Homebound

by Kata Čuić

  Daddy squints from his seat at the table. “And what are ya gonna do when all the ladies in Martins Landing flock to ya?”

  “I knew it,” Jesse mutters at my side before raising his voice. “I ain’t likely to notice ‘em on account of your daughter already has me wrapped around her little finger.”

  Daddy nods like this is a perfectly acceptable answer.

  My cheeks burn with embarrassment on multiple fronts.

  Mama pats his shoulder. “Leland, this ain’t an interrogation. It’s supper together!”

  “We’ll see,” Daddy grumbles, gesturing for us to sit down.

  Jesse squeezes my hand before taking his place by Daddy.

  I hesitate in the doorway, feeling guilty. If I’d have known Daddy really did intend for this to be an interrogation, I would’ve told Jesse to run for the hills.

  Jesse gives me the small smile. “Come on, Nora. It’s all right. I can take it.”

  Daddy glares at Jesse and repeats, “We’ll see.”

  We eat in strained silence, no matter how much Mama and I prattle on, trying to ease the tension in the room.

  “Ya suddenly have a problem with my wife’s cookin’?” Daddy eyes Jesse as he slowly cuts up his meatloaf. Daddy’s already on his second plate.

  “No, sir. Just tryin’ to mind my manners instead of actin’ like a hog at a trough.”

  Daddy’s eye twitches. “Are ya sayin’ I eat like a pig?”

  Mama and I exchange a wide-eyed glance. She opens her mouth, but before a single word escapes, Jesse throws his head back and laughs. Hard.

  His bright, shining smile lightens his face. He really is the handsomest man to ever walk the streets of Martins Landing. “Mr. Wheeler, I have nothin’ but the deepest respect for ya. And your daughter. Go on and get it out. If a simple hillbilly like me came for my daughter, I reckon I’d do the same.”

  Daddy’s eyes look ready to pop out of his head. “Don’t you talk to me none about gettin’ my daughter pregnant, boy! I’m liable to hide your body in the woods where even the best coon dogs won’t be able to find it!”

  My supper climbs back up my throat.

  Mama gasps. “Leland! We do not talk like that at the table!”

  Jesse just laughs some more.

  “Finish your supper, boy,” Daddy grinds out. “Then we’re gonna go build a fire.”

  “Ya can’t burn him!” I screech.

  Mama rolls her eyes then starts collecting plates. “He ain’t gonna singe a single hair on Jesse’s body. I thought an after-supper bonfire was a nice idea.”

  Daddy glares at Jesse before he stomps out the back door, calling over his shoulder. “Let’s go!”

  Jesse sneaks a quick kiss to my hand and winks. “It’s fine.”

  “It is not fine,” I hiss. “You were right! You’re always right! He’s fixin’ to kill ya!”

  “He loves ya,” Jesse soothes with a soft voice. “I’m right glad he does. He only wants to make sure I love ya as well as he does. This here is gonna be the easiest test I done ever passed.”

  “How do ya go from shakin’ in your boots when ya first arrived to bein’ as confident as ever?” I whisper, trying to figure out the easiest way to sneak him back out the way he came.

  “I ain’t wearin’ any boots, Nora.” He grins at me. “So long as he ain’t tellin’ me I can’t have ya, then I can handle anything he throws my way.”

  I slump in my chair, watching with heart-pounding fear as Jesse heads out the back door after thanking my mama for a delicious supper.

  “Mama,” I whisper. “Daddy’s gonna kill Jesse.”

  “He ain’t gonna do no such thing.” Mama faces me with a wry smile. “I got a plan to distract him.”

  I’m not sure I like the sounds of that any better than Daddy’s plans. “What’s that?”

  She pulls down the battery-operated radio from the shelf. “We’re gonna go dancin’! It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

  By the time we clean the kitchen and head out back, a fire roars in the pit. Jesse’s body is, thankfully, not thrown over the logs. He’s not on the ground, bleedin’. Daddy ain’t stranglin’ him.

  They’re sittin’ side by side on the bench, watching the flames in silence.

  “Leland!” Mama calls. “I’m in the mood for a dance. Will ya indulge me?”

