Sam starts to tell him that he doesn’t do that all the time, but he just nods. He feels like he’s been pinned up on the wall for everyone to pick at and question, the outsider, and this is what he’s been saying that he wants, but not this way. He wants to be the one that sums everyone else up, to be the observer, not the one that’s being observed. And the strange part is that it’s because they do belong and do fit in that they can do this to him, make him feel so self-conscious and unsure of himself. They’re not giving him a fucking chance.
“So maybe you’ve met your match.” Juanita stands up and stretches, those little shorts riding way up on her thigh. She acts like she doesn’t know they’re riding but she does, and Harold sees Ernie Stubbs looking. It always has burned Harold slam damn up the way that Ernie Stubbs looks at Juanita when he gets the chance. “It’s time to get this party rolling. I’m going to go get Patricia and Kate.”
“Please do,” Granner says, because she is sick and tired of all this chitchat, chitchat that don’t involve her, and on her birthday.
“Juanita, you look great,” Corky says. “You have really gotten yourself into shape.”
“It’s Nautilus.” Juanita takes her thumbs and pulls down the back of her shorts. “That and swimming at the YMCA.”
“Probably getting some other kind of exercise, too,” Harold says, and stares at her.
“Corky, if you like I’ll take you in as my guest one day and see if you like it.”
“I’d like it if my guests would come on out and have my party,” Granner says, but it’s no use. Now, they’re starting up again. It makes her sick, sick as a dog, too, when she sees that boy’s head and him clinging hold of little Corky like he might be blind.
“The only problem,” Juanita continues, “is that sometimes it gets crowded and there’re some people in there like Al Taylor, do you know him?” Corky shakes her head and Juanita has to speed up, because she knows that she is getting Harold’s goat with the very mention of Al Taylor. “Al Taylor smells something awful when he’s done. I don’t know if it’s his feet or what, and I can’t stand to be by him when he does this cross chest exercise.” Juanita puts her hand up to her chest and laughs, leans closer to Corky to whisper. “He poots every time that he pulls those weights down.” Juanita holds her hand straight up. “I swear he does, and I’ll bet that’s why he lets himself his feet or whatever get so stinky, so maybe he can hide the fact of what he does during his workout.” Sam Swett cannot help but laugh at this, and so Corky laughs, too. She was afraid to laugh at first, afraid that he might think she’s a nasty person, but he’s laughing all right, those big dark eyes watering up a little and this little wheezing laugh coming through his shut lips like that Precious Pup on the cartoons.
“That’s a lie, Juanita.” Harold pushes his cap back on his head, takes a big swallow, the drops of water on the outside of his glass dripping all over the front of his shirt. “Men don’t poot anyway. Men fart and all you women like to say ‘poot’ cause it sounds cute and ladylike, but I’ll tell you, Juanita Suggs, that women fart, too!”
“Thank you for that testimony!” Juanita leans up against the doorway and her face is red as can be, but she can’t help laughing. Lord, she tries to catch her breath, but every time she looks at Corky and that Sam boy doubled over on that top step, she can’t hold it back, and there’s Harold leaned back in his chair like he hadn’t said one word that was funny.
“That is disgusting.” Ernie switches his leg crossing, and that makes Harold laugh. It looked like four legs crossing, like an octopus in pink tight tights.
“We all know you’re a pooter, Ernie,” Harold says. “You look like that’s what you are, but we all know better. People out in Piney Swamp like to act like they never have cut one, but everybody knows that somebody from Injun Street grew up doing it as entertainment.” Juanita cannot control herself now, though she should, because she knows that Harold is working his way around to her and that won’t be funny. “Your Mama probably cut holes in your pockets so you’d have something to play with.”
“I’ve heard that before,” Sam Swett yells and laughs again. He is losing control, trying to fit in for some reason.
“You heard it from down this way,” Harold says. “Ernie’s Mama invented it.”
“I know one.” Sam Swett cannot believe he is doing this, cannot believe that he is suddenly having fun. “My Uncle Larry told somebody that they were so ugly that their Mama had to tie pork chops around their neck to get the dogs to play with them.” He laughs again, but no one else does; Corky giggles a little and nods, but Harold just spits over the railing.
