The Book of Bright Ideas

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The Book of Bright Ideas Page 12

by Sandra Kring


  At four o’clock, we packed up the rest of Aunt Verdella’s stuff (which wasn’t much, because she sold real good), and we headed back to her house. Winnalee and me were happy because we were going to get to spend the night there, since Freeda was working, and Ma and Daddy were going to be at Marty’s too, for an anniversary party for Bernice’s mom and dad. Then Aunt Verdella was going to run me home first thing in the morning.

  Aunt Verdella walked us over to Winnalee’s house so we could get some dress-up clothes to go with our purses. We each picked out some clothes, then before we left her room, Winnalee dug out her Book of Bright Ideas, and we wrote, Bright Idea #88: If a giant names his price, but it’s a price you think is too much to pay, don’t listen to him. Even if he is a giant. She closed our book and was gonna tuck it back under her pillow, but I stopped her. “Wait,” I said. “I want to write something that the giant man told us about how to find where we’re going. In case I forget, since I don’t think you were listening to that part. If we write in here, we’ll have it for later.”

  Winnalee handed me the book and I wrote on the same page, Bright Idea #89: If you ever don’t know which direction to go in, or you start moving in the right direction but then get lost along the way, don’t get rattled and start moving fast, this way and that. Instead, stand still and be quiet. Then you’ll be showed which way to go.

  Me and Winnalee were so tuckered out by suppertime that Aunt Verdella let us eat on the couch, then she took our plates into the kitchen for us. We were gonna play after supper, but instead all we did was sit propped against each other and watch Gunsmoke. We fell asleep before Marshal Dillon even got out of trouble.

  I don’t know who carried us up to the spare bedroom, but somebody did, because that’s where we were when Aunt Verdella’s singing woke us up. The whole house was filled with the good smells of bacon and coffee as we headed downstairs. After we ate some Malt-O-Meal and bacon and toast, and Uncle Rudy left to do some things in the barn, me and Winnalee went outside to play.

  We got on our horses made of sticks and rode off across the backyard. “Hey, look at that tree!” Winnalee said, pulling her horse to a stop when we got to the edge, where the woods began. The tree was old and big. It came out of the ground with one trunk, then split into three halfways up. There was a big, dark spot at its feet.

  Winnalee dropped her horse and ran to the tree, getting down on her hands and knees and parting the tall grass more, so she could peer into a hole that was rotted away at the bottom. “Hey, we could hide our adventure bag in here! Nobody would find it!” Winnalee ran around the tree, looking it up and down. “Look! Right here, where the three branches start, there’s a flat spot! If we swing up from this branch here, we can get up there.”

  I looked at the branch and bit my lip. Winnalee grabbed the lowest branch poking sideways, then swung her legs up and wrapped them around the branch. She grunted some as she pulled herself upright, then scooted herself along the branch until she reached the trunk. “Look! It’s like a little floor!” she yelled as she swung her feet down to the flat part. “Come on, Button! This is fun! Hey, this can be our magic tree. It can fly us to other places. Like California and to the moon. Come on! Do it like I did!” So after biting myself a little more, I climbed up, just like Winnalee had.

  We played on our new magic tree for a couple of hours, flying to far-off places, then getting down and looking around until some mean people or space monsters started after us. Then we raced back to our magic tree and hoisted ourselves back up so it could carry us to safety. When we got tired of being chased by bad guys, we snuck to Winnalee’s house and grabbed our adventure bag. We brought it back to the magic tree and stuffed it into the hole.

  We had just gotten our adventure bag hidden when Aunt Verdella called out of the kitchen window that it was lunchtime.

  “Get out the milk, will you, honey?” Aunt Verdella said to me. While I was getting it, and Winnalee was getting our favorite pink cups from the cupboard, Aunt Verdella leaned over and peered out the window. “Your ma’s here, Button.” Winnalee groaned. I would have too, except that my throat was busy making that other noise because Aunt Verdella said, “I hope she’s not upset that I didn’t bring you home earlier.”

