Comfort

by Joyce Moyer Hostetter

Answers come easy to people who never have problems.

  Then Peggy Sue cocked her head and studied me for a minute. “Can I cut your hair before you go?”

  “Oh,” I said. “Well, I’d have to ask my mother.”

  So Peggy Sue asked Momma if I could go home with her for the day. “I want to give her a new hairdo,” she said. “In case she meets any boys down there in Georgia.”

  Momma laughed. “Ann Fay’s not going there for boys.” She looked at me and asked, “Do you want to have your hair cut?”

  “I might,” I said. “I’m still thinking about it.”

  Like I said before, Peggy Sue has a knack for getting what she wants. After we ate dinner at her house, she sat me down at her dressing table. She handed me a magazine with movie stars in it and showed me a style one of them was wearing. “What do you think of that look? Your hair will curl more if you cut it shorter.” And just like that, she started snipping.

  Sure enough, when she was done, it fell into soft waves. She fluffed them with her fingers, and I couldn’t believe how she made me look. “Daddy will think his tomboy has disappeared,” I said.

  “Well, for Pete’s sake, it’s time to take advantage of your strong points. You’ve got the prettiest black hair and blue eyes. But that’s what you’ve got to call attention to.”

  Later, when Mr. Rhinehart was driving me home, I started wondering what Peggy Sue had meant by that. What was she saying—that if I got all dolled up maybe boys wouldn’t notice my crippled leg?

  Momma and the girls loved my new style. “Don’t she look like a movie star?” Ida asked Daddy.

  Daddy looked at me a long time and I was scared he was going to fuss. But finally he said, “She looks too good for her raising, that’s for sure.”

  I think he liked it, though.

  Nobody at school even saw my hair because we had snow about a week before Christmas. So we got out early for Christmas vacation.

  It seemed like Warm Springs was the theme of my Christmas. I got a box of stationery with matching envelopes, a pen, and postage stamps for writing home.

  And Momma had made me a swimming suit. “You’ll need that for the water-therapy sessions,” she said. She held it in front of me and said, “Oh, you should see how the blue brings out the color in your eyes.”

  The twins got a family of tiny wooden dolls Daddy had carved for them and furniture for a dollhouse. But he didn’t have the house made yet. “Some things you just have to wait for,” he said.

  You should’ve heard the girls. Especially when Ida found a bathtub, a sink, and even a little toilet in there. “Look, Ellie!” she squealed. “Our doll family don’t even have to go to the outhouse!”

  They hugged Daddy’s neck and thanked him and told him it was the best Christmas ever. He just grunted and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. Then he got up and went outside. He didn’t seem one bit pleased about all the happiness he had just give.

  After Daddy left, the girls was playing with their new toys and Momma and I sat there guessing if it was going to snow or not. But really, we was waiting on Daddy to come back in with Momma’s gift. It’s a tradition that the last surprise of the day is always some piece of furniture he made for her.

  But Daddy didn’t come back in. Finally Momma started gathering the wrapping paper and pressing it out smooth so it could be used another year.

  I put my gifts in a pile in my room, waiting until I could pack them up for Warm Springs. Through the window I seen Daddy pacing back and forth between the johnny house and the mimosa tree. And sucking hard on his cigarette.

  After a while Momma went to the kitchen. Bessie and Junior were coming over for Christmas dinner and she wanted to be ready.

  When they got there Bessie had two pumpkin pies and Junior carried in a pan of green beans. He almost dropped them when he saw me. “What did you do to yourself?”

  “Huh?”

  “Your hair.”

  “Oh, that! What’s the matter? Don’t you like it?”

  Junior shrugged. “It’s different.” He set the pot of beans on the stove.

  “Of course he likes your hair,” said Bessie. She set down the pies and pulled me into a big hug. “Have mercy! Ann Fay, you belong in a magazine.”

  At dinner we each told what we got for Christmas. When it was Momma’s turn, Ida spoke up. “Daddy,” she asked, “where’s Momma’s present?”

  Daddy had been picking at his food and looking like he wanted to be someplace else. When Ida said that, he got up and headed for the bedroom.

