He shrugged and looked kind of bumfuzzled. I put my ruby in a plastic bag and set to work scooping and sieving again.
Uncle Beau sat on the tailgate of the pickup, swinging his legs and scratching Jake. Every now and then, he called over to us, “How y’all doing?”
I’d hold up my bag and show the rubies I had. Not too many Mostly little tiny ones. Rupert’s bag had all kinds of rocks in it. Might have been a ruby or two in there, but I wasn’t going to tell him.
Suddenly Rupert yelled, “I got one!” so loud it scared the bejeezus out of me. Made everyone in the ruby mine look at us. Rupert held up a rock big as a golf ball.
The man who works there came running over with his eyes wide and his mouth open.
“Lookee here, folks,” he said, pointing to Rupert’s ruby “Look at the size of this ruby!” He held his hand out to Rupert. “Let me shake your hand, mister, cause today’s your lucky day.”
Rupert nearly pumped that guy’s arm plumb off and held up the ruby for everyone to see.
Uncle Beau came over and took the ruby. Rolled it around in his hands. Held it up to the light. “Sure looks like a ruby,” he said.
“That’s cause it is a ruby,” the man said. “That one’s worth a bunch, that’s for sure.”
“How much?” Uncle Beau asked.
“Well, it’s hard to say, lest it was cut.” The man talked real loud so everyone could hear. “But I know this, I ain’t seen a ruby this big in a long time. Just goes to show, you buy enough buckets, you’re bound to get a big one sooner or later.”
“Well, now,” Uncle Beau said. “Maybe we don’t want to get it cut. How much is it worth then?”
“Ain’t worth a milk bucket under a bull,” the man said. “You got to get it cut.”
“Where would we get it cut?”
“Right here, mister. Right here.” The man took the ruby and examined it, then whistled and shook his head. “This here’s a beauty, all right. Since I ain’t seen one this nice before, I’ll give you a deal. Eighteen hundred bucks.”
Uncle Beau let out a “pffft” and waved his hand. “You must have me mixed up with a fool, mister,” he said.
The man shrugged. “Have it your way. Lowest I could go is fifteen hundred. Ain’t nobody in North Carolina’d cut that stone for less than that. I expect that ruby’d be worth five or six times that after it was cut.”
I watched this scene with a growing feeling of upset. I’d been to this ruby mine about a billion times before, scooping and sieving for hours, and ain’t never found a ruby come close to that one. Now along comes Rupert B. Goody, too dumb to know left from right or up from down, finds himself a ruby like that. I clenched my teeth real tight and shot Rupert a look.
I was almost hoping Marny was right. She was all the time telling me the ruby mine stayed in business thanks to fools like me. “You’re so stupid I can’t hardly believe it, Jennalee,” she says to me. “Them rubies ain’t worth nothing, cut or not. You think them crooks would be putting priceless rubies in a bucket of dirt? Get real, Jennalee.”
Still, when I saw that big ruby in Rupert’s hand, I couldn’t stop myself from feeling eat up with jealous.
Uncle Beau patted Rupert on the back. “Well, I guess you got yourself something worth holding on to.”
Rupert nodded and put the ruby in the pocket of his overalls.
The ride home was long and quiet. I watched the signs along the roadside go by, but I didn’t read them. I was too stirred up inside to keep my mind on anything but Rupert Goody nosing his way into everything.
Uncle Beau tried to get a conversation going. “Jennalee’s got a whole boxful of rubies, don’t you, Jennalee?” he said.
“Mmmm.”
I could feel Rupert staring at me, but I kept my head turned toward the window.
“How many rubies you got, Jennalee?” Rupert said.
“A bunch.”
“Big ones?”
“Nope.”
“Little ones?”
“Yep.”
“What you gonna do with all them rubies, Jennalee?”
“Make me a crown and call myself Queen of the World.” There. That shut him up. I smiled at my reflection in the window.
We weren’t even out of Cherokee before Rupert dropped his head back on the seat and started snoring to high heaven. Every curve we went around sent his head flopping my way and I had to nudge him with my shoulder. That’s the last thing I needed was Rupert drooling on me.
