July 7th

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July 7th Page 21

by Jill McCorkle


  “Open ours, mother,” Kate says, and Granner pulls it over in front of her. She had planned to open theirs last, so that nobody else would feel put out to have to come after the best one. Still, she may as well go ahead with it now. Granner carefully tears away the paper, trying not to tear it cause there’s enough pretty paper there to wrap at least a dozen small presents. Still, she can hardly wait. She folds that paper and puts it under her chair and starts pulling open the box. “I got to say that I know what this is and it’s just what I’ve been wanting.” Granner pulls the box open and slowly starts pulling away the tissue paper on top. Never has she been so put out in her whole life. She pulls out a pink robe and holds it up for everyone to see. “Ain’t this something?”

  “That’s not all, mother.” Kate gets out of the swing and takes the robe from her mother, holds it up against her own chest. “This is a Gucci. Did you see it, Ernie?” She turns like she’s a model in a fashion show.

  “Looks like a robe to me.” Harold laughs great big, just the sight of Kate twirling around makes him laugh. “You put that on and dab a little of that cologne on your neck and Mr. Abdul won’t know what to do!”

  “We took care of Mr. Abdul,” Juanita says.

  “God, yes.” Kate goes back and leans over her mother, starts pulling out tissue paper like maybe Granner can’t do it by herself. There, Kate uncovers another pair of those fluffy shoes just like those dust mops she already has. “I thought your others were probably worn out, mother, so I got you some new pink ones.”

  “Well.” Granner holds up those shoes for everybody to see. “Won’t these look pretty with my new socks?” Granner knows what they’re doing, giving her that new robe and shoes, getting her ready to move into a home, don’t care what an old woman looks like in her own home, but Lord, put her in a home where people might see and she’s got to have a fancy robe. It’s just like Ernie buying his Mama that silk dress for her burial when she had spent her whole life looking like a withered-up ragamuffin.

  “And there’s more!” Kate takes the shoes and starts pulling back paper again. Before Granner can even see for herself, Kate announces what’s in there. “A new bath-set, mother, the towels match your robe, and there’s a pretty soap dish and a new toothbrush, bath oil, some Halston cologne with the bath powder.”

  “Well, looks like I’m gonna be spending a lot of time in the bathroom” Granner plows through all those things, and there’s still another box down at the bottom. She pulls it out and opens it. “And a transistor radio, well.”

  “You can keep that right by your bed,” Ernie says. “Then you won’t have to get up so often.” Granner just looks at Ernie because she knows what he’s got in mind, have her in some home bed listening to a radio like some old worthless thing.

  “And,” Kate reaches to the very bottom of the box. “The matching gown!” Kate holds it up again for everyone to see and does another turn.

  “That’s beautiful, Aunt Kate,” Patricia says and walks over. She walks hunch-shouldered especially when she passes by Corky and Sam. She is so self-conscious, and Juanita is sorry that she had not noticed that so much before this day. “May I smell the Halston?” she asks, and Kate reaches down and hands her the bottle. “Oh, that’s nice. Is that what you have on, Aunt Kate?” Kate nods, and Patricia just smiles at her and creeps back over to her seat on the banister.

  “Maybe you’d like some of that, Patricia,” Juanita says and Patricia shrugs. “If you want some, that is.” Juanita gets up to smell it, too. “My, that is nice. Where did you buy that, Kate?”

  “Well, I got it when we were in Raleigh. I don’t know if anyone carries it around here.” Kate takes the bottle from Juanita and puts the lid back on. “You know no one around here sells nice cosmetics and it’s a shame. I was talking to some ladies about that the other day. We were thinking that we should ask the manager of The Fashion Place to see if she could get a good line.”

  “Oh,” Juanita says and sits back down. She vowed one time that she would never go back in that place after that plastic-haired looking woman was so rude to her. Juanita was just standing there and was looking at this real pretty sweater, though Lord knows it was sky high, and that woman came up and said, “Are you going to buy that?” It made Juanita so mad that she said, “I was until just now,” and she walked right out of that store. Still, if Patricia wants that stuff and they get it, well, she might just have to go back in that place. “Well try to find you some, Patricia. I might like some myself, you know if you really want some.”

