A hush filtered through the room. Wendy did not move. Someone in the crowd spoke, but the words were muffled by the time they reached ClaireLee. Pushing to her feet, Wendy stood, and from a side view, she was pursing her lips. She took the stage, accepted the blue ribbon, and shook hands with the principal. The room exploded in applause.
With all Wendy’s schooling, she didn’t win grand prize in a backwoods town she felt was beneath her. ClaireLee couldn’t help feeling sorry. What do I deserve? Right then, the log fell from ClaireLee’s eyes. I’ve hurt Belinda, been ashamed of Mama, and lied.
Mrs. Langley’s voice broke through ClaireLee’s confession. “This gold ribbon goes to the grand-prize winner, who is also a sixth-grader.” The room buzzed with questions. “She attends school here because her father is part of the tunnel crew. Judges feel certain she deserves this award. Her attention to detail, the art of taking nonfiction and making it read like a story, and her make-believe but lively characters pushed the judges to choose”—the principal paused—“from Oregon, Miss ClaireLee Monteiro.”
I won? ClaireLee slapped her hands over her mouth.
Belinda nudged ClaireLee. “Go on, Claire, get your ribbon.” She leaned in close. “Ya showed them. Ya beat the Lavender Girls, glamour girl.”
Mama’s lips spread wide enough to show her teeth, and ClaireLee waved at her. Nearly floating to the front of the stage, her emotions swelled. She reached Mrs. Langley and the gold ribbon. All dignity left Wendy’s face as it puffed red with disgust.
Standing before Mrs. Langley, ClaireLee straightened to her full four-foot-eight height. She had never in her whole life received an award. This is what it feels like? Recognized.
Mrs. Langley handed over the ribbon to ClaireLee. “Congratulations, Miss Monteiro,” she said. “Would you like to tell us a little about your report?”
ClaireLee pressed the ribbon to her chest, while Mrs. Langley shortened the microphone stand. Her audience waited, and the words to a song came to her mind: “All things are possible; only believe.”
“I”—She cleared the frog from her throat—“I wrote about the log river drivers who worked on the Rushing River. They collected logs, storing them in a pond near the cabin where I live.” Her throat went dry, but she willed herself to continue. “After the pond became full of logs, the men moved them by sleighs led by mules. They dumped the logs into the river to float them downstream to a sawmill near the riverbank.” She shrugged her shoulders. “This is about it.”
Clapping, whistling, and “way to go” filled the room, and her heart pumped faster with pleasure. She and Mama locked eyes. Clapping, Mama stood, her mismatched bedclothes in full view.
The air left her lungs, and ClaireLee’s limbs froze. She wanted to begin anew and show her broken mother she loved her no matter the problems. But this. In an effort to stay calm, ClaireLee counted the stage lights above her head. After six, there were no more.
Mama stuck two fingers between her lips and whistled.
Groaning, ClaireLee waited for the crowd to calm.
Suddenly, someone yelled, “Would you sit down, lady?” Kaye Tyner was cupping her hands around her mouth as she spoke, and then pointed at Mama. “You’re humiliating yourself.”
All color drained from Mama’s face.
This does it. ClaireLee made fists.
Mama stared down at Feather in Grandma Neecy’s arms. Without warning, she bolted, her boots clopping across the floor, and she disappeared through the open cafeteria doors.
ClaireLee gripped the microphone and hollered, “Mama. Come back.” The doorway stayed empty. She glared at the person who caused her mama to run. ClaireLee snapped her teeth together, seething with anger. Into the microphone, she said, “Kaye Tyner, you are a hateful bully.”
29
BE CALM MY SOUL
* * *
Like a stutter, Kaye’s head wobbled, and her face lost the haughty expression. A few chairs from Kaye, a man made his way toward her.
Mr. Tyner.
“Thank you all for coming tonight.” ClaireLee doubted anyone heard Mrs. Langley. Obviously flustered, her hands shook as she took the microphone from ClaireLee. “Let’s give our students a round of applause.”
People clapped, and Mr. Tyner grabbed Kaye’s arm and hauled her out the doors.
Her gait wooden, Wendy left the stage.
