“Hey, Johnny.” That redheaded devil boy said the word that I hated and called me dirty and laughed at me. “She’s following you.”
I heard some shuffling around but didn’t dare look around the corner. I heard footsteps coming near me. I turned toward the sound to be met by Arnold’s red face instead of Johnny’s.
He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me out from the alley and into sight. The lumberyard was now full of men eating lunch. I had hold of Arnold’s wrist but couldn’t free myself. Johnny arrived a step after.
Arnold was yelling nasty stuff at me when we both ended up on the ground. Johnny had punched him and brought us both down in the process.
Then he pulled me up fast and back into the alley. “You shouldn’t be here.” Of course that was the first thing he would say. He was right. I was stupid.
“I—I—” I didn’t know what to say. My throat felt as little as a spaghetti noodle and I didn’t know if I could breathe. I gasped for a few breaths, but when he took my forearm and gave me a good shake, I caught myself and started breathing normal again.
“Stop it, Sparrow.” He looked behind him, then turned back toward me. “You’re going to get us both into trouble.”
“I’m sorry, Johnny.” I pulled my arm from his grip.
His hands trembled when he set them on my shoulders. In my own nerves I tried to smooth down my hair where Arnold had grabbed it.
“Go,” he said with a breathless voice. “I don’t want you to get more hurt.”
I did. I ran and I didn’t turn around. What kind of fool was I to walk into town like that and go see the white boy who said I was pretty? Who had kissed me? Who probably liked Dinah better than me anyway?
Nobody at home even noticed I had been gone. Nobody noticed that I’d just come back. Mama returned a few minutes later. Then we ate lunch. My hands moved to my bologna-and-cheese sandwich and I knew I ate it, but I couldn’t feel my teeth bite it or chew it or swallow it. I couldn’t hear the conversation around the table, but I saw the mouths of my brothers and sister moving. Mama didn’t talk much; she never did no more. Maybe she used up all her words with Emma.
I helped clean up. I washed George’s face. I even smiled at him. He smiled back. Then I went to my room and pulled out a sewing needle I’d stolen from Mama. My heart sped up real fast knowing what was coming.
I needed two things—the sting, the tingle, the shiver, and the mark to remind myself of the many things I hurt over.
For the kiss.
For Johnny saying I was pretty.
For Arnold’s meanness.
For me being stupid.
For George’s smile that was too much like Carver’s.
I only bled a little when I pricked myself a dozen times—it wasn’t enough. So I started to scratch the needle against my skin ’til it bled, like tally marks. I pulled out that old river shell from my nightstand and let it cut against my skin. It didn’t break my skin much, but it was a good idea to use the shell anyhow. Like Carver was getting revenge on me—he deserved to. I was happy that I’d thought of it for his sake.
My bed was already marked up with blood from the first cut I made when I saw Johnny with Dinah. That one broke open too many times, so a little more didn’t matter. Mama would think it was just my monthly blood. She couldn’t know of this. But if she did, she wouldn’t care. Why would she care?
The relief reminded me of the way a little baby rested in its mama’s arms. It got nothing to do but rest there and be warm and be heavy. That’s how it felt. It was part of me now like my finger or foot or nose. I needed it. I imagined that the relief took up the spot where my soul used to be. I figured I lost my soul when I had killed Carver. Ain’t no God who wanted somebody like me in heaven. But now I got these magic cuts that made the pieces of me come together.
But it didn’t take everything away. It just made me feel something else for a little bit. I still knew what I done would never go away. I was like Cain and I would be forever marked. Daddy had said that we’d see Carver someday when we died. But that weren’t true for me. When I died I would crumble like dirt into the ground that Mama wouldn’t take up in her bag. When I died I got no reason to make it to heaven. When I died—
A few nights later, when everyone was asleep, I left the house, awaiting the Sunday dawn and Johnny. I didn’t even take a flashlight. The moon was bright and I knew the woods so well. I sat on the dock watching for Johnny, even though I knew it would be hours before daybreak. And he probably wasn’t going to come anyhow because of what I done. But I was still going to wait.
It wasn’t but an hour before a truck turned into Johnny’s driveway. The driver of the clunker turned off his headlights when it rolled in. Then I saw Johnny step through the front door of his house with a bag over his shoulder.
I didn’t know when I decided to run, but I did. But not away. I ran toward him. He didn’t see me or hear my feet brush against the lawn.
“Johnny.” My voice was raspy. “Don’t you leave.”
He turned toward me.
“Sparrow?” The same disappointment and surprise filled his eyes like at the lumberyard.
“Psst,” the driver said, and it was that awful redhead, Arnold. “Johnny, come on.”
Hadn’t he just punched him a few days ago? And he was gonna climb into a truck with him? I took a few steps back and scowled something awful. Did I know Johnny at all?
“Come with us,” Johnny said and ran up to me. He held me so close and I knew Arnold saw us. His mouth was by my ear. “Come with me. Let’s go out west and start over together.”
I pulled back and looked at his face. “What you talking about? With him?” I looked past him and saw another Amish boy was inside also. Arnold gestured to me with his fist. Johnny didn’t see him.
“I won’t let him hurt you.”
