Then Like the Blind Man: Orbie's Story

by Freddie Owens

  “Get out, Victor!” Momma yelled. “Leave us be!”

  “I was just trying to straighten him out a little,” Victor said.

  “I’ll straighten you out is what I’ll do, straight out that door!” Momma grabbed up a stove poker and threw it at him.

  Victor knocked over a table getting out of the way. “It takes two to do the goddamn tango, Ruby!” He got in his Cadillac and like a mad man gunned it, thundering dust all over the road.

  ———————

  I crawled to a place, not under the kitchen, but to another place I guessed was just under the living room floor.

  Willis crawled in after me. “Dey spider web and all kina ole shit unda here. Wha-What you gone do boy?”

  “Shh,” I whispered. “They can hear you.”

  We sat with our heads almost touching the underside of the plank floor. There were some tobacco sticks in a pile, two cans of rusty nails and a posthole digger. I sat on the handles of the posthole digger. Willis sat on the sticks.

  “Can’t see nothin’,” Willis said.

  “It’ll get to where you can.” The gap between the house and the ground let in the daylight. Still, it was so dim I could hardly see Willis’s face. “I wish Granny was here.” Granny and Miss Alma had taken Granpaw and Missy to Circle Stump to see the doctor. Not two minutes had gone by before Victor pulled up in his Cadillac. He walked right by me and Willis, not saying a word, went in the house and started up a talk with Momma. That’s when I got scared and crawled under the house to listen.

  Little streams of dirt sifted down from the planks. We could hear Victor talking on the other side, his radio announcer’s voice all calm and smooth. “I understand how you feel baby. I do. If I’d known they were going to behave like that, I’d have said something beforehand. I would have said, this is my wife, gentleman. My pride and joy.” Momma said nothing. “I should have said something later on too. I know I should have. I was nervous, Ruby. You know how I get.”

  Momma said, “I reckon it was nerves made you do what you did to Missy. I reckon it was nerves put your hand up that woman’s ass — me not two feet away.”

  “I was drunk, baby.”

  “Your hand wandered up some strange woman’s dress because you was drunk? How come she let you keep it there?” Momma’s words were coming out full of steam. “You think I’m a fool, don’t you? You think I don’t know any better?” There was a loud crash of something across the floor. “Answer me!”

  “Goddamn it Ruby!” Victor shouted. “No! I don’t think that! I don’t think that at all!”

  “That hillbilly’s so ignorant, she can’t see shit for stepping in it. That’s what you think.”

  “Now baby, I never said that.”

  “I see a lot more than you imagine. I see what the Pink Flamingo’s about. I see better than you! All that gambling and them men with guns. Guns, Victor!”

  “Oh, come on. They were security personnel. Armstrong’s people,” Victor said. “I explained all that. I thought you understood.”

  “What’s he need a bunch of men with guns to watch a hotel for?”

  “They’re not watching the hotel. They’re watching him,” Victor said. “Armstrong’s an important man. They’re his bodyguards.”

  “Bodyguards, playing cards.”

  “That’s right. I told you. Security.”

  “It ain’t Christian,” Momma said.

  “Who said it was? It’s not church we’re talking about here. It’s an organization. They own the hotel. I explained all this.” Victor was trying hard not to loose his temper.

  “The Lord’s not pleased with it,” Momma said.

  “You’ve got a handle on that do you?”

  “I know when something is not right.”

  “Maybe you do,” Victor said, his voice going all soft suddenly. “We can talk about it another time, can’t we baby? Maybe you can enlighten me.”

  It got quiet a minute, and then Momma said, “I don’t know what to believe. I can’t tell what’s real anymore.”

  “The whole thing is real baby. I’m real. I’m standing right here.”

  “I see you,” Momma said.

  “I feel like a teenager asking a girl out on a date for the first time,” Victor said, all soft and gentle-like.

  “Wha-What he say?” Willis whispered.

  “He’s being good looking for Momma, Willis. Trying to get her to like him again.”

  “You ain’t a teenager,” Momma said.