  “It’s no big deal,” Patricia says.

  “Hell, I’ve never heard such a fuss over smelling. I’ll just go to Woolco and get you some of that that I bought for Mama.” Harold gets up and stretches, and Juanita would like to slap him square in the face for saying that, or worse, she’d like to hug him close and tell him that their very own child is ashamed of them. “I’m going for a drink, can I get somebody else one?”

  “Not me,” Ernie says. “We’re going to a cocktail party tonight.”

  “That’s right,” Kate adds. “We’ve got to be at our best.”

  “Then you probably need a drink to bring out the best, don’t know that I’ve ever seen the best.” Harold pats his Mama on the shoulder. “Hold your horses, Miss Smell So Right, and I’ll be right back, gonna get me and the Mason over there a drink.” He looks at Sam. “Gin and Coca Cola suit you?” It makes Sam Swett feel a little sick to think of it, but he nods, goes along with him.

  “I’m not waiting for Harold.” Granner pulls Juanita’s present closer and starts opening.

  “I hope you like it,” Juanita says. “You’ve gotten so many fine presents today already.” Patricia has her head turned away. If she had wanted some say-so in the present, why didn’t she tell Juanita?

  “Lord, I got it! I didn’t think I would, and here it is!” Granner rips open the box and pulls out the blue plastic tub. “My whirlpool foot relaxer! How on earth did you know?”

  “I’ve heard you mention it once or twice,” Juanita says, though it’s more like one or two hundred times. Granner puts it down in front of her and puts her feet on top of the plastic bag that covers it. “Ain’t this gonna be the life of Riley, come in from weeding that garden and rest old Pat and Charlie good now.” Granner leans back in her seat and grins. “This is the finest present an old woman could ever hope to get. This, and of course little Corky’s present.” Granner cannot bear to leave Corky out of this, knowing the way that she is. “I can use this for years, use it until I’m old, worn out, and used up.” She eyes Ernie with that, and he smirks at her, and Kate just stares down at those loud shorts. “I appreciate my stuff from y’all, too.”

  “What you got there?” Harold comes back and hands Sam Swett a drink. It makes Sam’s whole face feel like it’s been turned inside out when he takes a sip. He nods to Harold as a thank-you because he can’t get the words out. “Better take it easy on it, boy, that’s a strong one.”

  “Juanita got me just what I’ve been wanting, a whirlpool foot relaxer.”

  “That’s just what you need.” Harold sits back down, looks over at Ernie. “I ran out of liquor so I mixed a little of that scotch of yours with the gin. Says that scotch is old. Hope it ain’t bad.” Harold laughs and kicks one foot up on the banister, right there behind Juanita’s ass, and so easily he could kick her right off that rail and into the bushes.

  “Scotch and gin?” Sam Swett looks up, those eyes great big like he’s scared. That boy is greener than Harold thought, green as grass. Harold can tell he ain’t been hanging out at the Mason lodge too often.

  “You what?” Ernie rubs one hand over his face, switches those pink legs again.

  “You should have asked first, Harold.” Juanita stares at him, hoping that Patricia is seeing her doing this.

  “You should have asked first, Harold,” he mimics. “I reckon you should have asked somebody in the Winn Dixie if you were awake or asleep before you got all twisted up in the meat
room.”

  “Just shut up, Harold.” Juanita can feel the tears coming now, and more out of fury than anything else.

  “Why you getting so huffy, everybody knows.” Harold takes a long drink and watches her look away, that bushy hair hiding her face. “I reckon you know that everybody knows. We all got skeletons in the closet, now don’t we?” Harold looks around and he enjoys the way that everybody on the porch looks away from him except his Mama, but that doesn’t bother him. “Who here don’t know what happened to Juanita down at the Winn Dixie?” Harold grins great big when Sam Swett’s hand goes up.

  “I don’t,” Harold, Jr., says and looks up. Patricia is inching her way inside the house. God, what is he doing?

  “Well, sorry folks, that story ain’t worth the time it’d take to tell.” Harold winks at Sam. “Corky can tell you that one later on.” Sam nods and Corky looks away. She hates when Harold gets this way. “Hey Patricia, how about sitting over here with your Daddy?”