  Oh good, I thought. He does have something for Momma. But then he stopped halfway across the room and turned. “I’m giving your momma a—bathroom.” He hesitated a second before he said “bathroom.” Like he just reached out and grabbed that idea off the ceiling.

  “A bathroom?” asked Ida.

  “A real live bathroom?” said Ellie. “In the house, with a tub and a toilet and everything?”

  “You heard me,” said Daddy. “With a real live everything. And while I’m at it, I’m putting in a kitchen sink with hot and cold running water.”

  “Oh, Leroy!” Momma sounded disgusted—like she knew he couldn’t afford a bathroom or a kitchen sink either.

  “Oh, Leroy, what?” Daddy come back to the table and stood over Momma. “Are you telling me you don’t want a bathroom?”

  “Where would you put a bathroom in this house?”

  “That part is easy. I’ll—I’ll close in the back porch. And Junior will help me, won’t you, Junior?”

  “Uh, yes sir, I will.” Evidently Junior thought Daddy was going to start working right that minute, because he asked, “Can I eat a piece of pie first?”

  Daddy laughed then and his smile done me good. “You got time to eat lots of pies before we get started,” he said.

  Momma just sat there looking stunned. Almost like she wanted to cry, which I didn’t blame her. I could see she didn’t for one minute believe Daddy. And if you ask me, a bathroom didn’t seem too likely.

  After dinner Daddy went out for a cigarette, and then he went to his and Momma’s bedroom and stayed there. Me and Junior helped clear the food and dishes off the table. Momma poured hot water from the steam kettle into a basin, and Bessie said, “Wouldn’t that be something, though? If Leroy got you some running water.”

  But Momma just shook her head. “You see how much gumption he’s got, don’t you?” She rolled her eyes in the direction of the bedroom. “I hold my breath every morning, just waiting to see if he’ll get out of bed or not.”

  “Have mercy,” said Bessie. “And he was always such a good provider.”

  After doing dishes, Momma and Bessie went to the living room to visit. Junior pulled out a deck of cards he’d got for Christmas and the two of us played rummy.

  It started sleeting in the late afternoon, so Momma made cocoa and Junior got the bright idea that the two of us should sit on the back porch and drink it. We sat on the woodpile next to the back door and listened to the tinkling sound of sleet on the tin roof. I liked being all shivery cold with a cup of hot cocoa to keep me warm.

  “Want me to push you on the swing?” Junior asked.

  “Oh, sure!” I said. “Why don’t I just run on over through the snow and sleet?”

  “I could carry you.”

  “And slide down on your behind from all the ice under there? No thanks, I think I’ll stay right here.”

  “Let’s see then,” said Junior. “We could crab-walk it.”

  So that’s what we done. He lifted me off the porch and the two of us walked backwards on our hands and feet with our bottoms dragging the ground. Well, actually Junior did. I tried. But mostly I dragged my backside and my heavy left leg along behind me. “I despise this brace,” I said. So Junior pulled me most of the way. I got snow and ice in my sleeves. But I didn’t care on account of we was having fun.

  Junior helped me onto the tire swing. He grabbed the ropes and started twisting until it was wound up tight. “I�
��m gonna spin you dizzy!” he said. Then just like that, he let go and I went flying around and around with ice from the tree coming down all over me. It landed inside my collar and in my ears too.

  “Junior Bledsoe—you’re in trouble!”

  Junior just laughed. “You look real cute with all that snow on your head,” he said. He dusted me off and then he sat on the ground and leaned against the walnut tree. It was getting dark but the whiteness of the snow lit everything around him. Junior and the trees and the buildings were mostly just dark friendly shapes.

  I had a feeling when I got to Georgia I was going to miss the sight of my backyard. And maybe even Junior.

  “So, anyway, what made you take a notion to cut your hair?” he asked.

  “Blame it on Peggy Sue. It was her idea. Evidently you don’t like it.”

  “I just think it’s kind of funny that you decide to get all dolled up right when you’re fixing to leave. Must be something mighty special down there in Georgia.”

  “Must be,” I said.

