Well, Silas was left out of that prayer. He should have held our hands.
I glanced over at him, but he didn’t seem to notice.
Momma squeezed my hand, so I looked in her direction. She smiled. What a sweet woman.
“Silas, you be a good boy and dish out that gumbo, it’s too large to pass around.” Momma said.
Calling Silas a “good boy” was funny. It was all I could do not to laugh.
Silas grabbed his bowl and started to load it up.
“You can pass that to Mr. Mackie.” Momma said when he put the plate down in front of himself.
He shot her a baleful look and reluctantly passed the bowl to Mackie, who in turn gave him an empty one in return.
While he was doing that, Momma started to talk.
“Maudie gave me this recipe for gumbo. I didn’t like okra in my gumbo, but it’s the way you cook it down before you add the rest of the ingredients. It’s mighty good. Especially if you put a little hot vinegar on it. Mackie plants me some jalapeño pepper plants every year so I can put up several jars to last the year.”
She started to shake some hot vinegar on her food. It looked like a lot to me, but then what do I know? I’ve never eaten hot vinegar before.
She passed me the bottle, and I gingerly shook on a few drops.
“That’s kind of light girl. But you’re from down south, aren’t you?”
I paused with my spoon in midair. “Yes, ma’am, I was raised in Baton Rouge.”
“Baton Rouge?” She took a bite and thought on that for a minute.
I bit into a spoonful of gumbo and thought my mouth was on fire. I grabbed for my glass of tea, and drank about half of it down.
Momma was laughing, in fact, everyone was laughing.
“You must have a sweet mouth, ‘cause you didn’t hardly put any vinegar on that dish.” Momma said.
I rather gasped for air. Geez, I think I broke into a sweat. My whole body was on fire.
“Don’t be afraid. It’s usually the first bite that’s the stomper, it’ll be okay now.” Momma said.
“Yeah. It keeps your heart ticking.” Mackie said.
Well, considering these two were in their nineties, it sure couldn’t hurt.
I slowly took another bite, and while hot, it didn’t burn as much. I guess not, I think my taste buds were singed beyond feeling.
“Sara brought you a coffee cake, Momma.” Bitsy said.
Momma’s eyes lit up. “That’s nice. I love a good coffee cake. Bitsy told me you make a mean lemon cookie.”
I smiled. “Yes, ma’am. I’d be delighted to make you some one day.”
We ate in silence. Silas got seconds. T-Beau was silent throughout the whole meal, and when done, he excused himself and took his plate out to the kitchen. We could hear him washing dishes.
Momma said. “That sure is a good child, even though his hair is orange. But that doesn’t matter. I learned a long time ago not to look at the outside of people, but to look inside and see what they are really made of. That kid is made of good stuff.”
I had to agree.
“He comes over most afternoons, helps out with supper, eats, cleans up, does a few chores for us, then off he goes. Can’t ask better than that. His momma works the afternoon shift at the hospital, else she’d be here today.”
I nodded.
Silas stood up, leaving his plate on the table. He walked into the living room, and the television started to blare out a football game.
Mackie heard the game and finished eating. He, too, got up and left the room.
I finally managed to finish the last of my dinner, and stood up to grab my plate, when Momma’s hand reached over and grasped my arm.
“Wait a minute. Bitsy will do that. I need to tell you something.”
I sat down with a thud, my heart beating fast.
Bitsy took several plates and stepped into the kitchen, closing the door.
“I taught school when I was younger. Maudie was one of my students.”
Her hand remained on my arm, and she started to stroke it.
“Maudie was a good kid. Happy, always smiling. She was a joy to teach.”
Momma looked out the window.
“Then she was raped in the fifth grade.”
I gasped.
Momma turned to look at me. “Don’t hardly anyone know that happened to her. This town is wild for gossip. I discovered her, back behind the storage room, where she was left, like a dirty tissue, just used and thrown on the ground. Like to broke my heart. A little girl like that.”
Her hand still rubbed my arm.
“Seems it was a stranger, going through town.”
My heart went out to my mother. And to Momma for telling me this.
“Did they catch him?”
Momma smiled. It wasn’t pretty.
“Seems like he liked to jump trains. Apparently he grabbed another little girl in the next town over, abused her, and ran for the train and jumped wrong and fell under the wheels. He managed to lose both legs. He died in jail. God punished him for his evil doings.”
So, there is a God protecting the innocent. Too bad, he didn’t act sooner.
“Is that what you needed to tell me?”
“Yes. But there’s more.”
I felt my stomach clench. Bitsy came into the dining room and saw us both sitting there, glum. She picked up the rest of the dirty dishes, then left us alone.
“Your mama never did get any closer to any boy after that. Oh, a few kisses here and there. But anytime one tried to get close, she backed off.”
“Did she ever tell you why?” I asked.
“Oh, yes. That poor girl came to me every time she broke up with someone, crying. Wondering if there was something wrong with her. I just told her that the right fella hadn’t come along yet.”
“Did she ever tell you when he did?”