I peeled his hands off me. “He’ll kill me. I can’t go anywhere with that boy.”
“He’ll never get close enough. And as soon as we get somewhere, we’ll go off on our own.” He put his hands on my arms. He was so warm. His eyes didn’t move from my face. He was serious about his invitation. But I wouldn’t go nowhere with Arnold.
“Stay, Johnny. Please don’t run away.”
“Johnny, come on,” Arnold whispered, leaning out the open window in the door.
“I have to leave—I can’t stay here anymore.” He touched my hair and my face and traveled down my neck. “My parents—my dad—I don’t want anything to do with him.”
“What about your mama?”
His gaze went to the woods behind me. He shook his head. “I can’t stay.” He looked back at me. “Things are too hard here. Just come with me.”
I think I loved him because he understood, but my fear of Arnold was stronger.
I stepped back and closed my eyes. When I opened them again I saw Johnny step backward, still facing me, with a pained expression.
“I’ll come back for you someday.”
And then he was gone.
DELILAH
I heard a banging on the front door when the sky was still navy blue. I blinked a few times and then turned to see that Malachi was still asleep. Why would someone be here now? What day was it? Even on a Sunday morning I don’t have to be up earlier than the sun.
I sat up and rubbed my face to wake myself up before I swung my legs over to get my slippers on. “Malachi,” I said in a loud whisper. “Somebody at the door.”
He groaned a little at me. I waved a hand at him and grabbed my housecoat and headed for the door.
The knock came again.
“I’m coming,” I said, and not real nice neither.
I tied up my housecoat and cleared my throat and reached for the door when another knock sounded. They sure was impatient. I pulled the door open and found a big figure standing on the other side. I didn’t open the screen door though. I wanted to know who it was first.
A light was shined in my face. It hurt my eyes and I squinted and put my hand up. “
Gracious—what you do that for?” I asked before I caught myself.
“We’re here to talk to Reverend Evans?” The loud voice didn’t sound familiar. He repositioned the flashlight so’s it’s not right in my eyes. I saw a uniform. “This is Police Chief Crabtree here to see the reverend.”
“Give me a few minutes. He’s still in—”
Then he pushed the door a little. “Can we come in?” Police Chief Crabtree interrupted.
“Let me go get my husband.” I stepped back as the door opened without my invitation. He got some nerve. He was a large man. Not just tall but had a big, round belly. But it was the way he thought about himself that took up the whole kitchen. Behind him came another man in uniform. A small man in comparison.
“I’ll wait here,” he said with his gruff voice.
I didn’t act like I was nervous until I was all the way inside my bedroom. I didn’t want that man to see my hands shaking. But when I got the bedroom door closed, I ran around the bed and started shaking Malachi awake. He was bleary eyed and didn’t know what I was talking about.
“The police chief is here,” I said in a loud whisper and shook him back and forth again. “Police Chief Crabtree. And I don’t know why.”
“What, Dee?” He sat up. “You having a wild dream or something?”
“Mal-a-chi. Listen to me. The sheriff is in our kitchen and he got something to say. I’m scared.”
“Crabtree? Is here? Now?”
“I said that twice. Now get your butt out of bed. Don’t you make me cuss and you know I might ’cause you know how I get when I’m scared. We ain’t never had a police chief in our house. Not even when—” When we lost our Carver we had to deal with the police, but they didn’t come into my home.
Malachi came to himself and stretched when he got out of the bed. He was in an undershirt and pajama bottoms. He would never want to be seen in them, but he ain’t got a choice right now. I grabbed his robe and handed it to him and rushed him to tie it. My hands and my breath was shaky.
Malachi rubbed his face again and he clicked on the light on the nightstand. He grabbed his watch and looked and groaned. “It’s barely five.”
“You got to get out there, Mal.” I yanked at his arm.
“I’m going, Dee.” He put his watch on, like it dressed him up or something.
I walked behind him and had his robe fisted in my hand. My toes hit his heels a few times and I apologized under my breath, but I wanted to know what was going on and was all nerved up. He pulled the robe out of my hand but I stayed close behind him. When he stopped in front of the police chief, half my front was against his back.
He put his hand out. “Good morning,” he said and didn’t hide that he was vexed. “What’s this all about, Chief?”
“Reverend Evans, I’m Police Chief—”
“Yes, I know who you are. We’ve met before, a few times, actually. This must be important since it’s pretty early and my family and I were still asleep, you see.”
He got just about too much confidence, this husband of mine. He got to be nice and instead he was dishing out his annoyance with a fork and spoon. What was he thinking? Police—or any white person—sure didn’t like that kind of attitude from a colored man.
“Do you know anything about Kenny Carter?”
“Kenny Carter?” Malachi didn’t act surprised or nothing.
“What do you know about his whereabouts?”
“I was told he was sent down south. That’s what his folks said and that’s all we know.”
Malachi was telling the truth, though I had not been in all of those conversations.
“I know there was some trouble with the Coleman girl, but he’s really a good kid. He doesn’t want any trouble. I don’t think he means to come back,” Malachi said in the tone he used when he was counseling folks. Real trustworthy and gracious.
