The Forgiving Kind

by Donna Everhart

  His comment was as abrasive as the scraping of his chair as he slid it back.

  Mama said, “My word, Frank, the things you say. You’re gonna hurt Sonny’s feelings.”

  Frank said, “Aw, Vi, I don’t mean a thing by it, I’m just teasing.”

  His tone suggested a familiarity I didn’t like. He even winked at her, and she actually offered him a smile. I didn’t much like that either. Daddy used to tell her he loved that smile of hers, and here she was giving them away to somebody who didn’t deserve them, not a one. Mr. Fowler could easily get the wrong idea. My thoughts were interrupted when he focused in on Daniel, like sighting in on a target.

  He said, “Come on, sissy boy, we ain’t got time for your kind of fun and games.You got to work to earn that food you just ate.”

  I said, “But, he came to visit me.”

  Mr. Fowler sucked at something in his teeth, and with Mama there, his response was mild.

  “The way I see it, men spend time with men. Women spend time with women. Come to think of that, maybe he should stay behind here with y’all.”

  He slapped his knee as he laughed. Trent joined in until Mama gave him one of her evil-eyed looks and his snickering petered out.

  Her voice held a warning. “Frank.”

  “Aw! I’m just messing! Lordy, y’all got to lighten up! Come on now!”

  Ross said, “Hey, Daniel, you wanted to learn to drive that tractor didn’t you?”

  Mama said, “There you go, that’s good, Ross. You and Daniel go on and do that while Sonny helps me clean up in here.”

  Mr. Fowler didn’t look none too happy, but he conceded to Mama’s decision with a loud belch, and no apology, before he went down the hall to the bathroom. My brothers went out, and Daniel followed. Even though Ross had said not to discuss anything with Mama about Mr. Fowler, I wasn’t going to keep my mouth shut any longer. He was acting like he was all of a sudden in charge of everyone, like he was man of the house. We scraped leftover food from the plates into the scrap bucket we kept for the burn can, and I ruminated on how I would say what I wanted. Mama hummed as we cleared the table and filled the sink with hot soapy water. She was still too thin, fragile looking, yet she appeared to be so peaceful, I almost didn’t want to bother her.

  “Mama.”

  “Hm?”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.”

  I tried to get my thoughts straight, and finally blurted out, “What would you think if I said I didn’t like Mr. Fowler?”

  “I sort of guessed it already. You get a look when he’s around. You remind me of your daddy. He had a similar look as that, like he was hurting somewhere.”

  And here I thought I’d been doing pretty good hiding it.

  She said, “What is it you don’t like about him?”

  “Everything.”

  Mama actually laughed when I said that, and I could see why. My voice was so glum, so grim.

  She said, “I know it ain’t like working with your daddy. Frank’s not as patient, but in all fairness, Sonny, he bought that seed when he didn’t have to, he’s been here every day when he’s got his own crops to tend. I think things would be really different if we’d have had rain.”

  “Or, if I could’ve found water.”

  “Oh, honey. Don’t you go and carry that burden now. Ain’t nobody blaming you for that.”

  “Mr. Fowler is.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He said I wasted everyone’s time. That I was showing off.”

  “When did he say that?”

  “A little while ago. And, he’s mean to Daniel. I don’t like him calling him that name.”

  “I don’t like it either, but Frank’s got a different sense of humor. That’s all. I’ll speak to him about it.”

  I didn’t think that was a good idea. “Don’t Mama. It’s okay.”

  “No, I’ll speak to him. Everything will be fine. Here, take this out.”

  She handed me the scrap bucket to carry outside and dump. Outside I noticed Ross and Daniel moving around the tractor with Ross showing him what was what. Trent was already on Mr. Fowler’s tractor, straw hat clamped low on his head as he headed down the tractor path. There was a breeze coming out of the east, making the pines sway. I glanced at Daniel again, wanting to catch his attention. I held my arm up, waving it a little, only he wasn’t looking my way, and he wasn’t paying attention to what Ross was trying to show him either. Instead, he was staring at Trent with the same expression he’d get when he talked about going to California or New York one day. What I thought of as a thirsty look, longing for something out of reach, lasting until Trent was out of sight.