“I’ve heard that, too,” Corky says and laughs. “It is funny.” She is embarrassed for him, though he doesn’t seem to notice, doesn’t seem to be embarrassed.
“That’s so old that when Columbus told it to the Indians they shot him,” Harold says, again without laughing. “But it is funny.” He looks over at Sam and nods. “Ernie’s Mama did that, too, and that’s why I’m not laughing now. I was there when it happened.”
“I’m sick and tired of all this.” Granner stands up and puts her hands on her hips. “Why don’t you all just go on, go on and have a ball. Don’t let me and my party keep you from having a ball.”
“Juanita will probably do just that later on.” Harold gets up and dumps the remaining ice from his glass, and doesn’t even look at Juanita. She has got herself collected now, and is ready to go inside before Harold jumps on her.
“I’m sorry, Granner.” Juanita pats that old woman on the back and can feel every bone of her spine sticking up like a railroad track. “We just got carried away. I’ll go on in and get them.”
“Don’t take much to get you carried away, now does it?” Harold laughs great big and so does Sam Swett until Corky nudges him. He didn’t know what he was laughing at, anyway.
Juanita gets to the kitchen door and just stops off to one side. Patricia has her head down on that table and she is crying her heart out. “I know you don’t like us,” she blubbers. “But I can’t help it, Aunt Kate. I can’t help it.”
“I know that.” Kate rubs her hand over Patricia’s hair and down her back. “I felt the same way when I was growing up.”
“You did?” Now Patricia has sat straight up, and Juanita backs up a speck more.
“Sure.” Kate nods and looks a way that Juanita has never seen before, looks like she might cry.
“I knew that I wanted more! I knew that I was going to be somebody with nothing to shame.” Kate has her fists clenched now like she might be getting ready to give a speech. Now she looks more like herself. “I didn’t want to spend my life in some small rundown house or trailer park. I didn’t want to buy all of my clothes at Penney’s. I didn’t want other people acting like they were better than me!”
“That’s how I feel,” Patricia sniffs. “My mother buys all of my things at Penney’s and she tells people! She told a friend of mine one day about the cute summer tops at Woolco! Woolco! and I could’ve died. Nobody goes to Woolco and my mother doesn’t understand, she says there is nothing wrong with buying clothes at Woolco.” Patricia puts her head back down. “I can see why y’all don’t like us. I can see but I can’t help it. I can’t help all that talk going around about my mother and father. They hate me or they wouldn’t do this to me!”
“I know how you feel.”
“And then she wonders why I don’t want to have a pajama party!” Patricia wails. “I’m lucky that I even get invited to one, and then what about when I have a steady boyfriend, I think I’ve almost got a steady, but what do I do when he wants to come over and he sees those loud colors in our living room, a red couch!”
“Well I never knew that y’all had a red couch.” Kate shakes her head. “Of course, I haven’t been by your house in years.”
“Yes! We have a red couch and bright blue walls and then these two chairs that don’t match anything, a big olive green lazy boy with a split down the side and this blue and w
hite flowered chair!”
“Oh my, my.” Kate shakes her head and gets this pained look on her face. “What kind of lamps do you have?”
“Just plain wooden ones.” Patricia shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Aunt Kate, I didn’t mean to tell all of this but I, I just wanted you to know that I’m not that way.”
“Oh I believe you.” Kate rubs her hand up and down Patricia’s back. “You can always talk to me, honey, really. I’ll do what I can to help you.”
“You will?” Patricia asks, and Kate tries to figure out what to say next.
Juanita is leaning flush against the wall now, her eyes clenched tightly to keep the tears back. Here she’s been thinking that Patricia was upset about that rumor and with good reason, but it’s not that at all. Patricia is ashamed of her, ashamed of her own mother, ashamed of their home. Juanita thought that girls wanted to be like their mothers, but hers is just the opposite. Patricia hates her and Juanita feels like she has been slapped square in the face. She holds her finger up to her lips when she sees Harold coming in with his empty glass but he just keeps walking. “What you doing, Juanita? Spying?”
