Tallahassee Higgins

by Mary Downing Hahn

  "You know what?" I glared at Jane. "I don't even care anymore! I'm beginning to think Aunt Thelma is right about her. Look at the way she treated Johnny and Roger. And now me, her own daughter!"

  "Oh, Talley." Jane cupped her chin in her hands and said nothing while I gave Fritzi a puppy bone and patted his hard little head. She looked so sad, you'd have thought her mother was missing, too.

  "We'd better go," I said. "It's ten of nine."

  On the way to school I told Jane the Greyhound bus company was going to send us a refund, but even the prospect of getting her money back didn't cheer her up. She plodded silently beside me, her head down, kicking at stones.

  When we reached the edge of the playground, though, Jane turned to me, smiling. "I figured it all out," she said. "Liz is coming to get you! She wants to surprise you!"

  I stared at Jane, astonished. I hadn't even thought of that. "Do you really think so?"

  "Of course! Maybe she'll be waiting for you when you get home from school this very afternoon!" Jane clapped her hands and laughed. "Oh, Talley, wouldn't that be neat?"

  All day in school I thought about Jane's theory. Mrs. Duffy had to call on me twice in math to get my attention, and even then I didn't know the answer. When the dismissal bell rang, I still hadn't convinced myself that Liz was on her way back to Maryland. No matter what Jane thought, I had a feeling that Liz was gone forever.

  ***

  On Saturday Jane had her usual date with the orthodontist. Even though I wasn't sure Mrs. Russell would want to see me again, I rode my bicycle up Forty-first Avenue, hoping Bo would be in the yard. He still liked me, I was sure of that.

  As I pedaled past her house, I saw Mrs. Russell tending her garden. She was wearing a round, straw hat and an apron over her dress. In her hand was a big tin watering can like Farmer McGregor's.

  Although she didn't see me, Bo did. He ran to the fence, barking and wagging his tail, and I stopped to pet him. While I had my head bent over his, I saw Mrs. Russell's tennis shoes striding across the grass toward me.

  "Are you here to walk Bo, Tallahassee?" she asked.

  Without looking up from Bo, I nodded. "If you still want me to."

  "Why wouldn't I want you to?"

  Her voice was no cooler than usual, so I glanced up at her. She was just standing there, a trowel in one hand, the watering can in the other, staring down at me. A tiny frown creased her forehead.

  "I thought you might be mad at me." I returned my attention to Bo, who was trying to lick my nose.

  "Because of last week?" Mrs. Russell touched my hair lightly. "I think I'm the one who owes you an apology, Tallahassee, but we'll talk more about that later. First take Bo for his walk. He needs a good run, dear."

  I jumped the fence and followed her toward the house, my heart thumping. I was so happy, I felt like turning cartwheels across the lawn. She wasn't mad at me, she wasn't mad!

  Snapping the leash to Bo's collar, I led him down the walk and up the hill to the park. We had a wonderful time, but I brought him home even muddier than he'd been last Saturday. He was so dirty, Mrs. Russell and I had to hose his legs and paws before he could go inside.

  "We'll have lemonade on the screened porch," Mrs. Russell said, leading me through a side door. We seated ourselves at a little table covered with a checked cloth, and she poured us each a tall glass of lemonade from a pitcher.

  After passing me a plate heaped with chocolate chip cookies, Mrs. Russell opened a photo album and showed me a picture of a boy with red hair, freckles, and big teeth.

  "I've been doing a lot of thinking, Tallahassee," she said. "This is Johnny when he was your age. As you can see, you look very much like him." She paused briefly. "That could be merely a coincidence, of course. But I think, considering the facts as we know them, he might very well have been your father."

  I looked at Mrs. Russell, scarcely daring to breathe. "Then you would be my grandmother," I whispered.

  She smiled and nodded. "But we'll never know for sure. Unless Liz tells us."

  She sipped her lemonade. "You see, I didn't know Liz had a child. You came as a complete surprise to me." She gazed past me at the sunny yard. "I'm sure Johnny never knew, either."

  "Are you sure he's dead?" I had been flipping through the album, going back to pictures of Johnny as a baby, and then ahead to the last picture of him as a soldier, his red hair cut so short he was almost bald. "He couldn't be a prisoner over there somewhere?"

