Eventually we got all her seedlings in the ground. Rows and rows of corn and squash and tomatoes and kale and beans and two kinds of potatoes and other things we didn’t even know the names of, every single one of them needing water and weeds pulled away from their roots.
Back when Agnes had her hogs, she liked to go down and lean on their pens after supper and watch them getting fat and talk about the kind of money she was going to make from selling them.
Cathy and I used to live for those times because they got her out of the house for a brief while, as well as sending her back in what could almost be called a good mood to go for her picture-box. Browsing through it she would talk excitedly about having her an all-electric kitchen with a stove where she could set the temperature any place she felt like and not ever have to think about getting up to throw sticks in the range.
‘My kids’ll come by and visit then, boy!’ she’d gloat. ‘They get a taste of all the good stuff I’ll bake up for ’em in my new oven, better believe they will.’
The last spring of our captivity, it was the crazy cow, Suzy, that Agnes looked at every night after supper.
‘That cow and that baby inside of her’s gonna make me one rich, happy woman,’ she’d gloat. ‘Yes, sir!’
Waiting for the school bus, Danny said, ‘I can’t hardly stand to milk “that cow” no more. Not just on account of her gettin’ meaner and tryin’ to run at me and butt me every chance she gets, but on account of Agnes all the time hangin’ around sayin’, “You better take good care of that cow, boy. Real good care. On account of that calf she’s carryin’ is my ticket out of here. You wouldn’t want to interfere with that now, would you, boy?”
‘Better believe I’d like to interfere with that,’ Danny daydreamed. ‘What I’d like to do is enlist. Only me, I’d go sign up with the Japs so’s I could fly over this dump and bomb Agnes and her cow and that calf inside it to a million pieces. Always expectin’ she’d be settin’ in the shit house with her picture-box when I got here.’
The Old Man took to looking the cow over some evenings after supper, too, and one day he came back in saying, ‘There’s something real bad wrong with that cow, Agnes, I swear. Meanest damn critter I ever saw. I was you I’d call in that veterinarian guy when her time comes.’
‘Mind your business, Walter, and I’ll mind mine,’ Agnes snapped. ‘I ain’t spendin’ one dime on that fool. I had a dollar for every calf I helped birth when I was a girl, I’d be one rich woman today.’
Coming home from school one day that spring, we found Agnes waiting for us at the edge of the woods. We’d seen her print dress through the spring growth of new leaves from a good way off and groaned, ‘Now what?’
But when we got up close we saw she was smiling and, finger to lips as though she had a secret, motioning us to follow her to the barn, where she threw open the door.
There in the dark, leaves stuck all over her, stood Suzy and she was licking the cutest, dearest little baby calf any of us had ever laid eyes on.
Melting with instant love, we ooh’d and aah’d over it until Cathy thought to ask, ‘What you fixin’ on callin’ it, ma’am?’
Agnes looked at her as if she’d never heard anything so dumb in all her born days. ‘Call it?’ she spluttered. ‘Call it anythin’ you want. Just take care of it is what-all I care about.’
‘Let’s call it Primrose,’ I suggested. ‘They’re such soft, sweet little flowers. Just like the calf.’
Agnes snorted. ‘This baby ain’t gonna be soft and sweet like no primrose for long. It’s a bull! He’ll be scarin’ the pants offa you in a couple months.’
‘Let’s call him Superman!’ Danny suggested. ‘Superman’s so big and strong he can do anything he wants. He even knows how to fly!’
Agnes’ face turned mean. ‘Call him anything you want, boy,’ she said. ‘Just mind no harm comes to him. I’m holdin’ you responsible. Any harm comes to him I swear it’ll be the last day of your life, count on it.’
Danny was so gullible, he grinned up at her as though he couldn’t believe he got to be the one to take care of that cute, wobbly little animal. To him it was an honour that meant he was special, as if Agnes had just granted him every wish he’d ever had in one big package – a package called Superman.
‘Yes, ma’am!’ he exulted.
He was so excited and happy I even felt a little bit happy for him myself, although generally I thought of him as dumber than dumb. I looked over at Cathy expecting her to be happy for him too, but she wasn’t.