“No, I was just coming in to get Kate and Patricia.” She wipes her eyes and steps into the kitchen. “Are you all ready? Granner is about to bust to open those gifts!” Juanita makes herself laugh but can’t bear to look at Patricia or Kate.
“Well hell, you come in hours ago. Mama sent me in to see what had happened.” Harold looks around at all three of them, and damned if those aren’t three kinds of strange faces.
“Well, I did have to be excused,” Juanita says and smiles again. She watches Harold mix himself another drink and she hopes that he won’t say anything about anything at this point. “Let’s go.” She turns and hurries out where Granner is waiting, the Woolco bags and Corky’s envelope on her lap. She goes and sits on the banister by the chair where Harold has been sitting, and stares out where Petie Rose and Harold, Jr., have drawn all kinds of pictures on the driveway. Now Harold, Jr., is sitting up in that dogwood tree and Petie Rose is under the tree barking. “Look at me, Mama!” he yells and she smiles back at him. In probably no time at all hell start up being ashamed of her, and she can’t bear to think about it. She has never felt so let down in her whole life.
“Time to sing!” Corky yells when Harold steps out followed by Kate and Patricia. Harold, Jr., comes sliding down out of that tree and he and Petie come up and sit on the floor right in front of Granner. Juanita thinks that she can’t bear it if Patricia goes and sits in that swing with Kate and Ernie, but she doesn’t. She goes behind the swing and to the far end of the porch and hops up on the banister, hidden from Juanita by the long line of posts. “Happy birthday dear Granner.” Harold eyes Juanita before sitting back in his chair, and it looks to him like she wants to smile at him; it looks to him like Juanita might bust out crying at any minute; it looks to him like he couldn’t get a fight out of that woman right now with anything, her face a little sickly looking and those blue eyes as cloudy and sad as Maggie Husky’s had been. “Happy birthday to you!”
“Wait a minute!” Corky holds up her hands. “Where are Rose and Pete?”
“Gone to get Petie a little brother or sister.” Kate leans over the swing and nods at Petie. “Right, honey?” Petie Rose just looks at her grandmother and goes right back to picking the scab on her knee. “Oh, I hope it’s another little girl just like my Petie.”
“That’s great,” Juanita says, and looks at Kate. “I’ll never in my life forget the day that Patricia was born. It was the happiest day of my life.” She looks at Patricia and Patricia glares back.
“What about me?” Harold, Jr., looks up.
“I was happy both those days just to see that neither of you was deformed or retarded.”
Harold looks at Juanita and grins. “Your Mama was happy, cause being so full and round didn’t set well with her free and easy lifestyle.”
“Honey, I was happy the day that you were born as well,” Juanita says. “Those were the two happiest days of my life to have such fine babies.”
“Sure hope this baby ain’t retarded.” Granner holds up the envelope from Corky. “Let’s see what this is.”
“Mother, that’s a horrible thing to say!” Kate glances down at Petie and then back to her mother. Her mother has no couth whatsoever; senile or not, it’s no excuse.
“Corky knows I didn’t mean that in a ugly way; we all know she can’t afford much, right, Corky?” Corky nods, and then turns her head away from Sam Swett. She wishes she could grab that envelope and rip it up right now before everybody hears.
“I was talking about what you said about the b-a-b-y,” Kate says, and looks at Ernie and nods.
“My whole life you have corrected me, Kate Weeks Stubbs, or rather your whole life. All I said is that I hope that child ain’t bad off, and I don’t think there’s a thing wrong with that. You can’t go around with your head in high cotton acting like things don’t happen, cause they do.” Granner points her finger past Sam Swett and on down the street. “Myra Henshaw who used to live over there had herself a mongoloid child. I’m telling you it happens.”
“It was the way you, oh, forget it, just forget it.” Kate shakes her head and twists around in that swing. If she keeps that up, with it making all that noise, it’s gonna break, Granner’s sure.
“Mrs. Henshaw lives in the new highrise.” Ernie puts his arm around Kate and pats her shoulder. She has a harder time putting up with her family than he does.
