Uncle Sean

by Ronald L Donaghe

  I began to shake, cause I know he knows something, too, and he don’t want me to feel how I feel.

  “That ain’t what I want,” I say, and I want to tell him I know about his buddy, but for some reason, I get the notion that it’s not a good idea.

  I also knew why he said my question was dangerous. So that was it. He didn’t want to talk about it. I decided right then that I’d find a way to make him know what I wanted was him to be my buddy, and I guess he was scared of that, only I don’t know why, cause he’d been in the army and in a war, after all. What was more dangerous than that?

  ***

  I’m up here in the loft, cause that’s where I write. I want to write down things I’ve figured out.

  One. I know Uncle Sean is like me. He had a buddy. He thought his buddy was pretty, and his buddy thought he was too. And his buddy T.S. give him a picture of him naked, cause that’s what buddies like me and Uncle Sean want to see. Two. I know what wet dreams are for. A year or so ago, Daddy said he wanted to have a man-to-man talk and tells me don’t be ashamed when Mama showed him my underpants when she did the wash. It’s just part of manhood Daddy said. For a long time I figured Daddy was right, and so when I woke up in the morning and my underpants was all sticky and smelled like flour paste, I didn’t feel ashamed or red-faced, though of course I never said anything about it, except that one time when Daddy had that talk with me. It helped some.

  But now I know how to have wet dreams. All I do is think about Uncle Sean and laying up next to him in his bed without any clothes on. I know how to jerk off, too. So when I go back to school and those boys, specially old Man Hill’s grandkid, start in talking about jerking off, and look around at us younger boys, grinning at us cause they don’t think we know what they’re talking about, I can grin right back and say I do, too.

  I ain’t never had any trouble being liked, cause I was always good when we played football and ran around the football field and nobody ever bested me in a fight, cause I can fight good, though I don’t like to.

  I’m looking out the loft and, now, I can see the green spreading out in the fields, where we got a real nice patch of corn growing a foot a day in this June heat. Most days now it’s at least a hundred.

  But I like the heat and sweating, and I can just close my eyes and smell Uncle Sean’s sweat, like the day he put his arm around my shoulders out in the field.

  So I know things, and I could sure use a shotgun from Uncle Sean, because there’re things that make me hurt deep down like he said. And I got to plan how I’m gonna get him to kiss me, cause I do think he thinks I’m pretty, and he’s got to be lonely, too.

  I can hear everybody out in the yard, and Trinket even came in the barn a minute ago calling me, and I just sat real still cause I know she can’t climb up in the loft cause the ladder is rickety and she’s afraid of bugs.

  Daddy and Uncle Sean are working on the cultivator, switching out disks, and raising the bar, now that the cotton’s above our knees. I can see Uncle Sean, and from up here he looks small, though he’s just down below me. Daddy makes him do all the heavy lifting, but that’s all right. Daddy pulled his back out a couple’a weeks ago. I like it now that they ain’t yelling at each other so much. I guess they had to get used to each other and Daddy had to get used to the idea that Uncle Sean was gonna be here for awhile.

  It helps a lot, too, because Uncle Sean gets some kind of pension checks, and he bought Daddy a pair of gloves and Mama one of them electric can openers. He give the girls some perfume, too, first time his pension check came in the mail. Only I think May would’a wanted a baseball mitt or something like that. But she acted real excited about the perfume, anyway.

  But he took me to town and asked me what I wanted, and I said a Big Chief tablet, and he laughed and said okay but you got to pick out something nicer’n that, so I got a pair of gloves like Daddy got.

  The thing is, everybody got something except Uncle Sean, and he still looks sad sometimes. So I been touching him a little more. I used to be afraid to, but like when we’re in the pickup and he’s driving, I sit a little closer and put my arm on the back of the seat and sometimes drop my hand down on his shoulder. At first I was giddy about it, but long as he just thinks it’s me being a kid, I do it, though I sometimes have to rearrange myself down there, especially when he’s looking real pretty.

