Professor Renoir's Collection of Oddities, Curiosities, and Delights

by Randall Platt

  Babe was always the first to break their long silences and starefests. “I’m going to find that Heartbreak Creek tomorrow. Thought I’d take Euclid down and give us both a bath. Tired of just spit baths at the sink.”

  Lotty pointed to Babe’s ankle. “Well, be sure to wash those stupid lines off.”

  “Wanna come?”

  “Ug, won’t catch me bathing in the creek! Miss V lets me soak in her tub and it’s luscious.”

  Denny stuck his head into the barn. “Lotty? You coming?”

  “Yes!” Lotty dashed through the door, leaving it ajar.

  Babe looked around for something—anything—to throw. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven peaches oozed their splattered, ripe pulp down the barn door.

  Babe walked to the door, scraped some peach pulp stuck between the cracks, and ate it.

  “Stupid Babe!” she growled at herself. “You love peaches!”

  41

  Babe took a towel, a bar of lye soap, a set of clean clothes, and stuffed it all into a canvas bag. She took her dirty clothes so she could whack them clean at the creek. She grabbed her silver brush for Euclid’s hair and began planning how she was going to wrestle him into his bath.

  Euclid sniffed the air as Babe approached. “Yes, that’s soap you smell. Come on, you,” she said, holding up his collar and leash. “Quit your whining. You know this is a long time coming.”

  He screamed at her, but she knew it was just jabber. She opened his cage and put a handful of cherries next to the door. He looked at them, then at Babe. Slowly, he put his hand toward the cherries. “Just onaccounta you’re moving snail-slow don’t mean I don’t see you,” she said, acting casual and watching him out of the corner of her eye. She slapped the collar on him while he popped the cherries into his mouth. “Come on. Time we see the sights and get ourselfs cleaned up.”

  Euclid’s answer was ping! ping! ping! Cherry pits shot up at Babe.

  “You’re a regular clown, Euclid. Maybe you oughta join a circus.”

  At first, Euclid walked on all fours, then two-legged. Babe thought he looked like a kid on his way to the first day of school. Little excited, little frightened. He took her hand. They probably looked a sight from behind. A giant lumbering along, duffel slung over her shoulder, walking hand in hand with a chimpanzee.

  Euclid stopped, sniffing the air.

  “You’re smelling water, ain’t you? Come on. Don’t be a baby.” She gently tugged him along. “I seed the creek from the hillside the other day. You’ll like it. Cool and pretty and private.”

  The creek sparkled through the trees below. The trail widened as they got closer. Babe looked around and there it was—the landslide Miss V said had put an end to her logging business. It was easy to tell where the hillside had once been. There were trees, mud, rocks piled into the creek, which had taken another course on the opposite shore. “Miss V says there’s a lunatic living over there,” she said down to Euclid, pointing across the creek. “So, don’t you go wanderin’.”

  Babe’s knees cracked as she crouched down to talk to Euclid. “Now, you been in a creek before.” Euclid sat on his haunches, staring at the water as though thinking things over. “I ain’t gonna throw you in, if that’s what you think.” He looked up at her. “Unless you want me to.

  “We got to bring Jupiter down here when he’s better. See if he’s up to smackin’ a fish or two out of the creek. Might be just the change he’s been needing. Remind him of his wildness.

  “Come on now, you first, old man,” she said. She took his leash and walked him to the water’s edge. He stopped. “I know it’s cold.” He stepped back. “I seed you swim plenty of time, so don’t tell me you can’t.”

  She waded out a few feet. “Come on. It’s fun.” She whisked water toward him, splashing his face. Babe grinned at his look of insult. He slapped his hand on the water. Babe tried to look insulted right back.

  The rest was easy. It had become a game. They kicked, waded, and splashed. He drank his fill and spit water out toward Babe. Back on shore she brushed him, taking extra care around his cuts. She cleaned and patted dry his small ears, forever enraged anyone would cut them off to look like a gorilla. He leaned into her as she massaged his ears dry, and he groaned in delight.

  “Now me,” Babe said. She found a warm, sandy place to undress. Part of a downed tree jutted out—perfect for hanging out clothes to dry.

