Seeing Red

by Kathryn Erskine

  I looked at Mama.

  “I – I don’t know what to say, Beau.”

  “Miz Porter, your family has always been more than kind to me.” He reached up to tug at his hair. “Now that Mr Porter’s gone, it seems only right that I should help take care of ya’ll for a change.”

  “But, Beau, that would be too big of a change. There are three of us…all living at your house?” She looked across the table at J bouncing in his seat and shook her head. “You’d never get any peace and quiet.”

  “But…I don’t like peace and quiet, Miz Porter. I get lonely all by myself.”

  Mama chewed her lip and looked around the room, her eyes settling on everything like maybe, hopefully, she was figuring out how to move it to Beau’s house. When she gazed into the dining room and beyond, Beau lit up.

  “I got me a nice big colour TV, Miz Porter. We can sit and watch all those TV women who are like you.”

  Mama tilted her head. “What women?”

  “You know, those women who are doing something constructive with their lives.”

  I held my breath because if I’d said that, Mama would know I was poking fun at her. But she didn’t look mad at all. In fact, she held her head up and was half smiling. “That’s a lovely offer, Beau, but I—”

  “You just think about it, okay? It’s a real big question. I need a lot of time for questions like that to run around my brain before they settle. So you take your time, all right?”

  She smiled. “All right, Beau. I’ll think about it.”

  When Mama turned away I gave Beau two thumbs up.

  At school, Miss Miller let us work on our Foxfire projects, “independently or in small, quiet groups,” she said, her eyes flicking to the door. She patrolled up and down the rows of desks just to make sure we kept it down to a low hum.

  She stopped at the front of my row, my desk, and crouched down. “I know you were concerned about the date on that grave marker,” she said, “so I tried to find out at the county courthouse.”

  I stared at her, because I didn’t know you could look that kind of stuff up, and also I was surprised she’d go out of her way like that for me.

  “Unfortunately during the Civil War and for some time afterwards, the county didn’t keep birth and death records, not very thoroughly, anyway, and the state didn’t take over doing it until the early 1900s, so I’m afraid he’s lost in that gap.”

  I tapped my pencil on my desk a few times. “Does that mean there’d be no information about Freedom Church, either?”

  She nodded. “Bill – Mr Reynolds has combed those records and he hasn’t found—”

  “Why is he looking that up?”

  Her face went a little pink, like maybe I’d caught her at something. “I-I think he just wants to find out the truth.”

  I let that sink in for a moment. Since he was a lawyer and he had to follow the law, maybe it was a good thing for him to be working on this case. Maybe he could find where on the Dunlop land the church had been. I knew he could stand up to Mr Dunlop. And I knew he didn’t like Mr Dunlop, either.

  Miss Miller was talking, and the edge in her voice was what got me to tune in. “…and while I know you don’t care much for him, he is—”

  “I changed my mind about him, Miss Miller. I think he’s okay. Mostly.”

  “Oh.” She smiled, and her voice went back to normal. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. Mostly.”

  She stood up again to continue her patrol, and I got an idea. I scribbled the words on a piece of notebook paper and tore it out of my binder. “Miss Miller?”

  She was halfway down the row, but she turned around and walked back to me.

  I dropped my voice to a whisper. “Could you give this to Mr Reynolds and see if he can translate it?” I folded up the piece of paper so no one could see the words Fieri Facias and handed it to her.

  “Okay,” she said slowly. “Is there anything he needs to know about it?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t even know if it means anything, but it’s the only thing on the—” I stopped myself just before saying map. “It’s the only thing I can’t figure out.”

  “Ah, like a piece of a puzzle.” She smiled. “I’ll let you know what he says.” And she went and put it right in her suede purse so I knew she realized how important it was.

  When I got home from school Reverend Benson was in the living room. Mama was crouching on the sofa, looking pale and small. He insisted I join them because, he said, “If you’re grown up enough to decide whether you go to church or not, you’re grown up enough to understand this discussion.”

