Hi! I got your letter you wrote today. I never got any mail before that was for me. I like the straberrys on your paper. Tell Aunt Helen I said thanks from me for getting you that. Now I will know when I look in the mail box if there is a letter from you.
Daddy is working on the loft at our house. It will have 2 rooms. 1 is for Caleb and 1 is for me. The baby will have my old room and Caleb will finally have his one room insted of sleeping on the sofa. He is helping Daddy bild it. Rite now there is a big hole covered with blue plastick over the living room. Mama hates the mess. But she will be glad to have the loft done. She is sick a lot and she is looking fat in the tummy. Caleb said she looks like she’s been streched out like a rubber band. Mama smacked him on the hed when he said that. He just laffed at her. He sure does make her mad.
That is all from here. Write back to me soon. Tell Tracy and Malinda and Nancy I said HI!
Love your cousin
Reana Mae
P.S. Buttons died, but Mama is so happy, she don’t even care much.
“How’s Reana Mae?” Mother asked when I came downstairs.
“She’s just fine,” I answered, flopping down beside her on the couch.
“Watch out for my yarn,” she warned. I pushed her skeins of yarn aside, brown and gold. She was knitting a sweater for Nancy in the high school’s team colors. Nancy was a varsity cheerleader, and we all went to the basketball games on Friday nights. All of us except Melinda, who told us every week that basketball games were for pork-heads. None of the really cool kids went, she said. Of course, Melinda had not made the cheerleading squad, so her opinion might have been biased.
“Bobby Lee is building the loft, and Reana Mae and Caleb will have their rooms upstairs. Caleb is helping.”
Mother’s brow furrowed slightly. “I wonder how long Caleb will be staying with them?” she said, looking up at my father. He was sitting in his La-Z-Boy watching the evening news.
“Did you say something?” he asked, never taking his eyes from the screen.
“I was just wondering how long Bobby Lee and Jolene are going to have Caleb with them,” she repeated, sighing softly and raising her eyebrows at me. Daddy often didn’t hear us when he was watching the news.
“Hmmm,” he said. Then silence, until Walter Cronkite’s grand-fatherly face was replaced by the Hawaiian Punch man floating on a pineapple in a pool of red punch. Daddy finally turned to Mother. “My guess is, he’s there for good. If Cleda Rae hasn’t come for him by now, she’s not coming.”
He shook his head and ran his hand through his thinning hair. “That whole family is a mess, and it all boils down to Noah. That man ought to be horsewhipped!”
“Jimmy, not in front of Bethany, please.” Mother frowned.
“Oh, Helen, she knows Noah ran out on his family. And she ought to know it’s wrong. Just plain wrong for a man to do that.”
“Is that why Cleda Rae’s got a sugar daddy?” I asked.
“Bethany Marie!” Mother’s shocked face stared at me over knitting needles frozen in mid-stitch. “Where in the world did you hear such a thing?”
“Reana Mae says that’s what Jolene calls Mr. Ephraim Turner,” I murmured, knowing I shouldn’t have told. Then I heard my father snort. Abruptly he rose and walked into the kitchen. A moment later, we heard him laughing.
“Jimmy,” Mother called to him. “Will you take the trash out, please?”
The back door swung shut and we couldn’t hear the laughing anymore.
“Bethany, that is not a term I ever want to hear you use again. It’s crass and rude and inappropriate for a young lady.”
“But Reana Mae said …”
“Reana Mae doesn’t know any better. She hasn’t had the advantages you do, and she hears Jolene talk like that. Jolene ought to know better, too, but then she’s had such a hard life.” Mother sighed heavily. “But you, miss, you do know better. I will not tolerate that kind of talk from you. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said meekly.
She smiled then, so I knew I was forgiven. “What else does Reana say?”
“She said thank you from her for getting me the stationery. She never had a letter before.”
“Well, you’ll have to write to her again.”
“Yes, ma’am, I was just going to do that.”
In fact, I had my box of stationery in my hand and was looking for a quiet place to write. Tracy was upstairs with her friend Lynette, so that was out.
“Would you like to use my desk?” Mother asked.