Tears stung the bridge of ClaireLee’s nose. I’ve got to apologize. Leaving, also, she walked down the stage steps, where Belinda met her halfway.
“I’m sorry for not telling you I joined the club.” ClaireLee touched the stray hairs near Belinda’s face. “It was a lie, I know it now. I realized later I knew all along you’d be angry.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve got to tell Mama some things. Will you and your grandma take the kids to the cabin?”
Belinda nodded. “Boy, howdy, ya let Kaye have it good.” She slammed a fist into her palm. “Yeah, it was great.”
ClaireLee pushed back a chuckle. “Just give me a fifteen-minute head start, so I can be alone with Mama at the cabin.”
Belinda planted hands on ClaireLee’s shoulders, and showed her teeth. “All’s forgiven.”
“Thanks, B.” ClaireLee ran to the doorway.
Mrs. Reed met ClaireLee in the hall. “Here.” She held a flashlight in her hand. “I overheard you say you would go to your mother. I’ll check on you both in half an hour when I’m through here.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” ClaireLee hurried by her, but stopped. She hurried back and kissed her teacher on the cheek.
* * *
* * *
The flashlight’s glow bounced. ClaireLee jogged away from the school lights and on past Holcomb’s Market. She stumbled into a dried mud hole, but caught her balance. Slowing her pace on the driveway, she paused. No lights in the cabin. Catching her breath, she opened the door and flipped on a switch. She went into Mama’s bedroom.
No Mama. Silly, she knew, but she opened the closet and there was still no Mama. She peeked under Mama’s bed. The bathroom was empty. She checked under her own bed, but only two clothes boxes sat there—one marked “girls” and one “boys.” Falling backward on the bed, she said, “Where are you?”
Think, think.
With a jump, she sprang up and ran out the door, sprinting to the pond, calling, “Mama? Please, Mama, answer me.” Bullfrogs croaking around the pond grew faint as she hurried the way she came. Just in case, she shook all doors and windows of the cabin next door. For good measure, she shone the flashlight through the glass windows.
Wandering to the back of the cabin, the Rushing River’s roar pierced the air as usual. “Where are you?” She bowed her head. “Dear God, please show me where to find Mama.” She waited and listened. “In Jesus’s name I ask. Amen.”
Why does Daddy always work late when I need him?
* * *
* * *
Nowhere else to search, she walked a fast pace on the path to the riverbank. It made no sense to do this. Mama hated the river and its raging noise. She made sweeping motions with Mrs. Reed’s flashlight. At the end of the trail, ClaireLee sighed. Tired and cold, she followed the river’s border a short distance upstream. Sprays of water soaked her clothes, and she trembled.
ClaireLee made a funnel out of her hands and hollered, “Maaaammmmaaa.” Swerving, she moved downstream along the bank in unfamiliar territory. With careful steps, she shone the light back and forth. A limbless battered tree had fallen in the direction of the river. Curious, she shone the light to follow the length of the tree as it jutted over the river. Her knees wobbled. “There you are.”
Of course, Mama couldn’t hear her.
Curled like a kitten, Mama lay long ways at the edge of a log, with no room to move around. ClaireLee’s hands shook, and she cupped her mouth. “Mama, don’t fall.” She tipped her head to the sky and said, “God, please help us.”
After a long minute, ClaireLee tucked the flashlight under her chin. She pulled off her skirt and k
icked it away with a fur-lined boot. Stripped down to a blouse and her cotton tights, she kneeled on the log and crawled. Holding the flashlight, the rough bark pressed into her knuckled hand and her knees, and her tights kept snagging. Above the noise of waves hitting boulders, she yelled, “Mama, I’m coming. You stay put. I’m almost there.”
Right arm draped over her head, Mama didn’t move. Crawling closer to her, ClaireLee felt the log tremble beneath her. Rotten. ClaireLee became nauseated. She was soaked, cold, and suspended over a raging river. Keep my eyes on the log. Don’t let me shake, Lord. She inched along. Mama shivered on her log bed. ClaireLee’s knee hit the stub of a limb. Pain ripped through her leg. Keep going.