  “Is it Rosie?” I asked.

  Mama shook her head. “Rosie’s fine.”

  “You see, Red, your mama has this notion of y’all moving in with Beau.”

  “I know,” I said.

  Reverend Benson cleared his throat. “Well, your mama being a widow and Beau being a single man, that would be living in sin, the two of them living together without being married.”

  “It’s not like that! Plus, it’s not just them; it’s me and J, too.”

  “Ex-act-ly,” he said triumphantly, turning to Mama. “Think of the message you’re sending your boys. They’ll believe they can pick up with any floozy – oh, not that I’m implying you’re a floozy, no, ma’am—”

  Mama’s foot started shaking up and down.

  “—but just think of how it looks. Think about your reputation. And your responsibility to your boys, to your whole community, and to Beau.” He stood up and grinned at both of us. “I know you’ll do the right thing.”

  Mama had barely shut the door behind him when I was after her. “You don’t have to listen to Reverend Benson. You don’t even like him!”

  Mama started tapping her foot. “Whether I care for Reverend Benson is not the point. In this case, I’m afraid he’s right.”

  “But that’s just dumb, Mama. Everyone knows Beau is like my brother. Daddy and you always thought of him like a son. So, who’s going to think bad about you?”

  “It’s not just me. I have to think about Beau’s reputation, too. They might think I’m using him by taking over his house without paying him rent or anything.”

  “Then we’ll pay him!”

  “With what, Red? We’re in debt. Even after selling our property, there are so many bills to pay, we’ll only have a tiny bit of money, and that won’t last long. Back home, we can live with your aunt Patty, at least until I get on my feet.” She shook her head. “How could we possibly pay Beau rent?”

  “By getting a job!”

  Mama froze, and her face went thoughtful, almost surprised. “Things have settled down, now,” she said slowly, “and you boys are in school… You’re right, I suppose I could look for a job.”

  “I meant me, Mama, not you.”

  “Why not me?” Mama asked.

  “What can you do?”

  “What can I do? There are a lot of things I can do, young man! You, on the other hand, need to go to school and do your studies so that one day you’ll be able to take care of yourself.” She marched into the kitchen and I heard pots and pans banging, so I guessed that was the end of that. I just hoped she’d think of some job she could do because without Beau’s house as an option, Ohio was getting closer and closer.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Mama and Rosie

  Mama plopped the macaroni-and-cheese dish on the table and sat down to supper with the rest of us. She didn’t serve herself, though. She was busy folding and unfolding her napkin as she told Beau that we couldn’t move in with him and explained what Reverend Benson said.

  Beau swallowed his forkful of macaroni. “Oh. Okay. Reverend Benson knows what’s right, so whatever he says I guess we have to follow.”

  I snorted.

  “Well,” Mama said, her foot starting to shake, “I’m not sure he’s right about everything, but I think he may be right about this issue.”

  “And peach pie,” J said.

  “What does pe
ach pie have to do with anything?” I asked him.

  J looked at Mama. “Reverend Benson said his wife is always in the kitchen, where women should be, spending their time making his favourite things to eat, like peach pie.”

  I looked across the table at Beau and I bet my eyes were as big as his. I swear we both scooted our chairs back from the table at the same time, ready for Mama to blow a gasket.

  Her foot was shaking faster than a timing light, and she was rocking her fork between two fingers as fast as a gauge gone berserk. Her eyes and lips were tight. “I don’t have the time – or the inclination – to bake pies all day.”

  “But I like your pies, Mama,” J said.

  “Then you should learn how to bake them.”

  “I’m not a girl! I shouldn’t have to cook stuff!”

  Mama’s fork flew out of her hand and clanked on the floor at the same time her hand hit the table so hard the lid fell off the sugar bowl.

  J’s mouth dropped open. First, he stared at the fork on the floor, then at the sugar bowl, and finally at Mama.

  Even Mama looked surprised, but that didn’t stop her from talking. “I thought I’d made it crystal clear that cooking and housework are not just for women to do, but apparently there’s still some confusion.” She stood up from the table and marched out of the kitchen.