  Aunt Verdella handed me a plate with a ham sandwich on it, and potato salad, and pickles. “You know, Button, I don’t think I heard you make those noises in your throat even once since yesterday. Not until now.” She kissed the top of my head. “Stay happy, okay? And sit down and eat your lunch. I’m sure your ma will wait till you eat, and if she can’t, then Auntie will wrap it up for you to take home.” She handed Winnalee her plate too.

  “Hi, Jewel,” Aunt Verdella said when Ma came through the door. “Sorry I was running so late. We’re just having lunch. You hungry? How was the anniversary p—” She stopped talking when she looked up from pouring milk and saw that Ma’s face was pinched with mad.

  “Verdella, I thought you said you’d be running Evelyn home this morning. I’ve been waiting for her since eight o’clock.” I’d never heard Ma talk so mad-sounding to Aunt Verdella before. (About her, yes, but never right to her face.) Me and Winnalee had our purses slung over the knob of our chairs, and Ma stared at them with crabby eyes. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d stop buying Button things. Old or new. On her birthday or Christmas, that’s fine, but not in between. You spoil her rotten. It’s no wonder that she’d rather be here than at home.”

  Winnalee picked up her red purse and folded her arms over it. “They were only a dime each,” she said.

  Aunt Verdella’s mouth made a circle. “Well, Jewel, I’m sorry. I did say I’d run her home in the morning. I just lost track of time, though, and I figured you and Reece might like to sleep in this morning, being up late, and it being Sunday and all.”

  Ma looked like she hadn’t slept. Her eyes were puffy and dark underneath—what Uncle Rudy called “boxer’s eyes,” which meant eyes that looked like they’d gotten punched, even if they hadn’t. “Listen, Verdella. I’ve had it up to here with you acting like you own Evelyn. And I’m sick of shutting my mouth about it too. Evelyn is my daughter, not yours. I decide when she comes here and when she comes home. And I decide what she can have and what she can’t.”

  “Well…Jewel, I…I’m sorry. I didn’t know that…”

  Ma was so angry that she was shaking. She put up her hand, like Uncle Rudy always did when he wanted Knucklehead to stop barking. “Geesh,” I heard Winnalee mumble.

  “You take a lot for granted, Verdella. Especially when it comes to Reece and Button. It’s not my fault you never had a child of your own, but I’m not going to let you steal Button from me, like you stole Reece from Mae. You got that?”

  Aunt Verdella gasped.

  Without saying a word out loud, I begged Ma to stop. The way she was shaking, though, her cheeks stained red, I knew she wasn’t going to. Not yet anyway.

  “I don’t know what your problem is, Verdella. But I know it has something to do with the fact that you couldn’t have children of your own. And probably something to do with that little boy you ran over years before you came into this family. But I’ll tell you this much, Verdella. No matter what the reason, you don’t have any right trying to fill that empty place with other people’s children.”

  Poor Aunt Verdella looked like she’d been punched. Her hand went over her heart, and tears bubbled out of her eyes.

  It was like every word Ma spoke was a bullet. A bullet that hit Aunt Verdella first, then bounced off her and pinged right into my chest.

  For a little bit, Aunt Verdella just stared at Ma, her face going bedsheet white. Then she started shaking—more so than Ma—and big sobs started choking her breath. She stumbled to the table and almost fell before she could pull out a kitchen chair to sit on. Winnalee, who was standing right next to me, took my hand and squeezed it. For the first time since I knew her, Winnalee didn’t have a thing to say.

  Ma blew out one more angry breath, then grabbed my
free arm and jerked me out the door, my lunch left on the table where I’d put it.

  I was crying as Ma drug me to the car, and so was she, even though she was still stiff with meanness.

  As we pulled out of the driveway, fast, I saw Winnalee running barefoot across the yard toward her house, her loops trailing behind her. I hoped and hoped that she was going to the field to get Uncle Rudy, or to her house to get Freeda.

  Anybody who could help Aunt Verdella stop shaking and crying.

  11

  “Stop scratching your arms, Evelyn!” Ma snapped as we drove home. I looked down at my skin, which was blotchy with red patches and streaked with fingernail scratches, and I tucked my hands under my legs to keep from scratching them more.