Estimating ten more crawl steps, ClaireLee shook from the wet and cold. “Mama, I’ll help you.” She counted in her mind, one, two, three, four. “Can you hear me, Mama?” Her mother’s hand lifted. Five, six, seven, eight. “I can almost reach you.” Nine, ten, eleven. Fingers moved to touch her mother, but she pulled back, afraid she would scare her into the river.
“I’m behind you, Mama. Move your boot toward me, and I’ll touch it.”
After waiting for what seemed like hours, Mama inched back her foot. ClaireLee grabbed hold of Mama’s heel. “You can do this, Mama.”
Sloth-like, Mama came.
“Keep going.”
Mama stopped and ClaireLee said, “Pretend you’re an inchworm and come to me.”
ClaireLee scooted and Mama inched—scoot, inch, scoot, and inch. Mother followed daughter, and each time they moved another crawl, ClaireLee patted Mama’s boot heel.
On land and safe from the shoreline, ClaireLee tumbled backward on the ground. Mama fell on top of her, forcing the air right out of her. “Ma,—” ClaireLee choked with a sputter, “I can’t—”
Mama rolled, and ClaireLee lay on her back, inhaling air into her lungs.
Nestling into ClaireLee’s side, Mama said, “I’m sorry, Claire. Sorry for everything.”
Mama’s speaking. Mama’s holding me. She does love me. Placing her hand over Mama’s, ClaireLee said, “I’m so sorry, too.”
* * *
* * *
There they waited, until ClaireLee moved to help them both up. Someone shouted, “Claire, where are you?”
She curled into Mama’s embrace, giving in to exhaustion. “We’re saved.” Her mother wept. “Shh, Mama, we’re okay now.” Part of a song flowed from ClaireLee’s lips, “My strength and guide. . .”
A light shone on them. ClaireLee closed her eyes. Mrs. Reed yelled, “I found them. Here. Over here.”
Pressing her cheek to Mama’s, ClaireLee’s tears dripped to the forest ground.
30
SWING LOW, SWEET CHARIOT
* * *
ClaireLee cradled the bowl of hot pinto bean soup, making her way to where Mama sat at the table. Mama’s eyes longingly stared at the food. “Claire, you’ve been spoiling me for two days now since”—she blushed—“well, since you saved me.” She grabbed ClaireLee’s now-free hand, sandwiched in-between her own, and gazed at her.
Warmth filled ClaireLee’s chest. “I’m glad you feel better, Mama. And remember what the doctor said. You need lots of rest, but also exercise. After you’re done eating, we’ll go for a short walk while it’s still light.” ClaireLee kissed Mama’s lips and went back to putting away leftovers from the evening meal.
Stealing a peek at Mama, ClaireLee’s brows furrowed. Mama was sick. An infection made her tired, being tired scared her, and her nerves got the best of her. Daddy was right about Mama’s emotions, but this wasn’t all. Mama had lost a lot of blood at Feather’s birth. ClaireLee sighed, rinsing out the dirty dishcloth. Of course, Grandma Neecy had insisted Daddy take Mama to the doctor. If he didn’t, Grandma Neecy threatened to haul Mama to Redden, herself, and take her in to her own doctor.
The boys banged the screen door behind them. “We did it, ClaireLee,” Grayson said.
“Okay, get your baths out of the way, so the rest of us can take one later.”
Mama motioned the boys to her side, and they stood before her. “What did my guys go and do?”
Saying nothing, Grayson hung back, but Liam said, “ClaireLee wanted us to go to the market and change the clothes over to the dryer.”
“My little men are growing up.” Mama beamed, and ClaireLee’s brothers puffed out their chests. Mama hugged them. “Now do what Claire says and get your baths.”
Taking Mama’s empty bowl to the sink, ClaireLee said, “I’ll tell Lolly we’re ready.” She found Lolly in Mama’s room, singing a song to the baby. “Honey, he’s already asleep. No need to keep singing.” ClaireLee wiggled her hand. “Let’s go for a walk with Mama.”
Slipping her fingers through ClaireLee’s, Lolly went with her sister. Mama stood and Lolly said, “You ready, Mama?”
Mama reached for Lolly’s other hand, and they stepped out onto the porch in the early evening dusk.