  Three

  ———————▼———————

  I never said, but my sisters May, Rita, and Trinket all like Uncle Sean a lot, too. And one time when they came back from that birthday party Julie Collins had over at her house, Julie’s mother Margie Collins came in to visit when she brung the girls back, and Uncle Sean was in the kitchen drinking coffee and he didn’t have on no shirt, and I saw Mrs. Collins’ eyes bug out of her head, and she couldn’t take her eyes off Uncle Sean even when she was talking to Mama. Like when someone is talking to you, but they’ve got their head turned at something they’re looking at.

  And I know Uncle Sean notices her looking, too, cause I was looking at Mrs. Collins looking at Uncle Sean, and Uncle Sean was looking at me and he caught my eyes and kind of rolled his.

  I meant to ask him how he felt about that, but he got out of the kitchen pretty fast, and was off in the barn when Mrs. Collins drove off. I bout split my side, cause when she left, she was looking around as she walked off the porch, almost tripping. And I knew she wanted to get another look at him. I don’t blame her. I feel the same way.

  So thinking about that, today, I talked to my sisters. We sometimes play Old Maid, cause Trinket likes it, and we were in their room, and Uncle Sean and Daddy were out somewhere doing stuff and Mama was in the kitchen fixing supper, and I figured I needed to play with Trinket, because she and me are buddies. The funny thing is, we play Old Maid so much the Old Maid card is all bent, but Trinket gets a kick out of us trying to hide it with the other cards.

  Trinket’s like Daddy in looks with her black hair and dark eyes, but she’s so little for her age, Mama says she looks like a little porcelain doll (had to look up that word, porcelain, in the Webster’s). And she took up with Uncle Sean right away and sits on his lap in the living room when we’re all watching Bonanza. She’s only eight years old, so I figure I can talk grown kid’s talk with May and Rita, though Rita’s two years younger than me. She’s twelve and blonde like me, though she’s got Mama’s green eyes, and she sneaks Mama’s Revlon and wears it in the bedroom when we’re playing Old Maid. She’s kind of pretty, too, with the Revlon on.

  Now May is as freckled as the belly of an old dog we used to have, and she’s got red hair and green eyes. She’s fifteen and really hates boys. So I knew only Rita would have a real idea about Uncle Sean, so I asked her when she was drawing a card from me, “Do girls like Uncle Sean?”

  Trinket just listens, though she’s jittery cause Rita’s about to draw the Old Maid. May says, “he’s too pretty for a boy,” and kind of giggles and says, “but I like him all right cause he can throw a curve ball.” May’s what Mama calls a tomboy.

  Rita’s hand is hovering over the top of my cards, but I won’t let her bend them down so she can get a look to see which one’s got the corner ripped off.

  “Do they?” I ask, again, and Rita, she looks at me. “Mrs. Collins sure does. The first thing she asked me when I saw her th’other day at the gas station. How’s your uncle? Is he married? How long’s he gonna be there?”

  “What do you think?” I say, trying not to seem too interested like Mrs. Collins was.

  Rita settles on a card, but it ain’t the Old Maid and Trinket lets out a holler. “Will’s gonna be the Old Maid!” She giggles. “Never been married, never been kissed! Will don’t know what he’s missed!”

  “Uncle Sean is too old for girls!” Rita finally says.

  “Do you think he’s pretty, though?” I say, getting real nervous, cause that’s what I wanted to ask all along.

  “Pretty?” May says. “Pretty?! That’s for girls, Dosier Duffus!�
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  But Rita knows what I mean. “He’s bea-u-ti-ful!” She says breaking up the word like that.

  By now my heart’s pounding hard, cause I found out what they thought, and they didn’t look at me funny. Well, maybe not too funny, cause May was grinning at me like she knew some funny secret.

  A minute later, who should stick his head in the door but Uncle Sean, saying supper’s ready, and Rita and me start giggling. Trinket runs up to him and he swoops her up. “Guess what, Uncle Sean?” She says. “Will’s the Old Maid! Never been kissed!”

  I will be, I think to myself, looking up at Uncle Sean. He’s had a bath and his hair’s all slicked back, and he’s wearing a real shirt and dress slacks, and I get this terrible heavy feeling in my stomach, as he carries Trinket out of the room. He’s going some where and didn’t tell me!

