Ellen was alone on the porch swing. Tom waved as he cleared the magnolias and then extended his arms to the side in a what-in-the-world? motion. His wife neither answered nor acknowledged his presence. That’s when Tom knew it was bad. It was bad, and it was his fault.
He climbed the front steps and sat on one of the rockers near the swing—close enough to talk, far enough to give Ellen space. Beyond the fence, the sun turned bright orange as it neared the mountaintops. The reporters snapped their pictures and spoke into their cameras, live from the small town of Hillbilly Hell, Virginia. Leah had been right. They were wolves, growling and sniffing and caring not what they devoured. Ellen sat with one leg under her and the other pushing against the wooden porch. The swing squeaked as it moved forward and back. Her gaze was outward toward the road. She fondled the crystal hanging from her neck. An open bottle of wine and an empty glass sat on the table beside her.
“What in the world is going on?” Tom asked.
Far below, across the street, the Norcrosses’ neighbor—Ed Broomfield, Tom thought, though he wasn’t sure the name was right—opened his door long enough to shout at the reporters. He retreated when the reporters turned their cameras and microphones on him, but not before offering them a gesture Tom was glad Leah wasn’t there to see.
“Does that mean all this matters to you, now that your day at work is over?” Ellen asked.
“Ellen.”
She shook her head. “No, Tom. I’m not going to say I’m sorry this time. You’re not going to say you’re sorry this time either. We needed you there, but you couldn’t. No,” she said, holding a finger in the air as if she’d just touched upon some greater truth, “you wouldn’t. Because that stupid news conference was during business hours, and that’s when Dr. Tom Norcross puts on his Superman costume to save the world, one paranoia at a time.” She shook her head. Tom readied himself. “You and your hero complex. You have to heal the hurt. You have to change people. You ever think Leah and I need a hero too?”
Tom searched for words that would be enough to explain that the gash in his heart was just as wide as the one in Ellen’s own, but he could not. The weight upon them was too heavy, the gulf between them too wide.
All he could manage was, “I had a two-bag day.”
Ellen’s eyes blinked. She nodded and said, “My day wasn’t sunshine and cotton candy.”
“Where’s Leah? She called me before I left.”
She pointed to the window behind her. “In her room trying to forget what happened.”
“I just thought it wouldn’t be a big deal. You and Leah could go, Barney would get his picture taken, end of story. What happened?”
She chuckled and pointed toward the road. “That look like the end of the story to you, Tom? And Leah wasn’t just sitting in the crowd while Barney got his picture taken either. He wanted her up there with him, getting her picture taken. Allie too, and poor dear Mabel. What was he thinking?”
Ellen trailed off and shook her head. Mr. Broomfield appeared outside his front door again, this time armed with more than his finger. Tom didn’t know if the shotgun the old man waved was loaded or not. There were volleys of shouts and curses from him to the wolves. Tom heard one of the reporters mention Sheriff Barnett and thought he heard Mr. Broomfield say that was a fine idea.
“And then what?”
“And then Barney starts talking about Leah’s painting and how the numbers he picked were in there, and then they started asking Leah all sorts of questions. She was so scared, Tom.”
“Why didn’t you get her out of there?” he asked, and then regretted asking it, knowing the reply would be, That was supposed to be your job.
“I started to, but then Allie told them that Leah didn’t paint the numbers, the rainbow man did.”
Tom’s head dropped into his hands. “Oh no.”
“Oh no’s right. Now half this town thinks our little girl’s got a direct line to God. The phone’s been ringing nonstop, the reporters followed us here. That’s why I parked the car at the end of the lane. Just to keep—”
She jumped at a rustle from the bushes on the side of the house and reached out for Tom’s hand. In one thought he was thankful to take it, and in another he was sure that a parked car at the end of the lane would never be enough to beat back a pack of hungry wolves, especially so close to the six o’clock news. The shrubs parted. What peered out wasn’t a camera-clad reporter, but a nervous old man.
“Hiya, Tom,” Barney said. “Ellen. Sorry to slink up on y’all like this, but as you can prolly imagine, I’m tryin’ to fly under the radar at the moment.” He looked down to the road and shook his head. “Tried to call. Reckon your phone’s been about as occupied as ours.”