  “Smooth,” I whisper. “That’s not obvious at all.”

  “Know your place,” she whispers back. “He might be your daddy, but he’s my husband.”

  Much to my surprise, Daddy rises from the bench with a smile then holds his hand out to Mama. “Always, darlin’.”

  I take the seat beside Jesse to watch as they go round and round the fire, song after song. I don’t often get to see them look so young and carefree. Mama’s laughter echoes through the holler. The lines on Daddy’s face aren’t quite so deep even though his smile is wide. He holds her like she’s precious treasure, and she clings to him like he’s her lifeline.

  I lean against Jesse’s shoulder. “That could be us someday.”

  He chuckles. “All except I don’t know how to dance.”

  “I taught ya how to kiss the way you’re supposted to,” I whisper. “I reckon I can teach ya how to dance, too.”

  Long after the fire has died out, none of us have had any luck. Jesse’s stiff as a board.

  “I give up!” He steps away from Mama. “I can’t dance!”

  Daddy narrows his eyes. “Ya gonna give up that easily when Lenore’s drivin’ ya right up the wall durin’ her womanly time?”

  “Daddy!” Fire or no fire, my cheeks burn hotly.

  “Leland,” Mama admonishes, but it’s not very effective. She’s laughing too hard.

  Jesse shakes his head and puts his hands on his hips then sticks his tongue in his cheek. “Ya keep on tryin’ to trip me up, Mr. Wheeler, but fact is I love your daughter. Stubborn, willful, spitfire that she is.”

  “Jesse!” I shriek. If he’s trying to win Daddy over, listing all my faults ain’t the way to go about it.

  He shrugs. “Hey, ya love me, and I ain’t never gonna be able to dance with ya. Seems like a fair trade.”

  Daddy chuckles. “Son, I don’t think ya have any idea what kind of tradin’ you’re signin’ on for.”

  Speech is Silver; Silence is Golden

  If someone doesn’t say something soon, I’m going to fall asleep face down on top of my papers in a puddle of drool.

  Burning the candle at both ends comes with a price. I work my tail off during the day to give my students the kind of education I never had, then I whisk Anne away from the homestead in the evenings to distract her from missing Jesse. After that, I stay up half the night laying out my lesson plans in a way that ensures my students are getting something more than just boredom out of their classes.

  There’s no rest for the wicked, but at least Anne has her own library card, has become a first-grade level reader, and most importantly, she’s sort of forgotten about the half-finished playhouse in the backyard because it’s getting too cold to play outside. She hasn’t, however, stopped crying for her daddy at bedtime. It’s breaking me down a little more every day.

  “Mr. Yates.” The senior-most member of the high school faculty, the vice-principal, steeples his hands. His expression gives nothing away—cool and even—although the set of his shoulders tells another story entirely. “Are ya meanin’ to tell me you’re proposin’ to teach our students how to have sexual relations before they’re wed?”

  We pushed back this meeting a full month to make sure we had the best plans, arguments, and statistics laid out, but all those carefully presented slides on the projector screen seem to be falling on blind eyes.

  “Not at all.” Jesse’s voice rings through the conference room, strong and clear. “I’m proposin’ to keep more of our students in school until they graduate. I’m fixin’ to make sure we don’t have young ladies birthin’ babies before their bodies are mature enough to do so safely. I wanna make su
re our young men aren’t takin’ low-payin’ jobs to support their responsibilities instead of gettin’ an education that’ll further their families in the long run.”

  “Oh, I see.” Even the elementary school faculty has been invited to this after-hours meeting, and Mr. Murphy has not passed up a chance yet to be sure his voice is heard. “So, the way you’re takin’ on Bobbi Sue Eakins’s children as your own is a fine example, ain’t it?”

  Jesse sighs. “Mr. Murphy, the Eakins children are a perfect example of why we need to include this sort of education in our curriculum. I’ve supplied ya with plenty of statistics to show how the cycle of low education and poverty repeats itself. Would ya like a list of the names of the women, children, and men in this community who have been affected by a lack of sexual education in Martins Landing? ‘Cause the list is long, and I’d hate for ya to have to miss your supper on account of listenin’ to me read.”