  She tied Euclid off so he could sit turning over rocks on the shore and look for things to eat underneath. With a great oooof, Babe pulled off her boots and placed them on their side in the creek so water could run into them. Next her socks. She hated looking at her bare feet—so huge, red, gnarled, dirty—so she stepped into the water so she didn’t have to. Everything else was quickly off. Grabbing her soap, she waded further out.

  “Cold as snakes!” she bellowed.

  Once she was just over her knees, she dropped down, gasping at the cold, then lay back and let the water run over her.

  Finally! Free of clothes and the trappings that made her feel so big and cumbersome. She felt somehow smaller this way, especially out here where there were no bathhouse mirrors. A wide grin covered her face as she took water into her mouth and gushed it out and up, then splashed water all around.

  Euclid sent out a screech.

  “I’m okay, Euclid! Ain’t drowning! This is fun!” She splashed more, making waves. She felt along the bottom and brought up huge scoopfuls of sand, silt, pebbles, and slippery things.

  She took the soap and ran it all over, then leaned her head back and let the water pull against her long hair, which streamed past her shoulders and arms.

  Freezing now, she splashed her way back, toweled off, and pulled a clean slip over her head.

  Euclid started jumping up and down, barking and chirping.

  “What are you jabbering at?”

  But he wasn’t looking at Babe. He was looking at two people across the creek. Babe stood up straight and squinted. “Hesh, Euclid. You stay here and hesh.”

  She waded back into the creek, fording easily, even as it got deeper and the current stronger. She got a closer look at them. They were boys, she could tell. One held binoculars to his eyes and the other held a small, square box. It wasn’t the first time Babe had been spied upon. It wasn’t the first time she’d been photographed by those new box cameras.

  She scooped up some silt from the creek and let a few rocks stay in her hand. Stalking closer, she doubted they knew what an arm and aim she had or how fast a giant can run, especially free of a heavy skirt.

  Their laughter stopped. The closer she got, the bigger she got. Her face felt angry red and her eyes were spitting blue fire. She let a rock fly. Bonk! The boy dropped the binoculars around his neck and his hand went to his mouth. Denny! His scream was echoed by Euclid, jumping up and down across the creek. Another rock flew and this time she hit the boy with the camera. She kept walking. They turned tail and tried to scramble back up the rocky hillside toward the woods, screaming curse words behind their backs.

  Babe crashed out of the water and grabbed the one with the camera and yanked it out of his hands.

  “Hey!” he said, falling down, looking up at the sequoia-tree-tall girl over him. He was covered in her shadow.

  “Don’t crush me!” he screamed.

  She took the camera box between her huge hands and squeezed until the wood snapped apart and the insides fell out. She yanked at the film and flung it far into the creek, then tossed the remains down to the scrawny, redheaded boy.

  “We were just having some fun!” Denny shouted, holding his hand to his bleeding lip. “Babe! Don’t hurt him! You okay, Hank?”

  She glared at the boy on the ground, then at Denny. She felt like her jaw was crushing her teeth into dust. “Don’t no one spy on me!”

  “We weren’t sp-spying!” Denny stuttered, holding his upper lip. “Lotty said you were going to give the monkey a bath and . . .”

  “Don’t give me that line of
gab!” she yelled. “You knew what you was looking at! Up close!” She pointed to Hank. “Taking pictures!”

  “We didn’t hurt you!” Hank called out.

  Denny looked at the blood from his lip. “Bet I’m going to need stitches!”

  “You’d need a hearse and a six-foot hole if I had a bigger rock!” She looked around, picked up a large rock, and tossed it up and down in her hand. “You wanna try for that?”

  “No!”

  She looked down at Hank, who had been trying to backstroke up the sand and rocks. “Not me!”

  Babe realized her wet slip was clinging to her body, giving them a detailed image. She figured they’d seen what they came for.

  “You’re not going to tell, are you?” Denny asked, stepping a bit closer. “Hank just wanted to meet you. After all I told him about . . .”

  “You know, that camera was new and cost me five bucks and . . .”

  She picked up the crushed camera and tossed it at him. “Ah, it broke,” Babe said. “Maybe you can get your money back.”

  She plucked her slip away from her body and hoped her face wasn’t showing as hot as it felt. She gave them one last, threatening Magnifica glare and turned, praying her backside didn’t show through.