Momma shook her head. “Yes. She danced in here one day, and was happy as could be. She wouldn’t tell me why, but I knew. Only the next time I saw her, she was sadder than that day so many years ago. It seemed like all the life had been taken out of her.”
What did happen? She was happy, then not. Was it because of me? Did she find out that she was pregnant? I didn’t know what to think anymore.
“That’s all you know?”
Momma shook her head. “Yes. Only her, her parents, the doctor and sheriff knew the details of the rape. We all kept it quiet. It would have destroyed her life here. I’m the only one alive who remembers it.”
She looked at me directly. “And don’t you be telling anybody either. It’s past history. What’s done is done.”
Who to tell? There was no one in my life it seemed. Not even Grant.
“I won’t tell.” I whispered.
Momma squeezed my arm. “That’s a good girl.”
I didn’t feel like a good girl. I felt like shit.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
T-Beau drove me home in Bitsy’s clunker. He was a little rough on the gear shift, but we sputtered in one piece in front of the shop.
I pushed the car door open, when he appeared at my side.
“I was supposed to do that,” he said.
Wow! Someone was training this kid right.
I grinned at him and gave him my hand. “Well, pull my carcass out of this tin trap and we’ll call it even.”
His hand was strong and firm as he pulled me out. He slammed the car door and stood there, brushing his hand through his orange hair.
“I just wanted to thank you for the work yesterday,” he said.
“No. It’s thank you. I needed some help getting that table to Margie’s house, and you came through for me.”
He brushed his hand through his hair again. It was sticking straight up. He hesitated slightly, then said, “Thanks for being good to Bitsy. She really misses Maudie. It’s been hard on her.”
“Thanks, T-Beau. I adore your grandmother.”
“So do I, Miss Sara. So do I.”
&n
bsp; I watched him get back in the car and drive off. I wondered if I would ever have grandchildren who adored me.
It was hard enough to get just one person to adore me. I glanced at the upstairs apartment. The porch beckoned me with its ferns and bright pillows.
* * *
Grant wasn’t home. So much for “we need to talk.”
I changed my clothes into something comfortable and trekked downstairs to finish up Maudie’s office, I’d take a break on the porch when I finished, or in an hour, whichever came first. I no sooner got half way down the stairs when the phone rang.
My stomach clenched. I didn’t know if I wanted to answer it. But I trotted down the rest of the way and grabbed it on the third ring.
“Sara?”
It was Alice on the other end. “Yes.”
“Can you come over? I found someone you might be interested in meeting.”
I inwardly groaned. But managed to say yes, got the driving instructions and was headed in her direction in five minutes.
I pulled up in front of a small house. It could have fit four or five times in the antique store.
It was old, but well cared for. Two massive multi-flowering red rose bushes flanked the steps. Two rocking chairs sat on the porch. The door opened just as I was beginning to knock.
Alice stood there. A huge smile on her face.
I felt my tension relaxing. I was tired of all the melodrama. I really wanted to find out who my father was and leave. The whole process was draining me.
She opened the door fully and invited me in. “Oh, girl. You are so lucky!”
I felt lucky. Like the rabbit who has his left hind foot taken off.
Inside was a gnome of woman. She was mushed into a wheelchair with a lace doily perched on her head. She looked to be a zillion years old, and about four feet tall. There wasn’t a wrinkle on her face.
But her hands told her life story. They were gnarled, worn, totally misshapen. They were beautiful in their ugliness.
She grasped a rosary in her hand, slowly moving from one bead to the next. Her eyes never left mine.
They were friendly and warm. As though she waited a long time for me to come, and I finally arrived.
“This is Aunt Weez.” Alice said.
I held out my hand to her and she took it in both of hers. They were warm and dry, and she held on.
I knelt by her wheelchair, waiting for her to loosen her grasp on me.
Her gaze swept over my face, lingering, analyzing, searching.
I wondered what she saw in me that was so interesting.
She raised one of her hands to my face and traced my eyebrow with her fingertip. Then took a lock of my hair and felt its weight.
“You remind me of someone,” she said.
I felt myself become tense again.
She smiled. “It’s been a long time, but I remembers this hair.”
She patted me on the head. I was dismissed.
I slowly stood up and glanced at Alice.
I know she could see the question in my eyes.
“Come sit.” Alice said.
So, I sat.
“Aunt Weez was telling me about Maudie. She was her housekeeper for a brief spell, when Maudie was sick.”
Maudie was sick? All I’d been hearing about was this vibrant ball of energy.
“When was this?”
Aunt Weez started to talk. “That be about the year my Rufus died. What year was that Alice? I forgets.”
Alice glanced my way. “The year you were born, in the early spring.”
My heart began to hammer.
“Maudie was an independent soul. Never did need help. But for a while there she was sicker than a dog.” Aunt Weez started to push beads with her fingertips.
A buzzing started in my ears.
“She couldn’t keep any food down. Could hardly get out of bed at all.”
Click, click, click went the beads in her hands.
Thump, thump, thump went my heart.
“I told her she was pregnant.” Aunt Weez said.
