Capture the Wind for Me

by Brandilyn Collins

Saturday dragged by, the weather turning hot and muggy until it poured rain in the late afternoon. Missing Greg every minute, I cleaned house, did laundry, gave Winnie a bath, and had a heart-to-heart talk with Robert, who couldn’t seem to pull out of his doldrums. He faced another month or so with a leg in an itchy cast, wondering how well he’d be able to run when it finally came off. As for Clarissa, she’d made up once more with Alma Sue and chose to spend Saturday afternoon over at her house instead of with Della, presumably stuffing herself with bribe candy. Daddy and Katherine went to a matinee, then out to an early supper. Katherine “needed to get out and do something,” Daddy informed me, even though I knew he’d just as soon stay home and relax after the tough week we’d all had.

  It was going to be a long summer, I thought as I wandered into my room for the tenth time that day to stare at Greg’s picture.

  He called me that night, his voice tossing my emotions about like warm wind. I felt elation and pain at the same time, just hearing him talk. Three months, he reminded me as we hung up. Three months and we’d see each other again. How could we ever last that long, I wondered, when the past five days had seemed an eternity?

  That Sunday, Derek ended up next to me in our pew. Katherine’s parents had both come down with summer colds and so did not attend church, leaving Derek alone. “Don’t sit all by yourself,” I told him, thinking, If only he were Greg. “Come be with us.”

  “Sure.” He shrugged, and when he plunked down he made a point of pulling up both pant legs for me.

  “Oh, Derek,” I laughed, “remember when you told me that people who wore the same color socks had no imagination?”

  He rested a knobby elbow on the end of the pew, considering. “Well. There’s always new things to imagine.”

  I eyed him, wondering at the remark, but he was too busy shifting into a comfortable position to look at me.

  “My brother, Derek,” Katherine commented out of the blue that evening as we made sandwiches for a light supper, “I’m going to get him to stand up straight if it kills me. He’s got one more year here, then he’ll be off to college. I told him he’ll never catch a girl walking around with his neck at that weird angle, like someone’s pulling him sideways by a chain through his nose.”

  “That wasn’t very nice.” I frowned at her, wondering if she always treated her brother so unkindly.

  “Well, it’s the truth. Nobody else around here would ever tell him, so it’s up to me. I want to see him happy.”

  “I thought he was happy, just bein’ himself.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t see how he could be, with the quiet life he leads—hardly any friends, and being here in Bradleyville.”

  My hands stilled, mayonnaise spread across one-half of a piece of bread. Being here in Bradleyville. There was that attitude again. But this time I couldn’t agree with Katherine, thinking I’d never sensed discontent on Derek’s part, so surely she spoke more for herself. Was she getting tired of life here, just as I’d imagined she would? Katherine continued slicing tomatoes as though she hadn’t just made a remark that made my mouth run dry.

  “Did you have a good time yesterday out with Daddy?” I asked after a moment.

  “Of course. No one I’d rather be with.” She smiled at me. “Why?”

  “No reason.”

  I lay in bed that night, visions of Greg swirling with vague fears over Katherine’s comment. Finally I fell into an uneasy sleep, Daddy’s words blowing through my head. It’s always harder for the one who’s left behind.

  chapter 38

  Looking back upon that summer, I am amazed at how little of the winds of change I recognized. Oh, I did sense them, even smelled the angst in the air from time to time, as on that Sunday with Katherine. But I didn’t want to understand, nor, I’m sure, did Daddy. Like protecting a house in a sudden storm, we closed the shutters and doors of our minds, capturing the wind into separate little rooms that could be stilled and calmed one at a time. Or so we told ourselves.

  In my defense I’ll say that I wasn’t privy at the time to everything that happened—most notably the arguments between Daddy and Katherine. The smooth sailing of their relationship was about to hit a few waves as the differences in their personalities began to surface. I understand Katherine much better now than I did then. Now I see how much she loved city life—the restaurants and shows and faster pace of living. She loved dressing up and going out to events and parties. She loved the energy of a crowd. We saw little of this the first few months she became part of our lives. But that was to be expected. After all, she’d fled to quiet Bradleyville purposely. “I don’t want my old lifestyle,” she’d told me that day we’d talked in my bedroom. “I’ve turned my life over to Christ.”

