"I don't intend to spend weeks mourning and wearing black," she declared. "Sadness ages you and it doesn't bring back the dead. Besides, I can't wear this black thing to work, can I?"
"When are you going back to work, Mommy?" I asked, surprised. With Daddy's death, I thought the world would stop turning. How could our lives go on?
"Tomorrow," she said. "I don't have much choice. We don't have anyone supporting us anymore, do we? Not that it was much support anyway," she mumbled.
"Should I go right back to school?" I asked more out of anger than a desire to return.
"Of course. What are you going to do around here all day? You'll go crazy looking at these four walls."
She wasn't wrong, but somehow it didn't seem right to simply go on with our lives as if Daddy hadn't died. I would never hear his laughter or see him smile again. How could the sky ever be blue or anything taste sweet or feel good? I would never again care about getting hundreds on tests or parading my newfound knowledge. Daddy was the only one who cared, who was proud of me anyway. Mommy gave me the feeling she felt education was frivolous for a girl. She believed once a girl was old enough to catch a man, nothing else mattered.
Walking home from the cemetery with Alice, I felt my heart had turned into one of those large chunks of coal Daddy used to hack out of the walls hundreds of feet below the earth: the coal that had killed him. Alice and I barely spoke while we hurried toward the trailer park. We had to keep our heads bowed because the snowflakes were streaming down from the gray sky and into our eyes.
"Are you all right?" Alice asked. I nodded. "Maybe we should have gone in Archie Marlin's car, too," she added mournfully. The wind howled. It screamed.
"I'd rather walk in a storm ten times worse than get in his car," I said vehemently.
When we entered Mineral Acres, we saw Archie Marlin's car parked at our trailer. And then, as we drew closer, we heard the sound of my mother's laughter.
Alice looked embarrassed. "Maybe I should go home."
"I wish you wouldn't," I said. "We'll go into my room and close the door."
"Okay."
When I opened the door, we found Mommy sitting at the dinette with Archie. A bottle of gin sat on the table with some mixers and ice.
"Happy now that you froze your feet walking?" Mommy asked. She had already taken off the black dress and wore a blue silk robe. Her hair was down around her shoulders. She had put on more lipstick.
"I needed the walk," I said. Archie looked at Alice and me with a grin.
"There's water on the stove if you want some tea or hot chocolate," Mommy said.
"I don't want anything right now, thank you." "Maybe Alice wants something."
"No thanks, Mrs. Logan."
"You can tell your mother everything's clean in my house," Mommy snapped. Alice was nonplussed.
"She didn't say it wasn't, Mommy."
"No, really, Mrs. Logan, I--"
"It's okay," Mommy said with a tiny ripple of nervous laughter. Archie smiled and poured two more drinks. "We're going to my room," I said.
"Maybe you should have gone to the wake, Melody. I don't have anything for dinner, you know."
"I'm not hungry," I said. I marched down the short corridor to my room, Alice trailing behind. After I closed the door, I threw myself on the bed and buried my face in the pillow to smother the anger building in my chest as much as my sobs.
Alice sat on the bed, too frightened and amazed to speak. A moment later we heard Mommy turn on the radio and find a station with lively music.
"She's just doing that because she can't stand crying anymore," I explained. Alice nodded, but I saw she was uncomfortable. "She says I should go right back to school."
"Are you? You should," she added, nodding.
"It's easy for you to say. Your daddy's not dead." I regretted saying it immediately. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."
"It's all right."
"I know if I live like nothing happened, I won't feel so sick inside. Only, what will I do when it's time for Daddy to be coming home from the mine? I know I'll just stand out there watching the road every day, expecting him to come walking over the hill as usual."
Alice's eyes filled with tears.
"I keep thinking if I stand there long enough and concentrate and hope hard enough, all this will never have happened. It will just seem to be a bad dream."
"Nothing will bring him back, Melody," Alice said sadly. "His soul has gone to heaven."