  He turned back to Ross who was coming from around the other side of the tractor and said, “Ain’t you listening to me?”

  Even from where I was, I could see he looked embarrassed.

  Mama came to the screen door and said, “Sonny?”

  “I’m coming.”

  I went up the steps slowly, looking back over my shoulder. Daniel climbed up on the tractor and Ross hopped up behind him, standing on a small metal piece, and reached over Daniel’s shoulder to start it. The engine chugged to life beneath him and Ross said something in his ear, then pointed at his foot. Daniel pushed on the gas, and the tractor backfired. He pressed on the gas again, and got to revving the engine like Ross or Trent would do, grinning the whole time.

  Mr. Fowler came out of the house, brushed by me, and hollered, “Hey! Y’all quit the fooling around now!”

  That was when I figured it out. Maybe Daniel wanted to be friends with Trent too, but I couldn’t imagine why, especially when Trent acted the way he did.

  Chapter 13

  Mama was at the sink, and while she washed, I dried and kept a lookout from the window. On occasion I’d see a brown swirl of dust float by as Ross drove the tractor up and down the rows with Daniel on the back. Minutes later he was back inside, wearing a coat of dust, and looking like he’d had enough.

  I finished wiping the last glass and said, “Come on, Daniel, I got to go to the field.”

  He probably wanted to practice some scenes, but with Mr. Fowler around, I had to chop cotton.

  Mama said, “Take some iced water with you.”

  She filled mason jars with ice first, then water from the tap. She wrapped each in a hand towel. She also put some brownies in wax paper and put them in a bag.

  “Daniel, will you be staying for supper?”

  He hesitated, and I could tell he wanted to.

  Mama leaned her hip against the counter, wiped her hair off her forehead, and said, “I’m fixing stew beef over rice, in case you were wondering.”

  Another one of Daniel’s favorites. She gave him a smile to go with her invitation.

  “Thank you, but I have to go home in a little while.”

  She said, “If you change your mind, I’ll have plenty.”

  Outside, I went to the toolshed and got a couple hoes. Luckily, Mr. Fowler was nowhere in sight. Daniel held the jars and the brownies as we made our way to a field, and I glanced at him a few times, realizing he was not prepared for this sort of work. I wore a long-sleeve shirt, my hat, and long pants. It seemed crazy to dress like that, but it was actually cooler ’cause it kept the sun’s rays from making my skin feel like it was under a broiler. But Daniel, he had on shorts, and a short-sleeve shirt, and Converse sneakers.

  Hesitant, I said, “Daniel?”

  “What?”

  “Maybe you should sit in the shade while I do this?”

  He turned to me with a look so ugly, so unlike himself I took a step back in surprise.

  I gasped, “What? What is it?”

  He spit the words out. “What do you think it is?”

  “I don’t know. I just said . . .”

  “You think I’m what he says. Sissy boy.”

  “No I don’t! But, you’re gonna get slap burnt up!”

  “Oh, sure. Yeah. That’s it.”
/>   “What’s the matter with you?”

  The look he gave me was as searing as the sun over our heads, his expression like he wanted to say something else.

  I grabbed up my hoe and said, “Do what you want. Least I don’t pout like a baby when I’m upset. You didn’t see me having a hissy fit or being hateful to anyone earlier, right?”

  Daniel grabbed his hoe and launched it like a spear. It landed about three rows away, right on top of the cotton, crushing the plants.

  “Daniel!”

  He ignored me and stomped across the field to get it. And where he ended up was where he stayed. I began to feel sorry for myself while I worked. I was the one who ought to be upset, considering. I whacked everywhere I could see pokeweed, horseweed, killing the things growing that shouldn’t be. I could hear Daniel doing the same, violently stabbing the dirt, making little grunting noises as he did so. The afternoon wore on. I stopped for a drink of water, and Trent rolled by heading for another section of field. He looked over at Daniel, still hunched over the plants, the hoe rising up and falling. He shook his head and went on. I looked at Daniel who refused to pay me or even Trent any mind. His arms were turning the color of his shirt. I stared at the sky and estimated it was going on three o’clock, a long ways to go yet. After a little while, Daniel broke his silence. He was still three rows over, but close enough I could hear him.