She was looking both mad and worried at the same time and rubbing her arms as if she had goose bumps. Was she mad because Danny got something she wanted, I wondered? Or was this one of those times when she suspected things Danny and I never even thought about?
Turned out it was. One of those times Cathy suspected things nobody else thought about, I mean.
SEVENTEEN
From the day of the calf’s birth and ever after, all Danny ever talked about was, ‘My calf. My Superman.’
‘It ain’t your calf,’ Cathy told him repeatedly. ‘It’s Agnes’ calf and she’s sellin’ it first chance she gets.’
Danny was oblivious. Waiting for the school bus he’d tell us, ‘There’s a real nice patch of grass growin’ down by them old hog pens. Soon’s I get home I’m stakin’ Suzy out back there so my Superman can eat it. He’s gonna love it.’
‘Her calf don’t eat grass yet,’ Cathy reminded him.
‘Today might could be the day he starts,’ Danny argued.
Another day he said, ‘You seen them crab apple trees by the hen house bloomin’? Man, they’re pretty. I’m gonna stake Suzy out that way tomorrow so my Superman can get a look at ’em. Betcha he loves ’em.’
‘Cows don’t look at trees like people, dope,’ Cathy sneered.
‘Superman ain’t a cow, he’s a bull. And he’s got eyes, ain’t he?’
Agnes told Danny, ‘You better mind where you stake that cow, hear? I don’t want that calf takin’ off … gettin’ in the vegetables … tramplin’ stuff.’
Back at the bus stop Danny said, ‘What did she go say a thing like that for, huh? Superman knows he has to stay near Suzy else he don’t get to eat so why’d he run off tramplin’ stuff? He’s way too smart.’
‘Now, maybe,’ Cathy said. ‘But how about later when he’s bigger? How’re you gonna make him stay put then?’
‘That’s a long ways off yet. I’ll figure it out before he gets that big,’ Danny answered.
It wasn’t a long way off, Superman growing bigger. His curiosity seemed to grow along with his size so it didn’t much matter where Danny staked Suzy, he wandered away to explore new territory. The moment he was out of her sight, Suzy would start to fuss and bawl and before you knew it, she’d have uprooted her stake and be chasing after him, stake and chain crashing along behind her.
The sound of her thudding hooves and clanking chain terrified Cathy and me and we’d dive for the nearest shelter. It drove Agnes out-of-her-mind crazy. She’d come storming out of the house cussing and screaming about what she was going to do to Danny if any harm came to her animals.
‘I swear,’ Cathy complained, ‘it’s gettin’ to where there ain’t no place safe around here no more with that cow and Agnes – both of them flat-out crazy – chasin’ around the place and comin’ at you when you ain’t expectin’ ’em.’
Along came the last day of school and all the kids getting on the bus to go home were acting like wild Indians. All except Cathy and Danny and me who, as always, sat mute and listless wishing school stayed open year round.
The driver climbed in, closed the door, told everybody to sit down and pipe down, then started pulling away from the curb. Cathy turned in her seat and looked back at the school for such a long time I asked her, ‘What you lookin’ at?’
‘Ain’t lookin’ at nothin’ in p’tic’lar,’ she answered with a shiver. ‘Just lookin’ for lookin’, is all. And thinkin’ how my whole entire life that
school’s the only place I ever felt safe.’
What did she have to go and say a thing like that for? It scared me half to death. Especially since she was rubbing away at her arms again the way she’d been doing for the last couple months.
‘Quit rubbin’ at your arms like that,’ I glowered. ‘How come you’re all the time doin’ it anyways?’
‘I don’t know and I can’t help it,’ she said. ‘Just – get a feelin’ come over me that makes me all over shivers.’
‘What kind of a feelin’?’
Cathy thought a moment before saying, ‘It’s the kind of feelin’ you get when Agnes goes smiley and sends you someplace to wait on her. You hear her feet comin’ and your heart starts beatin’ real fast on account of you know when she gets to where you’re at you’re gonna get hurt real bad.’
‘That’s just plain dumb,’ I said, with a scowl. ‘How can you feel that way when Agnes ain’t even here? She’s at the house.’
‘That’s where we’re goin’, ain’t it?’