“That’s what having children like that will do.” Granner opens the envelope. “It’s a wonder I’ve held onto my sense, the way that my children treat me sometimes, but I have.” Now Granner is talking to Sam Swett and he is taking in every word. “This here is from Corky, now listen.” Granner opens up the piece of paper and reads, “I Corky Revels am at your service for fifty hours of chores and errands.”
“What a nice present!” Juanita squeals and winks at Corky. “I sure wish I’d get a present like that.”
“Thank you, Corky. That’s a fine present and I’m gonna take you up on it when I redo my bathroom.” Granner eyes Kate and Ernie and smiles great big. “Have you ever heard of anything so nice?” She looks around and waits for everybody to nod, even that boy with the rotten coconut head. If he’s a friend of Corky’s, she reckons she can stand him. And there, that’s enough fuss over that gift, and she can move on to the next without hurting Corky’s feelings.
“I do windows, too,” Corky says and everybody kind of laughs. Granner laughs, too, and she wishes she could spend a speck more time raving over Corky’s gift, cause that girl is starved for attention, but she knows that if she doesn’t get on with it, she will never get all these gifts opened without another interruption.
“Those are from me and the kids,” Harold says when she picks up the Woolco bags. God, Juanita hates to see those bags, cause she knows that Patricia is probably about to crawl under the porch. Never in her life is Juanita going to say Woolco if she can help it, at least not in front of Patricia. Granner shuts her eyes and sticks her hand down in the first bag.
“Foaming milk bath,” she says. “And a gallon of it. Well sir, I’m fixed up.” She takes off the lid and smells. It’s strong smelling and she bets will keep her tub clean, it smells so strong. “That’s nice Harold, Harold, Jr., and Patricia. Here,” she hands the bottle to Harold, Jr. “Take that over and let Kate and Ernie smell it. I want them to smell it.”
“That isn’t necessary, mother,” Kate says, but Harold, Jr., is already standing there holding that huge jug out in front of her face.
“Bring it back, Harold, Jr. Seal it up and put it right here by my chair.” Granner sticks her hand down in the other bag. “There’s more than one thing in here!” she says and pulls out some fuzzy socks, a pack of three pairs that are striped in cotton candy colors. “My feet sure won’t get cold in these, bet Patricia picked these out, didn’t you?” Everyone looks at Patricia and she just smiles this sort
of sick smile and turns red. It makes Juanita ache inside to see that face. Granner reaches back into the bag and pulls out a mini-flashlight. She looks at it, turns it off and on. “Well, this is cute.” She puts it beside the milk bath and socks and reaches again.
“That’s in case you got to get up late at night and can’t see,” Harold says. “You know if you got to tee tee, ain’t that what women do? tee tee?” He stares at Juanita and laughs great big, dumps the leftover ice again. He’s gonna go in for a refill as soon as the opening is over. He’s feeling much better than he did earlier, that’s for damn sure.
“This is the last one.” Granner pulls out some cologne. “This is called Tigress.” She opens it and smells. It’s more powerful smelling than that milk bath, could kill every weed in her garden. “Take this over and have Kate smell it.” Granner hands the bottle to Harold, Jr., and he walks over to the swing with it. Kate bends forward but holds her breath; God, she hasn’t heard of Tigress in years. She didn’t even know they still made that stuff. It’s simply awful. She leans back in the swing and nods to Granner. “You smell it, Ernie. Put a little on your wrist to get the effect.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to waste your cologne.” Ernie sniffs the bottle and sits back. Come to think of it, that does smell familiar, that may be what Janie Morris was wearing that he recognized last night, and where would he have recognized it before that? Certainly not at a cocktail party. Harold, Jr., carries the bottle back over and sits back down.
“Awful, isn’t it?” Kate whispers and he nods. “I remember that time you bought me some, remember?” She giggles and clutches his arm. That’s what it was. He had liked the way that it smelled, and then Kate had told him that that was not good stuff at all. Kate had given it to the maid because she had said that the maid would probably like it. He had learned since which were good colognes and which were not, but why did he think that one that was not smelled enticing? Maybe that’s what had made him want to nuzzle into Janie Morris, Tigress. He can’t tell one good cologne from one cheap one unless he has the price tag there in front of him. He learned a long time ago that if you buy the most expensive thing, then you’re getting the best.
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