  “Well I feel like one,” Victor said. “In a man’s skin. Afraid you’ll say ‘no’, but here nonetheless. Asking. Asking for another chance to make things right. For you. For the kids.”

  “Oh,” Momma breathed.

  No sound came for awhile.

  “What dey do?” Willis whispered.

  “Kissy stuff. He’s doing it again. Making her be like him.”

  Don’t do it, Momma! Don’t like him again!

  “Victor, no,” Momma said.

  Victor was all out of breath. “It’s been so long, baby.”

  “Not here. Not now,” Momma said. “Let go.”

  “The Lord is in me now,” Victor breathed. “I know he is.”

  “I know he is too. I feel him inside you,” Momma said, like it was true, like the Lord really was inside Victor. “What am I going to do with you?”

  I could feel the wall against Victor begin to crumble.

  “You vulgar bastard!” Momma shouted. “Let go of me!”

  There was a stomping sound, a sound of things being dragged across the floor, knocked over, a table maybe or Granpaw’s rocking chair. I could see dirt raining down from a bunch of places under the floor. The sounds dragged back toward Granny and Granpaw’s bedroom. I crawled after them. Willis followed. A door slammed.

  “Git off me!” Momma yelled.

  Take care of Momma son. She don’t see things all the way through.

  I got hold of a tobacco stick. “Momma’s in trouble, Willis.” I would have crawled out except then I heard Momma’s voice, all whispery sounding and out of breath.

  “Oh, Victor, Victor,” breathed Momma. “Not here, hon! Not now.”

  Victor’s words also came between gasps of breath. “Yes now, baby. Relax. We both need this. You know it, I know it.” More dirt rained down from the floor. A fear squeezed around my heart then. A hand I couldn’t see.

  “You filthy vulgar dog!” Momma said, but she was laughing again.

  23

  Smiles and Smooth Words

  That night Victor slept with Momma in the trailer. When I came down to breakfast the next morning he was at the table. He was wearing his pink shirt but no tie, his hair combed over like Dean Martin. Momma had fixed him some eggs and he was sitting there in what used to be Granpaw’s chair. When he saw me, he smiled.

  “Sit down sweetheart,” Momma said.

  “Where’s Granny?” I asked.

  “Out on the front porch, feeding Granpaw. He had another one of his spells.” Something in Momma’s voice made me jump, something high-pitched and chirpy like a bird’s. She hopped around the kitchen like a bird. She wore her black skirt and the blouse with the roses, the one you could see the soft part of her titties in. Her hair was piled on top, fixed together up there with a green tortoise shell comb.

  “What’s wrong, Momma?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. Sit down.”

  “Where’s Missy?”

  “In the front room, still asleep.”

  Victor held up his cup. “More coffee, Momma.”

  Momma smiled, brought the pot over and filled his cup.

  “Thank you Momma.” Victor took a sip from the cup and set it down.

  Granny’s calendar said August 19th. I sat down across from Victor. Momma placed a glass of milk in front of me. “I want coffee.”

  “Coffee?”

  “Yeah. With biscuit mixed in. Sugar too.”

  “You’re too little for coffee, son,” Victor said.

 
I looked at Momma. Yesterday she was ready to throw Victor out, now she was chirping like a bird — hopping around everywhere he pointed.

  “Did you hear what I said?” Victor said.

  “I ain’t your son,” I said.

  “Orbie,” Momma said. “Be nice.” She hopped to the refrigerator, took out a plate of ham from last night’s supper, and set it on the table. “You want me to warm this Victor? It’ll be good with them eggs.”

  “No thank you Momma. Maybe Orbie will have some.” He smiled at me and sipped his coffee. He was cleaned up, clean shaved with that smelly stuff, the sleeves of his shirt turned back.

  “I said I want coffee and biscuit! I want soak! Granny lets me have it.”

  “Watch your tone, son,” Victor said.

  “I reckon a little coffee won’t hurt him none.” Momma got a cup and set it down in front of me. Her hand trembled. She filled the cup halfway with coffee.

