"Why do we have to go with him?" I pursued.
She tightened her face and narrowed her eyes. "I like Archie, Melody. He makes me laugh and I'm tired of crying and complaining. I'm tired of people looking at me as if I were some sort of freak because my husband was killed in a mining accident.
"But not Archie." She sat down on the sofa and motioned for me to join her. I sat down next to her, but I was cautious. Then she pulled me into her arms for the first time since Daddy had died. She held me tightly and began to stroke my hair and slowly I began to relax. It felt so good to have my Mommy back. I'd missed her so much. "You'll like Archie once you get to know him. He's just the medicine I need and you need, honey." She paused, but kept caressing my hair. I hoped she would never stop. "The only thing," she added softly, "is after we leave Sewell, I don't want you to call him Archie anymore."
"Why not?"
"His real name is Richard. Archie is just a nickname."
"How come he can leave so quickly? He has a job," I said, hoping she wouldn't get mad and stop holding me. Perhaps he had been caught watering the whiskey as Alice's father thought.
"It's not the sort of a job a man like Arch. . . Richard wants for the rest of his life. So we made a decision. Now, Pumpkin, I want you to go pack, and remember, only two suitcases."
"But I'll have to leave so much behind," I protested.
"George and Arlene will look after it," she said. "And after we're settled somewhere nice, we'll have everything shipped to us."
"Mama Arlene," I muttered, realizing this meant I wouldn't see her anymore. "Did you tell her about this?"
"I was just going to do that," Mommy said, "but forcing me to stand here and talk, talk, talk, has cut down on my time. I have things to pack, too."
"But don't I have to tell the school and don't--"
"Will you stop all this chatter, Melody, and get packed! Everything will be just fine. We're not the first people to move, you know. Although, I bet you can count on one hand how many escaped this rattrap."
She smiled again and rushed off to her bedroom.
I just stood there, gazing around, still finding it hard to believe we were going to leave Sewell for good! What about going to Daddy's grave to say good-bye? And what about Alice and my other friends? I had to turn in my library books! What about our mail? And the bills we still owed--surely, we had to go to the bank. There was so much to do.
I put down my book bag and walked slowly down the short corridor. Mommy had her closet open and her clothes thrown on the bed. She stood in the center of the room, pondering.
"I hate to leave so much behind, but I'll get new things, won't I?" she decided.
"Mommy, please. Let's wait and do this right."
"Aren't you packing?" She turned to me angrily. "I'm warning you, Melody. When Archie arrives, we're going out that door," she threatened. "What you have packed, goes. What you haven't, stays. Understand?"
I swallowed down the lump in my throat and thought a moment. A suggestion born of desperation came to my mind.
"Maybe I should stay and live with Mama Arlene and Papa George until you find a new home for us, Mommy."
She shook her head. "I thought of that, but Papa George is sicker than ever and Mama Arlene has her hands full with him as it is. Besides, they are not really your family and can't be your legal guardians. It's too much responsibility for old, decrepit people to bear."
"They're not old and decrepit," I insisted.
"Melody, get your things into those suitcases!" Then her voice softened. "Don't make things harder than they have to be, honey. I'm depending on you to be a big girl. I'm a little frightened, too. Everyone's afraid when they start a new life. I need your support, Melody." She paused when I didn't move. "Besides, you know Daddy would want you to do what I ask," she said. "Wouldn't he?" She smiled. "Wouldn't he?"
"Yes," I reluctantly admitted.
I lowered my head and turned away. When I stepped into my small room and gazed about, I found myself confronted with an impossibility. There were so many precious mementos, especially things Daddy had bought me, like my first doll, and all the pictures. Those suitcases Mommy had set out for me were barely big enough to hold a tenth of my clothes, much less stuffed animals. And what about my fiddle?
"Ten minutes!" Mommy cried from her room.
I had ten minutes to decide what I would leave behind, maybe forever. I couldn't do it. I started to cry. "Melody! I don't hear you putting things into your suitcases," she called.