  “Say, are those real tattoos?” Denny asked, pointing to her arms. “Look, she’s got tattoos! Man! I’m getting me some of those when I leave home! Did it hurt?”

  She turned on him, and he took a step back. “Did ’em myself with a fishhook and lion’s blood!” She didn’t crack a smile while watching their eyes bulge and mouths drop open. “Stupid rubes,” she mumbled under her breath. “Believe anything.” She turned again to leave.

  “Hey, what’s your monkey’s name?” Hank called out, pointing to Euclid, still making a racket across the creek.

  All Babe had to do was toss and catch the rock in her hand and the two boys ran off like scaredy-cats. She picked up a part of the smashed camera for a souvenir.

  “Monkey!” she growled out loud, looking at Euclid across the creek, still pacing on his short leash. “I’m coming, monkey!”

  Slowly, Babe allowed the smooth current of the stream to calm her. She splashed water on her embarrassed face. “Gonna always be cameras, Babe,” she whispered through handfuls of water. “You know that.”

  She washed her eyes in case there had been tears of anger, and took in a deep breath as she marveled at the greens, the sparkling of the water, and the soft breeze overhead. She turned a complete circle. There, upstream, was an old tree leaning away from the hillside. A long rope dangled, useless and now far above the shallow water.

  “Some swimming hole,” she muttered, recalling the large photo of this very area before the . . . landslide. She scanned the hillside, wondering how just that small section of it coulda just—swoosh!—slipped away. And why didn’t Miss V just hire men to clean it all up?

  “Hire,” she said, continuing across the stream. “That’s why. Dope.”

  The closer she walked toward the slide, the larger the cleanup job looked. She stopped where a tree had fallen into the water. The branches were still sticking out, but the needles and cones were dead and golden. She easily snapped off a few and tossed them across the creek. Sizing up the tree, she bent down and wrapped her arms around it. Touching what she couldn’t see was . . . “It’s just a tree, Babe. Ain’t no sea monsters in that water.” She bent down deeper, gripped harder, and Uuuuuuhhhhhh!

  She gave it a second go, this time pretending the dead tree was just a fake half-ton barbell. Grrrrrrrr! Nothing doing. She stood up, rubbing her cramping backside, then stepped back, looked down, and thought the problem over.

  A long, deep breath and a third try. One . . . two . . . Ugggggg! This time she remembered the boy with the firecrackers named Woodrow, stuck underwater back in Pendleton, and she felt a surge of strength. Threeee! Her knees slowly straightened, her legs burned, her face burned, her eyes squeezed tight, and she grunted like no lady ever had before. But, yes! Finally! Babe had the tree in her arms. Now what? Do something before her blood vessels all pop open! She backed up, pulling the tree free of the mud’s grip. She dropped it with a splash and a huge crack on the shore of the creek.

  “Easy . . . as . . .” she gasped, “pie.” She washed the bark, pitch, and sand from her hands and arms.

  She washed out some clothes, twisted the water out of them, then began the uphill trek back. They arrived at the barn clean, hungry, and tired.

  42

  “Hello, Babe. I see you’re all spiffed up,” Miss V said as Babe stepped carefully onto the front porch where she, Lotty, and Denny were sitting. Her hair was dry and curly and she let it hang down her back, held with a blue ribbon. She wore a clean shirt and skirt. She couldn’t bear climbing into her overalls when she was so clean. Her boots were still drying, and so she wore the stretchy slippers Lucretia the Lobster Woman had knit for her, saying she knew the value of comfortable footwear.

  “Had me a good time at the creek this morning.” Babe’s eyes landed on Denny, sitting on the porch railing, whittling a stick. There was a bright-white dressing on his upper lip.

  “Cut yourself shaving, Denny?” she asked, straight-faced.

  “Walked into a door,” he muttered, not looking at her.

  “Babe,” Lotty said, “I haven’t seen that shirt on you before. Blue is your color!”

  “Got this up in Hood River.” She didn’t add she’d pinched it off a clothesline. Men’s size extra large and hard to come by. “Sure’s a nice creek, Miss V. Seed the landslide.”

  “Horrible, isn’t it?” she said.