“Yes, ma’am!” I could hardly believe my ears. She never let us use her desk, or even touch the things on it. It was in her room—the one she shared with Daddy, of course, but we always called it Mother’s room. And that room was off-limits, unless we were sick. Then we slept in Mother’s bed and she brought us 7UP and potato soup and Ritz crackers with cream cheese.
She cleared a place on the desk for me to write, turned on the small hurricane lamp, and left me alone, closing the door behind her. For several moments I simply sat and looked around. It was strange being in Mother’s room when I wasn’t sick in bed. I rose and walked to the vanity. I stared at myself in the mirror, pulling my hair up on top of my head and sucking in my cheeks, the way I’d seen Nancy do. I touched Mother’s jewelry box, wishing I had the nerve to open it.
I picked up a lipstick and opened it, screwing the pale peach waxy stick up and down, up and down. Then I opened all of the perfume bottles and sniffed them, one by one. I knew by smell which ones she wore for what occasions—White Shoulders for church, soft lilac for home, and Chanel No. 5 for special nights out with my father. I wished I could put some Chanel behind my ears, the way my mother did. I imagined myself sitting at this vanity, putting on the peach lipstick and the Revlon powder and dabbing Chanel on my throat and wrists.
I heard Tracy and Lynette clomping down the stairs into the kitchen, Tracy calling to Mother that they were going to Lynette’s and she’d be home for dinner. I sat down at the desk and started writing hurriedly. If Tracy was gone, Mother might want me to go back upstairs. By the time I realized she wasn’t coming for me, I’d written half a page.
February 8, 1970
Dear Reana Mae,
Hi yourself! Thanks for writing to me. I like getting letters, and I like notes too. Do you write notes at school? I write them to my freind Susan Lewis and she writes them to me. We like to fold them in triangels or little squares. But we have to be careful passing them, because if Mrs. Hanson our teacher catches us, it is big trouble! One time, Mrs. Hanson made Susan read her note out loud to the hole class. And it was when Susan had a crush on Don Heizer. So she had to read it out loud, and he heard!!! Boy, was she embarased!
Nothing much is happening here. Fifth grade is really hard. And Mrs. Hanson is really hard. But at least she lets us read good books. I am reading Little Women by Louisa May Alcott (she’s got your middle name!!!), and I really, really love it. Its got a sad part where one of the girls dies. I cried when I read it. But its really good.
Mother is knitting a blanket for Jolene’s baby. It is pink and blue and yellow and green, all soft and pretty. I bet the baby will love it!
Write to me soon.
Love,
Bethany
I proudly folded the letter and addressed the envelope. I had written a whole page and a half. Mother found a stamp and told me I could walk to the mailbox to mail it. That night at bedtime when she gave me my usual kiss on the forehead, she said, “I’m glad you’re writing to Reana Mae. You’re a good friend to her, Bethany. And she needs that.”
I went to bed happy that night.
Two weeks passed before I heard from Reana again. The pale blue envelope was waiting on the kitchen table when I got home from school.
Feb. 26
Dear Bethany,
Im sorry I did not write befor. Things are just awful! Mama lost the baby, and she is so sad I am afraid she mite die! She just stays in bed all day and cries and she don’t want to eat or not
hing. And daddy is gone off to drive the truck to Oragon so he can’t help her. And Caleb is gone too. And mama won’t let granma and granpa come in the house cus she says they make her nervus. So it is just me to help mama. And I don’t know how to.
What happened is last week mama was looking for Caleb cus he was supposed to be at Ida Louis house for his lessons but Ida came and said he never showed up. So mama went hunting for him and she spotted him down by the dock. He had granpa’s knife that was lost, and he was carving a stick with it. So mama got real mad and she started down to get him. But there was ice on the steps and she fell down them—almost the hole way from the top to the bottom. I was at school, but Ida says mama scremed terribel. And then she was bleeding and the baby was born, but it was way to erly for the baby to born and it died. I saw it in the dish pan on the porch when I got home. It wasn’t any bigger than my hand, but it had little tiny hands and feet. It was a boy. Granpa buried it out back. Me and granma put some plastik flowers on the grave from granpa’s store, but mama wouldnt come out there. She just stayed in bed and cried. And she told Caleb he had to go away. She said it is his falt the baby died, cus he is so mean he made her loose the baby. Granma tried to tell her she was being rong headed, but mama would not lissen to her.