* * *
* * *
On Sunday morning, ClaireLee and her family hustled and scurried to finish dressing. They had to make a fifty-minute drive to worship with a small church group in Big Bear Falls. ClaireLee still had to do most of Mama’s work, but now she didn’t mind at all. Walking with Mama the last few days had been a pleasure, their special time together. Mama had appeared happier after their jaunts.
Now, as they drove to their first church service since they’d moved to Gallagher Springs, Daddy said, “After worship I’m taking us to pizza.” ClaireLee’s siblings clapped and hoorayed, and Grayson said he couldn’t wait. She could wait. ClaireLee liked pizza, but what she needed was to hear a preacher’s sermon. And she loved to sing hymns.
“Okay,” Daddy said, “I have a surprise to tell you after we order our pizza.”
Before ClaireLee could stop the words, she said, “Oh, I can’t wait, Daddy. I love surprises.” Then she blushed. How silly I sound. I’m old enough to not blurt.
Her siblings made their comments, playing the guessing game of what the surprise could be. The fir and pine trees swished by ClaireLee’s side of the car window. The baby fussed, and Mama crooned soothing words. When he didn’t stop crying, Mama made movements ClaireLee knew all too well—Feather’s second breakfast was coming right up.
Arriving at the building with a small steeple, ClaireLee and her family filed inside and entered the pew closest to the door. People were singing a hymn, and ClaireLee recognized it right away. “Swing low, sweet chariot, comin’ for to carry me home. . .”
After the song ended, the preacher said, “If everyone would take a minute for silent prayer, I’ll end with one out loud.”
ClaireLee bowed her head. She thanked the Lord for making her family a family again. And, Father, please help me to be patient about going back home to Oregon. I still believe we should be there instead of here. Mama would be happier in her own home. I don’t always agree with Daddy’s decisions, and I know he does what he feels is best. In Jesus’s name, I pray. Amen.
Having spoken the truth of how she felt, ClaireLee leaned against Mama’s shoulder and waited for the preacher to speak. ClaireLee didn’t mean to, but she fell asleep and missed the entire sermon.
* * *
* * *
ClaireLee held Lolly’s and Grayson’s hands as she entered Logger’s Pizza. The aroma of yeasty bread and pepperoni filled the restaurant. Lolly said way too loud, “Sissy Pie, I want some root beer.”
“Hush, Lolly.” ClaireLee wiggled Lolly’s hand as she scolded. “I do, too, but Daddy will decide if we can afford soda pop.”
Their family found the largest table and settled into it. Daddy took the baby from Mama and said, “ClaireLee, come with me, and we’ll order.”
She quickstepped to follow Daddy. “May I hold Feather?”
Daddy’s eyes danced as he gave him to her. “You and your nicknames, Claire Bear.” He read the menu on the wall.
Tugging on his shirt, ClaireLee said, “You and your nicknames. Please call m
e just Claire.”
The lady behind the counter said, “What’ll you have?”
“We will take two large Logger’s Specials, two pitchers of root beer, and six glasses.”
Did Lolly hear this? No, she was too busy placing napkins at each person’s place.
While they waited at the table for their food, Daddy folded his hands. “Okay, everybody listen. The surprise is”—he glanced at Mama, and she laughed—“the tunnel’s almost done, and we’re leaving next week.”
“Honest, Daddy?” If ClaireLee’s heart could laugh, it wouldn’t be able to stop. “We’re going home.”
He winked. “Honest.”
One of the children clapped, and ClaireLee clapped until soon everyone was clapping. Lolly sang, “We’re going home, we’re going home.”
After their pizza came, ClaireLee ate like a hungry bear, and it was the best meal in forever.
* * *
* * *
On Monday, ClaireLee skipped a few steps on their way to school. Liam tagged ClaireLee’s back. “Beat ya to school, ClaireLee.” He shot ahead of her.
“Why, you squirt.” ClaireLee chuckled and reached him in no time. She raised her voice, “No one younger than me beats me in a race. Ever.” She zoomed past, giggling. Grayson was a long distance behind Liam. Ah, shucks, I better wait for him.
ClaireLee slowed to a walk, and Liam met up with her. “You know, ClaireLee, it’s great to have our old mama back.”
Just Claire Page 19