  “I’m going to get something to eat,” she says without looking up. “Hey, you two want something?” She nudges Harold, Jr., with her toe and he and Petie Rose both jump up and follow her inside.

  “Don’t eat it all. The rest of us are coming to get some, too.” Granner gets out of her chair arid stacks all of her presents neatly inside her whirlpool and carries them inside. Lord knows, anything can happen to a present if it’s left outside. “Come on everybody, get some food.” Granner motions, but Harold stands and motions that everybody sit back down.

  “Let me have a few minutes of your time. Let’s have a few minutes of silence in memory of Charlie Husky.” Harold’s voice rings loud and clear and he straightens his collar and bows his head like he might be a preacher.

  “That’s not funny, Harold,” Kate says. “You are so sick.”

  “Charles Husky?” Juanita looks around and nobody else looks surprised. “What happened?”

  “It all started when I had to leave home,” Harold says. “It all started because I go to the Quik Pik late at night.”

  “Harold, you’re not making any sense.”

  “Mr. Husky was killed last night and Harold is the one that found him, Harold and Sam here.” Corky rubs her hand up and down the hair on Sam’s arm, and it gives him chills, gives him chills to think of that man again.

  “Oh my.” Juanita looks at Harold and she starts to reach out and touch him, but quickly draws her hand away before he sees. “I had no idea. And Harold, and you,” she looks at Sam. “You two found him?”

  “Dead.” Harold presses his palms together. “Dead as can be, suffocated, murdered.” He sits back down and laughs. “The damnedest thing is that I went by to speak to Maggie Husky and she was waiting for him to come home, had breakfast cooked and was there waiting on that dead man to come home and eat!”

  “What did you do?” Corky looks up, her eyes watering with just the thought of Mrs. Husky.

  “I told her he wasn’t coming home, told her he was dead.”

  “Oh Harold, I hope you were tactful with her,” Juanita says, those blue eyes as sad as can be.

  “Goddamn, what do you think? What would you say? Your husband has passed away up to the angels, Saran Wrap around his face and enough napkins for a boy scout picnic stuffed down his throat?”

  “Oh God.” Juanita puts her hand up to her mouth. “Do they know who did it?”

  “Harold saw the man,” Ernie says, and realizes that Kate is about to explode. “Hey, I wonder how Rosie is doing? We ought to be hearing pretty soon.”

  “It took her hours with that first one,” Harold says. “I reckon you might hear before you go out to a party.”

  “Petie Rose was a C-section and I doubt seriously if we’d go to the party without knowing,” Kate says.

  “You might would. Old Juanita there went in and those babies slid right out of her.” Harold claps his hands and slides one forward. “Everybody knows why that was, why those babies were able to just fall right out.”

  “I don’t,” Sam says, and takes another swallow. This drink goes down real smooth now and he doesn’t even have a trace of a headache. Corky nudges him and he doesn’t know why, doesn’t know why those babies would have slid right out, oh yeah, yeah, he does. “Oh I get it!” he says and looks around. Harold just laughs and Juanita looks mad, and that couple in the loud clothes look like they just smelled something rotten. Corky nudges him again, those gray eyes dull and begging.

  “You saw the man, Harold?” Juanita asks, keeping her voice soft and even, hoping that he’ll leave her alone.

  “Yep.” Harold squints one eye so that he can get Juanita in focus and stares her down.

  “Come get some food,” Granner yells out the door and Kate and Ernie get up.

  “I better go get a little something, because we’ve got to leave in a second.” Kate takes Ernie by the arm. She’s mostly talking to him instead of everyone else, anyway. Harold isn’t about to let it all end here, not when Charles Husky is dead, not when Charles Husky is stretched out on some table with some man seeping the blood out of him and Maggie having to make all kinds of arrangements, not when the person that did it is out running loose, somebody that could be white black or purple. It makes Harold cringe. “Come on everybody. Ernie and Kate will have it all eaten up if we don’t go on in.” Juanita follows him, with Sam and Corky right behind her. Sam is having a ball, just like that old woman said, and this is only the beginning. He can’t wait to get back to Corky’s room, to see her in that bathrobe again, to sit and look out the window, watch the world going by.

