by Diane Munier
I can’t believe when the bank man is counting out thirty six dollars with a twenty dollar bill, a ten and a five and a one. It’s like Monopoly but all real.
I look around like I am robbing the bank. I nearly expect my granma to be grabbing my shoulder again. And once I have that money stuffed in my purse, I expect her and Aunt May to be in the parking lot. But they are nowhere around. So I put my purse in the basket and I prepare to go straight home. Or I will go straight home after I ride to Easy’s house and give him this thirty-six dollars. Then I’ll tell him good-bye cause I’m probably not going to be seeing him or anyone outside of my class or at the church for a good long while.
But when you love someone you have to be willing to sacrifice.
And I love Easy that much.
Darnay Road 40
I am glad to have the bike ride and I’m not in a really big hurry but I’m not exactly dawdling either because it wouldn’t surprise me a bit to have Aunt May pull alongside the curb because I took too long to get home.
So I’m going medium speed and my purse is rattling a little in my basket. I feel the weight of a fortune in there. That is what Granma called it—a fortune. But I reach the place where I can turn off for Scutter, and I never thought I’d be so happy about it. I get over the grass and tracks and through a gangway that leads to Scutter and I am peddling faster to reach Easy’s house.
I get there and I don’t hear his dog, not even when I go up on the porch. I knock and knock but Easy doesn’t answer. I call him too, but he doesn’t show. Well, he could be at big white or big gray or Nettie’s for all I know.
So there is a flower pot on the end of the porch. No flower, of course, just hard dirt. I drag that heavy pot near the door and I kneel and get the money out of my purse and put the money under the pot. I leave enough peak out that he can see it if he looks. I think he will cause this pot doesn’t normally sit right smack in front of his door.
I get along then, back to the gangway and across the tracks and through Miss Little’s. The yard looks strange without being overgrown. I look at her windows, but no sign of life shows.
Once on Darnay I look up at the trees, Sycamores mostly, lining the street. I guess I won’t be seeing these for a while except from my window or when I walk to school. Maybe then, but not as a free American.
So I get home and she is on the porch and I’m coming from the wrong way and it doesn’t matter now. “Hello Granma,” I say leaning my bike against Easy’s wonderful paint job on the porch. She stands very, very tall at the top of the porch stairs and I take them slowly, my purse in my hand.
“Millie called,” she says. “I suppose you did it.”
I am looking at her. “You can’t say anything to him. Not anything. You’ll ruin it if you do.”
“Oh my dear and darling girl I can do anything I need to do in a case like this,” she says.
“Yes Ma’am. But I will take the punishment so you don’t need to bother Easy about it.”
She blows a big breath and looks at the sky. “I blame myself and Hayley Mills and that gosh-darn movie Tiger Bay.”
I gasp. Tiger Bay is my all time most, most favorite movie ever made. Mine and Abigail May’s. But Easy is not Korchinski. In the movie, Hayley Mills knows Horst Buchholz who plays Korchinski murdered his girlfriend but she’ll do anything to protect him. I admit I admired the daylights out of Mill’s character Gillie who is about the best girl I ever, ever knew, and I did love Korchinski, too, but Easy hasn’t killed anyone.
At least…well if he did…he didn’t mean to.
“Granma, you can punish me now,” I say.
She stands aside and waves her hand and I slowly finish my walk up the stairs and past my Granma. I hold my hands in front of me, wrists touching like I’m wearing handcuffs. I imagine black and white stripes painting themselves around me, and a little convict hat on top of my braids.
I’m a prisoner now. But I’m smiling inside where it won’t look disrespectful. I’m smiling because that money is under that pot and Easy will find it now and Cap and his mom will come home.
He comes over around two. I would have called him and warned him off but he doesn’t have a phone. I should have left a note. Some spy I am.
I have seen him come up the walk. He puts his bike on the fence and pushes through the gate. As soon as I see him, the sun in his hair, I about know I would do it all over again—rob the bank.
But I hurry to the top of the stairs because she has him right off. He is on the porch and she is talking through the screen. I hear the word trust.
He looks past her at me cause I’m on the stairs now, my barefeet so quiet, me so quiet. He looks at me and I look at him and he is my Korchinski. He’s dark like that. Granma knew when I didn’t.
Granma turns cause she is caught between our looking. I have given him the money and no one ever has and it is in his look. I wasn’t expecting anything. That is love. Granma has taught me that and taught me that.
But he hasn’t had love. I am so glad he feels it now. Like me.
Granma turns some more, her hands going to her hips. I look at her, but I can’t stop looking at Easy for long.
“You’re in trouble,” he says.
But he’s in trouble. That’s what this was about, not me.
“It’s okay,” I say, eyes darting between them.
“If you would have come to me,” she says and I see then, the money in his hand.
“I meant to pay it back,” he says to Granma. He pulls the door and tries to hand her the money and she takes it and puts it in her apron pocket.
“No,” I say coming off the stairs. “Granma you can’t. It’s mine and I gave that to Easy so that makes it his.”
“Easy knows it was wrong,” Granma says. She widens the door and moves her head a little and he comes in.