  “Why are you so anxious to get away from us?”

  “It’s not that. I’m just ready to be someplace where I can fit in.”

  “Well, if you don’t fit in around here, I don’t know who does.”

  “Oh, really?” I said. “How would you like being carried up and down steps and have to crawl wherever you want to go? At Warm Springs if I crab-walked across the room nobody would think a thing of it. But what I really want is to learn to walk. And get rid of this hateful brace.”

  “I’d help you get anyplace you wanted to go,” said Junior. “But I can’t blame you for wanting to do it on your own. Just make sure those people down there treat you right. And don’t go liking them better than us—understand? After all, nothing could be finer than to be in Carolina.”

  He started singing the song then. “Nothing could be finer than to be in Carolina in the morning. No one could be sweeter than my sweetie when I meet her in the morning…”

  Junior couldn’t carry a tune if he put it in the trunk of his car. So I decided I better help him out. “Where the morning glories twine around the door…”

  He stopped singing and let me finish the song. When it was over, he said, “If the roads weren’t so slick, we’d get in my car and go to town. See the Christmas lights.”

  “Well,” I said, “I wouldn’t mind it. I’m tired of being penned up in the house. Reckon those lights’ll still be up after the roads are clear?”

  “Wanna go?”

  “Why not? It might be the last chance me and you and Peggy Sue can get out before I leave for Warm Springs.”

  “Peggy Sue? What’s she got to do with this?”

  “Well, I just figured she’d go too. She’s going to be upset with me if I ride into town with you and don’t ask her to go along.”

  “Whatever for?” Junior sounded surprised. All along I thought he knew Peggy Sue had a barn-sized crush on him. And that he was loving every minute of it. Now I saw he didn’t even realize it.

  I thought it was unbelievable how someone like Junior, who knew so much about everybody and every little thing, couldn’t see something as obvious as that. Some people are plumb stupid when it comes to love!

  15

  Warm Springs, Georgia

  January 1946

  One morning toward the end of January, Junior drove us to the train station so I could leave for Warm Springs. The twins was irritable and getting on Daddy’s nerves. Momma was teary and Junior hardly said a word.

  And it was all my fault everyone was so unhappy.

  Daddy lifted me onto the train and Junior carried my suitcase and another box of my things to the porter. Every one of them came on the train to help me get settled and to give me hugs and kisses. Even Junior give me a quick hug. “Don’t forget,” he said. “Nothing could be finer than to be here in North Carolina.”

  I decided to ignore that comment. “Are you gonna write to me?” I asked.

  From the look he give me, you would think I had asked for Junior’s car. “I’d do just about anything for you, Ann Fay,” he said. “But writing letters is not one of them. If I wanna talk to you, I’ll get in my car and drive down there.” Then he winked and said, “Of course, I don’t mind if you write to me.”

  The train whistled then and Junior and my family scrambled off. The five of them looked so lost there on the platform, shrinking away from me as the train headed out of Hickory. Was I making a big mistake to leave them?

  Was this how my daddy felt the day he went off to war? I remembered how I couldn’t see him looking out the train window at us. Maybe he had the best way of coping. Not looking back was probably smart.

  But I kept thinking about the girls getting dropped off at school on the way home from the train station. And Daddy and Junior going to work late, on my account. And Momma at the house the same as every other day. Only this day she’d have one less family member coming home for supper. One less helper to keep after the girls and do little jobs around the house.

  Would she be able to stay on top of things?

  “It mostly hurts at first,” I whispered. I took Daddy’s shoelace from around my neck, and the whole way to Georgia I held my wooden Comfort. I studied her little face with its tiny nose and eyes. And her mouth, which was too small for me to see if she was fixing to frown or smile. Mostly what I loved about her was her brace and her crutches. Funny how in real life I hated mine!

  Still I rubbed my Comfort between my fingers until I figured she’d be smooth as one of Momma’s clothespins by the time I got to where I was going.

  Somewhere along the way, the clacking of the train going over the rails picked up the tune of “Nothing Could Be Finer.” It played over in my head like a stuck record until it made me plumb ill. The closer we got to Warm Springs, the more I knew I was going in the wrong direction.