  Patricia, Harold, Jr., and Petie Rose are sitting in the living room in front of the T.V. set and that Petie Rose is sitting there kicking her feet as hard as she can up against Granner’s sofa. It seems to Juanita that if Kate was so willing to help somebody, that she’d spend a little time with that grandbaby. “Did you all already eat?” Juanita asks, and Harold, Jr., nods. “Granner says we have to wait for some cake,” he says.

  “My cat is dead,” Petie rose says and kicks her foot again. “This woman killed Tom.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to hear that.” Juanita squats down beside Petie. “What happened?”

  “A car. A big fat woman in a car.” Petie puts her head down on the sofa, but keeps right on kicking until Juanita takes hold of her feet.

  “I bet you can get a new kitten, Petie, and just think. You’re gonna have a new little brother or sister soon.”

  “I want Tom, that’s all.” Petie twists her feet away from Juanita and kicks at her. “I want my Mama.” Juanita wants to jerk a knot in that child, but it isn’t her place.

  “Did you get enough to eat, Patricia?” Juanita smiles, but Patricia whirls around and stares her square in the eye.

  “Everyone at school calls me Patricia, the way it’s supposed to be said!”

  “Honey, I named you saying it that way. That’s your name.”

  “Well, I don’t like it. I’m going to tell all of my friends to call me Tricia or Patty!” Her face is fire red now and she’s got her arms crossed over her chest.

  “Juanita, you better hurry. The food’s going fast.” Juanita turns around to see Corky standing there with a plate of food, that boy right behind her. Juanita nods and turns back to Patricia.

  “Honey, there are loads of Tricias and Pattys. I gave you a name that I thought would be different.”

  “I don’t want to be different!” Patricia slumps back in her chair. “I want to be just like everybody else! I want that more than anything and as long as I’m wearing shorts from Woolco and going around with some stupid name, I can’t be!”

  “You want to be like everybody else?” Sam Swett steps closer but Corky puts out her arm and stops him. He cannot help but stare at this young girl. To him she already looks like everybody else, every nondescript long-legged, thin, light brown haired, self-conscious teenager, and that’s what she wants; she wants to be like everybody else.

  “Yes! Yes, I do.” She glares at that boy and
it surprises Juanita to see Patricia speaking up to a stranger. “I don’t want everybody staring at me cause I’m different. I don’t want people laughing at me and talking behind my back!”

  “Honey, people don’t do that. You have lots of friends.” Juanita puts her hand on Patricia’s arm, and she jerks away.

  “You don’t know! You don’t know anything and it’s your fault, too.” Now Patricia is crying. “Just leave me alone, all of you!” She gets up and runs down the hall, slams the bathroom door.

  “Patricia’s mad,” Harold, Jr., says and gets that very old look on his face. “So’s Petie.” He frowns and looks back at the T.V. Lord knows, a child his age shouldn’t be so worrisome.

  “Adolescence,” Juanita says to Sam and Corky, and tries to laugh it off. “You all must remember how it was.” Corky nods but Sam doesn’t. This is the first time in his life that he’s thought that maybe everybody feels a little different at some time or another. He is wondering right now if people have ever laughed behind his back, if they’re in that kitchen right now talking about him. He watches Juanita go into the kitchen and Corky takes his arm and pulls him back on the porch.

  “Do you think I’m different?” he asks when they sit back on the steps. He takes a sip of the drink that Harold just mixed for him and it makes his throat go dry, makes him cough.

  “We’ve already talked about all that,” she says, and he cannot help but notice those slight circles below her eyes, the fragile blue blood vessels on her eyelids. “Lord,” she shakes her head and laughs, the dark smudges disappearing into laugh lines. “Everybody’s the same but everybody’s different, and everybody’s different but they’re the same.” She takes a small bite of a potato chip, a nibble off the edge. “You’re different, but it’s a nice different, and you’re also like everybody else. You eat and sleep and get scared and feel lonesome and you drink. You probably drink too much.” She takes another nibble and he watches her jaw muscle clench, release; she chews without making a sound. “You know some people just can’t drink very good. It makes some people say sort of stupid kinds of things.” She looks at him so seriously now, the darkness returning below those tissue paper lids, the wide gray eyes. “I can’t drink much because it makes me say stupid things.”

 

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