  The mole next to Victor’s nose glowed like a little slicked over hill. He pushed himself away from the table and got up. Momma kissed him on the lips. I felt like throwing coffee at the both of them. Victor grabbed Momma’s butt and squeezed her to him. “You shouldn’t let the boy talk to you that way baby.”

  “I know. We’ll talk about it later.”

  “I love you Momma.” He squeezed her butt again and kissed her on the lips. Then he went out the door.

  Momma sat down in Victor’s chair, smiling to herself. She reached and got one of the biscuits and cut it in half. Then she reached for the blackberry jam. She scooped the jam out with a spoon onto half of the biscuit, put the other half on top and bit off a piece. Her hands trembled. “These is the best blackberries I ever eat,” she said as she chewed. “You and Granny get these?”

  I got a biscuit and crumbled it in my coffee, pushed it down in there with a tablespoon. I mixed in two big tablespoons of sugar.

  “Have a little coffee with your sugar,” Momma said.

  I dug out a spoonful of the soak and put it in my mouth.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Momma said. “People can change though. Victor can change.”

  We sat there a little bit, Momma with her biscuit, me with my soak. I got another tablespoon of sugar. I watched it fall out of the spoon a little bit at a time into my cup.

  Momma said, “You can see how he’s changed can’t you?”

  I kept watching the sugar. “Your the one always changing Momma. Victor’s always the same.”

  Momma almost dropped her biscuit. “I’ll wear you out boy! Talking to me like that!” Momma grabbed the spoon away. Sugar went everywhere all over the table. She grabbed the cup away too. “You know better than to act this way! Look here now.” She put the spoon in the cup and set it down on the table next to her. “Yes, it’s true. We’re going to try again; Victor and me are. He’s made mistakes but he’s changed now. You can’t just give up on people Orbie.” She took hold of my hand and looked me direct in the eye. “We got to be good to one another from now on.”

  “I hate him Momma! I wish he was dead!” I jerked my hand loose. “I hate you too! Your just stupid is all! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” I jumped down out of my chair, slammed through the screen door, ran out down the steps and under the house — into the crawl space underneath. I sat, crying and kicking at the dirt, staring at the shadows, at the old cans and rocks and tobacco sticks that were scattered all about.

  I had me a shoebox there in a hole under a board. I slid the board away, got out the box and opened it. It was lined with some of Granny’s store bought cotton. Granpaw’s tobacco pouch lay in there with the Rain Skull inside. There was Granny’s butcher knife too, its point bent to one side. Still crying, I took it up from the box and looked at its long gray blade. I remembered how it had glowed with the blue light. I remembered the voice, the lightning, the tree branch cracking down with the tire in the swimming hole. The Circle Stump Boys running away.

  I laid the point of the butcher knife on a piece of orange brick and pounded it flat with another. I got Granpaw’s pouch with the Rain Skull and put it around my neck. I held the knife blade up in front of my face, the point now straight and sharp. I could hear Momma above, boohooing at the kitchen table.

  “In thy blood,” I whispered. “In thy blood, live!”

  ———————

  Momma went on like usual, talking about the Lord and how He’d made everything all right, how He changed Victor, made him into a good person again — a better person.

  Victor brought all his stuff from the motel he was staying at in Glasgow — his tan suitcase and green file box — and moved into the trailer with Momma. Soon as Momma was ready, he said, we’d all go back to Detroit, take care of our business there, sell the house and move down to Florida — where the sun always shines and the fishing is always good.

  “Oh I know he won’t never be good as Jessie,” Momma would say to Granny. “You can’t have everything perfect though.”

  Granny would just crack her gum. “You both growed up people. I reckon ya’ll can handle your own business.” Usually she had a lot more to say than that, no matter whose business it was. I figured she was just too busy what with Granpaw and there being a million things to do around the farm and all. The ‘L’ brothers helped with the fields. Miss Alma brought over pies and occasionally did things around the house. Said there wasn’t as much housework at Moses’ place anymore. “He gone. He do dat way. Mmmm. Go off, not tell a soul.”