  It was afternoon when the train pulled into Warm Springs. As the conductor lifted me down from the train, a tall fellow with broad shoulders stepped up. He glanced at the paper in his hand. “Ann Fay Honeycutt?”

  “That’s me.”

  “I’m Toby.” He stuck out his hand and I shook it the best I could while leaning on my crutches. “I’m a push boy at the Warm Springs Foundation. Have a seat.” He pointed to a wheelchair.

  I shook my head. “I don’t need it. I’ve got crutches.”

  “Oh, but you’re at Warm Springs now. I’ve got to take good care of you, and that means you get pushed around until the doctors decide otherwise. There’s no point in getting injured before they even examine you.”

  Even though I called myself a cripple, I hadn’t expected to be treated like one at Warm Springs. I reckon Toby saw the surprise on my face on account of he started singing:

  “I’ve got those polio blues, those polio blues.

  Wish I could lose those polio blues!

  Sent me to Warm Springs to get treatment there,

  Took away my crutches and put me in a chair.”

  Well, that made me laugh. From the sound of that song it seemed like getting demoted to a wheelchair was a normal thing. There was even a song about it. So I sat, and Toby strapped my crutches onto the back of the wheelchair and pushed me to a black car by the railroad platform.

  The porter was unloading bags. I pointed mine out, and Toby said he’d go back to get them. But first he helped me into the car.

  It only took a few minutes to get to the fancy rock pillars at the entrance of the foundation. Toby drove me right up to the big building with the door that opened by itself. “This is Georgia Hall,” he said. “It’s where you’ll socialize. And meet boys.”

  Then he winked and I thought, Is he flirting with me? But I decided probably not. For one thing, he was perfectly healthy, so why would he notice a cripple like me? And for another, he looked like he was about twenty years old. Or maybe a little younger. But at least as old as Junior Bledsoe.

  “You need to see Mr. Fred Botts,” said Toby. “The registrar’s office is
your first stop. So we won’t be getting out at the portico.” Hearing him use that rich-sounding word, portico, and seeing the beautiful white building with the tall glass windows—all of a sudden I thought about Cinderella arriving at the palace.

  And I felt like her, too—but the way she was before the fairy godmother stepped in. Not that it would matter what I was wearing. Even in a ballgown I wouldn’t know how to act going through that fine entrance with perfect strangers staring at me. So I was relieved to go to Mr. Botts’s office at the end of the building.

  “Welcome, Miss Honeycutt. I see you made it.” Mr. Botts reached across his desk to give me a handshake. “Did the railroad people treat you well?”

  I was feeling shy, but I made myself look right at him. “Yes, sir. Everyone was good to me.”

  “It looks as if your paperwork is in order. So now you can settle in and meet your roommate.” He chuckled. “At least, I hope so. Olivia flits from one thing to another, so I can’t be certain that she’s in your room at the moment.”

  Mr. Botts asked Toby to deliver my suitcase and box to my dormitory. “And please ask the folks at Kress Hall to send an attendant for Ann Fay,” he said.

  While we waited for the attendant, he asked how my family was doing. I thought about how miserable they looked on the railroad platform that morning. Were they at home right this minute regretting sending me here?

  Mr. Botts must’ve seen how I was struggling to come up with an answer. “It takes awhile for soldiers to adjust to life at home,” he said. “We have some Navy men staying here, and I can see that, besides them having polio, war has left its mark.”

  That really surprised me. “What did my daddy tell you?” I asked. I knew Daddy had talked to Mr. Botts on the phone to make plans for me coming here. But surely they hadn’t discussed his problems. As far as I could tell, Daddy wouldn’t even tell my momma what was weighing him down.

  The only other person I could think of who might’ve talked to Mr. Botts was my doctor. But how would he know about Daddy changing after the war?

  I guess Mr. Botts saw in my face how confused I was because he went on to explain. “I spoke with your benefactor, the gentleman who is sponsoring your stay at Warm Springs. He says your father is reporting to work and the two of them have an agreement.”