  A few of the more progressive, level-headed teachers snicker, but the majority of the room bristles at the implication that Martins Landing is anything but a stellar mountain Christian community, full of family values that need no further aid.

  The history teacher who hates even his best students points at Jesse. “Is your own name on that there list? ‘Cause your mama was the finest whore this town ever seen for nigh on twenty years.”

  If I wasn’t so darn exhausted, there might be more force behind my words. “Mind your manners, Mr. Hanna. You’re addressin’ your principal not some hillbilly on the street. If Mr. Yates’s predecessor wasn’t her best customer, then I’d say we let sleeping dogs lie. Seein’ as how he was, I reckon the entire community might benefit from these here lessons. Unless, of course, ya don’t wanna give up your spot on her roster yourself after learnin’ how diseases can be sexually transmitted.”

  The man’s face grows redder than a tomato on the vine, but I’m done holding my tongue. He opens and closes his mouth rapidly before exploding like an overripe fruit. “Them’s fine words from a fornicatin’ hussy who birthed a daughter on the wrong side of the blanket!”

  “That is enough!” Jesse slams his hands on the table, standing in front of his seat and breathing like an angry bull. “Mr. Hanna, were ya born in a barn? ‘Cause ain’t no man fit to be teachin’ in my school who would dare talk to a lady like that. Ya have a duty to educate every child in this here town. How are ya gonna do that if you’re so busy lookin’ down on ‘em? Mind ya right clearly, I better never hear ya talk about Anne nor any other child in this district like that again, or I will end ya myself. And I ain’t talkin’ about your career. Miss Wheeler, mind ya that speech is silver, but silence is golden. If ya don’t have anythin’ productive to add to the conversation, then don’t speak ‘less you’re called upon.”

  Seeing as he’s just called upon me by name, I feel the need to clear the air. “Before ya go makin’ any further accusations, Mr. Hanna, I’d like to remind everyone here that Principal Yates never so much as laid eyes on my Anne until I moved back to town. Ya can’t blame my daughter for her mother’s faults. Mr. Yates’s mama did what she did to keep food in her son’s belly and a roof over his head, but ya can’t hold him accountable for how she was forced to make a livin’ ‘cause she didn’t have enough education to do nothin’ else. In spite of his humble beginnins, the man not only made somethin’ of himself, but he’s tryin’ to help every kid in this town achieve the same. If ya have so much pride in Martins Landing, then I’d think y’all would be more than willin’ to do whatever it takes to give all our kids their best chance of success.”

  A beat of silence precedes the room erupting into arguments about how, exactly, to give our kids their best possible chance.

  Almost none of them include sexual education, but there are some fair ideas about vocational training and drug prevention programs. I jot those down in my notebook like a good little employee.

  By the time I’m dragging my legs up the stairs to my classroom, it’s well past Anne’s bedtime.

  Much faster footsteps echo in the corridor behind me. Jesse pants when he catches up to me. “Where are ya goin’?”

  “To get my purse from my desk, so I can go home.”

  “You’re dead on your feet. Ya ain’t fit to be drivin’. Lemme take ya home.”

  “And be seen climbing into your big truck by one of our fellow teachers? No, thank you. They already don’t think we’re morally qualified to hold our current positions.”

  He chuckles as he keeps step with me through the upstairs hallway. “And there for a hot minute, I thought ya’d found your tongue again.”

  I don’t even have the energy to glare at him. “I was trying to earn favor with the older folks. Figured I’d give your idea of change from within a try. Too bad it didn’t work. I think we made a mistake by presenting it to them in person in such a large group. There were a few silent supporters who would have been more open with valid suggestions had we used an anonymous survey system ahead of time. I also think we need to focus more on pedagogy and less on emotion.”

  He nods as he opens the door to my classroom for me. “Oh, like ya been treatin’ me for the past month. No emotion at all. Sure. ‘Cause that seems to be workin’ out fine for all involved. It’s Thanksgivin’ next week. Christmastime soon enough. Ya ain’t gonna let me see her for the holidays?”