  “Man, J,” I said, “how stupid are you? Don’t you know saying stuff like that is only going to make her mad?”

  Mama reappeared in the kitchen with her coat and purse, glaring at me now. “It’s not just the talk that upsets me, it’s the thought behind it. I have a perfect right to be angry about that. It’s my life!” She dropped her purse on the counter as she put on her coat. “You all can clean up after supper. This kitchen floor needs scrubbing, J,” she said pointedly, “and the whole house needs dusting and vacuuming.” She glared at me and Beau.

  “Yes, ma’am, Miz Porter,” Beau said.

  “I’m going out. And I want you gentlemen to think about—” She let out a sound between outrage and disgust, storming out of the kitchen and out the door. We listened to the car door slam and the gravel spin as she took off.

  J tired himself out scrubbing the kitchen floor and went to bed without a fight. Beau had vacuumed, I’d dusted, and we were finishing cleaning the kitchen by the time we heard the Biscayne wagon crunch its way back onto the gravel. I was surprised to hear two car doors open.

  I heard Mama say, “I could’ve dropped you right at your front door.”

  “No, Mrs Porter.” It was Rosie’s voice. “I want to walk the path because Daddy’ll be asleep by now, so I can sneak in – I mean, I can go in without waking him up, like the car and headlights might. Thank you for taking me out to supper.”

  I looked at Beau. The two of them had gone out to supper?

  “Thank you, Rosie,” Mama said. “I really needed your company.”

  “Oh, any time. That was fun.” Rosie giggled. “I wonder if anyone heard us singing, what with the windows all the way down. You have a real nice voice, Mrs Porter. You should sing more often.”

  Rosie was always wanting people to sing. She tried to get me to join her in that song from the Coke ad, “I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing”. After enough times of me singing off-key on purpose because I thought it was so funny, she got fed up.

  “You remember how that song goes, right?” Rosie asked.

  They started singing that “I Am Woman” song. We watched them through the screen door, Mama’s arm around Rosie’s waist, Rosie’s arm around Mama’s shoulder, walking towards the shop, and I was surprised to see that Rosie was taller than Mama.

  I heard Beau next to me humming along with them, and then start singing softly.

  I stopped him when he sang, “I am woman”.

  “Beau! It’s not a song that’s meant for you.”

  He looked at me, then back out at Mama and Rosie. “I think it’s a song that’s meant for everyone, Red.” And he went on singing about wisdom born of pain.

  He was still singing as Mama stood alone in the moonlight by the shop, watching Rosie walk down the line of trees to her house.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  What Happened to Rosie

  Miss Miller was on recess duty and called me over. “Here’s your answer from Mr Reynolds,” she said, handing me back my piece of paper. “If you have any questions, I may be able to explain it better.”

  I opened up the paper and read Mr Reynolds’s handwriting. I couldn’t make out any of it, not because his handwriting was bad but because most of the words he used I didn’t know. Writ of execution, debtor, judgement rendered, recorded lien, foreclose. I looked up at Miss Miller.

  “I know,” she said. “That’s why I had him explain it to me in plain English. Basically what it means is that if someone can’t pay their debt, the person they owe the money to can take away their property – land, for example – in order to get paid back.” She looked at me. “Does that help?”

  “Not really. I mean, I understand what you said, I just…”

  “It just doesn’t help you solve the puzzle.”

  “Right.”

  “Well, maybe it will. Sometimes we need to let things mull around for a while before we figure them out.”

  I was letting things mull around that afternoon while I was looking for the church, but it wasn’t making any sense yet. Who was it that couldn’t pay a debt? And who was going to get something for it? Was Old Man Porter making the Dunlops pay for something? Maybe the Dunlops were supposed to pay George Freeman. Maybe they never paid. Is that why the old Mr Dunlop shot George Freeman in the back? I was getting frustrated that I couldn’t figure it out.