  “Well, I seed the problem from the other side.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I . . .” Another glance toward Denny. “I waded acrost the creek and took me a good long look at that landslide from over there.”

  “I hope that horrible Mr. Luckett didn’t see you. He’s been known to shoot at trespassers,” Miss V said.

  “I been known to do that myownself,” Babe returned. Denny’s head popped up. Lotty noticed and Babe wondered if she should snitch—tell her what her sweety-cakes Denny and his ogling friend, Hank, had been up to.

  “You know, Miss V,” Babe went on, “if we was to plan it right and with enough manpower, we could maybe clean out that landslide and you’d get your creek back.”

  “Oh yes, we’ve all thought about that,” Miss V said, waving Babe’s idea away with her wee hand. “Cleve says it’s just too much land in too tricky a place. And what manpower? And with what money to pay them? Then there’s that Mr. Luckett. He won’t even answer his door, let alone work with us on getting the creek back. How many times did your dad go over there to talk to him, Denny?”

  “I dunno. Lots. I guess.” His lip was so swollen it slurred his speech.

  “Then Luckett’s set up that rig for gold mining. Stupid old fool,” Miss V snapped.

  “He’s not so bad,” Denny said. “Lets us boys fish and trap there.”

  “Aren’t you forbidden on that side of the creek?” Miss V said.

  Finally, Denny looked up at Babe. “Kinda.”

  “I got a few ideas. We got Cleve, Denny, and maybe a few of his friends to help. Me, of course.”

  “Well,” Miss V said, standing up, putting an end to the conversation. “It’s nearly one. Time I got myself down to the mill. Got a small order in for some cordwood. Come along, Denny. Your father’s going to need to help splitting wood. Get the wagon.”

  Denny tossed his stick and jumped down off the porch.

  “Denny, wait up!” Lotty said. “You promised to show me how fast you can hitch a horse.”

  “Ma’am?” Babe said. Miss V stopped and turned. “What do you do down there at the mill besides look at photographs and maps of what used to be?”

  “Well, that’s a bit impertinent!”

  “Sorry, ma’am. I wisht you let me tell you my idea.”

  “Idea for what?”

  “To get you your creek back.”


  “Were you listening? I’m nearly broke. I’m not a woman of God, but maybe that landslide was God’s way of telling me to sell out.”

  “Oh, you mean that landslide was a godsend?” That brought Miss V’s eyes back to Babe. “I thought you said we was the godsends.”

  “Babe. I have family now. Real blood family.” She tapped her chest. “Now I have a reason for this to keep on beating. If I sell, there’ll be some money for her. Keep her safe and away from carnies and circuses and all that humiliation.”

  Babe felt that pain inside again—the one that started in her toes and shot up through her body and made her eyes and ears throb. Real blood family. She crushed down the pain. “But, Miss V, if we was to clear the landslide, get your creek and pond back, could you start up your mill?”

  “You’re sweet, Babe, but you’re just dreaming. Do you know how many tons of rock, dirt, and downed trees are there? We’d need teams of oxen and steam tractors and a crew of dozens and—”

  “And Egypt,” Babe said, cutting her off.

  Miss V stopped midstep and looked up at Babe. “Egypt?”

  “’Member how good that ol’ girl is at moving things? How she can wrap her trunk around a tent pole and carry it like it was a baseball bat? How she can pull a skid full of hay?”

  “I remember,” she whispered.

  “So, what do you got to lose if it don’t cost nothing?”

  “Well, I can’t spare Cleve. He has to help with some small lumber orders. And Denny, he’s about the laziest boy I’ve ever met.”

  “Then you won’t miss him.”

  Babe toyed with the piece of broken camera in her skirt pocket, her new good-luck juju. “How about you let me be a godsend for a bit?”

  Miss V looked up at Babe’s large, grinning face. “You’re an odd one.”

  “All giants is odd. Says so in them fairy tales.”

  43

  An hour later, Babe, Lotty, and Denny stood next to the creek, taking in Babe’s proposed task. “Oh, sure,” Lotty said, looking up from the creek at the landslide. “We’re going to move all of that there”—she pointed up—“over there. Sure we can do that. Sometimes I worry about you, Babe.”