Slowly, I opened the dresser drawers and took out what I knew were necessities, my underthings, socks, some shoes and sneakers. Then I went to the closet and chose my skirts and blouses, two pairs of jeans, and some sweaters.
The suitcases filled up quickly, but I gathered as many of my photographs as I could and stuffed them under the clothes. Then I tried to squeeze in my first doll, my stuffed cat and Teddy bear, and some gifts from Daddy. Mommy came out and saw how full my suitcases were and how it was impossible to close them properly.
"You can't take all that," she said.
"Can't I have another suitcase?"
"No. Arch. . . Richard has his things, too, and I have to take four suitcases myself. I need my good clothes so I can look nice when I go for job interviews and auditions," she claimed. "I told you, we'll send for the rest."
"But I don't need much more. Maybe a small carton and--"
"Melody, if you can't decide what to leave here, I'll decide for you," she said and reached down to pluck the stuffed cat out of the suitcase.
"No!," I cried. "That was the last thing Daddy gave me!"
"Well, it's obviously either this or that Teddy bear or some of your clothes. Decide. You're a big girl now. You don't need toys," she snapped and threw the cat back onto the clothes in the suitcase.
I pressed the stuffed animals down and then I sat on the suitcase so it would close and managed to get the snaps to hold. The sides of the suitcases bulged and they were heavy, but I had gotten in the things I would positively not leave behind.
"You only need the one coat," Mommy instructed, "and the boots you're wearing. Don't forget your gloves."
"I'm taking my fiddle," I said.
"Your fiddle? Melody, please. That's a backwoods, mountain person's instrument."
"Daddy loved to hear me play."
"Well, he can't hear you now. You're not going to play it much where you'll be going, I'm sure. Maybe you'll learn how to play the guitar or--"
"I won't go if I have to leave the fiddle, Mommy." I folded my arms under my breasts and planted my back firmly against the wall. "I won't. I swear."
She sighed.
"I guess it will take time to get the shanty town out of you. Suit yourself." She marched down the corridor to finish packing up her cosmetics. I had forgotten my own toiletries and had to open one of the suitcases to get them in. I was still struggling to close it when Archie Marlin arrived.
He wore a brown sports jacket, a shirt and tie, and brown slacks. He looked a little better dressed than usual.
"Hi," he said, entering my room without knocking. "Almost ready?"
"No," I said mournfully.
It only made him smile. "I bet you're excited, huh?"
"No," I said, firmly this time.
"Scared, huh? Well, there's no need to be scared. I've been down this road before and there's nothing to fear." His voice was full of bravado.
"I'm not scared. I'm upset we're leaving so quickly."
"Best way to go is to just get up and go." He snapped his fingers. "Either you're a man of action or you're just a talker." He straightened his shoulders and pumped out his chest. I turned away so he wouldn't see the tears glistening in my eyes. "Haille!" he called.
"Oh, you're here, good." Mommy came into my room. "I'm just about packed. You can start loading the car, Richard."
He widened his eyes.
"She knows it's your real name and Archie's just a nickname," Mommy explained.
"O
h? Good. Never liked that nickname." Archie-Richard winked at me and went to get Mommy's bags. "Are you packed?" she asked me.
"The bags are full. I just have to get this one closed."
"No problem." Archie paused as he dragged Mommy's two largest bags over the floor. He left them a moment to sit on my suitcase, pressing the fasteners in and snapping them shut. "You need anything, Melody, you just ask," he told me. I snorted, hating the idea of asking him for anything.
"While we pack the car, why don't you go say good-bye to Mama Arlene?" Mommy said.
I lowered my head and put on my coat. Then I took my fiddle in its case and started for the door. Archie complained about how heavy Mommy's bags were. He struggled to get them down the steps behind me.
"Careful!" Mommy screamed. "Some of my nicest things are in those bags."
Daddy could have picked them up with just a couple of fingers, I thought.
I knocked on Mama Arlene's trailer door.
"Melody, honey, what's wrong?" She knew there was something the moment she looked at my face.
