Sit! Stay! Speak!

by Annie England Noblin

  As Addie walked toward the cart, she noticed two men standing off to the side. They were arguing feverishly. One of the men, tall and broad, was waving his hands in the air as he spoke. He was bald, and the russet-colored skin on the top of his head was glistening with sweat.

  The other man, the smaller of the two, cowered as the bigger man loomed over him. He had skin the consistency of glue, the liquid kind school children used, and it was about the same color. The closer Addie got to the food cart, the more she noticed the pockmarks covering the second man’s face.

  Addie strained to hear what they were saying.

  “You owe me money,” the first man growled. “You need to pay me my money.”

  The second man rubbed his hands on his filthy jeans and replied, “C’mon, man. You know I don’t have it. I need more time.”

  “I don’t got the time you need.” The first man’s voice was low and controlled. “You know better than to come to me making bets your ass can’t cash.”

  The second man dug his shoe into the dirt.

  The first man watched him, wrapping his hands around a package of cigarettes and then dropping the crumpled package to the ground. He put the last cigarette to his lips and let out a long sigh, and his face relaxed. Then he put one of his massive hands onto the second man’s shoulder. “How about you do me a favor instead, huh?”

  The second man slumped under the weight of the hand. “What do you want me to do?”

  “We’ll talk about that later.” The first man pushed the second man forward, and they began to walk.

  They neared Addie, and they were coming at her fast. The little man knocked right into her as he tried to keep up with the bigger man. “I’m sorry, missus,” the little man said. He glanced in her direction but wouldn’t look her in the eye.

  “Watch where yer going!” the big man boomed. He caught Addie’s eye. He kept her gaze but said nothing else. His dark eyes bored into her.

  They were gone before Addie could respond. She waved to Wanda in the distance and yelled, “I thought you said Bryar couldn’t ride the Ferris wheel.” She hurried up to her friend, eager to shake the two men and their odd conversation from her memory.

  “His friend Timmy wants to ride it, too.” Wanda popped a piece of funnel cake into her mouth. “Maybe this will be my lucky year. Let’s walk around for a little while. Bryar’s going to be with Timmy and his mom for a while.”

  Addie followed Wanda as she began to head toward the outline of the fairground, where all the booths were set up. “How can it be so hot at five o’clock at night?” she mused, accepting a fan from one of the political candidates that had set up shop. “It feels like my back is sliding down onto my legs.”

  “Oh, honey, don’t use that.” Wanda plucked the fan from Addie’s hands. “You don’t want people to think you’d vote for him.”

  “I’m trying not to die of heatstroke.”

  “Walter Lee put his mama in a home last summer and moved his twenty-year-old child bride into his mama’s house,” Wanda drawled. “He said it was because his mama has Alzheimer’s, but everybody knows it was because she didn’t like his new wife.”

  “Was all of that on the back of the fan or something?”

  “You’ll thank me later.”

  All around Addie the fair buzzed. Nobody seemed to be bothered by the heat or the dust or the smell of fried everything. Women pushed baby strollers through the clumpy grass and over power cords. Children with faces covered in sweat and cotton candy ran past the slow-moving adults. Somehow, despite the noise, the cicadas could still be heard chirping their early evening prelude.

  Suddenly Addie noticed that Jasper Floyd was standing three booths away. His head was bent low, talking to the man sitting in front of a sign that read FLOYD FARMS.

  Did he ever change clothes? Or shave? Addie was sure he was wearing the same thing he had been wearing both times she’d seen him before tonight—his uniform of mud-caked boots, jeans, and a white T-shirt. His face had not seen a razor in days. This time he was wearing a green cap as well. It also read FLOYD FARMS.

  Jasper looked up and caught her staring at him. He gave her a slow smile before returning to his conversation. Although his eyes stayed on her for a bit longer before he gave his full attention back to the man in front of him.

  “Well, look who’s smiling at you, Adelaide.” Wanda gave Addie a playful jab in the ribs.

