by James Villas
Gradually, they all began to move up the beach, swearing, and when they were some distance away, one of the men cupped his mouth with his hands and, in a slurred twang, yelled back over and over, “You’re a crazy ole bitch, lady, a crazy ole bitch.”
“Are you okay?” Goldie asked as Ella calmly placed the pistol back into her bag and reached for her cigarette case and lighter.
“Trash,” she said with disgust, deciding the breeze was now too strong to light a cigarette. “White trash. It’s those types that give the South a bad name. And let me tell you, if young people had behaved and talked like that in my day, if they’d even been seen dressed like bums, and drinking on a public beach in the middle of the day, and bothering decent folks like us, they’d have been locked up before you could say Jack Robinson.”
Goldie, who’d been scanning the beach and was surprised that somebody from somewhere hadn’t come rushing down after Ella fired the shot, reminded her that you see youngsters like that everywhere today.
“Miss Ella, would you really have shot them in the foot?” she then asked, still astonished by what had happened.
“Oh, of course not. I’m not that mean and stupid,” she huffed. “The only thing live I ever shot was a squirrel in my pecan tree years ago. But you just can’t reason with trash like that, and I had to show them the old gal meant business. Mr. Earl taught me one thing, and that’s that nobody in their right mind argues with a gun.”
Goldie picked up Ella’s rod, reeled in the line, and asked if she wanted her to throw it out again. When Ella saw bait still on the hooks, she said it was hopeless, and that her nerves were now on end, and that she’d like to just sit in the cabana, have a nice drink, and read some of Tyler’s new book.
Just as they were getting settled and Goldie was looking around for the attendant, down came Edmund O’Conner and his family headed for a cabana two down from Ella’s. All were wearing bathing suits except O’Conner himself, who sported a ridiculous floral shirt, a pair of Bermuda shorts that exposed thin, pale, almost hairless legs, sandals, and a cap with a long bill that looked brand-new. The adults all greeted Ella and Goldie cordially and related how they’d just driven up to Little River to see the fishing boats while the two boys stood anxiously over the bucket staring at the fish. Then the two, followed by their father, made a dash for the ocean carrying an inflated raft, and Elizabeth and her father collapsed in chairs under an umbrella and began rummaging through canvas bags for suntan lotion, magazines, and a package of crackers.
Seeing how svelte and radiant Elizabeth still looked in her two-piece bathing suit as she rubbed lotion over her smooth arms and legs jogged Ella’s memory of how attractive she herself once was when she knew Jonathan Green and envoked one particular summer day at Folly Beach with him and a group of friends. She remembered the heavy Coke cooler that Sam Ludlow had lugged down to the strand, and Bobby Fisher burying Mary Beth Williams in sand almost up to her face, and swing tunes playing on a bulky portable radio. But most of all she recalled Jonathan ribbing her about the fiery sun when they finally settled down on enormous beach towels.
“You’re going to blister,” he warned, pressing a finger into the pink skin of her shoulder and watching the spot instantly turn white.
“I don’t blister,” she said, “and I want a good tan.”
“I’m telling you, smart aleck, you’ll blister not tan in this blazing sun and need some oil.”
“I hate that greasy stuff.”
“So you want to burn and peel and look like some reptile?” he persisted, unscrewing the lid on a bottle of suntan oil. “Turn over.”
“Jonathan!” she objected playfully, reaching to snatch the bottle from his hand.
“Just on your back,” he said more forcefully, tugging at her arm.
After further coaxing, she finally uttered, “Okay, okay, you monster, but not too much—do you hear me?” and turned over on her stomach.
She could barely feel the hot oil he drizzled just beneath her shoulders, but when he began steadily rubbing it into her skin with soft, slightly circular strokes, she mumbled “Ummm” and cradled her head on her arms. Next she could feel a few drops of oil in the middle of her back as “In the Mood” played on Bobby’s radio a few yards away, then again Jonathan’s warm hands continuously and gently gliding over her vulnerable flesh.
“Feel good?” he asked.
“Ummm” was her only response.
“Don’t go to sleep.”
