by Anne Lovett
Just to see what it was like, I said.
You have your own church, said Momma.
Christmas came at last, and Mimi and Mr. Linley came over for dinner. She had married him after my grandpa died and always called him Mr. Linley so the rest of us did too. We swapped presents and had a good time, all except for Ava, who looked like she wished she was somewhere else, lonesome as a hound baying at the moon, and Mimi asked her if she was missing her army boyfriend. She said yes, it was hard to think of him all alone over there with the tigers and the snakes, and Chap laughed and said he wasn’t exactly alone, and Momma huffed and said, Chap how could you, and he said, I just meant the boy had good buddies.
We had all packed a box to send to him full of books and insect repellent and Baby Ruth bars and Camel cigarettes and coffee. I had written him a Christmas card all by myself and signed it lots of love forever, your friend, Mae Lee Willis, and hoped he would get the message. Ava held up her wrist and showed us a beautiful gold bracelet and said it had come from him. I asked how he had bought it out there in the jungle but she said they have ways.
I thought about that bracelet a lot and decided to ask Momma to take me to the library to get some books. And sure enough, back in the picture book section, putting books back on the shelves was Mis’ Celia. My heart dropped to about my feet when she said, Hello, Gwen, hello, Mae Lee, and then leaned over and whispered when are you coming to church with me?
Momma stared at me as hard as if I had come out of the house buck naked. Oh, Mis’ Celia, I said. I don’t know. I want some horse books. I really love horses.
Over there, she said to me, winking. Second shelf. I walked over to the right bookshelf but not before I heard her say, Oh Gwen, do let her come. I promise I won’t try to convert her.
Momma waited until we got home with my stack of horse books as well as a book on Maisie Flynn, Reporter, which Momma said was too advanced for me. I wanted it because Maisie was nosy and asked questions. Then she said, what was that all about with Mis’ Celia? Going to church?
I got all red and said, well that day I was late from school, I told you a story. The real thing was, I stopped and had some tea and cookies with her and I met Father Leo.
Start at the beginning, Momma said. Why were you over there?
Willie Pennyman said there was a haunted house. I wanted to see it.
I told her most of the story but left out the real reason I went.
Well, your father would be against going to her church.
And I thought that was that. But then Mabel Conable came over.
Chapter Eight
Momma was out in the backyard with a basket full of wet clothes when Mabel Conable rode up in the truck and parked in the driveway. Momma finished pegging up a blue work shirt of Chap’s and I handed her another clothespin and we watched Mabel walk over, the clothes flapping in the breeze. Mabel gave me the eye.
Gwen, I got something to tell you, she said.
Mae Lee, go on in the house and get Mabel and me some iced tea, Momma said.
I watched them out of the open kitchen window while I took out the ice trays and pulled the handle and banged them on the edge of the sink to make the ice come out. I filled the glasses and poured the tea.
I started to carry out the tea and got as far as the screen door when I saw Mabel lean over and fish some boxer shorts out of the basket and hand them to Momma to hang. Gwen, she said, you are my dear friend so I am going to tell you what people been saying. She couldn’t see me behind the screen and didn’t lower her voice.
And what is that, Mabel? Momma pegged the shorts and took an undershirt.
Mabel got kind of red and said, it’s about Ava and Hardy Pritchard.
You do know she works for him. Momma took two clothespins out of her pocket and snapped the undershirt on the line.
Mabel picked up another damp shirt and turned it in her hands. Well they were at the drive-in barbecue down by the river last night, three people saw them.
Momma passed her some clothespins. Here, you can hang that as good as me. She bent for a towel. Ava sometimes works late, and there’s no place else open. Mabel, maybe they were hungry after all that work.
It’s dark under them trees, Mabel said, moving down the line to find room for the shirt.
What are you trying to say, Mabel? said Momma.
There’s the bracelet. Mabel could be stubborn.
Dulany Radford gave her that bracelet, said Momma.
