Made in the U.S.A.

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Made in the U.S.A. Page 25

by Billie Letts


  “But, you see what happen? We get it right, put it in motion, then see how long it take before we mess it up. Mess it up real bad.”

  “Juan,” Mama whispered, “you ought not to talk like that to her. She’s just a kid. She’s not even old enough yet to know what she thinks or why.”

  “I know, Mama, but I ascared she be too old now. Her life cut out for her already. The boy, too, unless something change in their living, we know how it all going to be for them.”

  “Shhhhh. She’ll hear you.”

  Both Mama and Juan looked around for Lutie but didn’t see her. “Where did she go, Juan? Outside?”

  “Maybe. I guess she got to feeling boring.”

  “Bored,” Mama corrected.

  “Hell’s bells. Now you correcting me, too.”

  “I’ll bet she went over to the prop tent to see the clown getups Fate told her about.”

  “Or she might be on her way to the house.”

  They walked together. Neither of them noticed Lutie as she mounted the highest of all the balance beams, her eyes fixed in concentration.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  BACK AT MAMA SIM’S, after supper was finished, Fate and Essie’s kids, Morrell and Tiki, did the dishes while Mama sterilized her “instruments” and gathered up the supplies she would need for the “operation.”

  The stitches in Lutie’s face were coming out this evening; the operating theater would be Mama’s kitchen; the procedure would be performed on the breakfast table, which Essie had covered with a bleached white sheet.

  Juan, following Mama’s directions, had used a pair of pliers to bend the needle so that it resembled the shape of a quarter-moon. Tweezers, scissors, and the needle had been boiled in a pot on the stove and shared space now on a tray with gauze, tape, cotton balls, and bottles of alcohol and peroxide.

  Ray had replaced the batteries in one of his flashlights, and Essie had brought a magnifying glass she would hold while Mama removed the stitches.

  Finally, everything seemed to be in place and everyone had been assigned a task. Mama, of course, was the doctor; Essie, her nurse. Morrell and Tiki fought for the position of nurse’s aide. Ray would hold the flashlight, and Morrell, after losing his battle with his sister, was given the magnifying glass to be used when Mama was doing the close work.

  As Lutie crawled up on the table, she asked, “Mama Sim, have you ever done this before? Taken out stitches?”

  “Honey, I’ve delivered babies, then stitched up the episiotomy.”

  “What’s an epositonimy?”

  “Just before a woman gives birth, she’s cut from her vagina to her—”

  “Whoa,” Morrell said. “Too much information.”

  “Morrell, ‘vagina’ isn’t a dirty word.”

  “No one in my Sunday school class has ever said it. Let’s just stick to church words.”

  “I’ve stitched all kinds of wounds, Lutie,” Mama said. “Feet, arms, fingers—”

  “I don’t give a damn about all that,” Lutie said. “Just tell me if this is gonna hurt.” She glared at Fate as she spoke. “I might need something for pain.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  “We ought to tell her the truth,” Tiki said. Then she smiled wickedly at her little brother. “What about the time Morrell got one of his balls cut and—”

  “Tiki, if you’re going to tell this story, use proper terms.”

  “Okay. He got one of his testicles caught on the wire we use to keep the field gate closed, and you had to sew that up. All that blood . . .”

  “You’re just telling this story to embarrass me,” Morrell said. “Mama, make her stop.”

  “Okay, Lutie. You just lay back, take a couple of deep breaths, and close your eyes. Ray, I’m going to start down here by her lip and work upward, so put the light right . . . there. Perfect. Now, Essie, use a cotton ball and clean the cut with peroxide.”

  With the scissors, Mama cut the top of each stitch. Only the last two made Lutie grimace.

  “Damn,” she said. “You told me this was painless. It’s not!”

  “You’re doing real good, Lutie. Morrell, hold that magnifier over that area right there.” Mama used the tip of the scissors to point out the spot she couldn’t see clearly. “Fine.”

