Sook and I sat on the porch, playing a game of checkers.
“Sookie Wainwright, it’s imperative we speak to you,” Dixie called from over the fence. She wore a delicate, white pillbox hat that resembled a dollop of whipped cream resting on her mass of teased hair.
My aunt remained engrossed in her next board move.
“Sookie. I know you can hear me.” Dixie approached the gate and hollered out again, “Sookie Wainwright, are you listening to me?”
Sook surveyed the checkered board and threatened, “Dixie McAllister, I’m giving you fair warning. If you trespass on this property, there’s gonna be hell to pay.”
Dixie huffed, returning to the circle of ladies. They pow-wowed, strategizing their next move.
“Yes!” Sook jumped two of my red plastic pieces and exclaimed, “King me!”
Outside our gate, the ladies carried on like it was some hell-dousing prayer meeting.
“It’s an unholy perversion!” Mrs. Calvert held one white, gloved hand into the air, crying out, “It’s a blatant sin against our Lord’s will!”
Another woman, whom I recognized from the Piggly Wiggly, insisted, “Someone must rescue that precious little boy from that house of sin!”
Dixie preached, “I ain’t sure what this god-forsaken world is comin’ to, but we mustn’t allow this abomination to abide here on Digby!”
Maudie Perkins announced, “It’s the godless communists!”
“Communist?” asked Dixie.
The collection of Christian crusaders all turned their eyes to Maudie.
“Yes. It’s the communists!” she repeated with a fervent conviction.
“Shut up, Maudie.” Dixie dismissed her.
Feigning interest on our checker game, from the corner of her mouth, Sookie whispered, “Poppy, listen up. If those fools pass through my gate, I want you to go in yonder and fetch your great granddaddy’s musket off the mantel.”
“I will not,” I refused.
She spoke in a murmur, “Child, you listen to your Aunt Sook. Go get my gun!”
“Sookie, have you come completely unhinged?”
“I won’t kill ’em,” she declared. “I’ll aim right over the top of their heads. I’m gonna scare those nervous hens all the way back to their coop.”
“It’s finally happened, Sook. You’ve come completely undone.”
Dixie hollered, “Sookie, it is imperative that I speak with you concerning that sweet child.”
My old aunt fought to rise from her chair. “You’ll do no such thing, Dixie. If you step one foot onto my property, your skinny ass will be full of buck shot.”
“Sookie,” I said, “let her come on in and say her piece. Let’s be done with it.”
Arms crossed tight, Sook grumbled low, deliberating with herself. “OK, Dixie, it’s against my better judgement, but you may come and speak your mind. But only you. I don’t want all those clucking chickens pecking in my yard.”
Dixie fought with the gate latch.
I hollered, “Mrs. McAllister, you gotta jiggle it, and give it a firm kick.”
With a bump of her pump, the gate swung open. Dixie grew uneasy as she entered the yard. She smoothed her cotton skirt with the palms of her hands and started a determined pace up the sidewalk.
Stepping onto our porch, Dixie appeared as if she were approaching the lion’s den at the Savannah Zoo. She cleared her throat and nervously fiddled with the collar of her blouse. “Good mornin’, Sook.” She nodded her head at me. “Poppy.”
“Dixie, say what you’ve come to say, and then leave us be.”
“Sookie, you know I’m not one to stick my nose where it ought not be, but I believe I must speak to you about the disturbing news that has recently come to my attention.” As she spoke, her left eye began to twitch about.
Sook asked, “I reckon, you’re speakin’ of Poppy?”
“Yes.” Dixie gathered herself. “May we speak privately?”
Sook signaled for my exit with a wave of her hand. I gave a smile and nod to Mrs. McAllister and went on inside.
Sookie cautioned, “Dixie, I’m giving you fair warning, I ain’t certain how any of this is any of your concern.”
“I’m fretting about the little precious boy’s welfare.”
Sookie growled like an old bear as she rocked, “Dixie McAllister, don’t mistake my silence for hospitality. I may look calm and collected, but in my mind, I’ve already kicked your skinny ass all the way to Charleston and back.”