“I’m not so sure about that.” Police Chief Crabtree looked over at the other police officer and they raised their eyebrows at each other. He turned back toward us and took a deep breath. “We believe he may be responsible for the vandalism during the night at the Sinking Creek Community Church.”
“The what?” I said before Malachi could respond.
“Vandalism?” Malachi said all high-pitched like. “That doesn’t sound like Kenny.”
“A vehicle was driven into the side of the community church.” His gaze shifted back and forth between Malachi and me.
“A vehicle?” Malachi and I both said.
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Why do you think it was Kenny? Was it Kenny’s car?”
“It was against the white church and as far as the vehicle, well—” The chief looked over at the other officer who shrugged, then whispered something behind his hand. “It’s the Johnson boy’s car— Arnold. He told us it was stolen and he was pretty beat up when we talked to him. We need to know where Kenny is, Reverend, and we expect you to help.” He leaned forward then. “I know you don’t want no trouble to come to you and your church. Maybe you could go with us while we talk to his parents?”
“You’re talking to me before the boy’s folks?” His voice was higher than my raised eyebrow.
“We believed you’d be more”—he stumbled over his words— “forthcoming with information and help us with the boy’s parents.”
I supposed I was glad they thought he was honest, but it was a sad state that they thought the Carters weren’t. Malachi told them he would drive himself to the Carters and would be there after he changed his clothes.
Chief Crabtree and the other officer nodded with reluctance and let themselves out while Malachi and I just stood there.
“What we gonna do, Malachi?”
“There isn’t anything we can do right now but for me to go with them.” He walked toward the bedroom. “I’ll talk to the church this morning that we really need to be praying for our town over all this. And make sure that Kenny isn’t in town anymore.”
“You don’t think he did it, do you?”
He didn’t answer.
“Malachi, you can’t believe he’d do something like that.”
“Why not, Dee?” He moved past me to grab his clothes from the wardrobe. “He was mighty upset and he made lots of threats.”
“But they are the ones who run him out. He didn’t do nothing against the law.”
“Yes, they ran him out. Why are we surprised about that? But that doesn’t excuse bad behavior from anyone. I need to go talk with the Carters and see if Kenny really did go south like they said.”
That was what Malachi harped on over and over in all the years I heard him speak. He didn’t excuse all the prejudices against our community, but he also didn’t excuse any response that was against the law. He always went back on that old phrase that two wrongs don’t make a right. I wasn’t sure I always agreed with him. If someone did harm to any of my children, they would have to deal with me. It wouldn’t be nice neither.
“Daddy.” Harriet stood in the bedroom doorway. “What was that police car doing in the driveway?”
“It ain’t nothing you got to worry over.” I kissed her forehead. “You go back to sleep. It’s real early.”
“Why do I have to stay in bed if Sparrow ain’t?”
“What do you mean, Sparrow ain’t in bed?” I asked.
Malachi pushed past us both while he tied his tie and went into the bathroom. It was like he didn’t even hear what Harriet was saying. As usual, his mind was caught up with something else— church—instead of his family.
“She ain’t in her bed. I thought she was down here.” Harriet’s eyes rounded large with question.
I went into the kitchen half expecting to see her standing there. But she wasn’t. I looked out the front window and saw the police car pull out of the drive, red taillights glowing. The church was silhouetted in a calm sunrise. I went to the kitchen window and looked out back. She wasn’t there.
I went up to her room next. Of course Harriet couldn’t hav
e imagined Sparrow’s empty bed, but I had to see for myself. I pulled the covers off her bed and all I found were blooms of red blood on her white sheets. I sucked in a breath. Even though I knew it could be her monthly, I got a bad feeling about seeing that blood.
“That blood?” Harriet made a stink face looking at it.
“Harriet, you gonna need to be a big, grown-up girl and stay home with your brothers.” I know I sounded breathless so I cleared my throat to put some oomph in my words. “If George wakes up you just give him a bowl of cereal and some orange juice. You tell him Mama will be home soon.”
“Where you going?”
“I got to get your sister.” I ran down the stairs almost missing half of them and changed into an old dress as fast as I could. I didn’t even put on any stockings but slipped my feet into my shoes.
“You going somewhere?” Malachi asked when I got to the kitchen where he was grabbing an apple.
“Sparrow’s run off again. I think I know where she went.”
He stopped me with his hands squeezing my forearms and didn’t speak until I looked at his face. “Dee, you okay to deal with her?”
“What choice do I got? You go to the Carters and I look for the girl—you don’t know where to look anyhow.” I didn’t know why I was so panicked at her having run off again, because I knew she’d be in the woods or at Emma’s house. What trouble could she get in? But there was something like a boulder in my stomach and I knew something wasn’t right.
“Delilah.” It meant something when he said my whole name. “She’s your girl. Don’t forget that.”
“I know that. Now let me go.” I reminded Harriet of my instructions and then ran out into the yellow, dewy morning.
My feet were wet by the time I got to the stream. I didn’t worry about using the stones and splashed through the few inches of water. I ran as long as I could and then I did that fast walk-run, all the while looking around for some sign that maybe Sparrow was near.
The Solace of Water Page 25