Jane Peabody was in Webb’s jewelry buying a silver cup for her grandbaby and she saw Hardy Pritchard buying a gold bracelet.
So you are going to ask Celia Pritchard if she got a gold bracelet from her husband, Mabel? I am sick of all this gossip. You will be surprised to know that Celia Pritchard is a friend of this family and has asked Mae Lee to go to church with her.
What? said Mabel and her mouth hung open.
I figured this was my cue to go out the door with the tea glasses so that was what I did. Momma looked relieved to see me. Aren’t you planning to go to church with Celia Pritchard, Mae Lee?
She was looking at me with a bedsheet in her hand like she knew I had been listening. Yes, ma’am, I said.
She’s going this very Sunday, Momma said. Come here and help me with this bedsheet, Mae Lee.
Mabel took the tea glasses and I helped Momma with the bedsheet. Mabel drank her tea like she had been out in the burning desert with all the camels. Well, I can see you’re busy, she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
Mae Lee, you forgot to bring the napkins, Momma scolded.
I ran into the house to get them, but when I got back, Mabel was gone.
Are you sure about this, Gwen? Chap said at the breakfast table Sunday morning with the house smelling of bacon and pancakes.
It’ll do her good, Chap, to see how other people worship. She had braided my hair into two fat pigtails and buckled my feet into my black patent Mary Janes and I was wearing my best dress. I stirred the food on my plate. I was too nervous to be hungry.
What is Ava going to say? Chap chuckled. Maybe you should have told her. Maybe you shouldn’t have let her spend the night out.
Momma shrugged. She’ll have to like it, she said, and there was flint and steel in her voice.
Don’t let the Pope tell you what to do, Chap said to me, and winked.
Who is the Pope? I said.
Father Leo’s boss, Chap said.
I thought that was God, I said.
That’s just the point, Chap said.
Don’t confuse the child, Momma said. One day it will become clear to you, she said to me. Now go outside and wait on the porch for Mis’ Celia.
I waited on the porch swing, pumping back and forth, and the Cadillac stopped in front of our house a few minutes later. This time it was for me.
Where’s your sister this morning? Mis’ Celia wanted to know, even before I got the door shut good.
She spent the night over at Barbara’s, I said.
Would that be Barbara McIntosh?
Yes, I said. They’re best friends.
How fascinating, said Mis’ Celia, but I didn’t see anything fascinating about it. What were they going to do? Mis’ Celia asked.
I shrugged. They like to go to movies. And dances.
Does she dance with lots of boys?
They both do, I said.
Thank the Lord it wasn’t far to her church. It wasn’t much different from the outside from the Methodist or the Baptist churches. Like them, it was made of red brick with a white steeple, but it was smaller and set on a little grassy hill and we walked up about ninety steps to get there.
Once inside, I decided they had John Wesley beat six ways to Sunday. The inside was painted a soft cream color and the carpet was red, and the stained glass windows were red and blue and green and purple and gold, and the figures in the glass wore crowns and sad eyes and held onto their robes to keep them from dragging the ground, and there were statues in niches on the walls
, and the smell was rich and perfumy.
John Wesley with its brown wood and white plaster and milky windows and smell of musty hymn books seemed awfully dull, and while we had a plain cross, St. Lawrence’s had a golden cross with Jesus hanging from it that I couldn’t quit looking at.
I heard a familiar giggle and turned to the left. Across the aisle sat Lourdes Sanchez and she grinned at me and I grinned back and then the organ started and Mis’ Celia patted my hand and I had to be quiet.
Father Leo gave a sermon about Love beareth all things and believeth all things and endureth all things, which I liked, and Mis’ Celia wiped at her eyes with a handkerchief and then they took the Lord’s Supper but I did not and I later found out it was not saltines and grape juice.
After the service, Father Leo smiled his Santa-cheeked smile and told me to come again. Cecilia needs a child in her life, he said.