  “Why wouldn’t he smile? Isn’t that polite?”

  “I’ve known him since elementary school, and he’s never smiled at me,” Wanda replied. “Jasper Floyd is the most serious man I’ve ever met.”

  Addie looked down at the empty paper plate she was carrying. “He caught me staring at him. I’m pretty sure he was obligated to smile at me.”

  “He was a lawyer, you know,” Wanda continued. “Had his own practice in Memphis.”

  “Then what’s he doing here?”

  “Well”—Wanda’s green eyes danced with excitement—“his daddy got real sick last year and can’t run the farm all by himself anymore. And there was no way Jack Floyd was gonna sell that farm to anybody. No way. So Jasper came home to help take care of business. Been here ever since.”

  “No wonder he never smiles.”

  “Well, he’s smiling at you.” Wanda linked her arm through Addie’s. “Let’s go talk to him. Who knows? Maybe you can even make him laugh.

  “Hey, Jasper,” Wanda called out. “How’s it going?”

  “Same as always, Wanda.” Jasper shifted on his feet, folding his arms across his chest. “How are you two tonight?”

  “We’re great,” Wanda replied before Addie could open her mouth. “I haven’t seen your mom too much around town lately. How’s she doing?”

  Jasper stiffened. “Mom doesn’t get out much anymore. She spends most of her time taking care of Dad.”

  Addie watched him. He was curious to her—he didn’t talk like any farmer she knew. Which she admitted weren’t too many. He had perfect posture and perfect teeth, and Addie wondered what else was perfect and lurking underneath his purposely rumpled exterior.

  “Addie?”

  Jasper and Wanda were staring at her. “Huh? What?”

  “Jasper asked you if you’d gotten your showerhead put in,” Wanda said.

  “Oh!” Addie’s face flushed. “No. Not yet.”

  “Mommy!” Bryar ran up to Wanda and tugged at her purse strap. “Guess what?”

  Wanda reached down and lifted him up onto her hip, and replied, “What, honey?”

  “I rided the Ferris wheel three times and didn’t get sick! Three times!”

  “That’s great, baby!”

  “Mommy?”

  Wanda placed him back on his feet. “What?”

  “Uh-oh.”

  Addie jumped back as a tidal wave of vomit flew out of Bryar’s mouth and on the ground in front of them and all over Wanda’s shoes.

  “Oh, Bryar! Yuck!”

  “Sorry.” Spit dangled from Bryar’s bottom lip.

  “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I think we probably better go home.”

  “Okay, Mommy.”

  Wanda turned to Addie and said, “I’m sorry. I don’t think the B-Man needs to be riding anything else tonight.”

  “Oh, that’s okay,” Addie replied. “I think I’ve seen just about all I need to see, anyway.”

  “Come on, baby,” Wanda whispered to Bryar. She picked him up.

  “Are you sure you have time to take me home?” Addie asked, following after them.

  “I can take you home, Adelaide,” Jasper said. “I’m headed out anyway. I need to get home before it gets dark.”

  “Thanks, Jasper,” Wanda called over her shoulder. “You’re a lifesaver.” She headed off toward the grassy parking lot, Bryar’s head lolling on one of her shoulders.

  “Wanda didn’t even wait for you to change your mind,” Addie said.

  Jasper gave Addie a crooked smile. “I’ve found that Wanda very rarely waits for
anything.”

  “So,” Addie said. “You and Wanda went to school together?”

  Jasper nodded. “We did. She was a couple of years behind me.”

  “So you’re . . .” Addie trailed off.

  “Thirty-four,” Jasper finished.

  “Oh,” Addie replied. She was starting to feel the conversation going nowhere. “I’ll be twenty-eight in July.”

  They continued to walk in silence until Jasper stopped in front of a hulking John Deere tractor. “Here we are. Climb on up.”

  Addie glanced around the parking lot. Maybe Jasper was talking to someone else. “You want me to do what?”

  “The tractor. Climb on up.”

  “On the tractor?”