  I hadn’t seen Moses since the time in the cave. He’d finished painting Granny and Granpaw’s house except for one little triangle-shaped patch under the roof above the attic window. Willis and me would look up there from time to time just to see if he had come to finish it.

  Granny got Willis to stay with us while Moses was gone. I was glad about that. We slept in Granny’s big feather bed together. Sometimes we’d laugh and talk so much that Granny’d have to holler up the ladder hole just to quiet us down.

  ———————

  Granpaw’s wall was still up against Victor. Granny told him it wasn’t none of his business — or hers — what decisions Victor and Momma made together. “It would just confuse things if we was to interfere,” Granny said. “I think he’s trying, Victor is. I really do.”

  “Trying my patience is what he’s doing,” Granpaw said.

  Victor was all smiles and smooth words, trying to get along with everybody, even with Granpaw. One time I was standing next to the rain barrel at the side of the house, watching Granpaw use his jackknife to cut yellow callus away from his thumb. Victor came around the front of the house, this time a fat new unlit cigar stuck out the corner of his mouth. When he saw Granpaw, he got a big smile on his face. “Another miserable day in paradise, hey Mr. Wood? Glad to see you up and around!”

  “Uh huh.” Granpaw sliced a thin piece of callus away from his thumb.

  “Is it always like this?” Victor asked. “Muggy and rainless, I mean?”

  Granpaw slipped the knifepoint in around his thumbnail. “No. T’ain’t.”

  Victor raised the hand with the snake tattoo and took the cigar away. “I thought you were some sort of meteorologist.”

  Granpaw cocked an eyebrow at Victor. “A what?”

  “A meteorologist. You know, a weatherman. A meteorologist loves to talk about the weather.”

  Granpaw went back, working on his thumb. “Well I ain’t one of them.”

  “That’s not what I hear, but all right. Anyway, I’m glad to see you up and about.” Victor’s eyes warmed over with friend-liness. “Orbie here thinks the world of you. Don’t you son?”

  I kept quiet.

  “His Momma says he does,” Victor said.

  “He don’t have to repeat it then, does he?” Granpaw said, still working on his thumb.

  “I know that. That’s not what I meant.” A cloud passed over Victor’s face, but then he caught himself and smiled. “You be careful with that knife now, Mr. Wood! With skin that tough, you might dull t
he blade!” He reassigned the cigar to the corner of his mouth and walked off toward the trailer.

  “Dumb ass City Slicker,” Granpaw said under his breath, but then he looked at me. “I ought not have said that. Ought I?”

  ———————

  Once, when Granpaw was in one of his spells, Victor out of the blue offered to take care of him. Granny wouldn’t let him. “This is woman’s work. Man’s got more important things to do.” Something in the way she said it made me think she wouldn’t let Victor take care of Granpaw even if it was a man’s work.

  He did help out with things though, Victor did, like when he went into Circle Stump to buy groceries. Sometimes he brought back soda pop and potato chips for us kids. Willis and me would each get a bottle and take the chips out on the front porch.

  Missy wouldn’t have any.

  She stayed close to Momma. Only time she said anything was when Momma asked her questions, simple questions like, “You want to eat now hon?” or “You got to pee?” Missy would answer “No Momma,” or “Yes Momma,” but in a whiny little voice made you want to slap her direct in the face, not to be mean or anything, just to wake her up from her spell. If Victor got too close, she would let out a scream that would soar up to the ceiling so loud Momma would have to take her off in another room. Granny would get a look on her face and shake her head.

  ———————

  Victor stayed sober. Him and Momma went to church in the fancy blue Cadillac. Circle Stump Church. People there liked Victor.

  “He got a natural way with folks,” Momma said. “When he wants to have, he does. Reverend Pennycall was plumb beside himself, introducing him around. I never seen the like.” She liked to be proud of Victor — of the way he looked, of the way he dressed — so fine, so important. I think his being important made her feel important too.

  Still they fought. I would hear them yelling at each other in the trailer. I heard things thump against the wall. One time Momma screamed. I saw Victor push out the door and go cussing all the way up the little wagon road toward the barn.