  Ah, there. Do you see it? How obvious it seems with the added wisdom of four years. Yet we were so blind then, Katherine included.

  Yes, Katherine’s “lifestyle” needed to change. Yes, she’d made poor choices. Slept around, partied too much, generally wore her soul out. Bradleyville provided a calm sanctuary for her while she got back on her feet. But Katherine’s mistake—our mistake—lay in equating her past choices with city life in general. Christ had changed her, right? So she should just be satisfied with living in Bradleyville.

  But deep in her heart was she really satisfied, even though she loved my daddy? As the days passed, I began to wonder if the staccato beat that was Katherine would begin to outpace the languid rhythm of our town.

  A week after school let out, Katherine got a job selling clothes in Albertsville’s swankiest boutique—a relative description, to be sure. She’d hung around her parents’ house long enough, she complained, and cooking and cleaning for them hardly took the day. Daddy agreed that the job was a wonderful step for her. “She’s gotten restless, and who can blame her,” he commented at supper one night. “She has an active mind and needs more to keep her busy.” I agreed. Maybe this job was all she needed to still the waters of discontentment. Besides, Katherine loved looking good, whether dressed for Sunday or a picnic, and her flair for clothes would certainly help her succeed in the boutique.

  Katherine worked five days a week, Tuesday through Saturday. The weekend work proved the least favorite detail because it cut into the time she could spend with our family. Still, she would close up the shop around 5:00 and be at our doorstep by 6:00, ready to help put supper on the table. Many nights, she turned right around and went out with Daddy, either to supper or a movie, or both. Not that Daddy really wanted to go out so much, but he was trying to please her. How fortunate for them that Greg was gone, I thought jealously more than once. They could certainly count on my playing baby-sitter every week, couldn’t they?

  I settled into a routine, taking care of the house and kids, and mostly moping in my spare time. Alison came over often, our usual subject of conversation centering on our boyfriends. She and Jacob were still an item. And my heart remained so achingly full of Greg that at times I thought it would burst. With the town’s view of Greg now overwhelmingly positive, save for the few holdouts who’d never change their minds, Daddy had eased up about Greg’s ring, and it now hung openly around my neck.

  “You are going to let me take Jackie to the concert in August,” Katherine said to Daddy out of the blue one Sunday afternoon. “Those tickets will be going on sale soon, and Greg will have to hold two of them.” She and I both knew Greg already planned on holding two of them in hopes that we could come, but why tell Daddy that?

  Daddy eyed her with a tinge of irritation, obviously not happy that she’d challenged him in front of me. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  Apprehension trailed up my spine, even as I suspected Daddy’s answer had more to do with Katherine’s tactics than the issue. I hoped she wouldn’t push him into a “no.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Bobby,” Katherine replied. “I’ll chaperone her. How can you let her miss the chance to see Greg in action?”

  I had the feeling the last thing Daddy would have chosen was
my seeing Greg in action. He still hoped I’d get over this ridiculousness and find a nice Bradleyville boy.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” Daddy told Katherine firmly.

  Oh, did they clash about that on Sunday night when they went out for a drive. It was their first major argument, as far as I know. Daddy told Katherine in no uncertain terms she was not to contradict him in front of his kids. “I’m sorry,” she retorted, “but what about when you’re wrong?” The conversation went downhill from there. Apparently they’d worked it out by the time he took her back to her parents’ house, but Daddy did seem preoccupied and aloof when he got home.

  LuvRush’s tour began. I hung a map of the States in my bedroom with pushpins in the cities where their concerts would be held. I also began combing the Internet, reading articles about their concerts in local newspapers. I printed out everything I found, three-hole punching it and placing it in a notebook along with every one of Greg’s e-mails.