  So I sat through supper sneaking looks at him, and he’s quiet as usual, but I don’t like the way his eyes look. They’re sparkly, or something, and kind of far away, like he’s thinking about where he’s going and what he’s gonna be doing. I hope it ain’t some buddy he’s found when he went into town, and then I think about Mrs. Collins, and I can feel my face turning red, cause of the way she couldn’t stop looking at him.

  So when supper’s done and Daddy’s in the living room and Mama and the girls are in the kitchen, I follow Uncle Sean out to his car. He’s real polite, though, which makes me feel all the worse, cause it’s like he’s treating me like a kid, stopping long enough, cause he knows I want something.

  I feel like a kid still in my Levi’s and no shirt and barefoot, and stinky cause I ain’t had a bath. So I say, “where’re you going, Uncle Sean? How come you didn’t—”

  I stop cause I sound like a whiny kid.

  “Just out for a little while, Will.”

  “But you’re all dressed up,” I say. And I think it’s like a date or something but I can’t ask.

  Then he looks at me. We’re standing by his car, but he hasn’t opened the door yet, though he’s got his keys in his hand. His paler-than-blue eyes are so beautiful, I feel my chest heaving and my stomach is all heavy, and I’m a kid. “Will, listen to me…okay?” He says. And his voice is so quiet, it’s almost like he’s choking on the words he’s about to say.

  “What?” I say. “Uncle Sean, I ain’t a kid like you think. I know things.”

  Then he shifts feet and I see him nod to himself. “I know you do, Will. I’m just going into Lordsburg. There’s this little bar. I can’t take you there. You know that.”

  My chest feels all wet inside, cause he even wants to go out, instead of him and me sitting in his car or talking in his bedroom. “Well,” I say, “drinking is bad. Daddy says it is, says it’s money down the drain.”

  Then he sort of chuckles. “Your daddy’s probably right, Will. I’m not that much on drinking, myself. But sometimes…sometimes I just need to get out and think.”

  And I think about the night I looked in his window and he was holding that picture and his face was wet, and so then I feel more sorry for him than for myself.

  So a minute later, I smile and say good-bye and head back to the house. I know what I’m gonna do, as soon as everybody goes to bed.

  ***

  Later, I went out the window, again. I didn’t even keep the screen latched on my north window anymore, I been out it so many times, cause I sometimes just get out and lay in the grass and look at the stars. I been doing that for a couple of years. But as soon as I thought everybody went to bed, I climbed out the window and headed around to Uncle Sean’s room. It was so hot everybody had their windows open, and every screen on the house has the same kind of latch, which comes open with a piece of wire.

  So, even in the dark, I could slip it into the screen and push the latch away. And I was in Uncle Sean’s room a second later, tip-toeing to the door and pushing it shut without flipping on the light. With the windows open, I would be able to hear a car coming up the road a mile away, so I’d know when Uncle Sean was coming and I could get out.

  It weren’t wash day, so the sheets on Uncle Sean’s bed were rumpled, so he wouldn’t know I was even in it. So I pulled back the covers and slid in and covered my head up. I could smell him. I took a deep breath and pulled his pillow up against me and hugged it, and I could smell him on the pillow, kind of like faint sweat, but also a little of that burning tumbleweed, and I kissed the pillow, pretending I was finally kissing Uncle Sean, knowing his face had laid on the pillow, and maybe his hurt had made tears on it, and his lips had probably touched it. And I just laid there listening for his car and hoping Mrs. Collins weren’t at the little bar, or—

  ***

  It seemed like just a minute later, but it wasn’t, cause Uncle Sean was shaking my shoulder and whispering. “Will? What’re you doing in here!” I could smell his breath and it smelled like beer.

  He didn’t turn on the light, but I saw his face kind of shiny with sweat and he was real close. I didn’t know I was going to, but I grabbed him around the neck, and pulled him on top of me. Maybe it was because he was drunk, but he didn’t pull back, and all of a sudden, we were laying in his bed and he got his arms around my back, holding me a lot closer than he did that day in the field with his arm around my shoulder, and even though I didn’t like the way his breath smelled, I pushed my mouth against his, and our lips touched, and for just a second, he kissed me back. His lips were a lot softer, even, than they look, and my heart was pounding, cause this was even more’n I thought it’d be.