  When we got out of the car, Ma headed to the house and I followed, staying as far behind her as I could. As soon as we got inside, Ma told me to get to my dusting, because I’d missed cleaning day. I hurried to get some cleaning rags and the Pledge from under the sink. My hands were as shaky as Aunt Verdella’s as I reached for them, and there was a lump in my throat that felt as big as my head.

  I hurried into the living room and started on the coffee table, where I always started. I had to blink to clear my eyes enough to see if I was leaving streaks.

  A couple of hours later, while Ma was doing dishes and I was wiping down the heating register right by the bay window, Freeda Malone’s red truck came rushing up the driveway. She slammed the truck’s door hard when she got out and marched to the house, jerking open the screen door and coming inside without knocking. “Jewel? Jewel!” she yelled.

  Ma came from the kitchen, her dishcloth in her hand. She didn’t even have time to close her mouth before Freeda lit into her.

  “What in the hell do you think you were pulling last night? Making a goddamn scene like you did, and siccing those biddies on me? I went to the goddamn can to take a piss on my break, and there that bitch was—Bertie, or Beatrice, or whatever the hell she said her name was—and she lit into me good. Accused me of having an affair with Reece. She said you were onto the whole thing and that I wasn’t pulling the wool over anybody’s eyes.

  “Listen here, Jewel Peters. I may be a lot of goddamn things, but the one thing I ain’t is a home-wrecker. I wouldn’t have a fling with Reece if he asked me to—which he hasn’t—because I don’t sleep with married men. I don’t have many principles, but I’ve got that one. I don’t care how much sweet-talkin’ a married man gives me, or how goddamn cute his ass is. If he’s married, I tell him where to go.” Freeda was so mad that her whole body looked as if it was gonna snap in half.

  “I just couldn’t believe you last night. The way you sat there fuming when the band asked Reece to get up and play a few numbers with them. Yep, I did suggest it to them, but big goddamn deal. So did about twenty other people. And, yeah, Reece got a little flirty into the mic when he asked me to bring them drinks, but, honey, it was all a part of the show. And like it or not, Reece is a flirty kind of guy, just as I’m a flirty kind of woman. And you’d probably be one too, if you weren’t such a tight-ass. But instead you made a scene, slapping Reece’s face as soon as he got off the stage and came over by you, and taking off, leaving Reece stranded. Crissakes! What in the hell is the matter with you, anyway? You trying to get my ass fired or to just have me run out of town? Goddammit, I don’t need this shit! If I wanted gossip, I would have stayed back in my own stinkin’ hometown!”

  Freeda stopped to take a breath. She was rocking from one leg to the other, like people do when they get so mad they’re ready to explode.

  “Are you that goddamn jealous that you want to scratch the eyes out of any woman who dares look at your man? If that’s the case, you’d better keep your nails sharpened, missy. Reece is one good-lookin’ guy. But then, you know that. That’s why you keep his sorry ass glued to home whenever you can, isn’t it? Jesus, Jewel. The man loves playing his music. Any idiot can see that! And he’s damn good at it. Why in the hell do you want to rob him of the one thing he really loves doing?”

  Freeda paused only long enough to take a deep breath. “What the hell’s the matter with you, anyway? Creating a scene like you did at Marty’s last night, then marching over to Verdella’s today to create an even worse one!

  “Winnalee came to get me. Verdella was a mess when I got there. A goddamn mess. She told me what you said to her. And what she was crying too hard to say, Winnalee told. After she settled down some, Verdella told me how you brought up that painful incident from her past. How could you be so goddamn cruel, Jewel? How? Did you know that that poor woman thinks that God Almighty Himself punished her for that accident by making her sterile? Jesus, Jewel! She couldn’t leave her house for ten years after she ran over that little boy, for fear that if she did, she’d accidentally kill somebody else. She stayed holed up, punishing herself until her folks died and she was forced to leave home. Then you go and reopen that wound, and for what? To get even with her because your husband and daughter adore her?