  “You can see her.” I can’t fight anymore. I’m too tired, and I can’t be the one to break Anne’s heart. Not when I could so easily prevent it. I sink into my desk chair, not sure I’ll be able to get back up. I admit on a whisper, “She begs for you every night. I’ve been sentenced to the floor because she misses you when the lights go out.”

  Jesse kneels on the tile beside me and grabs my face in his hands, pulling me close to kiss me firm on the lips. “I know your only aim is to help me, darlin’. I know it right well. Just like ya did at the meetin’. But at what cost? Ain’t nothin’ more important than that little girl’s happiness.”

  Just like my daddy said. Jesse would trade everything he’s worked so hard for. Without even a second thought.

  “I’m being selfish no matter what I choose. If I save you, I hurt her. If I save her, I hurt you.” I shake my head and stare at the framed picture of Anne that sits on my desk. She was only a day old. Liz took all the pictures because I couldn’t even afford anything more than a cell phone that ran on calling cards. “I just wish we hadn’t ended up back in Martins Landing at the same time. None of us would be in this situation at all.”

  He rubs my arm. “For someone who loves stories so much, I’d think ya’d realize this here is fate.”

  “I’ve had a lot of reality in the past five years. I don’t play pretend anymore, and I don’t believe in fairy tales.”

  “Darlin’.” He cups my jaw and turns my gaze back to him. His eyes look as beaten down as I feel. “That might be the most heartbreakin’ thing I’ve heard outta your mouth so far.”

  A little laugh bubbles from my lips. “You were the one who always tried to get me to quit playing pretend.”

  “I was wrong.”

  Eight Years Ago

  “Let’s run away into the mountains where no one’ll ever find us. We done lived our whole lives in the woods. We know what’s good to eat and what’s poison. How to hunt and fish; which water is sweet to drink. We could be happy, Jess. So happy.”

  He perches up on his elbow at my side, the moonlight glistening off his bare chest as he drags an open palm across my breast and down my belly. “Now, how am I gonna build ya a big house, fill your belly with the best foods, and clothe ya in the finest dresses if we go and do that?”

  I laugh as he tickles my side. His smile shines brighter than the noonday sun, and he gifts it to me all the time now. Except at school. He still don’t want his ma’s reputation dragging me down in public. All the more reason for us to escape into the mountains.

  “Ya know I don’t need none of those things. Ya love me, and that’s more than enough.”

  He settle
s beside me again and pulls me close, draping the old quit I made him over us to ward off the chill in the air. “I reckon ya do need those things. Ain’t no shame in enjoyin’ finery. And I ain’t gonna let ya give up what ya really want just to be with me. That’s why I’m goin’ to Marshall, ain’t it? So, I can get a degree and spoil ya the way ya deserve to be spoiled.”

  Jesse kisses his way across my neck, rolling over top of me and loving me in all the right ways to make my moans echo through the hills.

  “I’d give all that up if ya keep doin’ that all night.”

  He rises over me, clear pride shining in his deep-forest eyes. “I reckon if I can learn how to make ya come for me, then I can learn anythin’ Marshall might throw my way.”

  My lips still tingle from his kisses, and my center throbs with want for more even though he’s pleased me so many times already. I’m right terrified this’ll be the last time I ever feel so good in his arms. “Huntington’s a long way from Chicago. Mama and Daddy can’t afford to bring me home for every break.”

  Jesse chuckles and dusts my lips with a feather-soft kiss, so different than the first time. “That worked out well for ya, I reckon. Ya done got so many scholarships for bein’ a miner’s daughter, ya ain’t gonna go into debt to further your education.” He twists his mouth to the side. “I ain’t never figured an expensive private school would offer more aid than a public institution.”

  “That’s why ya should come to Northwestern, too!”

  He gives me the look. I ain’t been on the receiving end of that in some time. “They don’t offer scholarships for sons of sex workers. I’m just right pleased I got a full ride to Marshall on merit as it is.”

  “Then I’ll come to Marshall!” I insist. “My SAT scores were as high yours! My scholarships’ll transfer.”

  “Ya always wanted to live in the big city, and now’s your chance. You’re goin’ to Chicago, and that’s final.”