“You come in the kitchen and tell me what this is about,” she says.
“I’m so sorry Easy,” I say.
“It’s all right,” he says softly. I just stop talking then. We follow my Granma into the kitchen. We sit around the table. I can see Easy is tired. He’s worked all day like usual. I am so sorry to do this.
I jump up.
“Where you going?” Granma says.
“To get Easy a drink,” I say in a meaner way than I meant. “And lunch,” I add.
Now Granma gets up too. “Watch your tone Georgia,” she says to me. “And sit.”
I don’t answer, just look at Easy as I slowly retake my seat. I fold my hands on the table and while Granma is getting him a big glass of iced tea and making him sandwiches, cause he eats at least two and we know he’s holding back, he reaches across that little table and around the salt and peppers that look like ears of corn, and with just one finger he touches the knuckles on my one hand.
I want to tell him it will be okay. But I think you should know some things before you say it.
He’s not worried, but he expects things to go wrong.
Granma brings his food and drink to the table, but he cares more about looking at me than eating his food. I hope he doesn’t feel sorry about my punishment. I heard Granma tell him at the door that I am grounded. But letting him in and me at the table is just pure luck I guess.
“Easy, I hope you are not going to make this difficult,” Granma says.
“You didn’t tell her?” he says to me.
“I said I wouldn’t. But I probably did say too much. She knows it was for you,” I say meaning the money.
“According to Georgia you are in some kind of trouble,” Granma says.
There is a knock at the front door and Aunt May calls and Granma calls she should come on in.
I fidget in my hands and feet cause this will make it harder than ever for Easy to tell the truth.
“May knows all about it, Easy,” Granma says.
Aunt May enters the kitchen. “You in some kind of trouble youngster?” she says.
“No,” Easy answers firmly. “Not real trouble. I was trying
to get enough to bring Beaucap home.”
Granma and May look at one another like they just cracked the code to the secret passage.
Easy looks at me and my lips are pressed as tightly as two lips can be.
“I see,” Granma says like this is a revelation.
“Well I never,” Aunt May says pulling the last chair and sitting heavily upon it even though she is not so heavy as grown ladies go.
“I would hope you could come to us,” Granma says to him. “Go on and eat your sandwich.”
Easy looks at me and he takes one half of one sandwich and puts it to his mouth and nibbles at it like a hamster which is never the way Easy eats.
“Thirty-six dollars is a sight of money. Is your brother in Alaska?” Aunt May says. “Was there something more? Something you’re not telling us?”
I swallow so loudly it sounds like I just crinkled my lunch bag at school.
“No,” Easy says. He takes a bigger bite then.
“He got a paper route,” I pipe up.
He’s looking at me and first time I see the littlest smile in his eyes.
“Well where does all this money you’re making go to?” Granma asks, and his smiles goes right back to nothing.
“Home. I help out,” he says with his mouth pretty full but I don’t know what they expect firing questions like this.
“We figured you did,” Aunt May says. “What if we were to visit your mother and see what we could do? There is a fund at Sacred Heart, I could talk to An…Father Anthony and see if something couldn’t be done for relief.”
“No,” Easy says very firmly. “Thank you Miss May but no.” I am so relieved he knows manners. He does, they are just a little rough.
“Well if she is sick it may not be yours to decide,” Aunt May says.
“She don’t like company,” Easy says, looking directly at Aunt May.
“We would not bother her, but there can be meals and cleaning. Maybe a ride to the doctor’s office?” Granma says.
Easy stands now and he bumps the table and his tea sloshes. He looks surprised he did that. “I ain’t asking for this,” he says. “I just wanted to bring them home.”
“Them?” Aunt May says. “Are there more children than the brother?”
Easy looks at me and he’s shaking his head. I stand too. “It’s all right,” I tell him. “Don’t get upset.” But I am so upset my stomach hurts. “He means Cap. That’s all,” I tell Aunt May. “He’s not used to questions like this.”
“Let him speak his own words,” Granma tells me while she’s mopping Easy’s tea. “Sit down son. We are your friends.”
Easy looks at me quickly, then at the two of them. “I know you mean well,” he says. “Folks mean well. But if you want to help someone, how about Miss Little? She lives right down there on your same road even. How about doing all those things for her? That would be fine.”
He walks to the doorway then, not even taking a sandwich.
“Where are you going?” Granma says.
“Home,” he says.
I grab his plate and run after him.
Granma doesn’t try to stop me.
I go right out. “Easy,” I say.
He stops. “Georgia, I won’t come around anymore. You’re in all kinds of trouble and I probably am too.”
“But what about Cap and…,” I nearly say it. “Are you mad at me?”
“No. You…I’m not mad. You’re the…well I don’t think we’ll make it until we’re older. I mean…maybe I’ll have to go back to Tennessee. I just don’t know,” he says looking off.
“I’m sorry….” I hold the sandwiches his way but he shakes his head.
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. Nothing. I’m the one who dragged you down. You tried to help me and I won’t ever forget it. Not ever.”
“Stop talking like this. If you go away I’ll be so sad, Easy. I don’t want you to ever, ever go.”