  “You know what, Jewel? You’re a bitch. Just a fuckin’ bitch. That woman is nothing but sweet to you. Even after you ripped her a new asshole today, she defended you to me. You’re not even good enough to eat that woman’s shit. You know that, Jewel Peters? It’s not her fault that Reece and Button slipped under her wing to keep from shriveling up and dying without any love from their own mothers, now, is it? What in the hell you doing, blaming Verdella for who she is? What kind of mission you on, anyway? You flip your goddamn lid, or what?”

  I don’t know what I expected Ma to do, but for sure not what she did. The rag fell from her hand and her shoulders dropped till I was sure they’d snag on her belt. She leaned against the wall and tipped her head against it, as though even that part of her didn’t have the energy to keep itself up. Then her face screwed up, and she started crying. “I don’t know what got into me. I just…I just snapped. Last night, this morning…I just snapped.”

  “Well, what needs to snap is that rod you have stuffed up your ass.”

  Ma’s arm went up slowly, and her hand cupped her forehead. Her shoulders pumped with each sob. “The truth hurts, don’t it?” Freeda said.

  All of a sudden, it was like Ma’s tears washed clean every drop of mad Freeda had in her. Freeda took a big breath and it whooshed out of her. She groaned a bit, then went over to Ma and took her elbow. She led her to the recliner. “Come on. Sit down before you fall on your bony ass.”

  I knew that within a second or two Ma was gonna realize I was there and tell me to go outside or into my room and close the door, so I backed up and slipped inside my room. I left the door open a couple of inches and stayed just to the side of it, so my big ears could hear everything and I could take peeks if I wanted to.

  Ma was crying hard. “Aw, Jesus. You got some Kleenex around here?” Freeda asked.

  Freeda’s feet stomped across the floor and came right to the bathroom across from my room. I heard the toilet-paper roller spin and then Freeda’s foot stomps thumping back into the living room.

  “Here. I couldn’t find any Kleenex. Come on now, blow.” Ma did, and for a time there was no sound but for Ma’s sniffling. I peeked around the corner and saw that Freeda had sat down on the couch, right across from where Ma was sitting on the recliner.

  “Look. You aren’t gonna like me very much for sayin’ what I’m about to say, but, hell, you don’t like me as it is anyway….

  “Jewel, if you bite the hands that feed you, you’re gonna end up even more bitter and ugly inside than you already are. I don’t think I need to say any more about what you pulled on Verdella a bit ago. I think you know already just how wrong that was. And I hope to hell you have enough decency to right it, the best you can. So instead of harping more on that, I’m just gonna say the rest of what I came here to say.

  “Jewel, you go accusing a man of sleeping around every time he steps out of the house, then sure as shit, that’s exactly what he’s gonna end up doin’. It’s like…well, it’s like
owning a dog—if you keep a dog on a short leash and give him nothing but bitchin’ and swattin’, and you never play with him or scratch his belly, you’ll keep him in the yard, all right. At least while the chain holds. But sooner or later, that dog is gonna snap it, and then he’s gonna make a beeline for the hills.”

  Ma was still crying. I couldn’t see her, but I could hear her, and just hearing her cry was making my own eyes water.

  “Now, it might look to most people like you don’t give a shit about either your husband or your little girl, but I don’t buy that. I think you love them with all your heart, but you just don’t know how to show it. You’ve about snuffed every bit of joy out of that man. And that kid of yours, you got her so uptight that she’s gonna bite and scratch herself to death. Obedience isn’t love, Jewel.”

  Just hearing Freeda’s words, even if I didn’t understand them exactly, made the water in my eyes roll down my cheeks.

  “I can’t compete with Verdella for Reece and Evelyn’s affection. How can I? Verdella is so openly affectionate with Evelyn. As for Reece…oh, Freeda. Just look at me. Look at Reece. How on earth can someone like me keep someone like him?” Ma said.

  Freeda slapped her leg. “Is that what this is about? Your looks? For crissakes, Jewel. Look around once! There’s all kinds of good-looking men paired up with women so goddamn ugly you could puke just by looking at them. You’re not that bad-looking, Jewel. Or you wouldn’t be at all, if you’d loosen up and smile a little, and if you’d fix up a bit. But you feel ugly, and that’s the part that’s hurting you. You got Button feeling ugly too.

 

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