So Caleb took his stuff and he left. I dont even know where he went to. Granpa says probably he went to Hunington to find his mama but I dont think that he went to find Cleda becaus he dont like her boyfriend.
Daddy dont even know yet about the baby becus we have not herd from him this week. He will get back from Oragon tomorow or the next day and I think he will be tore up to. Expecially becus the baby was a boy. He reelly wanted a boy. I hope he will not be mad at Caleb to. I hope he goes to find him. I am woried about him. And I am woried about mama. I wish you all were here. I think aunt Helen could help mama more then me.
Write to me soon. And say your prayers for mama to.
Love
Reana Mae
I read the letter twice, my hands trembling. “Mother!” I cried. “Mother, come quick.”
“What is it?” she asked, coming up the stairs two at a time. I guess she could hear the panic in my voice.
I was crying by then. All I could do was hand her the letter. I watched her as she read it. Her face grew very white and still. She looked like a little old woman standing there. Her hand holding the letter shook so that she finally sat down, laid the letter on the bed, and leaned over to read it again. “Dear Lord,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Oh no.”
“Mama,” I whimpered. “Is Jolene gonna be okay?”
She wrapped me in a hug and held me tight while we both cried. “Yes, honey,” she finally said, pushing my bangs from my forehead to kiss me. “Jolene will be okay. And so will Reana Mae. And you know what?”
She stood as she said it.
“What?”
“We’re going down there and make sure they’re okay.”
She said it firmly and quietly. She wasn’t shaking now. She had decided what to do, and she was calm and steady.
“What about school?”
“You’ll just have to miss a few days,” she declared. “Because right now, Jolene and Reana Mae need us, and family comes first. So”—she was walking briskly around the room now—“you need to get some things together. Your pajamas and toothbrush, some clothes and socks and panties. Can you get your things together, Bethany?”
“Yes, Mother.” I was already pulling things out of my drawers. “Yes, I can get my things ready.”
“That’s my good girl.” She was heading down the stairs. “I’ll call the school and see if we can get some work for you to take with us, so you won’t fall behind. And I’ll have to cancel my meeting tomorrow night.” Her voice faded as she walked down the stairs.
“And, Bethany,” she called up from the bottom. “You might just put some of your old books in a bag for Reana Mae. Just a few that you’re done with. I’ll bet Reana could use an escape right now.”
“Yes, Mother!” I began pulling books from the shelves. What would Reana like? Trixie Belden mysteries? Nancy Drew? Definitely Little Women. I was sorting piles of books on the floor when Tracy came up the steps.
“What are you doing?” She stared at the room. My clothes were spread out on the bed. Books were scattered across the floor in small stacks.
“I’m getting some books for Reana Mae,” I answered, not looking up from my work.
“What?”
“Some books for Reana Mae. To take with us.”
Tracy stood for a moment, then pounded down the stairs. “Mother!” I heard her yelling. “Mother, what’s going on?”
A few minutes later, Tracy stormed back up the stairs, her face white, her eyes red, her nostrils flared. I shrank away from her, but she swept past me, flung herself down on her bed, and wailed. I sat uncertainly for a moment, then cautiously walked to the side of the bed.
“Are you okay, Tracy?”
“Leave me alone!”
“Are you crying for the baby?”
She sat up and stared at me, her face twisted in fury. “You just go on down to that hillbilly river, you little bitch. Go on down and be with your trashy twin and her whore mama! I don’t care if you never come back—either one of you! I hate you!”