  Jasper took hold of the side and pulled himself up. “Come on. There’s plenty of room inside.”

  “You drove a tractor to the fair?”

  “I did.”

  “Why?”

  “Are you going to climb up here or not? I don’t have all night.”

  Addie grabbed Jasper’s outstretched hand. “I don’t think I’m dressed for this.”

  “There’s no law that says you have to be wearing overalls,” Jasper replied. His tone was gruff, but he was smiling down at her.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever ridden in a tractor before.”

  “Well, then, Miss Addie, you’ve not lived.”

  Addie situated herself inside the cab of the tractor next to Jasper. The engine started with a lurch and Addie grabbed onto the bottom of the seat. “Is this the way you get around town? I can’t imagine this is economical.”

  “Most days you’ll find me driving a 1970 Ford Bronco Sport.”

  “Fancy.”

  “It’s my baby,” Jasper replied. “All original. My dad gave it to me when I was fifteen.”

  “I got a 1989 LeBaron when I got my license,” Addie said.

  “At least you got to drive it,” Jasper continued. “I wasn’t allowed to take the thing off the farm until I left for college.”

  “Well, then why did your dad even give it to you?”

  Jasper’s grip on the tractor wheel tightened. “That’s just my dad.”

  They bounced along, quiet twilight hanging between them. Jasper didn’t look over at Addie for what felt like hours. She thought that she probably could have walked home faster than the tractor was moving. Cars passed them on both sides, and occasionally Jasper pulled over to let a stream of vehicles pass.

  “I picked up Felix from Dr. Dixon today.” Addie broke the silence. “He’s doing much better.”

  “You named him Felix, eh?” Jasper asked. “That’s not a bad name. I’m glad he’s better. He looked pretty rough the other night.”

  “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “What kind of a person shoots a dog and throws him in the trash?”

  Jasper stopped at the top of Addie’s street. The tractor gave an exhausted sigh as he cut the engine. “I don’t think I can get down your street. You may have to walk from here.”

  “That’s okay,” Addie replied. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

  “The kind of person with no regard for the life of another living being.”

  “I can’t understand it.”

  “I’m glad you can’t understand it. You should be glad you can’t understand it.” Jasper jumped down and walked around to help Addie out of the cab. “I can walk you the rest of the way.”

  “That’s all right. I’m not far from here.”

  “I’ve been to your house before,” Jasper said. “Your aunt Tilda made the best fried pies in the state.”

  “I wish I’d also inherited her skills in the kitchen,” Addie said. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “Anytime.”

  Addie bent down to scratch at her leg. It felt like something was biting at her ankles. “Hey, Jasper,” she called after him.

  “Yeah?”

  “What’s a chigger?”

  CHAPTER 6

  IN THE DREAM, ADDIE WAS HELPLESS. SHE STOOD, HANDS GLUED to her sides, as the man in the white coat pulled back the white sheet.

  “I’m so sorry, ma’am.”

  Addie opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. She was trying to scream. “Please cover him back up!”

  “I’m so sorry,” the man said again.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  She reached past the man and grabbed Jonah. She shook him. She slapped him. She cursed at him, but he wouldn’t wake up. “You should have listened to me,” she cried into his lifeless chest. “I told you not to go.”

  Addie bolted straight up in bed, her hair clinging to her neck and face in sweat-soaked clumps. Her heart was racing, and it took her a few seconds to realize where she was. It was the middle of the night.

  She jumped when she heard a small whimper beneath her. Peering over her bed, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Felix looking curiously up at her from the bedroom floor.

  “Hey, buddy.” Addie reached her hand down to pet him.

  Felix flinched and backed away. He kept himself hunched down, just out of touching distance from her.

  “I wish you’d trust me,” Addie murmured disaffectedly.

  Felix cocked his head right and then left. He inched closer to her, but stopped just short of brushing her fingers.

  “So close,” Addie said. “Let’s go outside.”

  Felix’s ears perked up when he heard the word outside. He followed Addie to the back door, his nails making a clack, clack, clack noise on the hardwood floor.

