thing in the world for Mama to be holding her baby and calling her another name. I made a motion to Doris, pointing to Penelope, trying to see if she wanted to take the baby back. She shook her head no and looked at Mama with soft brown eyes. Her sturdy hand moved to Mama’s knee, and she patted it softly.
When Penelope screamed loud enough to hear two houses away, Mama stood and paced around the cocktail table, soft, rocking steps trying to calm the baby, but it didn’t help. After a while Sister Doris stood also and gently cupped Penelope’s bottom in her hand and took her from Mama.
“Must be hungry. My, this girl likes to eat.”
Mama blinked a time or two, then flicked her hair away from her face and said, “You know, Alice, I would love another of those lemon bars. And when you have time I’d like the recipe.”
Chasing Lilacs Page 8