Never once inching beyond the edges of her one-piece bathing suit, he kept on rubbing her back, and when he finally stopped and dribbled more oil on both legs, Ella didn’t budge or utter a word. Ever so slowly, he lightly kneaded and massaged the backs of her calves, causing Ella to yearn silently for more, and when, gradually, his hands crept up to her thighs and slid back and forth between the crevice of her legs, she thought every nerve in her body would explode. Only the interruption of Sam yelling “Anybody wanna Coke?” stopped the intensity of the sensation.
Sitting in the cabana waiting for Goldie to return, Ella glanced at the spidery veins that now covered much of her ankles. Then she watched wistfully as Sal frolicked with Tommy and his older brother in the water as they tried to catch waves with the raft, and, for a moment, she could see Big Earl with Little Earl and Olivia holding onto a big raft designed as a Confederate flag while she sat with Tyler and worried whether they were out too far. Reaching into her bag, she took out her compact, reinforced her red lipstick, and tried to neaten her hair with her fingers. Then she slowly rubbed the cigarette case and finally managed to light up a smoke.
After cavorting with the boys in the water, Sal, who had a handsome physique, pulled Elizabeth out of the chair, said he’d like to take a walk up the strand, and told Tommy and Rex to pitch ball for a while. By the time Goldie got back to say the attendant would be down shortly, the boys were bored with their game, so before their grandfather could warn them not to pester the two ladies, Tommy rushed up to Goldie and asked about her turquoise medallion. Obligingly, Goldie bent down, removed the medallion from around her neck, and handed it to the boy to admire.
“Can you make out the figure on the front?” she asked as the two boys fondled and studied the light turquoise excitedly.
“It’s an eagle,” Rex guessed.
“Not quite,” Goldie corrected in her soft voice. “It’s really a buzzard, which is as sacred to the Cherokee Indians as the buffalo. And this necklace was given to me by a medicine man when I was about your age. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Gosh,” Tommy said. “A real medicine man like in my book?”
“Yes, a real medicine man who once helped cure me when I had a bad sickness in the stomach.”
“Tom, you boys stop bothering that lady,” O’Conner spoke up when he noticed the three talking.
“Oh, they’re not bothering me one bit, Dr. O’Conner,” Goldie assured. “I was just showing them my necklace.”
“My teacher told us about buffalos,” Tommy said, ignoring his grandfather. “They’re out somewhere with the cowboys.”
Goldie smiled and put her hand around the boy’s shoulder as Ella looked on without saying a word. “Well, I guess they are today, but there was a time when the buffalo were very important to my people. Did your teacher tell you that?”
“I can’t remember,” the younger boy said.
“Tell us about the buzzard,” Rex begged, staring intently at the medallion. “They’re so ugly, aren’t they?”
Now Ella smiled when she overheard the boy’s comment and waved at Goldie to continue the lesson, aware that the youngsters must be about the same age as Goldie’s son when he was killed.
“I tell you what, fellas,” Goldie suggested, glancing back at Ella for reassurance. “Let’s go sit in the sand, and have a small powwow the way we Indians do, and I’ll tell you all about the sacred buzzard.”
“Gosh,” Tommy repeated as the three moved down toward the water and sat cross-legged in a small
circle.
Both Ella and Edmund watched as the scene unfolded a few yards from them. Then, putting down his magazine, he pulled himself up from the chair, crossed in front of the empty cabana that separated his from hers, and said, “I do hope the boys are not annoying your companion.”
“Heavens to Betsy, no. You see, Dr. O’Conner, I didn’t go into any detail when I was telling you about Goldie, but she once had a son about that same age who was killed with his father in a tragic accident, so I think it might mean a lot to her to associate with the boys and tell them some of her wild tales. She’s a very proud Indian, you know.” She paused a moment. “Would you care to sit down here and keep an old lady company for a while?”
“I’d be very happy to sit down and keep a very attractive lady company,” he said with a mischievous smile on his face, lowering himself into the deck chair and stretching out. “If you promise, that is, not to admire my brawny legs too much.”