Dixie paid her no attention and started up. “I’ve always had an uncomfortable feeling in my gut that sumpthin’ wasn’t right with that child. When she arrived, I said to my husband, Carl, something ain’t right with that child.”
“Is that so?” Sook bit down on her jaw. Gripping tight to the arms of her rocker, it appeared that old Sook was holding herself down in the seat.
Another anxious convulsion caused Dixie’s teal-coated eyelid to twitch nervously about.
“Yessum,” Mrs. McAllister replied. “I said to my Carl, why has Sookie got that sweet little girl locked up in that big house with no proper schooling?”
“Dixie, the child has proper schooling. I suspect Poppy could run circles around your two Neanderthals.”
Mrs. McAllister clutched to her breast. “My heart breaks for that confused little boy.”
“Oh, Dixie. Calm yourself. I believe you’ve been touched by this heat, or are you plagiarizing Tennessee Williams with all this bullshit?”
Dixie yanked a delicate hanky from her breast pocket and dabbed her dry eyes. “That poor child,” she slobbered. “It just breaks my heart.” Waving her lilac hanky about, she looked as if she were starting the stock car race over at the county fair.
“Ah, horse shit!” Sook declared. “Dixie, if you’re gonna start blubbering, could you take your tears over onto my lawn? My grass needs a good watering.”
“Sookie Wainwright, you’re heartless.” Her left eye winked involuntarily. “That poor child is confused. He needs to come to know the Lord.”
Sook asked, “Dixie, are you winking at me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Sook. It’s a condition brought on by all my worry. My poor nerves are frayed with all this blatant sin and perversion.”
“That child is off to church every Sunday morning. I suspect Poppy could quote scriptures as well as any redneck pastor in Savannah.”
“It’s just plain wrong what you’re doin’ to that precious boy.”
“Dixie, not that it’s any of your concern, but the child arrived on a Greyhound bus from Arkansas in a lace dress. And I’m not of the mind to go telling Poppy what she’s gotta wear or what she ain’t gonna wear.” Sookie pointed her cane to Dixie’s tiny hat. “I certainly can’t prevent you from comin’ out in broad daylight with that there ridiculous hat. I can’t stop Poppy, neither.”
Mrs. McAllister ignored the insult. “Sook, I am only suggestin’ that perhaps living here with you ain’t the proper place for a child with such oddities.”
“Poppy!” Sookie called out to me.
“Yessum.”
“Haul your tail feathers out here. Dixie McAllister wants to discuss your proclivities.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I arrived from the screen door and took a seat in the chair next to Sook. I asked. “How are the boys and Mr. McAllister?”
“Poppy, Dixie ain’t here for neighborly niceties,” Sook replied. “Word has traveled through all of Savannah about your peculiar situation.”
“Yessum.”
Dixie kneeled at my side and took my hand in hers. “Child, you understand that I’m just heartsick about your circumstance.” Her left eye convulsed about.
I asked, “Are you feeling OK, Mrs. McAllister?”
“Poppy, Dixie wants you to put on some britches and stop dressing like a silly girl.”
“Why?” I asked Sook. I turned back to Dixie. “Why so, Mrs. McAllister?”
“Child, it’s a sin against all of nature.”
“Oh, I see. That’s mighty kind of you. I appreciate your concern. But my soul is in fine condition. I can’t explain why in tarnation I’m wired this way. I suppose the good Lord will shed some light on it when I arrive at the pearly gates. But I’ve known it deep in my gut for some time. I was fortunate enough to be reared by womenfolk who let me be just who I am.”
Dixie cleared her throat. “Child, sometimes your elders are supposed to provide the guidance to keep you on a straight and narrow path. Perhaps it isn’t in your best interest to be gussied up like this. You should be a proper boy like my angelic little Tommy and Timmy. That is who the Lord intended you to be.”
“I don’t know nothin’ about God’s intention,” I said, “but I was a real sad case before I understood just who I was—a pitifully sad case. Miss Loretta ain’t never been much of a momma, but I reckon she saved my life on the day she first dolled me up. My grandma Lainey was a God-fearing believer, and when she saw how much happier I was, even Lainey determined to let it be.”
Dixie took her a deep breath.