I couldn’t say a word back. What Cathy just said made my heart pound and my mouth go dry and all I could think was, Oh, Jesus….
‘Even with her gettin’ us up a hour earlier and sendin’ us back out after supper, like she’s been doin’, I still can’t figure how just us three is s’posed to get through all her work,’ Cathy went on, rubbing her arms ever more fiercely, ‘a whole entire summer and her not do somethin’ real, real bad to one of us. ’Specially now we got Superman driving us crazy every minute.’
Every morning while we were still at the breakfast table, Agnes would outline what she wanted done that day. One morning she began her list by saying she wanted eggs. ‘Danny,’ she said, ‘bring ’em up soon’s you get done eatin’. You girls get on up do them beds over. They’re all over lumps. Sarah, soon’s the store opens want you to run by get me some yeast and don’t forget to ask for my mail. Cathy, go scrub out that cabin and get rid of all them bottles. Place stinks like a bar. Danny, stake that cow in the orchard. Grass in there’s higher’n my eye. How come you don’t see that? Don’t forget to burn the trash and for Christ’s sake, move it! Soon’s you get done your chores I want you all in the vegetables. You’re lettin’ them weeds take over again.’
She paused to rub her forehead. ‘I swear, work’s gettin’ so bad I’m gonna have to give Bennings another call find out how come she ain’t found me more kids like I asked for. Go on now, git!’
Given the number and variety of chores we each had before us, it seemed we’d hardly started on the weeds than the bell was ringing for lunch.
Agnes was standing inside the screen door when we got to the house. She nudged the door open with her foot, handed out a small plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of water and said, ‘You ain’t eatin’ in today on account of I ain’t feelin’ right. Don’t want to hear no noise and don’t want none of you comin’ near. Go eat in the weeds. Pull ’em while you eat.’
Knowing she would be checking on us even if she wasn’t feeling right, we did as we were told and pulled weeds while we gulped our sandwiches. But it wasn’t long before we slowed down and soon all three of us were taking turns at the pitcher even though by then the water was already so hot we could have boiled potatoes in it.
That day had to have been the hottest and the quietest we’d had so far that summer. So hot and so quiet even the bugs had stopped flying and buzzing.
‘Feels like there ain’t nobody else alive in this whole entire world today, ’cept us,’ I said in almost a whisper.
‘There ain’t!’ Danny said. ‘Leastways not outside sweatin’ like us. Bet every kid we know from school is right now settin’ in front of a fan like Bill’s eatin’ ice cream and drinkin’ ice water!’
Cathy scowled. ‘Shut your fool mouth! We don’t need pictures like that goin’ on in our heads when all we got to look at is more weeds than vegetables and not a speck of shade.’
Danny stood up and, crouching low, started sneaking away.
‘Where you think you’re goin’?’ Cathy asked.
‘Gonna take a leak.’
‘How come you don’t take it here, like always?’
Danny batted his eyelashes. ‘’Cause that ain’t nice!’ he simpered. ‘’Sides, I seen a whole bunch of windfall apples this mornin’ when I was stakin’ Suzy out and I’m gonna get us some. And I’m gonna say “Hi” to my Superman on account of I ain’t had a chance all day.’
‘Go on ahead,’ Cathy sneered. ‘And when old Agnes comes by askin’ where you’re at I’ll tell her Danny felt like gettin’ a lickin’ today so he took off to make sure he did.’
‘Tell her anythin’ you want,’ Danny said. ‘And if she wants to know more, tell her good ole Danny Boy had to go for baskets to haul off the weeds. Ask her how come she never thought about that? Say, ‘“Jesus, is he supposed to think of everythin’?”’
Cathy was too mad to say anything back. Just started pulling weeds as if she was getting paid for it. She slowed down after a while, though, and I saw that she was frowning as though she was listening to something. Something I didn’t hear.
‘What?’ I asked. ‘What you listenin’ at?’