“Barney,” Ellen said, “come on out of those shrubs.”
“No’m,” he said, “I ain’t gonna. Those reporter people down there’ll pitch a fit if they see me with y’all. I’m just gonna stay right here, if that’s okay.”
“Where’s Mabel?” Tom asked.
As if on cue, a squeaky “I love you” came from the bushes.
“She’s here behind me,” Barney said. “Weren’t much trouble gettin’ here, though I’m a bit winded from all the skulkin’. How’s little Leah?”
“She’s fine,” Tom said. He ignored the look Ellen gave him. “She’s resting in her room.”
Barney nodded and looked at Ellen. “Sorry that ended so bad up at the park, Ellen. I was just tryin’ to give credit where credit’s due, which I reckon’s why I’m here. Half that money’s comin’ your way when I cash in me an’ Mabel’s ticket.” He patted the chest pocket of his overalls. “It’s safe, don’t want y’all to worry.”
Ellen said, “Barney, we don’t want any money. That’s yours to keep.”
Tom agreed. “We didn’t have anything to do with that, Barney.”
“Well, maybe not so much y’all as Leah,” Barney said. “An’ maybe not so much her as that Rainbow Man Allie talked about. I didn’t know all that, by the way. I know they were sayin’ Leah saw a spirit at the party. I thought they was just playin’. They weren’t. Your little girl’s got the magic, Tom.”
Tom thought of Meagan and the tears her God caused her to shed—one bag’s worth at least. He wondered if Barney would call that magic as well.
“Barney,” he said.
The old man held up his hand through the bushes as if he were about to wave good-bye and disappear into another world.
“I know, Tom. But I’m speakin’ the truth here. She shown me God ain’t harsh, an’ that might be a bigger miracle than even them numbers. Me an’ Mabel’s gonna be okay now. The Rainbow Man says so. My day’s come.”
“Please keep it, Barney,” Ellen said. “Yours and Mabel’s good fortune is enough payment for us. Tom’s worked hard and sacrificed a lot”—she gave her husband a look that said too hard and too much—“to give us a good life. We don’t need more than we have.”
Barney shook his head and sighed in a way Tom found familiar. He’d heard at least five of those same sighs and seen five same shakes of the head that day at work.
“Everybody wants my money except for the folk I really wanna give it to,” he said. “Me an’ Mabel’ll leave y’all alone now. And please tell Leah I’s sorry. Say bye now, Mabel.”
“I love you,” Mabel called.
Barney shrank back into the bushes. Tom had no idea how he would cart a stricken woman back to the Treasure Chest without anyone seeing him, but he figured if anyone knew the back corners of Mattingly it would be Barney Moore, the richest man in town.
“I fuh-forgive you, Mr. Buh-Barney.”
Tom and Ellen looked toward the door but saw no one.
“Hey there, Puh-Pops.”
“Where are you, Leah?”
“Oh-over here in m-my room.”
Tom and Ellen looked. Sometime between Barney and Mabel’s arrival and departure, Leah had raised her bedroom window. A mass of black hair and the top of a colorless forehead
peeked over the sill.
“I duh-don’t want the wuh-wolves to s-see me,” she said. “It was bad, Puh-Pops, like I tuh-told you.”
“I’m sorry, Leah-boo. I truly am.”
“I’m m-mad.”
“I know. I should have been there.”
“Nuh-not about that,” Leah’s forehead said. “You suh-said you d-didn’t want that muh-money.”
“We don’t need that money, Leah,” Ellen said.
Leah’s voice lurched and spasmed as her words came. Tom could hear her frustration, not at her lack of clarity but at his and Ellen’s lack of belief. She said they had told Mr. Barney no not because they didn’t want the money but because they didn’t believe him. But what Mr. Barney said was right, and Allie had been right too. The Rainbow Man was real. And not only that, he was in there with her singing at that very moment, singing that Ellen kind of believed but not really and Tom not at all, but that they both had to trust the Maybe. She said soon a lot of people would trust, because the Rainbow Man wanted her to paint another picture.