Ella sort of tittered, feigning embarrassment, then wondered out loud where the attendant could be.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.
“No, sir, you cannot. But I can buy you one,” she teased. “That is, if that confounded man ever shows up to take our order. It’s been a trying morning, and I could certainly use a stiff drink.”
“But it looks like the fishing was pretty good.”
“Just fair, but fishing wasn’t the problem. We had a very unpleasant incident with a bunch of young people down on the beach—ruffians who talked perfectly terrible to me and Goldie and caused a bad commotion. I just don’t know what’s happening to this young generation, Dr. O’Conner. No manners whatsoever, dressed like bums, and…their vulgar language is unspeakable, absolutely appalling.”
“Yes, I know what you mean,” he agreed, “and sometimes I worry about Rex and Tom—though Elizabeth and Sal seem to be doing a pretty good job raising them.”
Ella snapped her head around. “Why, I should say they are, Dr. O’Conner—at least from what I’ve noticed so far. Those two boys behave like angels compared with the riffraff we encountered this morning.”
“Thank you, Miss Ella. That’s encouraging. My wife, Grace, used to worry since Sal and Lizzy waited so long to have children. But Grace always worried much too much about everything and everybody—myself included.”
“It sounds like she was a very good person.”
“The best,” he said almost somberly. “Grace was selfless. Yes, a very good and caring woman.”
“My husband was also a big worrier,” Ella began. “Earl worried about me and the children, and expanding his business more and more, and where we should travel next, and whether we’d end up having two dimes to rub together. Of course, there was really no reason in this world for Earl to push himself so, but he did, and I’m afraid that’s what killed him. In fact, I know that’s what struck him down—that and being overweight. Lord, Earl loved to eat good food, and now I have to worry myself sick over my younger son, Little Earl, who’s also heavy and loves to eat as much as his daddy did.”
O’Conner reached over and patted her gently on one hand covered with faint liver spots. “I bet you’re a good cook.”
“Well, I do love to cook when I have time, and I’m not too bad at certain Southern dishes, but, to tell the truth, I can’t hold a candle to Goldie. She’s become a genius in the kitchen, and I couldn’t get along and entertain without her—not on your life.”
He patted her again. “Let me ask you another question. Does it ever appear to you that seniors like us live too much in the past? I worry about that.”
“Well, first of all, Dr. O’Conner, I dislike that term ‘seniors’ more than I can say. We’re old people, so why not just call it like it is? Seniors: sounds like those in the last year of high school. In any case, sometimes I think I actually strive to live in the past. In fact, I guess I make every effort to live in the past since I understand the past so much better than the present. And I tell you, my era was so much more gracious and beautiful and…civilized than this vulgar age of computers and cell phones and jet travel and sloppy clothes and…racial violence everywhere you look. And, you see, Dr. O’Conner, I don’t give a hoot if people think I’m old-fashioned and cranky and set in my ways. I think I’ve earned it, and I’m not about to change—not for one second.”
He looked over admiringly at her. “You don’t mind expressing your opinions, do you?”
“I should say I do not—not in the least.” She laughed again. “At our age, honey, there’s no time to beat around the bush.” She then pointed at Goldie and the two boys at their powwow. “Now, those kids have all the time in the world to adapt to changes, and discover new horizons, and create memories—and that’s their right. Me, I’m too busy trying to understand every aspect of my past and just survive in the present. Does that make one grain of sense?”
Before he could comment, they were interrupted by the uniformed cabana attendant apologizing and explaining that management up at the inn had called him on his cell phone to help move a large planter in the dining room. Ella decided she wanted a Zombie, and after she explained to O’Conner what the strong rum drink was and that she and Earl used to sip them before lunch, he said to make it two. By this time, Ella had forgotten all about the unpleasant episode on the beach, and the more she reflected on the evening before in the lounge and the charm of this Yankee doctor paying her so much attention, the more she began to feel like the permissive young lady who was once the belle of Charleston. She was on the verge of telling O’Conner more about those glorious days before her marriage, in fact, when they both noticed Goldie holding her arms out wide as if she were gliding in the air while Rex and Tommy watched and listened in utter fascination.