  Addie opened the door, and he stopped. “Please just go outside,” Addie begged. “You’re getting to be too big to carry.” When she reached down to pick him up, Felix shot down the porch steps and into the backyard. Addie shut the door behind them and sat down on the steps as Felix pranced around the yard looking for a perfect spot. It was progress.

  The garden stretched out in front of her in a mass of overgrown weeds and flowers. The rice paper plants that her aunt Tilda had loved so much had almost completely taken over the yard, in some areas preventing any light from breaking through beneath their leaves. Luckily, the bulb over the back door was still functioning, and Addie was thankful for some light.

  Addie knew she needed to do something about the unruly thicket the plant had created, but she didn’t have the first clue about where to begin. She supposed she ought to call a landscaper, just one more thing to be added to the list.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to wipe away entirely the fading memory of the nightmare she’d had. When she opened them, Felix was waiting expectantly at the bottom of the stairs, but Addie was looking past him to the shed at the back of the yard. She walked back into the house and rummaged in the kitchen drawer for a flashlight. And it worked! It was her lucky day.

  The shed was locked with a padlock. The padlock was new—probably something a well-meaning friend of her aunt’s had placed there for protection. However, the door was rotting all around the lock. Addie curled her fingers around the door and pulled. There was a cracking noise that sent Felix barking to the other end of the yard. “I’ve almost got it,” she said.

  The next time she pulled, the door came flying off its hinges, sending Addie into orbit. She landed in the grass, and the door landed on top of her. She didn’t move until Felix delicately took one of her flip-flops off with his mouth and ran off. “Get back here,” she called to him from underneath the door.

  Felix ignored her and settled happily with her flip-flop into the grass.

  Addie groaned and pushed the door off her. “Give me back my shoe!” She pushed herself up and started toward Felix, who ran off every time she got close. After a few minutes, Addie gave up and turned her attention back to the now doorless shed. “That dog,” she said under her breath.

  The door hadn’
t been the only part of the shed that was rotting, but Addie was surprised to see that it was in overall good shape on the inside. The dust, however, was another story. There were two small windows on either side, but they were so caked with dust that Addie had trouble seeing what else was inside, even with the light from the flashlight. She hobbled back inside the house and returned a few minutes later with a new pair of shoes.

  The shed was packed. Addie scanned the light around the room. There were plastic tubs and boxes stacked on top of furniture stacked on top of more furniture. It was like her aunt had been stacking pieces of her life in there for years. In one corner there was a table with several chairs stacked on top of it. It looked a lot like the dining room table Aunt Tilda had kept in the kitchen when Addie was a kid. She crept closer and let the light hover over it. It had seen better days. The paint was flaking and cracked, and she could hear Jonah in her head saying, Why would someone paint an antique? Amateurs!

  Addie turned when she heard a scuffle behind her. Felix was standing in the doorway, flip-flop in his mouth, staring curiously at her. She sat the flashlight down on a nearby box and grabbed at the stack of chairs on top of the table. One by one she carried them inside.

  The table was a more difficult task, but she was able to take it apart, leaf by leaf, and carry it. Once she had everything inside, she stood back and admired the dusty mess she’d made. Both she and Felix left sooty footprints all over the linoleum floor in the kitchen, the door to the shed was propped precariously up against the shed. She knew that the table and chairs were splinters waiting to happen, but Addie felt alive for the first time since she’d seen the mighty Mississippi River.

  CHAPTER 7

  DR. DIXON PEERED INTO THE KENNEL WHERE FELIX SAT hunched in the back corner. Every time the kindly veterinarian attempted to open the kennel door, Felix shrank farther inside.

  “He really, really didn’t want to get into his kennel this morning,” Addie said. “I had to put a piece of cheese inside of it, and then once I got him in, he looked at me like I tricked him.”

  “I guess technically, you did,” Dr. Dixon replied, a wry smile on his lips. “It’s okay, Addie dear. He’ll come around.”