  "Johnny was killed at the end of the war," Mrs. Russell said. "In a helicopter crash. He's buried here in Hyattsdale in Saint Phillip's Churchyard. Perhaps you and I could visit his grave one day, Tallahassee. I often take flowers from the garden, the ones he loved best. Marigolds, zinnias." Her voice trailed off, and we sat in silence, listening to a blue jay scolding from the dogwood tree in the backyard.

  I turned back to the album, studying each page from beginning to end, watching Johnny grow from a baby to a man. He looked so happy in all the pictures, laughing and smiling, clowning around. It wasn't fair that he had gone off to a war and died so far away.

  "You must miss him very much." I felt a big tear well up in one eye and splat down on the table cloth.

  "Yes," she said. "It was a horrible war. My husband and I were very opposed to it, but when Johnny was drafted, he said he had to go." She paused and gazed at the picture of Johnny in his uniform.

  "He was never afraid of anything," she said softly. "He told us not to worry, he'd be back home in no time."

  I jumped up and ran to her side. Putting my arms around her, I hugged her hard. "But I'm here now," I whispered. "And I'll keep you company. Me and Bo."

  Mrs. Russell's arms tightened around me. "I think I'll enjoy having a granddaughter, Tallahassee Higgins," she whispered.

  ***

  While we were washing our glasses, Mrs. Russell said, "You must miss Liz."

  "Not as much as I used to." I rubbed my glass hard with the dish towel, making it shine. "I haven't heard from her for so long. Right now I don't even know where she is, Mrs. Russell. Or if she's ever coming back. Sometimes I'm scared something awful has happened to her and other times I'm so mad at her that I don't even care."

  I blinked to keep from crying. "I don't know what's the matter with me."

  Mrs. Russell sighed and shook her head. "It's very difficult to understand someone like Liz. She's a complex person, Tallahassee. For instance, I've never understood why she ditched Johnny. He was crazy about her, and it almost broke his heart when she ran off."

  She paused to let the water out of the sink. As it gurgled down the drain, she turned to me. "You know the way the sun bounces off something shiny and you see a little circle of light skipping around on the wall?"

  "Like this?" I turned my spoon toward a square of sunshine on the counter and sent its reflection dancing across the ceiling.

  "Well, you know you can't catch it," she said. "You can't hold on to it no matter how pretty it is."

  I tried to cover the circle of light with my hand, but, of course, the second I moved the spoon, away the circle bounced.

  "That's the way Liz is," Mrs. Russell said. "You can't hold on to her, you can't pin her down. All you can do is watch her dance away from you and hope she comes dancing back."

  I shoved the spoon out of the sunlight. "But what's going to happen to me if she doesn't come back?"

  "You're going to stay right here with your uncle and aunt," Mrs. Russell said. "And you're going to come see me as often as you like and give Bo wonderful, long runs in the park."

  She put her arm around me again and gave me a big hug that almost squeezed the breath out of me. At the same time Bo jumped up and licked my nose. At that moment Hyattsdale didn't seem like such an awful place after all.

  Chapter 22

  ONE HOT DAY early in June, I came trailing home from school. It was Wednesday, so Jane was taking piano lessons and I was all by myself, thinking about what Mrs. Duffy had just told me. I was going to pass sixth g
rade, she said, but certainly not with honors. I was still doing very poorly in math, but at least I had turned in my homework and written a good report on Maryland history.

  "If you would only pay attention in class," Mrs. Duffy had said as I was leaving. "This morning, for instance, I had to call on you three times in social studies. When I finally got your attention, you didn't even know what page we were on."

  Although I didn't tell Mrs. Duffy, I wasn't interested in the imports and exports of South America. Instead of studying the map of Bolivia in our book, I'd been thinking about taking Bo to the park. I'd found a nice clearing in the woods where I could let him off the leash and throw sticks for him. While Bo dashed around, I liked to pretend it was our own special enchanted forest, a place where anything could happen.

  In my favorite daydream I found Johnny there, not dead after all. He'd tell me it had all been a mistake, somebody else's body was buried under that shiny pink stone in Saint Phillip's Churchyard. Then he would do a back flip and walk around the clearing on his hands, his long, red hair shining in the sunlight, while I cartwheeled after him.