  “Sonny?”

  I didn’t stop working. I didn’t feel chitchatty after an entire afternoon of silence.

  “Hey, Sonny.”

  “What,” said I, emphasis on the t.

  My response was flat as the hoe blade. I sighed and quit murdering the weeds. I stared across the tops of the cotton plants and fought not to bust out laughing.

  I cleared my throat and said, “Let’s get a drink.”

  Daniel hurried ahead of me over to the shade of the pine tree. He almost glowed, and I was certain he regretted his impulsive decision. A few clouds had formed and tried to offer us respite from the direct rays. The breeze had kicked up too, and I picked at the end of my shirt, pulling it from my skin, letting air get in. We stood side by side, sipping the still-cool water, and eating brownies.

  Daniel swallowed the last of his and said, “You know, sometimes I feel like I just don’t belong nowhere.”

  He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. The difference was, he’d never mentioned it before.

  I licked my fingers and said, “Well, you are a little weird, ya know.”

  He shoved my shoulder in a playful manner, coming back around to being Daniel.

  Then, with a cautious tone, he said, “Do you think I am?”

  “Think you’re what?”

  “Weird?”

  “No, silly. I was only kidding.”

  “Maybe you are, but the rest of them ain’t. Ain’t nobody at school ever asked me to play baseball, or football, or you know, be on a team. Or to even eat lunch with them.”

  “Do you want to play ball?”

  “No, but that ain’t it. You’re my only real friend. Heck, even my own family acts like they don’t want me around half the time. At home? Brenda and Sarah pretty much ignore me unless they want me to do something for them.”

  Daniel started to pace and droplets of sweat fell from the ends of his hair, which was stuck to his neck. He put a hand underneath the strands, and lifted them so the breeze could get to his skin. It was something I’d do with my own hair, and the gesture suddenly stood out. I couldn’t picture Ross or Trent doing such a thing. That was it. It was his hair.

  Excited to have figured it out, I said, “Daniel, it’s your hair!”

  “Huh? My hair? What’s that go to do with anything?”

  “Just now, the way you did that thing to get it off your neck.”

  “It’s hot, what else am I supposed to do?”

  “Cut it?”

  He was quiet, like he was thinking about what I said. Like maybe I’d brought something to his attention he’d never thought of before.

  He shook his head. “It’s more than that. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  He clamped his mouth shut, and the idea he had a secret he was keeping from me hurt my feelings.

  Wanting to ease his mind, and hoping he’d share it, I said, “Well, you fit in here, with us.”

  “I used to. Not anymore, not with him around.”

  We were quiet for a minute, then I said, “I told Mama I didn’t like him. I told her how he is, things he says when she ain’t around.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She was gonna say something to him, but I didn’t want her to. I thought it might make him mad.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yeah.”

  Just before six we’d worked our way closer to the house, and as we came out of the field, I took a good look at Daniel and said, “Oh my God.”

  “What?”

  “Your skin.”

  Daniel mashed a finger on his arm and a white spot showed and quickly disappeared.

  “Ouch,” he said.

  Mr. Fowler happened by, and gave him an assessing look. “Looks like the little flit got scorched. You gonna run home to Mommy and cry?”

  He put his fists up to his eyes, twisted them against the lids, and made a wah, wah, wah, baby crying noise. Daniel and I ignored him. I followed him to get his bike while Mr. Fowler’s low singsong, “Aw, boohoohoo,” followed us. Daniel got his bike out from the back of our truck.

  I said, “Mama’s gonna be disappointed you ain’t staying.”

  He tipped his head toward Mr. Fowler. “Not a chance. Not with him.”