  I miss you so much, he wrote in late June. Iam with people always, and still Ifeel alone because you are not here. Ican’t believe I have no picture of you. We forget this how? You think you can scan one into a computer and e-mail it to me? I will print it somehow.

  I had no idea how to scan a photo into the computer, but I bet anything Derek would. He and I had continued e-mailing the whole month, and in my boredom I’d come to look forward to his letters. His sense of humor often came through in his e-mails, and he’d tell me funny stories about the characters at his job. Computer people sure sounded like a strange bunch to me.

  Derek worked full-time that summer with weekends off, so I arranged to go to his house on Saturday to scan the photo. I didn’t care that much for pictures of myself, but I did have one I liked, taken in our backyard some months previously. Derek took one look at it and raised his eyebrows. “Nice,” he said.

  “Thanks.” I smiled at him, noticing that he was standing significantly straighter these days, his chin held directly over his chest rather than angled. Katherine had been working on him. Derek had also allowed his hair to grow out a little. It would never be as thick on the top as Greg’s, but the way it fell across one side of his forehead lent him a sort of rakish look. “You look good, too,” I told him. “In fact, you’re looking better than ever these days.”

  I only wanted to say something nice because of his willingness to help me. But pleasure flicked across his face, and one corner of his mouth turned up.

  “Okay.” He sniffed, taking the picture from my hand. “Let’s see what’s up with this.”

  He pulled a chair up next to his for me, and I watched with fascination as he placed the photo in a scanner, then manipulated the image on the computer. “Can you make it bigger?”

  He clicked the keys. “I can make it bigger, smaller, I can change the color tone, whatever you want.”

  “Really,” I teased, “how about makin’ me gorgeous while you’re at it.”

  “Nope,” he said matter-of-factly, “can’t improve on perfection.”

  I glanced at him, surprised, but he focused on the computer, intent on moving the mouse just so.

  “Okay,” he said finally, satisfied. “I evened out the background tone a little. Like it?”

  I leaned over, our arms touching. “Yeah. Looks great.”

  “So. I’ll e-mail it to you now, then you’ll have it. If you want to send it somewhere, all you have to do is attach it.” He hit a few keys, then leaned back. “Done.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem. What do you want this for, anyway?”

  I hesitated. I never mentioned Greg to Derek. Not that my dating Greg was any secret, what with his ring around my neck, but somehow I just couldn’t do it. That should have told me something.

  Derek turned to me, searching my face, and knew. “Well,” he said, his tone a little too light. “Anything else you need?”

  Empathy shot through me. Derek didn’t deserve to have his feelings hurt. “No, thanks.” I pressed my fingers against his arm. “You’ve been great, like always.”

  A week later at the town’s Fourth of July parade, Katherine’s and my family stood together, pressed on both sides by folks cheering and hollering over the rather ungainly procession of kids on bikes, old cars, and skittish horses. No town can have a parade quite as motley as Bradleyville. The lead car carrying our mayor had a huge banner down the side—96 Years Young.

  “He doesn’t look ninety-six,” Katherine commented, and Daddy doubled over laughing.

  “Bradleyville, not the mayor, you idgit.” I shook my head. In four years we would be celebrating Bradleyville’s first centennial, and the mayor was already promising a stunning day of events. For the last six years the town had taken a collection during the parade that would go for fireworks on the night of July Fourth, 2002.

  “Oh.” Katherine shrugged as if to say, How could I know? She looked stunning in a multicolored shorts and top outfit and a fully beaded visor, all from GreatWear Boutique. Daddy stood with his arm around Katherine’s shoulders, the way he used to do with Mama. The sight of them brought a bittersweet taste to my mouth. I wished so many things, watching them—wished that Greg and I could be together as they were, wished that Katherine were Mama, then hoped with all my heart, given reality, that Katherine would never, ever hurt Daddy.