"Why did God put him in heaven?" I demanded, pounding my small fists on my thighs. "Why was I even born if I can't have a Daddy when I need him the most? I'm never going back to that church!" I vowed.
"It's silly to think you can hurt God back," Alice said.
"I don't care."
The look on her face said she didn't think I meant what I was saying.
But I did mean it, as much as I could mean anything. I took a deep breath, the futility of my outbursts and anger washing over me. "I don't know how we will go on without him. I'll have to quit school maybe and go to work."
"You can't do that!"
"I might have to. Mommy doesn't make very much money working in the beauty parlor."
Alice thought a moment.
"There's the miner's pension and social security, too."
"Mammy said it won't be enough."
We heard a loud outburst of laughter come from both Mommy and Archie Marlin.
Alice grimaced. "My father doesn't know how Archie Marlin keeps out of jail. Daddy says he waters the whiskey in the bar."
"Mommy's just trying not to be sad," I said. "She'd entertain anyone right now. He just happens to be around."
Alice nodded, unconvinced.
I picked up my fiddle and plucked at the strings. "Daddy loved to hear me play," I said smiling, remembering.
"You play better than anyone I know," Alice declared.
"Well I'll never play again." I threw the fiddle on the bed.
"Of course you will. Your daddy wouldn't want you to give it up, would he?"
I thought about it. She was right, but I wasn't in the mood to agree with anything anyone said right now.
Another peal of laughter from Archie Marlin reached our ears.
"The walls of this trailer are made of cardboard," I said. I put my hands over my ears.
"You're welcome to come to my house," Alice said. "My brother's the only one home."
Alice lived in one of the nicest homes in Sewell. Ordinarily, I loved going there, but right now I felt it was a sin to do anything enjoyable.
Suddenly we heard Mommy and Archie singing along with a song on the radio, followed by their laughter again.
I stood up and reached for my coat. "Okay. Let's get out of here."
Alice nodded and followed me out of my room and down the short corridor. Mommy was sprawled on the sofa now and Archie was standing at her feet, holding his drink in his hand. They didn't speak, then Archie reached to turn down the volume on the radio.
"I'm going to Alice's house."
"Good idea, honey. Daddy wouldn't want you moping around the trailer."
I wanted to say he wouldn't want you laughing and singing and drinking with Archie Marlin either, but I swallowed my words and pounded my feet over the thin rug to the front door.
"Don't be late," Mommy called after me.
I didn't reply. Alice and I walked away from the trailer, the radio music turned up behind us again. Neither of us spoke until we rounded the turn toward Hickory Hill. The Morgans lived at the top and from their living room and dining room windows could look down on the valley and Sewell proper.
Alice's mother was very proud of their home, which she told me on more than one occasion was a colonial revival, a house with historical architecture. It had two stories and a front porch. They had an attached garage. The house had twelve rooms. The living room looked as big as our entire trailer. Alice's room was certainly twice the size of mine, and her brother Tommy's room was even bigger. The one tim
e I looked in at the master bedroom with its own bathroom, I thought I had entered a palace.
Tommy was in the kitchen when we entered the house. He sat on a stool, smearing peanut butter on a piece of bread and holding the phone receiver between his ear and shoulder. The moment he saw me, his eyes widened and his eyebrows lifted.
"I'll call you back, Tina," he said and cradled the receiver. "I'm sorry about what happened to your father. He was a really nice guy."
"Thank you."
He looked at Alice for an explanation of what we were doing, why she had brought me to their house. Everyone was making me feel as though I carried a disease. No one wanted to be directly confronted with sorrow as deep as mine.
"We're going up to my room," Alice told him.
He nodded. "Would you like something to eat? I'm just having a snack."
I hadn't really had anything substantial to eat for days and my stomach bubbled at the suggestion. "Maybe I should eat something."
"I'll make us some sandwiches and bring them up to my room," Alice said.
"Mother doesn't like you to have food in your room, Alice," Tommy reminded her.