My heart stopped.
“She just laughed, telling me I was crazy, telling me you had to sleep with someone to get pregnant. Like I didn’t have seven kids and knew that.”
Aunt Weez closed her eyes. Then rocked back and forth a little in the wheelchair.
“I hear you make cookies,” she said.
That stopped my thinking. Cookies?
“I hear you make good cookies.”
I shook myself a little. “Yes, Miss Weez. Would you like me to make you some?”
I wasn’t above a little bribery.
She opened her eyes, smiled, then asked. “How about some of them lemon ones?”
I had to smile. If a batch of cookies would give me the information I was seeking, a batch of cookies it would be.
“I’d be delighted.”
She rocked a bit more. “I don’t know who your Daddy is. So if you don’t want to bring me any cookies I understand.”
I smiled. Bribery was out I guess. Honesty was in.
“I’d still be delighted to bring you some.”
She grinned. “I thought you would, but I had to ask.”
I glanced at Alice with a “is that all” look in my eyes.
She nodded at me. So I stood up, and started to leave.
“I’m going to try to remembers who you remind me of.” Aunt Weez said.
I bent over and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “It’s okay if you don’t remember. I might give up this quest. Too many people are getting hurt.”
She seemed distraught. “Don’t be giving up girl. If I would have gave up, those seven children wouldn’t have gone to college. Don’t be giving up. Maudie never gave up.”
She shook her finger at me. “I never told anyone that I thought Maudie was going to have a baby. Maybe it was you. Maybe it was my pondering. I don’t know. All that matters is that you make Maudie proud. That’s all a momma wants, to be proud of the way her children grows up.”
I left with Alice following me to the car.
“See, I told you, you are lucky.”
I turned and looked at her beaming face. “How? I don’t understand.”
“Well, hell, girl. At least I’m not your step momma!” She said.
I had to laugh!
I think I might prefer Alice over Joanna any day.
* * *
I took the long way back to the store. Well, I don’t know if it was the long way or not, I just drove up and down streets, thinking.
I checked my watch and it was only three-thirty. I decided to drive to Baton Rouge. I wanted to check something out that was bothering me.
Calling the apartment, the answering machine picked up. Grant was still gone. I left a message that under the conditions of the will I could leave town if I was back within twenty-four hours, so I was heading for Baton Rouge to get some clothes and to pick up my mail. I would be back tomorrow.
I didn’t leave my phone number.
I didn’t especially want to ’talk’ with Grant.
I didn’t go to the apartment either. I just hit the road.
* * *
I arrived in Baton Rouge at close to seven. My parent’s house smelled musty from lack of fresh air. The mail was piled on the floor. I picked it up and brought it into the kitchen. I needed to have it forwarded to Boggy Bayou. That is if I decided to go back. I was seriously considering giving up the whole thing.
I was hungry so I rummaged around the refrigerator and made an omelet. A favorite standby. Then I made a note to myself to clean out the perishables and bring them to the apartment in the morning, that is, if I decided to go back.
I can’t stand waste.
I packed some sensible clothing this time. Plus some warm things, since you never knew when the weather would turn ugly in Louisiana. I couldn’t find my heavy coat, just in case, so I went into the hall storage to see if it was there.
Ugh! It was stuffed with stuff. How like a closet!
>
The hangers of coats and jackets were packed so tight that it was hard to separate them and see what was hanging on each one.
I managed to spot it in the back, and with great effort pulled it out of the closet, knocking the shelf above it. Sure enough, several boxes tumbled out and landed on the floor.
I picked them up and tried to stuff them back the way they were, but fat chance!
I needed to go through all these things, and dispose of them before the house sold.
After my mother’s death, I just didn’t have the urge to go through everything. But, now--
Perhaps there were some answers here.
That thought sort of woke me up.
I left the boxes in the hallway, then went to Father’s study. Any paperwork would be there. He died when I was nine, but it was always called Father’s study.
I dropped my coat on a chair. Turned on his desk light, and started to go through the drawers.
How neat everything was. That was one reason I rented an apartment as I went to college. To be on my own. To leave my bed unmade. To stay in my jammies all day if I wanted to.
Even when I earned my degree, I rented my own apartment, instead of moving back in. I learned in college that I did like things neat, but not as neat as my mother wanted things to be.
I wondered at their decision to take on a baby later in life. Edna wasn’t that much of a loving mother.
Oh, I had the dance lessons, and piano lessons, with swimming lessons, etc. But none of the little things were done out of love, but of a necessity that “mothers” did that. I knew Edna wouldn’t want anyone to criticize my upbringing.
Ralph was another thing altogether. I think he really did love me. But he certainly hated noise. I think if I could have just been paraded out for those rare ‘family’ moments, then everything would have been wonderful for him. But the daily grind of raising a child was way too much for them.
When he died, she sent me away to boarding school. It was in New England, so I only went home during holidays and breaks. Summertime was spent at a variety of camps.
I threw open the bottom left-hand drawer and found a bonanza. A bottle of bourbon.
The Devil Has Dimples Page 15