"Oh, Mama Arlene. We're going away. We're leaving Mineral Acres for good!" I rushed into her arms.
I told her everything quickly, including my suggestion I remain behind and live with her and Papa George. We hadn't even moved from the doorway before I had it all said.
"Oh," she said nodding. "So that's why she was asking me about George's condition. Well, come in a moment," she said.
"Where is Papa George?" I asked, not seeing him in his favorite oversized chair watching television and smoking. Before she could reply, I heard his heavy cough from their bedroom.
"He's a bit under the weather tonight," she said. "The doctor wanted him in the hospital, but you know Papa George. He wouldn't go. When did you say you were going?"
"Today! Right now!"
"Right now? But she never said . . . Right now?" The realization shocked her almost as much as it had me. Her small hands fluttered up to her throat like two little song birds. She shook her head in disbelief.
"She wants you to keep our things until we send for them," I explained.
"Of course. I'll take good care of everything. Oh Melody," she said, actual tears flowing from her eyes now. "We'll miss you. You're the grandchild we never had, the child we never had."
"I don't want to go," I wailed.
"You got to go with your mother, honey. She needs you."
"She doesn't need me," I said defiantly. "She has Archie Marlin:"
"Archie Marlin? Oh." She took on a look of disapproval and sadness, her eyes darkening.
"What's going on out there?" Papa George called from his bedroom.
"You better go say good-bye to him." The way Mama Arlene said it put an icicle in my chest, chilling my heart. I walked slowly to the bedroom doorway and gazed in.
Papa George looked tiny under his comforter. Only his head, crowned with that stark white hair, showed. He coughed violently for a few moments and spit into a metal tray at the side of the bed. Then, he took a deep breath and turned to me. "What are you women jabbering about?"
"We're going away, Papa George," I said.
"Who's going away?"
"Mommy and me. . . and for good," I said.
He stared, took another breath, coughed a bit and then pushed hard to get himself into a sitting position. "Where she taking you?"
"We're going to see my daddy's family. They live in Cape Cod."
The old man nodded. "Well, maybe that's best. Leaving on quick notice, though, ain't you?"
"Yes. I haven't said good-bye to any of my friends and I haven't been to the cemetery yet."
He thought a moment and then reached over to his night table drawer. He took something out and beckoned for me to come closer.
"I want you to have this," he said and handed me a gold-plated pocket watch. I had seen it once or twice before and knew that on the inside was the inscription, To George O'Neil, Ten tons of coal! "It still keeps good time," he said. When the watch was opened, it played one of Papa George's favorite tunes: "Beautiful Dreamer."
"I can't take that, Papa George. I know what it means to you."
"It will mean more to me to know Chester Logan's little girl has it now and forever," he said, urging me to take it. I reached out and clutched it in my hand. "This way, you won't be able to forget me."
"Oh Papa George, I can't ever forget you," I moaned and threw my arms around him. He felt so small, all skin and bones, and his hug was barely anything. I was shocked. It was as if he were wilting, disappearing right before my eyes.
He started to cough again and pushed me back so he could lower himself under the blanket. I waited for him to catch his breath.
"Send us postcards," he said.
"I will. I'll write every day."
He laughed. "A postcard now and then is all we need, Melody. And don't forget to play that fiddle. I didn't spend all that time teaching you for nothing."
"I won't."
"Good," he said. He closed his eyes. "Good."
Hot tears streamed down my cheeks. I felt as if my lungs would burst, the ache was that deep. I turned and saw Mama Arlene standing in the bedroom doorway, her tears falling just as hard and fast. She held out her arms and we hugged. Then she followed me out.
Mommy and Archie had finished loading his Chevy. He slammed the trunk closed and got behind the wheel. Mommy came over to Mama Arlene.
"I didn't know you meant you would be leaving this soon, Haille."
"It's just worked out that way, Arlene. I guess Melody already asked you to look after our remaining things, if you can."
"I'll keep an eye on the place, sure."