Before it got too dark, I decided to take a look at my rubies. I took my plastic bag out of the glove box and dumped the dirty rubies out in my lap. Out plopped Rupert’s ruby. There was no mistaking it, big as a golf ball, in the middle of my little pea-sized rubies. I picked it up and rolled it around in my hand.
I looked at Rupert, snoring away Now, how do you suppose he managed to get his ruby in my bag? Just goes to show how sneaky he was. But I reckon the bigger question was, why’d he have to go and do a thing like that? I closed my fist over the ruby, feeling its roughness in my palm.
I reckon he thought he was going to whittle me down. Make me not care that he was horning in on me and Uncle Beau, taking the predictable out of things for me.
Rupert’s head flopped over on me for about the hundredth time. I pushed it off me with my ruby fist but he didn’t even wake up. I glared at him in the darkness, trying to send my thoughts his way Rupert B. Goody, I thought, you trying to whittle me down, you might as well stop now, cause Jennalee Helton ain’t one to be whittled.
Six
While Rupert was helping Ned Fuller put new shingles on his house, me and Uncle Beau drove over to Fletcher.
“I want to personally shake the hand of every person that’s helped Rupert,” he told me.
I didn’t give him a chance to say whether or not he wanted me to go along. I just packed us some sandwiches and jumped in the truck next to Jake.
Uncle Beau had a list of names on a paper napkin.
“We’ll just start at the top and work our way down,” he said.
The ride there felt like the good ole days. I told Uncle Beau about how John Elliott threw a shoe at Jimmy and it busted out the window and a piece of glass flew clear across the room and cut Marny on the hand. She got about four itty-bitty stitches but you’d’ve thought she got her hand cut plumb off, the way she hollered.
Then I told him about how Daddy came home with roadkill and made a stew I swear. The biggest rabbit I ever saw. Hardly a scratch on it. Daddy hung the skin on the fence out back and it smelled something awful, flies swarming all around it.
“Your daddy’s a pretty resourceful man, ain’t he?” Uncle Beau said.
“What’s that mean?”
“Means he turns lemons into lemonade.”
“I guess so. Only problem is, don’t nobody want a thing to do with that roadkill stew”
Uncle Beau laughed and laughed. We ate our sandwiches and before long we were pulling into the parking lot of the Fletcher post office.
“Anybody works in a post office is likely to know everybody worth knowing,” Uncle Beau explained.
He folded the napkin, put it in his pocket, walked up to the woman behind the counter, and said, “I’m looking for Miss Sophie Day”
“You’re looking right at her,” the woman said, without the slightest blink of curiosity
“Well, I’ll be doggone,” Uncle Beau said. Then I guess he was so surprised to find Miss Sophie Day right off the bat that he didn’t know what to say next.
Miss Sophie was about the tiniest woman I ever saw. Couldn’t hardly see over the counter. She wore glasses thick as soda bottles. Her skin was as dark and cracked as old shoe leather.
“I know I ain’t broke no law and ain’t nobody died and left me nothing,” she said, “so what you want with me?” Then she smiled. If I had to count the teeth in her head, I reckon I could’ve stopped at about five.
Uncle Beau chuckled and held out his hand. “I just come to shake the hand of
one who helped Rupert Goody”
Miss Sophie squinted at Uncle Beau. “Rupert Goody?” Then she looked up at the ceiling, rubbing her chin. “Rupert Goody Rupert Goody”
Uncle Beau kept his hand out. “Tall, skinny black boy. A mite slow but sweet as can be. A good worker, too. Lost his mama as a baby Floated all over Fletcher till he come my way.”
Miss Sophie snapped her fingers. “I know who you mean now.” She shook Uncle Beau’s hand. “Lord, I hadn’t seen that boy in ages. Last I heard, he was working for Mr. Reuben.”
“Rupert’s my son.”
Miss Sophie’s eyebrows shot up. “Your son?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, I’ll be.” She looked Uncle Beau up and down, then glanced at me.
“This here’s my friend Jennalee,” Uncle Beau said.
Miss Sophie nodded. “Rupert stayed with me awhile when he was about thirteen, fourteen. I take in so many strays I can’t remember one from the other half the time. I do remember Rupert, though. Couldn’t read but could take my washing machine apart and put it back together. Not to fix it, mind you, but just for the hell of it.”
Uncle Beau smiled at me. Such a proud, sweet smile I had to smile back.