By the time Leah’s breath had run out, the window screen was pocked with bits of saliva that her stutters had sprayed. She finished with, “And thuh-that’s all I have t-to suh-say about that r-right nuh-now.”
Her forehead disappeared beneath the screen, replaced by two bony arms that slowly closed the window.
Tuesday
Four Days Before the Carnival
1
Allie was old enough to understand that introducing someone to the Higher Things wouldn’t be all sunshine. There was bound to be some clouds thrown in too. But she never thought she would have to sacrifice her morning cartoons.
She planned to check on Leah later in the day after spending the morning down at the Treasure Chest with her momma. Mr. Barney had called earlier to say there was a crowd at the door already, and these were paying customers rather than prying newspeople. He was going to need some help, and Mary had seized the chance. Allie’s momma was like that, always eager to lend an ear to listen or a hand to help. But then Miss Ellen called just as the milk was going over Allie’s Cheerios, and what Allie was hearing made her realize breakfast with the Roadrunner and Wile E. would have to wait.
“Sure, she can come over,” Mary said. She held the phone in one hand and one of her favorite pink Nikes in the other. “I was going to Barney’s anyway, so I guess we’ll just meet you there? . . . Oh, okay, then . . . No, it’s no problem. Are you all right, Ellen?”
On the television, Wile E.’s most recent scheme to nab the Roadrunner backfired. He sprouted wings and floated heavenward into a cartoon sky. Allie didn’t think that seemed right. If anyone deserved the torment of eternal hell, it would have to be that mean old coyote. She set her bowl on the coffee table beside the folded morning newspaper. Allie had read all of Trevor Morgan’s article earlier—“Local Man Wins Lottery with Miracle Painting.” Allie was pleased that Leah and the Rainbow Man had been given just as much space as Barney himself.
“I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for y’all,” Mary said. “Try not to worry, though. This will all blow over. It always does.” She looked at Allie and walked from the living room into the kitchen—an old trick that never worked. Allie lowered the volume on the television and heard, “If you don’t mind, can I ask if it’s . . . like the other?” There was a pause, followed by an “Oh my gosh” that made Allie smile. The Rainbow Man must have sung again. She turned the volume back up and picked up her bowl as Mary said good-bye.
“Leah made another picture, didn’t she?” Allie asked.
“Yes. Did you know about that?”
“No’m. But I reckon the Rainbow Man said it was time, and Leah’s obliged to honor the magic.”
“Mrs. Norcross wants you to come over. Leah says she has to take her picture over to Barney’s, but she won’t go unless you’re with her. Wants you to maybe spend the night too.”
“You don’t mind?” Allie asked.
“No. I’ll see you at the Treasure Chest, and I’m mostly fine with you staying there.”
Allie let her spoon tinkle against the bowl in her lap. “What do you mean, ‘mostly’?”
“Let’s just say I think they’ll all be better if there’s someone else around. I’ll call your daddy at work, but I’m sure he won’t mind. Go pack some clothes and your toothbrush. And Ellen said Dr. Norcross is going to blow up the swimming pool, so pack your bathing suit too.”
The swimming part more than made up for a morning sans Looney Tunes. Allie turned off the television and announced, “All right, then.”
Allie understood her momma thought that Leah’s Maybe was more like Leah’s Probably Not. She also knew that what mattered to her momma was that Allie was helping Leah just as Mary was helping Mr. Barney. They spoke of many things on their drive to the Norcross home, of summer and dreams and fears, and at one point Allie almost confessed the kiss she’d shared with Zach. Then she thought against it. That was the sort of thing you took out once and could never put back in.
Two-thirds of the Norcross family was on the porch when Mary drove up the lane. Ellen’s purse was already slung over her shoulder. Leah waved to Allie with the hand attached to her bad thumb. The other held another rolled-up piece of paper. She did not smile. Allie wondered how anyone could look so sad with God standing near. Mary rolled down her window and said good morning as Ellen and Leah made their way down the steps toward Ellen’s car.
“Hi, Muh-Missus Granderson,” Leah said.