“The child has got nothin’ more to say on this matter,” Sookie announced. “She’s made her decision, and I don’t believe for a single, solitary second that it has been an easy one. No child wakes up one morning and invites such disappointment and ridicule. Besides, being a woman these days ain’t all that fun. It’s a particular kind of fool who enjoys ratting their follicles into giant gawd-damned bubbles.” Sook pointed to Dixie’s grand teased yellow bouffant, “Nothin’ I could say would stop you from runnin’ around town dressed up like some Christian clown with your minefield of makeup! Poppy ain’t gonna listen to me, neither.”
Dixie nervously fingered the bleached fringe about her face. “Why, I’ve never been so insulted in all my life!” Her anxious left eye twittered.
“Oh, sure you have, Dixie. Don’t underestimate yourself. And for God’s sake, stop winking at me!”
“Sook, don’t be ridiculous,” Dixie snapped back. “It’s just a silly tic.”
Her eye, rapidly twitched again.
Sookie remarked, “I’m not casting aspersions on anyone’s sexual proclivities, but Dixie, your particular preference ain’t my cup of tea.” My aunt toyed with her. “For the past year, my place has been at full occupancy with its share of sexual deviants. I got no room for a carpet-munchin’ lezbo, too!”
Dixie’s attempt to control her twitching was futile. “Sookie Wainwright, you know full well I love my Carl.”
“OK, Dixie. Don’t get your bloomers in a bind,” my aunt taunted. “I’m just sayin’ if you’re hankering for a big slice of hairy cherry pie, you need to keep walkin’ seven doors up and to the right. I believe old Alice Faye will accommodate your particular appetite.”
Dixie’s disgust was palatable. “You’re a vile woman, Sookie Wainwright!”
“You’ve said your piece, Dixie. Now, kindly get your skinny ass off my porch. You have three seconds to get back onto Digby Street, or your backside will be full of buckshot.”
“Sookie Wainwright, you need to get yourself some help. This whole sordid affair is an abomination.” Dixie contorted her pink mouth in disgust. “It’s revoltin’. You are an embarrassment to all of Savannah!”
Old Sook slightly elevated her right hip and floated a gaseous air biscuit.
Wholly offended, Mrs. McAllister rapidly fanned the sulfur scent. “Sook, you are rude and crude and vulgar!”
“Dixie, I believe you’ve gone soft in the head,” Sook replied. “You’re not firing on all cylinders. All that yellah hair color has turned your brain to corn mush.”
Mrs. McAllister huffed and started for the gate. “And don’t think for a second that I don’t know that it was you who shot my sweet little Tommy with a BB gun.”
Dixie fought with the front latch.
I called out, “Mrs. McAllister, you gotta wiggle the thingamajig!”
Cackling, Sookie hollered, “It wasn’t Tommy!”
“What?” Dixie looked over her shoulder as she labored with the rusty latch.
“It was the other one!” Sook stood from her rocker, and called out to her, “I shot the booger picker!”
From my bedroom window, I caught sight of Jackson as he paced outside our front gate. He wore a tight-lipped, solemn expression with a serious brow.
“Sook,” I called from my bedroom door. “We have ourselves some trouble brewing.”
I watched from my open window while Jackson lingered on the sidewalk.
From downstairs, Sookie hollered out the screen, “Mr. Taylor, I do believe you’ve spent more time contemplating my front gate than any living soul in Savannah.”
Jackson ducked low behind our hedge.
I darted from my room, dashed up the hall, and tripped down the stair treads.
Sookie shouted out, “Son, you’re wearing out my pavement. The county ain’t gonna be none too pleased when they gotta repour my sidewalk because of your pacing back and forth.
Sook snickered. “Boy, you ain’t hiding from no one.”
Jackson slowly rose, reappearing over the top of the hedge. He nervously waved to Sook.
“Are you comin’ up to the house or ain’t you?”
I hid behind the door and whispered, “Please, I don’t wanna talk to him. Tell him I’m gone, Sook.”
She hollered out, “I’m certain Poppy will be pleased to see you’ve come by. Come on up, Mr. Jackson.”
“Sookie, please!” I pleaded. “I just can’t! I don’t wanna talk to him now. He must be so angry with me.”
