“Because I need to stay here for a while and take this medicine and see if I can get rid of them.” Then he leaned forward conspiratorially and informed me, “They're not real, you know.”
Son of a gun.
You could have knocked me over with a feather. I was too stunned to move. Lightning flashed in the sky. The two employees stubbed out their cigarettes and walked inside. I didn’t know what to say.
Randall took a deep breath. “Maybe they’ll let you come live in my room,” he offered.
“Yeah, maybe . . . ,” I said, suddenly feeling exhausted and tired. My chest and face felt drawn to the table. If I could just lay my head down and take a nap then all of this would go away.
Randall must have sensed my shift. He grabbed my hand and squeezed with a convincing tightness. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I stood up to get the ache out of my legs. “I know.”
He smiled anxiously. “Maybe you could go and live with Preston Brown for a little while.”
A wave of dizziness passed over me. “Maybe.” I backed away from the table.
“Does he still have your suitcase?”
I nodded without really even paying attention to the question.
Randall walked around the table and put his arm around me. “You’ll be okay, Tupelo Honey.”
“I don’t believe you, and the very fact that you are standing around here blowing smoke up my ass makes me that much madder.”
His entire face slackened. I pulled away from him and stomped off around the side of the house. A raindrop splattered against my forehead. The cold, tiny burst of water sent a shock wave through my body. This is it, I thought. This is the end of the line. I heard Randall running across the grass behind me.
“Tupelo Honey . . . wait up.”
I did not stop. I stomped across the grass with my aching toes, picking up speed when I saw Mr. Hester leaning against his car, staring up into the sky.
Three more raindrops plummeted from the sky, landing on my face. I tripped and felt something on my arm. Disoriented, I turned far enough to see Randall. His eyes were blurry and wet. His bottom lip trembled.
Holding onto my arm, he said, “It’ll be okay, Tupelo Honey.”
Tears flooded back into my eyes. “You don’t know that,” I whispered fiercely.
This was definitely not okay.
Suddenly I felt Mr. Hester’s hand on my other shoulder, steering me toward his car. “I’m going to have to ask you to let go of her,” Mr. Hester said firmly to Randall.
Big, wet drops rolled down my uncle’s cheeks. I ran to the car and got in. When I turned and saw Randall running across the street after me, I locked my door. Mr. Hester jumped in on the driver’s side as Randall clawed at my door handle.
“Tupelo Honey,” Randall yelled through the glass.
Irritated, I rolled my window down just enough to yell back. “You’re not my friend anymore.” Then I rolled the window up tight.
It took Randall a second but then he burst into tears.
Mr. Hester put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb. Randall stumbled into the street. I watched him in my side view mirror until we turned the corner at the end of the street. Butt munch. Traitor. Defector.
Chapter 31
Once we’d turned onto the highway, Mr. Hester said, “That didn’t go so well, did it?”
I shook my head.
“Is there anything I can do?”
It took me a minute but finally I reached down with one hand and pulled my shoe off. “My shoes don’t fit me anymore.”
“Really?”
I sighed. “Yeah.”
“Since when?”
“About a month ago.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. Maybe more.”
When I looked over his brow was furrowed. The windshield wipers slapped against the rain. It was so dark outside it felt like the end of the day.
He looked at his watch and said, “We don’t have to be back until lunchtime. Do you want to go shopping?”
I nodded but only because it was better than crying. Then I pried my other shoe off with my big toe. I was so afraid to throw away my shoes. What was I going to do without them?
In the parking lot to the outlet mall Mr. Hester said, “Since it’s raining I’ll let you off at the front door and park.”
I jumped out at the curb and ran barefooted to the big glass doors. The wet concrete was cold. Not many people were shopping so I stood right outside of the doors watching the rain pour down off the corners of the awning. Mr. Hester got out of his car with an umbrella and walked briskly across the parking lot. He reached for my hand and we walked inside.
The mall was practically empty. Cool, dry air welcomed us. We walked to a shoe store, looked inside, and then walked to the nearest department store. Except for the salespeople there was barely anyone in the store. It was nice. After I had tried on seven pairs of shoes he bought me two new pairs and twelve pairs of socks. I was actually pretty grateful to walk to the register with my feet wrapped in warm, cushy socks and shoes that fit.
Before we checked out Mr. Hester asked, “Is there anything else you need?”
“Yeah. Somewhere to live.”
The saleslady looked at me.
Mr. Hester laid his hand on my shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll help you with that, too.”
Once we were out in the middle of the mall he asked me if I needed anything else. At first I couldn’t think of anything. Then I told him that some of the buttons had popped off my pants. A few of my shirts had holes in them where the hem had unraveled. I couldn’t even find my pajamas. I’d been sleeping in a pair of sweatpants I hijacked from the lost and found.
“Did you tell anyone?”
I shook my head, sucking in a breath. “I just kept thinking I’d be able to go home and then someone would take me shopping. I just thought that someone would come get me and it wouldn’t be a big deal.”
Mr. Hester steered me over to a bench in the middle of the mall. He patted the seat.