“I wish I could tell you all of it. I wish I could, Georgia. But it’s just too much. But I didn’t know there was someone like you…your pink room,” he laughs a little, he smiles and looks off.
“Well you just think I’m silly,” I say.
He looks at me, so deeply, so true. I don’t know how he does it, says so much with his face, his eyes mostly. “Oh no, Georgia. I don’t think you’re silly. Not like that. You’re just…a ballerina. Disbro gave her your pom-pom. It was in the street he said, but he saw it before I did. I was just looking at you, I guess. Anyway, she likes it so much I couldn’t take it from her. Same with the cats.”
“How you know her so well?”
“My dad…he went there. Some do. That’s how she gets by. See? I tell you all the wrong things. Everything I say about it is wrong.” He looks up at the house, but I know my Granma isn’t following me now.
“Well, I’ll see you around maybe. But we have to stay apart. That track over there might as well be a wall. Don’t come to Scutter no more. It’s not safe for you. This is your place.”
“You can’t tell me that.”
He laughs. “You’re a bulldog looking like Little Bit,” he says, and there is love in his eyes.
“What about your work, for Aunt May and my Granma?”
“I figure it’s over after this. Older boy tries to get money from their little girl? I wouldn’t want me around either.”
“That’s not true. I gave it freely.”
“I got that route and I don’t know what will happen with me. But I’ll be all right so you don’t have to worry. Some get in the army early…if you get permission. I got an uncle went in at sixteen. I figure I’ll try.”
“Easy,” I say and I grab onto his arm.
“Go on in. They’re both in the window. Don’t make them come out,” he says.
I let go. I’m ashamed of myself for some reason. But I don’t want to ever say good-bye. “I’ll see you around, Easy. Hear me?” I say.
He just smiles. Then he gets on his bike and takes off.
Darnay Road 41
“President Kennedy has been shot.”
That is what comes through our loud speaker during study time. Mother Superior enters the classroom and we are all a-buzz. “Has President Kennedy been shot?” someone cries out.
Of course he has not. Such a thing could never ever happen in the United States of America and I’m so mad it’s being entertained.
Sister goes to the front of the room with Mother and we are all waiting. “Our president has been shot and killed. It’s a very sad day. Let’s pray.”
I am staring at my desk. President Kennedy cannot be shot…cannot be killed? It just can’t be possible. I am staring at the notebook and pencil and ruler that I’d been working with just moments before when the world was a mysterious but very wonderful place even though my heart has had more arrows shot straight through it than a small girl’s heart can hold, but still, there are things that go on and are always strong and solid like our president. Our wonderful President Kennedy and First Lady Jackie. We’d been so happy. Our first Catholic president. It wasn’t possible.
We are dismissed early. We are quiet and orderly. We get our coats because it’s getting cold now, it’s nearly Thanksgiving, just six more days, the time when we eat turkey dinner and Dad might come. For the first time ever I really hope he does.
The bell rings early and outside Granma is there and Aunt May. They are huddled with others, with Sister even all talking at once. President Kennedy has been killed. I check to see if the sun is still in the sky. Somedays, since Easy went away, I’m not certain, but I don’t look like I do now because maybe I shouldn’t take anything for granted ever again.
The sun is there, but its light is dimmed and the world, all of us are a little more pale and washed over in gray. No one told me this could happen. I read about it in history class, but all the bad things happened so so long ago.
I wonder where Easy is now. I wonder if he’s at his school in Tennessee wondering if Kruschev will come and try to
kill us all. I wonder if Easy ever thinks about how he was going to keep me safe.
I wonder if he ever thinks of me at all.
Darnay Road 42
Abigail May wrote faithfully, but I did not write as faithfully. I meant to. But after Easy left, I just couldn’t begin. There was too much, so I didn’t write at all. But I wanted her to write. I needed her to write.
But I guess she got discouraged because for a month I had not heard a thing.
But Aunt May had. She had wanted them to come for Thanksgiving but they weren’t coming because Gloria Sue didn’t have the money. May wanted to send the money and the whole idea just made me think of Easy and it hurt. It shouldn’t have, but it did. Why didn’t they just trust me to give Easy that money?
Why?
It didn’t do to be mad at them. I just wish Easy could know what a good influence he’s been. After they realized he was gone because they went to Easy’s house, the two of them and saw it was empty and a notice from the county was on the door. Eviction, it said. And he was nowhere to be found and Disbro Peak said he lit out, Easy did, just hopped one of the trains that ran through, but I don’t believe that, but then I can’t get it out of my mind.
He might have had some money from all his working. I guess he couldn’t pay all the bills and got found out. So he lit out and I guess he’s gone home to Tennessee, but I don’t know.
I just know I can’t think about him without feeling like my middle is scooped out with a giant spoon.
So after, they got Father Anthony involved and the church and they got ahold of Miss Little’s sister and that one came and took Miss Little away. Her house is empty now and it was just disgusting is what people say. But her sister took her to Omaha and she’s getting treatment there. Granma told Aunt May they were likely to put her in the nuthouse.
Poor Miss Little. I can see just what Easy was afraid of now. Good people. When good people find out about something look out world.