Cathy’s frown deepened and her hand chopped down signalling shut up! And then she was on her feet and I was, too, and even though we couldn’t hear much more than a far-away shushing kind of sound, we knew it meant someone was running our way and that someone could only be Danny. We knew, too, he wouldn’t be running in that suffocating heat, with Agnes safely in the house, unless something real bad was going on. In seconds we saw him and his face was whiter than white paper and his eyes so big and scared-looking we forgot Agnes might be watching and ran to meet him calling, ‘What? What?’
Danny was panting so hard he could hardly speak but between gasps he said, ‘You gotta come quick! Somethin’ real bad’s wrong with Superman. He’s— We gotta do somethin’ ’fore she sees him!’
Cathy and I took off after him while the words were still coming out of his mouth but he’d reminded us about Agnes and even while we ran, I prayed, ‘Please, please keep her wherever she’s at till we get Superman OK again. Thank you, God. Amen.’
We saw him then, Superman, and forgot all about Agnes. Instead we were gasping, moaning, ‘Oh-h-h, no-o-o! What happened, Superman? What’s wrong, baby? Oh-h-h-h….’
His front legs were straddled out wide in front of him and his neck was stretched out straight and stiff while long swags of foaming saliva drooled out of both sides of his mouth like cobwebs.
Closer still we saw his eyes were bulging and he was black with sweat. But worst of all, by far, was the noise he was making: a horrible, gasping, wheezing kind of gurgle.
Nearby, Suzy had her chain wrapped around a tree so tight her head was up against the trunk and she was bawling and straining at her collar.
And all we could think to do was … nothing.
We didn’t know what to do. Instead, we busied ourselves patting Superman and kissing him and telling him, ‘Don’t you worry, baby. Everything’s gonna be just fine. It’s OK….’ All three of us sounding dumber than the most fool adult we’d ever heard.
One of us said he might could need a drink of water and we dived for Suzy’s bucket and brought it over and doused his muzzle in it but he didn’t drink. Not a drop. Just kept on with that terrible, gasping noise.
We thought Suzy might know how to make him better and we pushed and pulled at her to get her away from the tree but every time we got her a little slack, she bunched herself up to send us flying and wound herself back up tight to the tree again.
‘It ain’t no use,’ Cathy sobbed, ‘we got to go get Agnes.’
We stared at her not believing she’d said that, Danny and me and we said, ‘Are you nuts? She sees him like this, she’ll—’
Cathy said, ‘Yeah, she will. But this calf’s in real bad trouble. We don’t do something right quick, he might even … he might could … die!’
‘No-o-o-o!’ Danny howled. ‘
He ain’t gonna go die on me! I take real good care of him. He can’t!’ He looked pleadingly at Cathy and she looked right back at him, hard. He dropped his eyes, ‘What’ll we tell her?’ he mumbled.
‘Tell her?’ Cathy screeched. ‘Jesus! We got to tell her Superman’s sick. Real bad sick! We got to tell her she needs to get out here right now get him better.’
‘But … she said we wasn’t to come near.’
‘Don’t matter what she said, we got to get her.’
We crept into the kitchen not letting the screen door squeal, not making any kind of noise at all. And it was so quiet in there, so cool, so dark after the brightness of outdoors that we stood a moment blinking, letting our eyes adjust, while listening for any kind of sound over the noise of ourselves: our pounding hearts, our gasping breath.
Where was she?
Full well we knew she wasn’t downstairs. If she was, she’d have been in her rocker. She was lying down in Betty’s room, was where she was. Only we were scared to go up there and, our feet making little shushing sounds on the linoleum, we looked for her behind chairs, behind the range, behind every fool thing we could think of so we wouldn’t have to.
We were at the bottom of the stairs, then, squinting up into what seemed a blinding tunnel of light, so bright was the sun streaming in the uncurtained landing window. Blinking, we looked away and at one another and then, suddenly, Danny was taking the stairs two at a time and Cathy and I gasped, hearing his fists pounding on the door of Betty’s room.
He pounded a long time, that boy. Way longer than he needed to. By then Cathy and I were at the top of the stairs and staring at his back. He’d stopped pounding by then and was standing in a crouched position, his fists clenched at his sides, his head tilted, staring at that closed door as if, more than anything, he’d like to break it down.
And after all the noise he’d just made, everything seemed quieter than quiet had ever been.
A Home in the Country Page 20