After he put my bags on the floor, he knelt in front of me. “Tupelo Honey, I’m going to help you find somewhere to live. I promise. Because that’s my job and because I like you. You are very likeable . . . ”
The fact that someone was being so nice to me caused tears to trickle down my cheeks. It was embarrassing. For weeks I hadn’t been able to go anywhere without turning off the water works. A heavy, twisting feeling tugged at my heart. The smell of won tons and beef with broccoli wafted down from the food court. Thunder rumbled overhead.
“You promise?” I stole a glance down at my new shoes. They did feel good.
He stood up confidently, reaching for my hand. “I guarantee it.”
A sudden, inexplicable relief flooded my body. Even in my relief I swallowed and asked, “You’re not going to turn me out on the street?”
He laughed and crossed his heart with his hand. “That’s not the way this works. Come on. Let’s get you some clothes that fit.”
As we walked through the mall I stared down at my new shoes. The idea that I was now on my own started to settle over me. At least I was marching into my own future in clean socks.
Back at the group home Mr. Hester helped me unload everything and get it up to my bed. Then he went down to finish up his shift paperwork. The thing that really sucked about the group home was that no one had their own room. There was zero privacy except for the bathroom. I’d learned that if I spent too much time crying in the shower my face was red and puffy. When I came out everyone knew why I’d been hoarding the bathroom. I wasn’t the only one who cried in the bathroom, though. I think it must have been how all of us kept it together. We were never really given the space to fall apart. Today was a little different. The house was completely empty except for us. All of the residents and staff were on an outing. In the welcome silence I pulled all the tags off my new clothes and put them away in the drawers with my name on them. For a few minutes I
sat on my bed wondering where Moochi was. Maybe he didn’t know I’d moved. Maybe he was trying to find me. How could I contact him? He didn’t have a telephone or a mailing address. Normally he just showed up. Except he hadn’t shown up in weeks. I looked out the window. It was still raining outside. I liked having this one moment to myself while no one was looking. My shoulders slumped forward. I felt like people had been watching me my entire life.
Downstairs Mr. Hester was standing in the doorway to the living room, drinking a cup of coffee, watching the news on television. A cool breeze blew through the screen door. The air swept across my face. It was good.
Mr. Hester smiled at me. “Did you get all of your stuff put away?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks. I’m kind of excited about wearing my new pajamas tonight. They’re really soft.”
He sipped his coffee. “Good. I’m happy to have helped.”
The coffee smelled good. I pointed to his cup. “Hey. Can I get a cup of that?”
“Help yourself.” Then on second thought, he added, “Did you ever get anything to eat?”
I shook my head.
“That’s what I thought. Listen, go sit down and I’ll make us lunch.”
That sounded like the best idea I’d heard in weeks. I flopped down on the sofa that was too soft in certain places, mindlessly staring at the news. A news anchor stood out in the middle of a field. Sirens blared behind her. Helicopters jostled the sky. Her hair was perfect. She clutched her microphone to her chest. Suddenly, footage of a village in Mexico filled up the screen. It looked really familiar. I grabbed the remote control and turned the volume up.
Crash. Boom. Clank clank. Mr. Hester dropped something in the kitchen, scaring the crap out of me. My toes curled in my new, cushy shoes.
Men in uniform filled up the television screen. What was going on? Police dogs walked behind the news anchor.
Then, the anchor hoisted the microphone to her mouth and said, “The international community reported that authorities had been engaged in a standoff with the famous leader of the Gustavo Drug Cartel, Pablo Cruz Revilla, that has left many dead, including the leader himself. Mexican officials reported the death of Revilla from the national news source in Juarez . . . ”
The unforgettable face of Pablo filled the screen. Then several photos flashed, one after another. I heard a noise and turned around quickly. Moochi was standing in the doorway. I jumped up from the sofa, so happy to see him at last. As I moved closer I saw that he was pointing to the television with tears in his eyes. I looked back at Pablo. Suddenly I realized that my entire life was locked in a suitcase in someone else’s closet.
Moochi stepped backwards into the hall and started to fade. I’d never seen him do that before, and my heart beat fast. I started to race after him but the grays in the room blurred together. The sound of the rain outside deepened. The face of Pablo flashed behind me, and I saw it reflected in a mirror on the wall. His face shrunk smaller and smaller until the entire room was a tiny gray dot. I felt the free-falling sensation of my body dropping to the floor. I saw the brown shag carpet about to greet my face. And then . . . I fainted completely.
After the day I’d had, it was a relief.
Chapter 32
On the bathroom wall of the group home someone had taped a sign that read In the end everything is okay. If it’s not okay then it’s not the end. I loved that sign. It was the perfect prayer to recite over and over.
After a while I fell into a rhythm at the home. I went to school, hung out in the common room reading books, went on weekend outings and talked to counselors and lawyers until I thought I’d turn blue. I had to go before a judge three times and talk a lot about what everyone referred to as my grandmother’s estate. I’d always thought an estate was something rich people had. Then I learned that apparently my grandmother had been squirreling away money her entire life. She had a pile of it. So did Grand Daddy. From what I could tell that old fuddy-duddy saved every dime he’d made working at the post office. Rain, sleet, snow or shine. The judge said all of my money would go into a trust which from what I could tell was a fancy bank account.