On the way home Mis’ Celia chattered on about the service, explaining it all, and I was only half listening because I wondered why she and Hardy Pritchard did not have any children. I was going to ask but I heard the voice of Momma in my head telling me not to be so nosy all the time even though Maisie Flynn, Girl Reporter, would get no stories if she was not nosy, and Nancy Drew would solve no mysteries. Well, yes, they got in trouble in the books, so I guess trouble did go with being nosy. When Mis’ Celia pulled up in front of our house, lo and behold there was Barbara McIntosh’s father’s car and Ava was getting out of it with her pillowcase gripped in one hand. She turned around and saw us. She opened her mouth halfway as if she had seen a giant boulder coming at her from out of the sky. Then she closed her mouth and hurried into the house.
Mis’ Celia just sat there a minute looking thoughtful. She could have come over and spoken to me, she said. You would think she would. After all, my husband pays her salary.
Maybe she had to go to the bathroom, I said.
No, dear, she said, and patted my hand. It’s all right. She was just afraid, that’s all. Now she sounded tired and weary as though she had gone on a long journey instead of church.
Mis’ Celia, you’re not scary. I don’t see why she should be scared of you.
She started to say something but stopped. Then she gave a short little laugh. Thank you, dear. I must pray, she said, and right away took a set of beads out of her pocket and half closed her eyes and started saying something so fast and breathlessly I couldn’t understand. I did not didn’t know what she was doing and her fingers were moving on the beads. They were pretty beads, red ones and clear ones and there was one of those Jesuses on the end.
When she had finished she opened her eyes and she was smiling.
What’s that? I said.
It’s a rosary. Next time I’ll show you how to use it to pray, but I think you’d better go in now.
Yes, ma’am, I said. Thank you for taking me to church, Mis’ Celia.
Will you come again sometime?
I stopped. If they let me, I said, and then I leaped out and walked to the house. I didn’t look back as she drove off.
Unfortunately, Momma and Chap were not back from church yet. They were probably still out front in the sunshine talking with the preacher or Mabel or Lord knows who all and it was just me and Ava in the house.
She had a terrible look on her face, the only way in the world she could ever look ugly, and she was ugly now, and she said, What in hell were you doing with Celia Pritchard?
Going to church, I said. To make me good. Not like some people.
She reached to yank my hair but I stepped back and stood my ground. Momma asked her if I could go, I said.
Ava stood there, her hand out in midair, nails ready. What? Doesn’t she know that woman is crazy?
She is no more crazy than you are, Ava Willis.
She has bad nerves.
She has beads, I said, and she prays with them. She is going to pray for you.
Ava turned pale then and turned around and went to our room and locked the door.
No fair, I said, I want to change out of my Sunday dress.
I could hear her crying into her pillow. When Chap’s car came rumbling in the driveway she unlocked the door and came out.
It’s all yours, she said, but the tears were gone and there was a hard look in her eyes.
Chapter Nine
Ava got more and more distant from all of us and went around with this faraway look. She still put money in the family pot, and if anybody tried to ask what was on her mind, she just said, I help to pay the bills around here, leave me alone, which was rude but nobody could do anything with her. We needed money to help pay the doctor bills because the doctors finally decided what Momma had was something called lupus and kept trying different medicines. Nothing seemed to work.
When the doorbell rang one day in October, Ava was still at work and Momma was in the kitchen slicing carrots and potatoes for soup, a hambone simmering in the pot, and that pot would get all our leftover vegetables for the week. I went to the door, and there was a soldier standing there.
He was tan and sun-blond, eyes as blue as a butterfly wing, grinning like a fool. There was a redheaded girl waiting for him in a green convertible at the curb. Hello, cutie, is this where Ava Willis lives? he said.
Yes, but she’s at work.
Got a letter from her sweetie. Carried it a long way.
I held out my hand. I’m her sister. I’ll give it to her.