"Once we're settled, I'll see about getting what else we want. Where's George?"
"He's lying down," she said.
They exchanged a knowing glance that made me weak in the knees.
"Well, I'll call and I'll drop you a line now and then," Mommy proinised.
My mind was racing. There was too much to think about. "Mama Arlene. I'm going to leave my school books on the kitchen table. I'll call my friend Alice and she'll come by to get them and my library books, okay?" I asked.
"Of course, dear."
"Here's the keys to the trailer." Mommy handed them to Mama Arlene. She took them reluctantly. Her gaze went to me and her lips trembled.
"I better go put the books on the table, Mommy," I said.
"Hurry. We want to be on the road. We've a lot of distance to cover," she said. "Go on. I'll wait here with Arlene."
I ran back to the trailer and entered. For a moment I just stood there gazing around. Yes, it was a tiny place to live and our furniture was very ordinary. Yes, the rugs were worn, the curtains thin, the wallpaper faded. The faucets dripped and the sinks were stained with rust at the drains. The heat never worked right and in summer, the place was an oven. I had wished and wished to have a real house instead, but this had been home to me, and now I felt as if I were deserting a poor old friend.
Daddy and I had eaten thousands of meals at that small dinette. I had curled up in his arms a thousand times on that worn sofa while we watched television. I blew out candles on many birthday cakes here. In that corner we had decorated our small Christmas tree. Although the pile of gifts under it was never impressive, it was always exciting for me.
Good-bye trailer home, I thought. Good-bye to the sound of the rain's drum beat on the roof while I slept or studied or ate my meals. Good-bye to every creak and groan in the wind; to the funny moaning sound in the plumbing that brought laughter to Daddy and me dozens of times.
And how do I say good-bye to my small room, my small private world? Once, this was my special place and now I was looking in at it for the final time.
I bit down on my lower lip and pressed my palm against my heart, holding in the ache, and then I scooped up my school books and the library books and put them on the kitchen table.
Archie Marlin honked the car's horn. I glanced at everything one last time, pressing it for
ever into my memory. Archie honked again.
"Good-bye," I whispered to the only home I had ever known. I rushed out the front door, afraid that if I paused or looked back, I would never be able to leave.
"What took you so long?" Mommy complained, her head out the window.
I got into the back seat. It was half covered with some of Mommy's clothes. I put my fiddle on the car floor. "Be careful of my things," she said.
"Here we go." Archie pulled out of our lot. I pressed my face to the window. Mama Arlene stood in her doorway, small and sad, her hand frozen in good-bye. The tears blurred my vision and some of them ran down the glass. I sat back to catch my breath as Archie spun around the entrance to Mineral Acres and shot onto the road.
"We're stopping at the cemetery, aren't we, Mommy?" I asked.
"What? What for?"
"To say good-bye to Daddy," I replied, my voice filled with desperation.
"Oh, Melody. Can't we start this trip on a happy note?"
"I've got to say good-bye to Daddy!" I exclaimed.
"I've got to!" My voice was full of desperation. Archie looked at Mommy and she shook her head. "It's on the way out," he said.
"Well, I'm not going in with you," Mommy said. "I can't bear it."
Archie stopped at the entrance to the cemetery. Mommy said it would break her heart again to drive in. It reminded her too much of the funeral.
"We're only waiting five minutes, Melody," she told me.
"Are you sure you don't want to come, Mommy?" She stared at me a moment, her eyes looking genuinely sad. She gently shook her head.
"I said my good-bye some time ago, Melody. I had to or I couldn't go on with my life."
I opened the door and jumped out, running up the pathway past the monuments until I reached Daddy's stone. I walked up to it and threw my arms around it the way I used to throw them around him. I pressed my cheek to the hard granite and closed my eyes.
"Oh Daddy, we're going, but come back as often as I can. Mommy has to get away. She can't live here anymore.
"I know you would forgive her. You forgave her for everything," I said a little bitterly. "And I know you would tell me to be a help to her, but I can't help how I feel."
Melody Page 5