It went on like this for almost a year. Everyone was trying to settle her estate before sending me off to live somewhere. I was very against a foster home, and so Orange Lipstick and Plump Legs were arranging for me to go live in a boarding school run by nuns. A lot of kids came and went. The tape with their names written on it was pulled off and replaced on each drawer. I knew that soon I’d have a place to go, a safe place. If it’s not okay, then it’s not the end. Someday I’d get to pull the tape with my name on it off of the drawers.
One day, Mr. Hester turned the van into the parking lot and I saw a sky-blue Buick Skylark parked in a space. I looked it over as I grabbed my backpack, climbing out. On closer inspection I saw it was used and closer still I saw my suitcase on the backseat. On the way up the front walk my legs slowed. My eyes were glued to the front window. Just inside the office stood Nash. He was talking to Paul. As the other kids barreled through the front door, Nash looked over. When he didn’t see me he glanced out the window. I couldn’t get myself to move. Paul looked out at me and pointed. Then Nash walked through the front door and out onto the porch.
“Hi,” I sputtered.
He smiled.
Wow.
It had been a long time since I’d seen that smile.
Paul stepped out behind him. “Hey, Tupelo Honey. You’ve got a visitor. Why don’t you guys go around to the patio out back?”
“Sure,” I said, trying to pull myself together.
Nash walked over, laying his hand on my shoulder. “Long time, no see.”
“How did you find me?”
“Well, I went to your grandmother’s house but I guess you know that she doesn’t live there anymore so I walked down to your friend’s house. The little boy who prays all of the time and his mom told me where you were.”
“Yeah, I’ve been here almost a year.”
“Really?” Nash glanced up at the house. “That’s a long time.”
I took a deep breath. “Yeah, it is. Come on, I’ll take you around back.”
The patio tables were sturdy and concrete. I sat down. Nash sat across from me.
“So how long do you have to stay here?”
“I guess until they settle my grandmother’s estate. Then I go to live at the boarding school until I turn eighteen.”
“What about your mother?”
I bit my lip, shifting a little. “Didn’t Preston Brown tell you?”
Nash shook his head.
“Well . . . ummm. She never came back for me.”
He just sat there staring at me. It was so quiet I could hear him breathing. “What do you mean?”
I sighed. It had been a long time since I’d told this story. “I mean, she just took her stuff and never came home one day. Then Marmalade died and it was terrible.”
His head nodded up and down.
I shrugged. “And so dss brought me here to get some people to help me get my life together.”
Nash chewed on his thumbnail a minute, and then said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know any of that.”
“Yeah, it’s kind of hard to know things when you don’t call.”
A big burst of silence hovered in between us.
Then, Nash cleared his throat. “I’ll take that.”
“Didn’t you get my pages?”
“Ummm . . . no, not exactly. I had some legal problems and my beeper was confiscated.”
“What does that mean?”
He looked away, then back, furrowing his brow. “It means I was arrested.”
“Are you still arrested?”
He smiled. “No. I got out on bail and had to pay a lot of lawyers a lot of money to get me off.”
“So are you okay?”
“Sure. I’ve got a few things to work out but mostly I’m okay.”
“They killed Pablo. I saw it on the news.”
Nash sucked a shar
p breath in. “Yep. They chased him down and killed him dead. Just like they said they would.”
“Why?” The sound of my voice sounded so small. I glanced around the backyard. The bluest sky I’d ever seen stretched in all directions. A light breeze blew through the trees.
“Well, let’s just say he had different priorities.”
“Do you miss him?”
I could tell by watching Nash that he’d never asked himself this question before. His eyes drifted up to the treetops, then he squinted into the sunlight. “Yeah. Yeah, I miss Pablo. He was the most ruthless son of a gun I’ve ever known.”
Mr. Hester stepped out the back door. “Hey. Tupelo Honey. We’re having dinner. Do you want me to bring a plate for you and your guest?”
I looked up at Nash. He nodded. “Yes. Please.”
A second later Nash reached across the table, touching my arm. “They seem nice here. How are you doing?”
“It’s okay. It’s quiet. It’s an okay place. When everything is settled I’ll go to live at a boarding school run by nuns.”
“Well, that sounds good.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Right?”
I nodded. I’d never even met a nun before. Truthfully, they scared the bejesus out of me.
“I just came by before I moved to say goodbye . . . ”
The word goodbye exploded in my head like a gunshot. I swung my legs over the concrete bench, tripped on uneven ground, and walked off. “Save it,” I yelled back over my shoulder.
I heard the scuffing of his shoes against the brick walk behind me. “Tupelo Honey? Wait. I didn’t get to finish.”
“Good.” I stomped over, pointing to my suitcase in the backseat of his car. “Where did you get this?”
“Your friend told me to give it to you.”
“Well, you have to take it back. I can’t take it inside.”
“Why not? It’s your personal stuff.”
“For one thing I don’t have a safe place to keep it. For another, they check all bags coming in and they’ll never let me have what’s in that case.”
Now Nash looked worried. “What’s in there?”
Tupelo Honey Page 18