"She'll make an exception this time," Alice retorted. Her older brother retreated from the fury of her eyes and her stern expression.
"I don't want to make any trouble," I said softly.
"I guess it will be all right as long as you don't make a mess," Tommy relented. "How's your mother doing?"
"She's doing fine," I said hesitantly. He nodded, gazed at Alice who continued to glare at him defiantly, and then he took a bite of his sandwich.
"Let's go up to my room, first," Alice suggested, pivoting and taking my hand. I followed.
We went quickly up the carpeted, winding stairway to her room.
"Sorry my brother is such a dork," she said. "We're always fighting because he's so bossy. You can lie down if you want," she said nodding at her fluffy pillows and comforter on her queen size bed. It had pink posts and a frilly light pink canopy. The headboard was shaped like a Valentine heart. I dreamed of having a bed like this instead of the simple mattress and box springs I had now.
I took off my coat and sat on the bed.
"I thought Bobby Lockwood was going to come to your house," Alice said.
"I knew he wouldn't. He looked terrified at church and at the cemetery," I said.
"I know you like him, but I don't think he's that mature," Alice remarked.
"No one's very mature when it comes to this sort of thing. I don't blame him for running away from me."
"If he really liked you, he would want to be with you, to help you."
I knew Alice hated whenever I had a boyfriend because it took me away from her.
"Right now, I don't care very much about boys," I said.
She nodded, pleased.
"I'll run down and make us some sandwiches and bring them up with milk, okay?"
"Don't get in trouble on my account."
"I won't. Just rest or read something or turn on the television set, if you want. Do anything you want," she offered.
"Thanks."
After she left, I did lie back and close my eyes. I should be with Mommy now and she should want to be with me, not Archie Marlin. She'll be sorry when he leaves and she's all alone in the trailer, I thought, and then I decided I wouldn't stay away that long. I kept hearing Daddy explaining her actions, cajoling me to understand her weaknesses. He always felt more sorry for her than he felt for himself. I was sure he was doing the same thing right now, even though it was he and not she who was shut up in a coffin.
I wondered how long it would be before my friends would stop looking at me strangely. It would be so hard to return to school, I thought: all those pitying eyes aimed at me. I imagined even my teachers would gaze at me sorrowfully and speak to me in softer, sadder tones.
Maybe Mommy was right: maybe it was better to pretend nothing had happened. That way other people weren't so uncomfortable in your presence. But wasn't that like slapping Daddy's memory in the face? Some-how, I had to find a way to keep my sorrow private and go on with my life, as empty as it now seemed to be.
If I had a brother like Alice had, I wouldn't be fighting with him all the time, I thought. Right now, a brother would come in pretty handy. He would help with Mommy and we would have each other to comfort. If he were older than I was, I was sure he would be like Daddy. I resented Mommy for being too weak and too selfish to have another baby. She didn't have to have a litter, but she might have considered my need for a companion.
I must have been a lot more tired than I realized, for I didn't hear Alice return. She placed the sandwiches and the milk on the night table beside the bed and sat reading our history assignment while she waited for me to open my eyes. It was twilight by the time I did. The lamp was on.
"What happened?" I asked, scrubbing my cheeks with my palms and sitting up.
"You fell asleep and I didn't want to wake you. The milk's a little warm, but the sandwich is all right." "Oh. I'm sorry."
"Go ahead. Eat something. You need it, Melody."
I saw from the empty plate beside her and the empty glass, she had already eaten her snack. I took a deep breath and bit into the sandwich. I was afraid what my stomach might do once solid food dropped into it again. It bubbled and- churned, but the sandwich tasted good, and I finished quickly.
"You were hungry."
"I guess so. Thanks. What time is it?" I gazed at the small grandfather clock on her dresser. "Oh. I better get home."
"You don't have to go. If you want, you could even sleep here tonight."
"No. I should go home," I insisted. "My mother needs me. I'm sorry I wasn't much company."