“And one day long, long ago,” she was saying, “the Great Buzzard swooped down over the new earth where my people now live, and when his wings brushed the ground, huge mountains rose up in the mist and faded into the sky. For many seasons, my people lived there happily with the deer and buffalo and bear, but then evil strangers came to the mountains to dig for the shiny metal that glowed like the sun, and most of my people were taken away to a distant land in the West where many suffered and died of sickness. But a few escaped into the hills, and that’s when the Great Buzzard returned. And when his wings touched one of the mountains, the mountain opened up, and on the other side were green fields and large rivers and forests and many deer and buffalo, and after my people passed through, the Great Buzzard closed the mountain so the Cherokees would be safe. Today, we call this land the Qualla Boundary, and we believe it is still protected by the spirit of the Great Buzzard—the same buzzard you see on my necklace.”
When Goldie raised her arms again, Ella smiled warmly. “I’m sure she’s telling the boys the Great Buzzard tale about how the bird saved the Cherokee tribe. Of course, it’s all superstition, but, you know, I find it a very beautiful story. It’s something, I can assure you, they won’t be taught in school.”
At that moment, Sal and Elizabeth returned from their walk and, intrigued, stood observing Goldie with their two sons till O’Conner waved them over and explained the curious powwow. In a short while, the younger couple reminded everybody that it was time to change for lunch, prompting Ella to ask them if they’d ever driven down to Pawleys Island to eat crab cakes and roam about the old rice plantations along the Waccamaw River. Elizabeth said they had indeed taken the boys to visit the venerable Hammock Shop at Pawleys on a previous trip, but when O’Conner professed total ignorance of these attractions, Ella insisted that he let her drive him down that very afternoon to visit the shop, as well as the nearby antebellum All Saints Episcopal Church. No mention was made of anyone else joining them, and when the expression on Elizabeth’s face betrayed her doubts about this elderly lady and her dad zooming alone down Highway 17, all Ella did was take her arm and mutter, “Don’t worry, dear, I drive all the time and have never so much as dented a fender.”
Chapter 8
WACCAMAW NEC
K
Normally, Little Earl might go a couple of days without calling Ella, but since he and Olivia were determined to have their mother see the doctor whether she liked it or not, he’d phoned her repeatedly on Monday afternoon to tell her that she had an appointment with Dr. Singer and that they expected her to cooperate. When there was no answer, he’d figured she must be out with Goldie doing one thing or another, but when she didn’t pick up even at night, he’d become alarmed and driven over to the house, only to see all the lights out and Goldie’s old Chevy parked in the driveway. Letting himself in with his key, he’d gone directly to his mother’s bedroom, and when she was nowhere to be found, he’d called Liv on his cell phone, asked if she knew anything, and told her she’d better come right over.
“What in hell’s happening around here?” he said fretfully when his sister showed up. “What kind of stunt has she pulled now?”
“Well, I think it’s perfectly obvious she’s gone somewhere with Goldie,” Olivia had reckoned in her simplistic way. “Lord, I hope she’s all right.”
“But where? Mama’s never gone anywhere without telling you or me, and if Goldie took her to the hospital for some reason, somebody would have called by now.”
“Maybe she’s really ticked off about us wanting her to go to the doctor, and, you know, when Mama’s really mad, there’s no telling what she might do.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, child. Mama’s capable of doing lots of crazy things, but I can’t imagine…Why, she’d never just pick up and leave, no matter what. Where would she go? Let’s run next door and ask the Richardsons if they know anything.”
When the neighbors appeared as surprised and concerned as Earl and Olivia, he’d suggested they return home and begin calling some of Ella’s friends, which did little more than bring Lilybelle Armstrong, Jinks Ferguson, Lulu Woodside, and a few others close to hysteria. Then he’d decided to wait till the next morning, and if there was still no sign of his mother, he’d have no alternative but to notify the police and have them start a trace on her car. Which is exactly what was done the following day when it became clear that Mama Ella had simply disappeared. Obviously, the entire ordeal was not only a terrible worry for the family but an appalling embarrassment.