  And just when I thought he was gonna let me kiss him a lot and hold me, he got up off me. And when I sat up and tried to take his hand, he grabbed my wrists, both of ’em, and I came flying off the bed. He’s a lot stronger than I thought, though I never thought he weren’t strong.

  In just a second, I was standing up and my knees were shaking, and he had me by the shoulders, whispering in my ear. He was mad and polite at the same time.

  “No, Will. You can’t do this. It is not right. Now go on, before anybody hears us. We’ll talk tomorrow. Go on, now!”

  Four

  ———————▼———————

  Uncle Sean didn’t smile when I came in for breakfast. He was wearing his fatigues and the ugly green t-shirt and a pair of boots, and Mama was asking him how his night was.

  I looked over at him, but he only glanced at me.

  Daddy was already out, and the girls weren’t up yet. And Uncle Sean said there was a fist fight at the bar and the cops came and broke it up. That was all. But I could tell Mama didn’t care about the fist fight, cause she’s smiling. “Did you meet any nice women?” she asked him, and I knew he didn’t like that question, even though he smiled.

  He glanced at me, again, and this time it was a long enough look that I saw he had questions in his eyes, questions for me, and I hoped we’d talk, and I hoped he wasn’t too mad about last night.

  But Mama said, “Diane Mars is a nice looking gal, Sean. Maybe she ain’t real smart, but she’s been bartending there at the Ojo Negro for ten years, so she’s solid and nice looking, too.”

  “I met her,” Uncle Sean said, and then he looked at me and rolled his eyes, and my heart lifted a little. I hoped it was kind of his way of saying he ain’t interested. Then back to Mama, he said, “I met several single women and a couple of married ones, too. But I’m not looking to date, just yet, Arlene.”

  Mama looked flustered and kind of frowned, and I wondered if she has any notion at all about her baby brother. Then she got up and said she had to start the wash and mop.

  ***

  A little while later, me and Uncle Sean were moving irrigation pipes from a patch of cotton to a patch of grain. We got side boards on the trailer and piled the 10-foot lengths of pipe into it. They were all muddy and heavy, and we were both sweating and grunting, but Uncle Sean was all quiet and wouldn’t look me in the eye, except ever once and again, and those questions were still there.

  We finally got all the pipe loaded a
nd were in the pickup and he was driving, going slow, and he looked over at me. I was sitting way on the other side of the seat, not trying to be too close and touch him as I have been doing cause I was afraid he’d be mad at me.

  “We got to talk, Will,” he said.

  “I know,” I said. “Where do you want to start?”

  He took a breath, and I could hear it was ragged and he was nervous, though I didn’t know why, only it made me feel sorry for him. He looked back at the road and I was dying because he’s so pretty, the way the wind coming through the pickup lifted his hair, and the way the sweat kind of shone down his neck. And his lips were so pink and puffy looking, I wanted to kiss him so bad.

  “Let’s start,” he finally said, glancing at me, fixing me with his eyes, “with what you were doing in my bed.” Then he fixed his eyes on the road, because we were coming to the bridge.

  “I just wanted to lay in there for a little while, Uncle Sean. I didn’t mean to fall asleep in there.”

  “But why?!” he said, his voice going a little loud. And it was like being slapped. I felt my face turning red and tears stinging my eyes.

  “I just wanted—” I stopped. I had to tell him things, lots of things.

  “What?” His voice was gentle again. “I’m not angry with you, Will, but you just don’t realize how dangerous what you did is.”

  “Nobody would a found out, Uncle Sean.”

  “And when you kissed me?” he said. “What were you thinking?”

  I felt a sob start way down in my stomach. “I been dying to kiss you, Uncle Sean. You’re so pretty!” I couldn’t believe I finally said it, but I weren’t sorry.

  It seemed like light came shining in through the roof of the cab, cause it got so bright in the pickup just then, lighter than the scalding sunlight all around us, so that Uncle Sean was blurry over in the seat, and I could feel the pickup come to a halt and hear the pipes shift in the trailer.