  At that moment Liz would appear. The two of them would rush into each other arms like a couple in a perfume commercial. Then the three of us would walk hand in hand (me in the middle) back to Mrs. Russell's house, with Bo leading the way. That was the best part—imagining the expression on Mrs. Russell's face when she saw Johnny.

  Of course I knew Johnny would never come back. I'd never see him or hear him laugh, and we would never do gymnastics together. He had been in Vietnam before I was even born, and nothing on this earth would change that. But, still, it was more fun to think about the enchanted forest than to memorize the imports and exports of Bolivia.

  As I turned the corner onto Oglethorpe, lost in my own thoughts, I noticed someone sitting on Uncle Dan's porch steps. Although her head was turned away from me, I knew at once who it was.

  For a couple of seconds I stood still, my heart pumping as if I'd just run a mile. I had imagined this moment so often, I wasn't sure she was really there, and I wanted to look and look and look, just in case she was going to vanish the moment somebody interrupted my daydream. Then she turned her head and saw me.

  "Liz!" I cried, "Liz!"

  "Tallahassee!" Liz leapt to her feet and ran to meet me.

  Then we were in each other's arms, and I didn't know where I stopped and she started. "Liz, Liz!" I burrowed into her. "I thought you were never coming back! I was scared you were gone forever!"

  "You know I'd never leave you!" Pulling away, she looked at me. "Hey, let's see a big smile!"

  I tried, but my mouth was all shaky. "Are you going to stay?" I clung to her, my mother, my Liz, the most beautiful mother in the world.

  "You look great, honey. Thelma must be feeding you growth tablets or something." She tried to hold me at arm's length to see me better. "Has she been nice to you?"

  "Not at first, but she's all right now most of the time."

  "And Dan? I know he must be crazy about you."

  "He's great, Liz. He fixed up your old bike for me to ride. He even painted it, so it looks almost new."

  "That old clunker? It didn't even have gears." Liz laughed.

  "It rides real good, Liz. You want to see?"

  "No, no." She laughed and sat back down, flipping her hair over her shoulders. "I came to see you, not an old bicycle."

  As I snuggled close to her, she shifted away from me a little. "What are you trying to do, Talley? Sit in my lap?"

  I blushed and let her put some distance between us. I'd forgotten how she felt about too much hugging and kissing. "Where have you been all this time?" I stared at her. "Why didn't you write me or call me? I've been so worried about you!"

  "Oh, I've been just awful, haven't I, Talley?" She smiled at me like a little kid asking to be forgiven. "You must think I'm the most terrible mother in the world."

  I shook my head so vigorously my hair flew out in all directions. "Of course I don't think that! You're the best mother, the very best in the whole wide world."

  Liz tossed her head and laughed. "You sure are sweet, honey." She glanced over her shoulder at the house. "I've been sitting here at least an hour listening to that stupid dog bark. Does he always carry on like that? Or is it just me he doesn't like?"

  I looked at Fritzi dancing up and down in the window. It was a wonder he didn't have laryngitis by now. "He's very excitable. Aunt Thelma says all little dogs are high-strung or something. That's why they bark so much."

  "I bet Thelma trained him to be obnoxious. It's just the kind of thing she'd do," Liz said. "That dog even looks like her."

  "He's not so bad once he gets to know you. He used to bark and growl at me all the time, but now he likes me. He only acts mean if I walk too close to his food dish. He doesn't want anybody near him when he's eating."

  Liz lit a cigarette and exhaled slowly. "I never did care for little dogs," she said.

  I waved the smoke away from my face. "Haven't you quit smoking yet? You know it's bad for you." I grabbed her upper arm. "And look how skinny you are. I bet you haven't been eating right."

  "Who's the mother—you or me?" Liz laughed and pulled her arm away.

  "Where's Bob?" I glanced at the empty street, thinking I might have overlooked his motorcycle.

  Liz shrugged. "Oh, we split in California. As far as I know, he's still hanging out with those dumb friends of his. I was really wrong about him, Tallahassee."