“I never knew he had no kin, though,” Miss Sophie said. “He was all the time saying he was gonna find his daddy someday, but they all say that. I never paid no mind to that kind of talk.” She looked out at the truck. “You got Rupert with you?”
“He’s back over in Claytonville working,” Uncle Beau said.
“Y’all from Claytonville?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Uncle Beau took the napkin out, smoothed it on the counter, and squinted down at the list. “Can you point us toward this Mr. Reuben?”
“I’ll point you but I gotta warn you. That old geezer is about as mean as a hornet in a mason jar. Liable to run you off.”
Uncle Beau tipped an imaginary hat. “Thanks for the warning,” he said.
“Either you can’t read or you’re just stupid. Which is it?”
Me and Uncle Beau stopped.
“Neither,” Uncle Beau said. “Just come to speak to you a minute, Mr. Reuben.”
The old man jerked his head toward a sign. “Beware of Dog.” I looked around. Wasn’t no dog in sight. Then I heard the rattle of a chain and the ugliest dog I’d ever laid eyes on stuck his head out from under the front steps and growled at us. Mr. Reuben leaned toward us in his lawn chair.
“I don’t see no lawn mower. That’s what I do. Fix lawn mowers. You ain’t got a lawn mower, then you got no business with me, mister.”
Boy, Mr. Reuben would’ve made a good Helton. He’d’ve fit right in with them nasty brothers of mine. But Uncle Beau didn’t let Mr. Reuben faze him a bit.
“Come to shake your hand, is all,” Uncle Beau said. “Thank you for caring for Rupert Goody”
Mr. Reuben narrowed his eyes. “Rupert Goody?”
“Yessir.”
“That no-good, sorry sack of nothing left me high and dry.” Mr. Reuben threw his arm out toward his dirt patch of a yard, littered with lawn mowers and rototillers and greasy engine parts. “I give him a roof over his head and a good job and what does he do? Hightails it on out of here.”
Uncle Beau and I looked at the yard. That ugly dog was still rattling his chain under the steps, but he didn’t come out. Every now and then Jake let out a bark from the truck.
“Rupert’s my son, Mr. Reuben,” Uncle Beau said. “I just come to thank you for taking care of him.”
Mr. Reuben cocked his head and glared at Uncle Beau. “Rupert Goody’s a black man.”
“Yessir, I know that.”
Mr. Reuben grunted and waved his hand at Uncle Beau. “Go on, get out of here. I got work to do.”
“You know anybody name of Anna Lee?”
“Dead.”
“Dead?”
“That’s how come Rupert come moping around here in the first place. Anna Lee died and left a passel of riffraff behind. Took in every kind of homeless no-account.”
“Well, now, that’s too bad,” Uncle Beau said, taking out the napkin. “What about Nana June. You know her?”
Mr. Reuben snorted. “Over in that duplex by the Laundromat.”
Once again Uncle Beau tipped his imaginary hat. “Much obliged, Mr. Reuben.”
We hadn’t been in Nana June’s house fifteen minutes before I wanted to crawl in her lap and lay my head on her ample bosom. She was that kind of woman. Big and warm. All the time smiling and saying things that make a person feel like they was the most special person there ever was.
Her house was cluttered from wall to wall with toys and jackets and schoolbooks. Big, comfortable chairs and sofas were all squished together and just begging to be curled up on. The smell of something good baking in the kitchen set my mouth to watering the minute we walked in.
“Rupert Goody!” she squealed, taking Uncle Beau’s hand in both of hers and pumping it up and down. “An angel on this earth, that boy. Come on over here and set yourselves down.”
We pushed aside diapers and books and toys and sat on the couch. Nana June brought us homemade cookies and ginger ale. Two little kids peeked out at us from the kitchen.
“Rupert’s my son,” Uncle Beau said.
Nana June threw her arms up. “Law, you don’t mean it!” She beamed at me and Uncle Beau. “You know, I’ve taken in nearly two hundred children over the last twenty years and I remember every one of them. And I do think Rupert Goody was the sweetest child I ever had the pleasure of knowing.”
Uncle Beau grinned. “Did you know Rupert as a child?”
“Know him? Shoot, I changed his diapers and blew his nose and smacked his bottom a time or two.” She patted me on the knee. “Is this sweet thing here your child, too?” she asked Uncle Beau.