"That's okay. Are you going to school tomorrow?" "No. I'm not. I'm staying home at least one day," I said firmly.
"I'll bring you all the homework and tell you what we did."
"Thanks." I paused and smiled at her. "Thanks for being my best friend, Alice."
It brought tears to her eyes and she flashed a smile back at me. Then she followed me down the stairs. Her house was so quiet.
"My parents are showering and getting dressed for dinner," she explained. "They always do that after they come home from work. Dinner is very formal in my house."
"That's nice," I said pausing at the front door to gaze back at her beautiful home. "It's nice to sit at the table like a family and all be together. You're lucky."
"No, I'm not," she said sharply and I opened my eyes wide. "We're rich, maybe, and I get the best marks in school, but you're the lucky one."
"What?" I almost laughed. Of all days, to say such a thing, I thought.
"You're the prettiest girl in school and everyone likes you and someday, you'll be happier than anyone."
I shook my head as if she had just said the dumbest thing, but she didn't soften her determined expression.
"You will."
"Alice," we heard coming from upstairs. It was her mother. "Did you bring food upstairs?"
"I'd better go," I said quickly. "Thanks."
"See you tomorrow," she mumbled, and closed the door. Somehow, I don't know how, I left feeling more sorry for her than I did for myself.
When I returned to the trailer, Archie Marlin's car was gone. It was dark inside with only a small lamp on in the living room. The glasses and nearly empty bottle of gin were still on the coffee table. I gazed around, listened, and then walked softly down the corridor to Mommy's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar so I peeked through the opening and saw her sprawled on her stomach. Her robe was up around the backs of her knees and her arm dangled over the side of the bed.
I walked in and gazed at her face. She was breathing heavily through her mouth and was in a deep sleep. I covered her with the blanket and then left to clean up the trailer. Just before I was about to go to bed myself, there was a gentle knock on the door. It was Mama Arlene.
"How are you, honey?" she asked, coming in.
"I'm all right," I said. "Mommy's asle
ep."
"Good. I brought some of the food back from the wake for you to have." She put the covered plates in our refrigerator. "No sense letting this go to waste."
"Thank you."
She came over to me and took both my hands in hers. Mama Arlene was a small woman, an inch shorter than I, but according to Papa George, she had a backbone tempered with steel. Although diminutive, she still seemed able to hold everyone else's troubles on her shoulders.
"Times will be hard for a while, but just remember, we're right next door anytime you need us, Melody."
"Thank you," I said, my voice cracking, the tears burning under my eyelids.
"Get some sleep, sweetheart." She hugged me and I hugged her right back. It broke the dam of tears and I started to sob again.
"Sleep," she said softly. "That's the cure. That, and time."
I took a deep breath and went to my room. I heard her leave and then all was quiet. Off in the distance, the wail of a train whistle echoed through the valley. Some of the coal in those cars, I thought, might have been dug out by Daddy before he. . . before he. .
Some place up north, someone would shovel the coal into a stove and for a while, be warm. I shivered and wondered if I would ever be warm again.
I wondered if Mama Arlene was right about the power of time. In the days and weeks that passed, the ache in my heart became a numbness. But that ache was always resurrected when my mind went to Daddy or when I heard someone who sounded like him. Once, I even thought I saw him walking along the road. I hated going by the mine or looking at the other miners. The sight of them made my stomach tighten and sent pins into my heart.
Mommy never returned to the cemetery, but I did--almost every day for the first few weeks and then every other day or so after that. Everyone treated me differently at school for the first few days after I returned, but soon, my teachers spoke to me just the way they spoke to everyone else, and my friends began to stay at my side longer, talking to me more, and laughing around me.
Bobby Lockwood drifted away, however, and seemed interested in Helen Christopher, a ninth grader who looked more like an eleventh grader. Alice, who some-how managed to eavesdrop on conversations all day long, told me Helen was even more promiscuous than the infamous Beverly Marks. Alice predicted it was only a matter of time before she would be pregnant, too.
Melody Page 3