  “Okay. All of the stitches are cut, so now I’m ready to pull them through with these tweezers. You might feel a little pinch or two, but it goes pretty fast. You ready?”

  “Yeah. Get this over with.”

  “All right. Essie, dab one of those cotton balls with alcohol and swipe up that bloody spot.”

  “Hey, if I’m bleeding, then maybe you’re taking these stitches out too soon.”

  “No. It’s time. But when I pull the suture through, it can make a fine cut into the skin. That’s all.”

  Mama continued to pull out the suture Dr. Hector had used to close up this nasty cut. And though they knew it would look better as time went by, Lutie would always have a scar on her face.

  “Okay. That’s it. Looks pretty good, too. And every day, it’ll look better than the day before.”

  “Give me a mirror. Let me see.”

  “Tell you what. I’m gonna clean this up with some more peroxide, tape a layer of gauze over it, and let you see it after it heals some more. It’ll look a lot better then.”

  “But I—”

  “Please, Lutie. Trust me. When you get back from the dentist on Monday, me and Essie have planned something nice for you and you’ll think, Wow. Just trust me.”

  “Why should I? You said this wouldn’t hurt.”

  “I think it looks good, Lutie,” Fate said.

  “But it’s not your face, is it, butt-head?” Lutie stomped off to her bedroom and slammed the door.

  “What’s wrong with that girl?” Mama asked.

  Fate said, “She’s mad at me.”

  “Why is she mad at you?”

  “I’m not sure. Could be anything, I guess.” Though he didn’t feel right lying to Mama Sim, he didn’t want to tell her about the drugs he’d emptied from his sister’s purse on the trip from Las Vegas.

  He supposed she’d find out about Lutie’s fondness for drugs soon enough, if she hadn’t already.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  EARLY THE NEXT morning, Juan woke to the sound of Draco’s tail slapping against the side of the tent. Ordinarily, the dog, nearly as dependable as an alarm clock, wagged her tail at six-thirty, give or take a couple of minutes. Regardless, it was her way of saying, “Let’s get this show on the road and some breakfast in this pan.”

  Juan could tell, though, judging from the light of dawn, that it wasn’t close to six. But when he heard voices and felt Draco crawl out of the tent, he knew she was off to find out if those voices came from people who might have food and might be willing to share it with her.

  “You’re up early,” he heard his papa say.

  “Couldn’t sleep.” Lutie’s voice.

  “Looks like I’m waking up the whole bunch,” Ray said. “Even got Juan’s dog out of bed.”

  “Get down, Draco. Go away,” Lutie said.

  “You don’t like dogs?” Ray asked. “I thought all kids liked dogs.”

  “I’m not a kid.”

  “No?”

  “I’m sixteen. Almost.”

  Lutie sat on the porch steps, Draco curled up by her feet. Raynoldo was loading stacks of cardboard boxes from the porch into the bed of his truck.

  “You ever have a dog?”

  “Once. Stray we named Bingo. But we didn’t get to keep him very long.”

  “What happened?”

  “Woman we were staying with took him out in the country and dumped him.”

  “Why?”

  “He tore up her house shoes, peed on her rug. Besides, he needed a rabies shot and she said she didn’t have the money.”

  “Well, maybe you’ll get you another Bingo one of these days.”

  “I don’t want one. Dog’s too much trouble.”<
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  “Yeah, they can be, but there’s lots of strays out there looking for a home. I see them dead on the highways ever’ day.”

  “Guess they should’ve learned to stay away from the road.”

  “Oh, you’re a tough one, aren’t you, Lutie?”

  “I get by.”

  “But not without help, huh?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mama told me Juan brought you with him from Vegas because some men beat you. Took your money.”

  “That was Juan’s decision, not mine. I didn’t ask to come here.”

  “Yeah, you’re tough all right.”

  Lutie shrugged, then watched Ray load the last of the boxes.

  “You leaving today?”

  “Yep. Got a few more shows to do before we wrap up the season.”

  “I guess circus is hard work. Packing up, moving all the time.”