  Clarissa rode on Daddy’s shoulders, Robert standing with his crutches beside them. Derek and I hung together, cackling like fools over the sawmill men, who were always the hit of the parade. Dressed like women, including wigs and big chests, they pushed grocery carts from the IGA, pretending to fight over food in the baskets. When Derek’s daddy sashayed by, donned in Miss Connie’s clothes and with bustling hips that had to have required a multitude of padding, I staggered against Derek with laughter. His arm slipped around me to keep me from falling. I clutched his shirt to steady myself, then stayed there for a moment, caught up in the fun.

  “Like what is up with you and Derek?” Alison demanded over the phone later that day. “I saw you at the parade. So did Millicent and Nicole. We all talked about it.”

  “What do you mean, what’s up with me and Derek?” I carried the receiver into my room and shut the door. “Absolutely nothin’!”

  “It sure didn’t look like it, the way he had his arm around you and all.”

  “Alison. We’re talkin’ about Derek. Come on.”

  She breathed into the phone. “Yeah, but admit it, he looks tons better than he used to. And besides, he’s crazy about you.”

  “He is not.”

  “He is so. What are you, Jackie, blind?”

  “Derek is still Derek,” I insisted. “Tall and skinny and Katherine’s brother. I mean, a dozen of him couldn’t compare to one of Greg.”

  I stared at Greg’s picture, feeling the pull of him, the ache for him, and throbbed with indignation over Alison’s idiocy.

  “Okay, Jackie, I believe you. Really. I know how much you love Greg. So just . . . I mean, hear a friend, okay? Watch how you act with Derek. It may not mean anything to you, but that’s not what it looks like to everybody else. And you can bet that’s not what it feels like to Derek.”

  Dear Alison. She couldn’t have put it any plainer. I hung up the phone, realizing she was right. Thinking I’d really need to be more circumspect. Even if no one would ever have real reason to believe I’d turn my back on Greg for the likes of Derek King.

  I switched on the radio, and by providence “Hung Up on You” was playing. I closed my eyes and listened to Greg’s voice, knowing he now sang the song to me, and pretended he was near.

  All thoughts of Derek slipped away.

  chapter 39

  The Monday after Fourth of July weekend, Robert had his cast taken off. He navigated cautiously around the house for the first day, satisfying himself that his leg had mended. Then began the routine that would last the rest of the summer—walking to exercise it, then running, and finally practicing with his friends on the softball field at school.

/>   Clarissa spent her days bouncing from Della to Alma Sue. I can’t remember the three of them playing together once that summer, as those two girls continued to fight over Clarissa like cats over spilt milk. Far too much of the time my sister seemed pouty and emotional. She had not taken kindly to Katherine’s working, somehow having convinced herself that Katherine should provide ever-present entertainment whenever her friends couldn’t play. Good grief, I asked myself more than once, when is my sister ever going to grow up?

  “Clarissa,” I sighed one afternoon after she’d thrown herself upon the couch, arms jammed together and lips pulled down, “what is wrong with you now?”

  “I am tired of people walkin’ all over me,” she declared.

  “Oh, really. Who’s walkin’ all over you this time? Alma Sue again?”

  “No, Della. I wanted to read comics at her house, and all she wanted to do was watch TV.”

  “Well, why couldn’t you read comics while she watched a show?”

  “She wouldn’t get ’em for me.”

  “Did you ask?”

  “Yeah, like about ten times!” She frowned at me as if it were my fault.

  “So is that why you came home?” I asked.

  “Uh-huh.” She kicked a heel against the carpet.

  “Then it sounds to me like you stood up for yourself just fine. When you didn’t get what you wanted, you left.”

  Truly, that indicated real progress for Clarissa. I felt right proud of my sister.

  Her expression lost some of its blackness as she considered my words. “Then maybe if I get mad at Katherine, she’ll quit her job.”

  Quite a turn of logic. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I think Katherine needs that job to feel happy.”

  “No, she doesn’t!” Clarissa cried. “All Katherine needs is us!”

  I look back now on that outbreak from my sister and realize just how right she was. But at the time, I could only see her narrow focus, and it set off distant warning bells in my head. What if something really did go wrong between Daddy and Katherine? What would happen to Clarissa?