  She flicked an ash off her cigarette and surveyed the neighborhood. "Nothing has changed a bit here, you know that? I've been gone twelve years, and everything is exactly the same."

  I looked at the street, softened now by the green leaves. Ever since I'd sat down beside her, I'd wanted to ask Liz about Johnny, but I hadn't had the courage to mention his name. She was the one person who could tell me what I wanted to know. Suppose her answer wasn't the one I wanted to hear?

  While I watched Liz puffing away on her cigarette, I decided to ask her if she remembered Jane's mother. Then maybe I'd have the nerve to mention Johnny. "Do you remember Linda DeFlores?" I asked timidly. "She still lives in the house behind us."

  Liz looked puzzled. "Do you mean Linda Barnes?"

  "Her name's DeFlores now." I frowned. "She says she used to know you."

  "Linda married Bud DeFlores? With me out of the picture, I thought she'd marry good old Johnny Russell," Liz said.

  "Johnny Russell?" I stared at Liz.

  "Don't tell me you know him, too." She shook her head. "Lord, didn't anybody leave this place?"

  Next door, Mr. Jenkins was running his power mower. The noise was making my head boom, and I couldn't think straight. "Johnny's dead," I blurted out, feeling my eyes fill with tears. "He was killed in Vietnam. Didn't you know that?"

  Liz choked on her cigarette smoke and turned to me, her eyes wide. "Oh, my God," she whispered. "Oh, my God, no, Tallahassee." Hugging herself with her arms, she leaned forward, her hair hiding her face. "Nobody told me," she whispered. "Nobody told me!"

  With her head on her knees she wept, her shoulders shaking. Timidly, I patted her back and stroked her hair, but she shrugged me away as if I were a gnat or something. I knew all the Fred and Ginger routines in the world wouldn't make her stop crying.

  "I told him to burn his draft card," she said, "or go to Canada! Why didn't he listen to me?"

  "Mrs. Russell said he wanted to go," I said. "She tried to make him go to Canada, too, but he wasn't scared of anything."

  Liz shook her head. "When he got drafted, he laughed. He thought it would be a big adventure. I couldn't believe he was so stupid!" She buried her face in her hands. "I never even told him good-bye, I was so mad at him."

  "Is that why you went to Florida? Because Johnny was going in the army?"

  "That was part of it. I didn't want to see him when he came home from boot camp with all his hair cut off, wearing a uniform. It was against everything I believed in. Johnny a soldier!" She wiped he
r eyes with her fists. "How could he have gone over there?"

  "Liz," I touched her bare arm. "I have to know something." My voice was shaking and my arms felt weak, but if I didn't ask now, I never would.

  She looked at me, her eyes still full of tears. Then she turned her attention to the polish on her toenails, picking at a place where it was chipping.

  "Was Johnny my father?"

  While I waited for her to answer, Mr. Jenkins roared up and down the patch of lawn between his house and ours, filling the air with the sweet smell of cut grass. "Was he?" I felt my voice rising. "Was he?"

  "You look just like him," she said. "You always have."

  "But is he my father?"

  "Yes," Liz whispered, "yes, and I'm sorry he's dead, Tallahassee. He would've loved you, he really would have. He was always crazy about little kids."

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "What was the point? I didn't want any ties to Johnny, I didn't want to marry him or anything." She wiped her eyes again and lit another cigarette. "I wanted you to be all mine, my very own little baby. Just you and me forever like Peter Pan and Tinkerbell or something. Not that it would have made any difference, the way things turned out."

  For a long time neither of us said a word. Fritzi had stopped barking, Mr. Jenkins had finished cutting his lawn, and the only sounds were the birds and the distant whoosh of traffic on Route One.

  "Do the Russells still live here?" Liz asked finally. She had stopped crying, but she was pale under her tan, and her makeup was streaked.

  "Mr. Russell died a long time ago, but Mrs. Russell is fine. She lets me play with her dog. You know, take him for walks and things. She likes me."

  "Does she know that Johnny is your father?"

  "She thinks he must have been. So I've been kind of like her granddaughter."

  "I bet she hates me." Liz frowned, and I noticed the tiny lines on her face again.

  "No, she doesn't," I said, "but I don't think Mrs. DeFlores likes you very much."