  “We like the life. But after the last show, we’re always glad to head home. Get the kids back in school, see family, old friends again.”

  “So when will you be back here?”

  “Few days. But you’ll know we’re close long before you see us.”

  “How come?”

  “You’ll hear us coming! We take the elephants out of the trucks soon as we pull off the highway, let them parade into town. Horses, too. Llamas, yaks. We pull the covers off the cat cages so folks can see the tigers and lions through the bars. Clowns ride down Main in their miniature cars and buses.

  “The folks come out to see us, stand on their porches and wave, holler. Whistles, horns honk. Performers wear their costumes, throw candy to the kids waiting by the side of the street. Oh, it’s quite a show.”

  Even from the distance of his tent, Juan could see his father smiling, lost for a few moments in memories of other homecomings.

  “You really like it, don’t you,” Lutie said.

  “All I’ve ever known, all I’ve ever wanted to do. Hate to think about giving it up, but that’s the way life works.”

  “What do you mean? You gonna quit the circus?”

  “Might be able to hang on another year, but that’s about it, I think.”

  “Why?”

  “Look at me, girl. I’m an old SOB. Almost seventy, arthritis getting worse every season. Can’t trust my eyesight the way I need to. Mostly aches and pains that come with the years. I ain’t complaining. Man gets to work at something he cares about his whole life . . . can’t ask for more than that.

  “Things would be different, I guess, if I had a wife, but . . .”

  “What happened to the one you had? Juan and Essie’s mom?”

  “Gabriela. She came to this country with me many years ago. We had babies, and our circus family, but Gabby? She never took up with the life, this country. So she went back to Mexico.

  “Then, one by one my kids came back to me when they got older. First Armondo, my oldest boy, then—”

  “Where’s Armondo?”

  “Killed. Vietnam. Essie came next, Juan soon after, only son I’ve got left. The way he’s living, though, that ain’t no good.” Ray opened the hood of the pickup to check the oil.

  “I’m never gonna have kids.”

  “Why not?” Ray asked.

  “I don’t want to take care of anyone but myself. Once Fate’s old enough to be on his own, I’m gonna live by myself, make my own decisions. Do what I want.”

  “Well, you’re young yet. Might be you’ll change your mind someday.”

  Mama Sim came out the front door with a thermos jug and a brown paper sack. “Morning,” she said. “Lutie, I didn’t know you were up. Feeling okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Ray, I fixed you a couple of sandwiches and some boiled eggs for your trip.”

  “Mama, I’m not going cross-country this time. I’ll be in Tah-lequah before noon.”

  “I’ve never let one of you drive away from here without you have something to eat and drink on the road. Don’t need to start changing my ways now.”

  Ray slammed the hood, wiped his hands with a dirty towel, then shoved the towel into a bucket in the pickup bed. He gave his mother a hug, then roughed Lutie’s hair.

  “You girls be sweet now.”

  “When will you all be coming in?” Mama asked.

  “Depends on what happens with our contract in Stillwater.”

  “I might not be here,” Lutie said.

  “Where you planning to go?”

  “Wherever Juan is headed.”

  “Oh.” Ray leaned against the pickup fender, took off his cap, and ran his fingers through his hair. He had the look of a man who’d had too many disappointments in his life. “I’d hoped he was home to stay.”

  “Lutie, do you and Fate plan to stay with Juan?” Mama Sim asked.

  “Nope. I don’t think he wants a couple of kids to take care of.”

  “Any chance you might change your mind about going with him?”

  “We need to move on, get settled in some city so Fate can get back in school.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m not sure, but I don’t think I’ll go back to school. Seems like a waste of time.”

  “You need to save time? You got something to do right now? Some job you want to try?”

  “If I can’t be a model, I’d like to be a dancer, maybe an actress. I wouldn’t mind being a movie star.”

  “You could stay here,” Mama said. “I mean, until you decide where you’re gonna go, what you want to do. Stay with us. Me and Raynoldo, Essie and her kids.”