She walked past and cast a look in Allie’s direction that said Help me with no stutter at all. Allie kissed her momma good-bye, grabbed her bag of clothes, and got out of the car.
“Sure you’re okay?” Mary asked Ellen.
“I’m fine,” she said, but Allie thought Miss Ellen looked just as tired as Leah. Tired but braced. “Tom will be fine too. Between the craziness here and all the craziness at work, he has a lot on him.”
“I think you all do,” Mary said. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
“Thank you.”
More was said, but Allie was no longer interested. She opened the door of Miss Ellen’s Lexus and climbed inside. The air was sticky and thick with the smell of coconut from the freshener dangling off the radio knob.
“Hey there,” she said. “Brought my bathin’ suit so we can swim later. Thanks for askin’ me over. You okay?”
Leah said yes, but Allie knew it was a fib and thought she knew why. She jumped up from the seat and excused herself.
“I ain’t squishin’ him, are I?”
“Nuh-no,” Leah said. “He can fuh-fit anywhere. It’s Puh-Pops. He’s not coming wuh-with us. He duh-doesn’t believe me. Buh-but I bet if I wuh-was a crazy puh-person in his buh-big fancy office in the suh-city, he’d buh-lieve me thuh-then. If you luh-love some things t-too much, you duh-don’t have luh-love left fuh-for anything else.”
Allie wondered what kind of daddy would do such a thing and thought love didn’t have much to do with it. “Did you tell him that?”
Leah shook her head. “Suh-some things p-people are suh-posed to nuh-know without being t-told.”
Ellen finished talking with Mary and walked toward the Lexus with a surety Allie could never recall seeing in Leah’s momma.
“I believe you,” she told Leah. “And I’ll help you too. What’d he tell you to draw this time?”
Leah unrolled the sheet of paper and spread it over her chest. Allie tried to take in the scene all at once but couldn’t.
“Awesomesauce,” she whispered. She looked from the page to Leah’s face. “Are they—”
“Yuh-yes,” Leah said. “I guh-guess this t-time it’s not juh-just Mr. Buh-Barney that can s-see them, everyone can.”
Allie tried looking at the page again. She tried to see and understand.
“Do you know what this means, Leah?”
“Nuh-no.”
“It means this whole town’s gonna go batty.”
Ellen shut the do
or and asked, “Ready?” She didn’t wait for an answer. The Lexus backed out of its spot by the garage and wound its way down the lane. Allie turned and looked through the back window. Mr. Doctor stood at the front door and watched them go.
“Puh-Pops sure seemed muh-mad,” Leah said. “You duh-didn’t even say good-buh-bye, Muh-Mommy.”
“He’s fine,” Ellen told her. “Let’s not worry about that. We have important things to do.”
Allie mouthed a We? in Leah’s direction. Leah shrugged.
“You okay back there, Allie?”
“Yes’m, right as rain.”
The streets were empty. That wasn’t much different from any other summer weekday, Allie thought. Most people were either already at work or hiding from the heat. Some, she reckoned, were hiding from the reporters as well. There didn’t seem to be any of them out and about either, though. It was as if the town itself had inhaled and was waiting to blow.
“Look over there,” Ellen said. She pointed to the marquee in front of the Mattingly Rescue Squad building. TOWN CARNIVAL JUNE 25 was placed on top, and below that CONGRADULATIONS BARNEY AND LEAH!!! “Isn’t that wonderful, Leah? I mean, they spelled part of it wrong, but they got your name right.”
“Awesomesauce,” Allie said. She craned her neck to see if the sign had been replicated on the other side. It had. “Wow, Leah. You’re famous now. Havin’ your name on the sign is even better than havin’ TV people ask you stuff.”
Leah remained still. Her hands were folded around the painting in her lap. Ellen looked through the mirror. Allie shrugged at her.
“Leah, what’s wrong, honey?” Ellen asked. “Are you still upset about Pops?”
“Nuh-no,” came the answer.
“Good. We’re almost there.”
They continued on, past the church and under the carnival sign stretched across the road. Through the park’s iron fence posts, the rough outline of booths and rides being set up popped into view. Strangely, no one was working yet.
When Mockingbirds Sing (9781401688233) Page 12