  I couldn’t blame him. I had all sorts of bad thoughts about Mr. Fowler as I stared at my friend pedaling down Turtle Pond Road like he was being chased by something I couldn’t see.

  I never prayed so hard for rain as I did that night, and I also prayed for the cotton season to be over, and repeated my wish for more bales per acre than ever before. I pictured it in my mind and swore up and down, sideways and straight, for the plants to ignore what they weren’t getting. I prayed Mr. Fowler would never come around here again. I was praying for miracles, and as I held Dolly tight, stroking her blond hair, I somehow knew none of it was possible.There would be no miracle ’cause if miracles were going to happen, it should have been for Daddy to live through that rattlesnake bite. It would have been the only one needed.

  Chapter 14

  After a few days of frantic searching, I finally broke down and asked Mama had she seen my willow branch. Trent and Ross were cramming bologna sandwiches and chips in their mouths, chased by Pepsi ’cause Mama had been too busy to cook like usual. She’d been making blackberry jam all morning long, and was twisting the top of the last jar.

  Looking a little flustered, she said, “No, honey, I ain’t seen hide nor hair of it.”

  “Darn.”

  She plopped a crate I’d used to sell eggs up on the table, and started putting the jars into it. “Did you look in the barn? Maybe you left it there.”

  “I’ve looked everywhere.”

  There was a hitch in my voice as the words bumped over the knot forming in my throat. She didn’t know how long I’d been looking. The kitchen was overly warm from the boiling pots she’d used for the preserves while the humidity level rose outside too. We’d put a fan in one of the windows of the kitchen, facing outward so it would pull out the sticky air. It worked until about noon, and after that, nothing would help except to wait for the sun to go down.

  Mama wiped her forehead and said, “Well, keep looking, honey, and I’ll help you after I get back. I got to go take this blackberry jam I made to Mrs. Aiken.”

  I nodded and she went to the car, crate resting on her hip as she opened the door. She’d only just made a decision to get back to making a little extra money and I was sure it had to do with the cotton. This made me feel even more guilty. Trent and Ross kept eating, not looking at me. Maybe they were thinking the same thing. It was my fault. T
he phone rang with our special tone. I’d tried to call Daniel earlier and didn’t get an answer, and I hoped it was him.

  I ran over to the hall table and answered, “Hello?”

  “Hey, Sonny.”

  “Well, hey there, Daniel.”

  “What’s buzzin’, cuzzin?”

  “Huh?”

  Daniel sighed. “What’s new?”

  “Daniel, you got to come quick.”

  I held my breath, unsure if he would.

  He said, “Why?”

  “I can’t find my willow branch!”

  “Is he there?”

  He wasn’t—yet. He’d be coming sooner or later, and I found myself wanting to lie about it if it meant Daniel would stay home. I wanted to say he hadn’t been around for days, but Daniel would know by my voice. He just knew, somehow.

  “Not yet.”

  “I’ll come, but you better not laugh when you see me. And, if he starts anything, I’m leaving.”

  “Why, what’s . . . ?” and I got dial tone.

  I drifted back into the kitchen and made myself a bologna sandwich, making sure I spread the slices heavy with mustard.

  Trent offered a suggestion. “Did you look in a tree? That’s where most branches are found.”

  He laughed at his own joke, while Ross said, “Shut up, Trent.”

  “You shut up.”

  “No, you . . .”

  I picked up my sandwich, and went outside to sit on the porch swing to eat. I moved it back and forth, pushing gently with one foot, while watching the road. Trent and Ross came out a few minutes later. Trent headed off toward the barn, while Ross dropped down to sit beside me.

  He said, “Want me to help you look?”

  I shook my head and said, “No, that’s okay, thanks anyway.”

  He yanked on my ponytail, and went off to work in the barn, wiping his hands down the front of his dungarees. Thirty minutes later I knew why Daniel said what he said. He rode into the yard on his bike, got off, and came up the steps and flopped down beside me. I couldn’t say a word. His skin looked like a molting snake. It was peeling and flaking all over, making his face and arms look like a speckled egg. The end of his nose was shiny and red.