  “If you wanted to, you could work in the circus,” Ray said. “Try it out for a year. On the road for the season, then in school the rest of the time.”

  “What would I do in the circus? Sell popcorn, cotton candy? Learn to ride an elephant?” She laughed, then shook her head, an indication that she’d already dismissed Ray’s suggestion. “No, I guess we’ll move on.”

  “What about Fate?” Mama asked. “That what he wants?”

  “He’ll do what I tell him to.”

  “But do you think he’d like to stay with us?”

  “Doubt it. I think he’ll stay with me.”

  “Well, you said you didn’t want responsibility for anyone. Here’s your chance. Leave him here, then you can go off without anyone to worry about.”

  Lutie started chewing on a loose piece of skin on her knuckle, letting Mama and Ray wait for a response. Finally, she said, “I’ll ask him.”

  Ray opened the door of his pickup, but before he got in, Juan came from the direction of his tent, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

  “You taking off now?” he asked his father.

  “Yeah. I need to get back before our afternoon show.”

  “Ray, I forgot all about that laundry you brought home. It’s in the dryer now. Lutie, will you come in and help me fold it?” Then Mama shot the girl a look that said she didn’t have a choice.

  As soon as the screen door slammed behind Lutie, Ray got his pipe and tobacco off the pickup dash, lit up, then eased himself up on the Chevy’s fender.

  “We wake you up?”

  “I been awake since Draco left the tent.”

  The dog, hearing her name, came to sit at Juan’s feet, looking earnestly into his face as if following the conversation.

  “The girl told us you were leaving soon,” Ray said. “Sounds like she intends to go with you.”

  “That’s my plan. Can’t say about theirs. If they want a ride somewhere with me, I’ll take them.”

  “You going back to Vegas?”

  “Expect so. I like the weather. There’s work. Not a bad place for me.”

  “Someone lives in a tent, no family, not many friends, be my guess. Just you and your dog there.”

  “That’s about it.”

  Ray took a puff of his pipe, then leaned his head back and blew smoke into the clear morning air.

  “I’m going to tell you something you don’t know.”

  “Okay.”


  “I sent Mama and Essie to find you out there, in Vegas, bring you home. I’d heard about your accident, so I figured you’d come back here. Waited over a year for you to show up. But you didn’t. So I asked them to go get you, bring you home.”

  “They found me. Living on the street, strung out on crack, cheap wine. Whatever I could get. Lice in my hair, my pants soiled. They didn’t tell you because they didn’t want you to know how I ended up.”

  “Ended up? Hell, boy, you haven’t ended up yet, have you?”

  “Oh, I’m not messed up anymore, been clean four, five years now. Work when I can, but that’s about it. Seems pretty ‘ended up’ to me.”

  “You’re still young.”

  “I don’t see much in my future to be excited about.”

  “No reason you can’t work with me. I need someone to—”

  “What? What do you need, Papa? Sword swallower? Fire eater? You want me to feeding the cats, clean their cages? Or maybe direct traffic, make sure all vehicles in handicapped parking has a sticker?”

  “Hell, Juan, you ought to know that I wouldn’t—”

  “Here’s what I know. Circus isn’t such a good place for a cripple to work.”

  “Someone has to run the circus. It don’t run by itself. I can’t do it forever, and I’m not sure Dub wants to take over for me.”

  “Oh, I see. You want me to run it. Do the advance work, the billing, ordering. Make sure all contracts are signed and take care . . .” Juan walked a few feet away, stared down the road for several moments, as though he might be considering Raynoldo’s proposal. But then he wheeled, faced his father, and said, “No! See, here’s what you can’t understanding. After you’ve been at the top, it’s damn hard at the bottom.”

  “But it doesn’t have to be that way.”

  “Sure it does, Papa. My leg is never going to get better. I never going to do high wire again. My life was up there.” Juan gestured at the sky. “And it’s still up there, so far above the crowd I can’t even make out their faces. But I can hear them. . . .

 

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