  I was also getting pretty discouraged about ever finding that altar, so I was almost relieved when I saw Rosie sitting on that big rock in the middle of the creek, knowing I could just sit for a while and talk with her. She was hunched up and moving funny, so I figured she had her transistor radio and was singing and moving to the music. When I got closer, though, I realized what was happening. She was crying.

  I plunged right into the water, not even trying to pick my way across the stepping stones. “Rosie!”

  She flinched. “Red! You scared me!”

  My jaw dropped when I saw her face. There was a big bruise on one side, so half of her face looked blue-ish.

  She tried to cover it up by putting her hand on her cheek, but she winced in pain.

  “What happened, Rosie?”

  She looked away and wouldn’t answer.

  “Did your daddy do that to you?” My voice came out like a growl.

  She kind of shook her head. “Red, don’t go doing anything, you’ll just get hurt.”

  My voice dropped even lower. “He’s not getting away with this.”

  But I didn’t know how to stop him. It wasn’t like me and Thomas could glue her daddy’s hands down with contact cement, although I sure would like to try. I had to do something.

  I convinced her to come back home with me. “Mama!” I yelled. I coaxed Rosie into the kitchen as she tried to cover her face with her hands.

  Mama came in from the dining room. “I’m right here, Re—” She stopped when she saw Rosie. “What happened?”

  “Her daddy!” I said.

  Rosie burst out crying again, and Mama ran over to us, pulling Rosie into her arms.

  I walked straight to the phone and picked up the receiver.

  “What are you doing?” Rosie squeaked.

  “Calling the sheriff.”

  Rosie gasped.

  “He’s right, honey,” Mama said, putting her head against the good side of Rosie’s face. “We have to.”

  “The sheriff?” Rosie breathed, as I dialled the number. “What are you going to tell him?”

  I looked at Rosie, one side of her face all swelled up. “The truth.”

  Mama, Rosie and I were sitting at the kitchen table with cheese and Ritz crackers that none of us were eating when Beau came to the kitchen door, wi
ping his hands on a grease rag. “I done fixed two cars today all by my—” He saw Rosie, who’d forgotten about her face and tried covering it, but it was too late. Beau’s jaw set and his face went hard. “I think I’ll go stop by the Dunlops’.”

  “Now, Beau,” Mama said, holding Rosie’s hand, “you don’t need to go over there. The sheriff went and we’re waiting for his call now.”

  “Don’t you worry, Miz Porter, I’m going to be respectful and all, just pay them a visit and let Mr Dunlop know I know what’s going on without saying as much.” He turned to go. “And let him know that Beau don’t like it. No, sir!”

  I tried to go with him, but both Mama and Beau insisted I stay put.

  “He thinks I’m harmless,” Beau said, “but he don’t know Beau.”

  I finally agreed because Beau convinced me that Mr Dunlop would only get madder if I were there. But I sure couldn’t help picturing Mr Dunlop as a Rock’Em Sock’Em Robot, whose head I knocked off over and over and over.

  Mama decided to “have some girl fun”, so she and Rosie went to look in her closet for more clothes she could fix up for Rosie. As soon as they left the kitchen, I hightailed it over to the bushes by the Dunlops’ so I could watch what Beau did.

  He was standing at their front door talking to Mr Dunlop, whose face was peeking out from the crack.

  “I bet you want to wring the neck of the person that done that. I know I sure do! Yes, sir, if I ever catch that guy, he’s gonna wish he were dead by the time I finish with him. In fact, I’m gonna sit right here on the porch all night long and watch out for him and make sure he don’t come back.”

  The door opened wider and Mr Dunlop half stepped out. “You gonna do no such thing, you big—”

  But just as he said big, Beau marched up the steps and loomed over him like an angry black bear and Mr Dunlop stepped back with a snort. “Fine, you fool enough to sit here all night in the cold, go ahead!” He also flung some choice words at Beau, but Beau just smiled and said, “Thank you very much,” touched the bill of his cap, and sat on the top step of the Dunlops’ porch.