“She’s my friend.”
“Well, now, ain’t you lucky?” One of the kids in the kitchen peeked out again and Nana June held out her arms. “Come on in here, Luther.” A little boy with a beach-towel cape ran in and buried his face in her lap. She laughed and patted his back. “Well, I’ll tell you, Mr. Beauregarde, I love that Rupert Goody I just can’t keep no children too long. They stay with me long as they need to, then they move on. Rupert, he was kind of hard to find homes for on account of him being a little slow, you know But I knew he’d find himself a home sooner or later. He was happy as a clam over at Anna Lee’s, I can promise you that. God bless her soul.” She shook her head and patted that little boy.
Uncle Beau stood up. “I won’t be taking no more of your time. I thank you again for all you done.”
Nana June hugged us both. “You tell Rupert to come see his Nana June.”
“I’ll do that.” Uncle Beau started for the door, then turned, looking at his napkin. “You know either of these folks?”
Nana June looked at the napkin. “Well, let’s see. Mrs. Singer went off to a nursing home over in Asheville. But that’s been a ways back. I reckon she’s probably passed on by now. The Stewarts, they left Fletcher about five years ago. I think they went up north somewheres, but I wouldn’t swear to it.”
Uncle Beau thanked her and we said our goodbyes, then headed on out to the truck. We were quiet on the way home, but that was good cause I had lots of thoughts. I thought about baby Rupert, sitting on Nana June’s lap in his diapers. I thought about Rupert as a skinny teenager, helping Miss Sophie Day in the post office. Then I thought about grownup Rupert walking into Uncle Beau’s store and saying, “I’m your son, Rupert B. Goody” I shook my head and gazed out the window at the darkening sky Sure seemed like a puzzle to me.
Seven
I scooched down into the beanbag chair and stared at the TV. Some man was shooting at some other man and some woman was trying to run everybody down with a car. My brothers were sprawled all over everywhere, watching that show like it was the meaning of life. Now that school was out for the summer, they spent their days watching TV and hollering at each other.
Ruth came running in and they all started yelling for her to get out of the way. She plopped down next to me.
“What you doing here, Jennalee?” she said.
“I live here.”
“Why ain’t you at Uncle Beau’s?”
“I don’t feel like it, okay?”
“I bet it’s cause of that Rupert man.”
“Shut up.”
“Mama says he’s Uncle Beau’s son.”
“Shut your mouth, Ruth Ann Helton!” I gave her hair a yank, but she kept going.
“I bet he is too Uncle Beau’s son cause I seen him washing Uncle Beau’s pickup and making deliveries to Miss June Tate and setting up the bargain table and …”
I yanked her hair again and she yelled, “Ma-a-a-ma!” Mama hollered something from the kitchen, and Ruth crawled up under the coffee table with her lower lip stuck out and her arms folded up against herself.
“You’re mean, Jennalee,” she said.
“You’re stupid.”
“Is that Rupert man really Uncle Beau’s son?”
I put my hands over my ears and stared at the TV Ruth crawled over and stuck her face in front of mine.
“Did Uncle Beau have a wife?” she said.
Now, that was just the kind of conversation my brothers had been pining for. They jumped right on it like a flea on a hound dog.
“Not a wife, Ruth,” my oldest brother, Vernon, said. “More like a hot-to-trot girlfriend.”
Vernon and John Elliott and Jimmy all started poking each other and carrying on like they were funny or something. I kept my hands over my ears and my eyes glued to the TV.
Ruth tried to pull my hands away. “How come Uncle Beau had a hot-to-trot girlfriend?” she said.
“Well, I reckon ole Uncle Beau is hot to trot hisself,” Vernon said. He jumped up on the couch and started gyrating and carrying on. He hung his tongue out and panted like a dog and John Elliott and Jimmy rolled around on the couch laughing and holding their sides. Vernon was just pleased as punch. He wrapped his arms around an invisible woman and smooched his lips out, making kissy sounds. Then he poked the back of my head with his foot, but I just pretended like he didn’t exist. Then I pulled my knee back and let go with a kick that sent Ruth clean under the coffee table. I realize I should’ve been kicking Vernon, but I wasn’t no fool.
Me and Rupert Goody Page 3