He frowned and said, I was supposed to put it into her hands and give her a kiss from old Duke. Can I kiss you?
My cheeks burned then because he was really cute and I figured he was teasing me. I’ll get Momma, I said.
He laughed and handed it over and bowed. With my very best wishes, princess. Tell her Jack Austin was here.
I hugged the letter to my chest with both hands and remembered my manners. Would you like to come in? I asked.
He glanced back to the girl in the car. My ride’s waiting, he said, otherwise I would love to. Then he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek and ran out to the car and leaped in and they sped away. I rubbed my cheek, feeling like I wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.
I ran into the kitchen where Momma was bent over the cutting board chopping celery for the soup. Who was at the door, Mae Lee?
A man from the army.
Ohmygod, she said, and she grabbed the letter I was holding out. It’s from Duke, she said, looking at it, and slumped back down. Don’t scare me like that.
I wasn’t trying to, I said.
I’m glad he wrote. I hope it’s not too late, she said, scooping up the celery and dumping it in a bowl. She reached for a peeled carrot.
What do you mean?
She just shook her head and sliced the carrot into strips. She’s tired of waiting, Momma said. She can’t see beyond tomorrow. She thinks he won’t come back. I just hope she doesn’t write him a Dear John letter.
What’s that? I watched her work crosswise on the carrot strips, making them into tiny blocks.
She dumped the carrot blocks into the bowl. It’s when you write somebody and say you met somebody else. It’s especially bad for soldiers because it makes them give up. They quit fighting. They quit wanting to live. If Chap didn’t love me like he does—
Hush, Momma, I begged. I knew she was talking about her sickness. You have to keep fighting.
She lifted the lid off the stock pot already smelling like tomatoes and sweet ham and poured in the vegetables, along with bowls of peas and beans and corn. I will, she said. I’ve got the three of you to live for. Now go get me the cornmeal from the pantry.
I don’t know when Ava read her letter that night because she didn’t say anything to any of us. She knew we were all waiting around for her to tell us, but nobody wanted to ask for fear of getting their head bitten off.
I only found the letter because she tried to flush it down the commode and it didn’t go down. Some came floating back up, four soggy pieces where she had torn it. I fished them out with a stick and
spread them out on the top of the space heater after Ava went out.
I was glad he had written in pencil.
What happened to the tender loving girl I left behind? Your letters are so vague lately. We are having a god-awful time of it here. The tigers and snakes are bad enough without the bones and rotting corpses. The Japs are never far away. We never seem to get enough to eat except when we encounter a friendly village. Then they give us a big feed of curry.
The work is interesting and dangerous, but don’t worry about old Duke. He is a tough character, at least that’s what my buddies tell me after I’ve cleaned them out at poker. We pay the natives with dope, and they work like hell for us. I got banged up a little, but I’m here at the base hospital recovering. They were going to send me home but I asked to stay. Out here it’s patch up and keep fighting.
I keep going by the thought of defeating the Japs and bringing this war to an end so I can get back home to you. It’s a great feeling knowing you’re waiting for me. I kiss your picture every night. It’s torn and ragged from traveling.
What was the matter with her, anyhow? How could she like that stupid Hardy Pritchard?
I watched her every day but far as I could see, she didn’t write back.
Finally on Friday I asked her, Have you written Duke?
She folded her arms. Is that any of your business?
I shrugged. Momma said that if they get a Dear John letter they will quit fighting and give up and get themselves killed.
What makes you think I’m going to write any such thing?
So what are you going to write then?
Look, she said, if you care so much, why don’t you write to him?
I will, I said. He’s coming back, you know. He needs to know somebody loves him. He needs to know you love him.
I’ll write in my own good time.
So can I write him?
Suit yourself. She walked out of the room like she just didn’t care, and I knew then she wasn’t going to write.
I wasn’t going to let him give up and die. I wanted him to come back and be in our family, to be my big brother if I couldn’t marry him. A brother who thought I was special.