Sook shook her head. “I warned you about that little red-haired demon-child. She’s nothin’ but trouble!”
“Not now, Sookie.”
“If Mr. Jackson has a bone to pick with you, he had best remember you are a respectable young lady. You hear me? He must treat you with the utmost respect that any young lady deserves.”
“Thanks, Sookie.” I grinned. “I reckon I gotta clean up the mess I’ve made.”
She squared my shoulders with hers. “Just take a moment, child, to right yourself.”
Jackson fought with the gate latch and walked with a direct gait up the path. His sneakers were untied, and his straw-colored hair was untamed by a brush. He skipped the treads of the porch steps and rapped his knuckles on the front door.
“Well, good evenin’, Mr. Taylor.”
“Evenin’, Miss Wainwright. Is Poppy here?”
“Yessum. She is, but…”
I walked from behind the door. “Hello, Jackson.”
“Good evenin’, Poppy.” He nodded his head but couldn’t meet me eyes. “May I speak with you?”
“Yessum.”
Sookie wore a concerned expression. “Poppy, I’ll be right in the kitchen.”
I walked on to the porch, where Jackson had taken a seat on the swing. He gestured for me to join him. “Come sit for a spell.” Patting the wooden seat next to him, he smiled.
As soon as I sat near his side, I began pleading my case. “I reckon you’re boiling mad at me, and you have every right to be. If I ever believed that you and I were…” I stuttered, “Jackson, it wasn’t never my intention to hurt you.”
“Poppy, you never—”
“I know none of this makes a lick of sense, but for someone like me, having a boy like you come a calling was…” I stopped myself, turning my eyes to the floor. I wanted to run, escape all the way back to Mountain Home, and find my grandma Lainey in her rocker, waiting on my return. “I just never thought this would happen. Jackson, I never wanted to bring shame on you.”
“I ain’t ashamed of nothin’, Poppy. I told my momma ’bout this whole dust up, and she said it’s a dishonest thing you’ve done.”
“I swear, Jackson,” I said, “everything happened so fast.”
“Poppy, I need you to be quiet for a spell.” He folded his hand over mine.
“Yessum,” I agreed with
a nod.
“My momma said that it’s a dishonest thing you’ve gone and done. She believes it was wrong as wrong can be. But then she asked me if I thought it was your intention to hurt me.” Jackson’s hand still rested on mine. “I told my momma, Never! Poppy Wainwright wouldn’t ever do such a thing.” With his untied sneaker, Jackson gave a push, and the swing started a slow, slight rocking. “Poppy, I’m not the sort of fella who hankers for another fella, but I’ve been thinkin’ hard, and I wanted you to know how I’ve come down on this matter.”
Jackson wore a pleasant expression. His gentle eyes were the color of the greenest meadow. But, all at once, I wanted to cover my face to shield Jackson from seeing me overcome.
He took my head in his hands. “Poppy, don’t you cry a single tear. Don’t you do it!”
“I won’t,” I said. “I promise, I won’t.”
“You see, I’m just not the sort of fellow who’s lookin to settle down with another fella.” Jackson cleared a lump from his throat. “I’m not castin’ no aspersions, but if I was that sort of fellow, I’d choose you, Poppy. I’d always choose you.”
“Jackson, what if it was just you and me?” I asked. But my useless words floated from my lips, lighter than a leaf carried on a breeze. Like my hopes for us, they lifted from the porch and were lost in the warm night.
Jackson never answered.
I looked to him. “I truly appreciate you comin’ here. It was dead wrong what I did, and you’ve been nothin’ but kind to me. I’m as sorry as I can be.”
I felt awkward and stupid and small.
“Poppy, I swear, if you were my girl…” He stopped himself, stood from the swing, and dug his hands deep in his pockets.
The silence widened until no words could bridge the distance.
“I’d best go now,” he said.
Jackson walked the path to the front gate and waited for the longest while before stepping onto the sidewalk.
I wanted him to turn around. I wanted to tell Jackson that I’d be anyone he needed me to be, if only he’d stay. But he took off sprinting up Digby.
Aunt Sookie & Me Page 27