Then I realized Tracy wasn’t coming with us. Only Mother and I were going. I stood before her silently. I didn’t know what to say. She stared back at me, shaking with rage. Finally, she flung herself down onto the bed again and wailed some more. I returned to my stacks of books, deciding on Beverly Cleary and Nancy Drew. Then I took my clothes and books down to Mother. She was packing in her room. She smiled wanly when I walked into the room, looking pale and very tired.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” She put my clothes in the suitcase with hers and found a bag for the books. Daddy came home then, and I was shooed outside so they could talk. I sat on the back porch glider with our cocker spaniel, Skipper, scratching his soft ears and shivering in the weak March sun until dinner.
We gathered at the kitchen table for supper. Melinda and Nancy were unusually quiet. They had been looking forward to babysitting next summer at the river. Nancy had even been knitting booties. Pink ones, because she was sure the baby was a girl. Tracy’s chair was empty as we bowed our heads for grace. And then, there she was—smiling, laughing, apologizing loudly for being late. She slid into her chair and helped herself to meat and noodles.
“Tracy,” my father began cautiously. “Your mother and I have been talking, and we were wondering if you’d like to spend a few days at Lynette’s while she and Bethany are gone. Would you like that?”
“Oh no, Daddy.” She smiled at him. “If I go to Lynette’s, who will take care of you?”
“Well, Nancy and Melinda will be here,” Mother said.
Tracy cut her off. “Oh, they can’t make tuna noodle casserole like me,” she said with a smile. “Besides, Nancy always has cheer-leading practice, and Melinda has track. I’ll stay here and take care of Daddy.” She fairly beamed at him, her eyes sparkling like an angel’s.
“Well, all right. If that’s what you want to do,” Mother said hesitantly.
“Good, then. That’s settled.” Daddy grinned. “You all go on down and take care of poor Jolene. Tracy will stay here and take care of her old man.”
Nancy and Melinda said nothing, just rolled their eyes at each other. At least their schedules wouldn’t be affected.
I went to bed early that night. Mother and I would leave first thing in the morning. But I couldn’t sleep until I heard Tracy’s even breathing. I was still in shock. Tomorrow, I was going to West Virginia with my mother … just the two of us in the middle of the school year. Would wonders never cease?
8
Spring Storms
We left the house before the sun rose. I sat proudly on the front seat beside Mother, my pillow and blanket bundled around me, and waved to Daddy and the girls as we backed out of the driveway. Tracy’s arm was wrapped thr
ough Daddy’s, and she smiled brightly as we drove down the street. Mother blew a kiss to them, then sighed. “I hope they’ll be all right,” she said.
She turned on the radio to the easy-listening station and reached over to pat my arm. “Why don’t you go back to sleep, sweetheart? It’s early, and we have a long trip ahead of us.”
I snuggled down in my seat, wrapping the blanket around me, and watched the familiar scenery pass. By the time we got on the interstate, I was asleep.
By mid-morning we were following the Ohio River, now catching glimpses of the water, now seeing only the grimy industry that lined the river’s edge. At noon we crossed the Ohio into West Virginia and began following the Kanawha River south. Now the road got rougher, the hills higher, the houses farther apart, and the tobacco barns more ramshackle. We were coming home.
* * *
Aunt Belle threw open the front door and pulled Mother into a hug. Then she reached for me, and I was enveloped in her soft, ample embrace. Belle gave the best hugs I’ve ever had.
“Come in, come in, you two.” She laughed. “Come in out of the cold. Helen, you must be stiff as a rod after that drive. It’s a shame Jimmy couldn’t come with you. Bethany Marie, let me look at you. Lands, child, you’ve grown a foot! Donna Jo, come and lay your eyes on my Bethany. If she ain’t grown a foot, you can call me a nigger! What are we standing here for? Come in, come in.”
Donna Jo appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, smiling warmly. She hugged us, then took our suitcase from the porch and carried it upstairs.
I ran up the stairs and down the long, carpeted hall to the funny little wooden door at the very end. I turned the skeleton key in the lock, opened the door, and ran up the steep steps to the attic room. At the top I stopped and stared happily. This room was my favorite place in the world. It was L-shaped, each side furnished with a small, black iron bed, a bedside table with its own Bible, a three-drawer chest, and a round-backed upholstered rocking chair. Hand-stitched quilts adorned the beds, and a rag rug lay beside each.
Prayers and Lies Page 7
