“I’ll come right away,” Charlene said, her mind already racing with preparations.
“Oh, Charlene, honey. I’m okay. Next week Harry will be able to get some time off, and he’ll take care of me. Harry takes good care of me,” she said, speaking warmly with sniffs. “And until then my neighbor is goin’ to come over to help. She’s really a nice lady.”
Charlene knew she did not mistake the hesitancy in Rainey’s voice. Rainey and their mother had always been the nurses of the family, not Charlene. It was a family joke how Charlene ran from illness.
She said now very sincerely, “Let me come, Rainey. I want to help. Really. This will be very good practice for me. I have to learn to tend now, with Mama gone. Jojo will come up with me. She can sleep on a pallet on the floor. I need to help you, and I really need to get away from here.”
“You come on, honey. I can’t wait to have you,” Rainey said, and when Charlene hung up she cried a little from happiness at being blessed with a sister like Rainey.
It occurred to Charlene that there would be a problem with traveling up to Rainey. Larry Joe would have to take off work to drive them, and she could hear the frustration in his voice. He was trying so hard to save his money. Her father wanted to take them, but Charlene wasn’t going for that idea at all. She considered it too long a trip for her father, although she didn’t want to say this and hurt his feelings by making him feel infirm.
She said, “Jojo’s never been on a bus, Daddy. She should have the experience.”
She telephoned the cafe and got Fayrene, who told her that the daily bus came through at six in the evening, up from Fort Worth. Charlene went around like a madwoman and had herself and Jojo and everyone else waiting in front of the cafe on the still hot concrete when the bus rolled up.
“Y’all look out for each other now.” She kissed and hugged her father and sons. “If anything happens to either one of you, I’ll kill you,” she told her sons, kissing them yet a second time. Everyone kept assuring her that Danny J. was old enough to stay at home with his brother, but Charlene suddenly felt very uncertain.
“Mom,” Larry Joe said with his wonderful grin, “you’re goin’ two hours away for maybe a week. I think we can handle it.”
She hugged him again, and then Mildred and Ruthanne, who were there, too. With one more wave to them all and instructions to take care, she followed Jojo onto the bus, where they both settled in seats much more plush than she had expected. They waved out the darkly tinted windows, and then with a whoosh and the smell of diesel exhaust, they were away, town buildings giving way to countryside trees and pastures as the bus sped along.
Charlene settled back in the seat and closed her eyes. Oh, she liked the gentle rhythm of the bus rolling down the road. She was away…away…oh, thank you, God.
The next instant her eyes popped open as she realized that she had not thought to call Joey and tell him she was leaving. She hadn’t thought of him at all.
Eighteen
The City Hall thermometer reads 90°
It would not be enough to get a boom box and recording of “Dixie” to play in response to Everett Northrupt’s “Star-Spangled Banner.” Northrupt had declared war by doing that, and no war was won by simply matching the aggressor. The Confederates had learned that the hard way. Winston had to better Northrupt. He was going to get music and more, which he had been patiently considering for some days.
He walked down his front porch steps and out into the yard, where he stood and looked back at the house. The windows glowed with light. In the living room, he could see Mildred sitting on the couch. Her head bobbed; she was watching Hawaii Five-O and eating microwave popcorn she’d gotten as free sample packets at Wal-Mart.
He sized up the situation and paced off distances in an arc around the porch. He continued on around the side of the house, into the deep shadows of the roses and trees. He had to maneuver between a couple of rosebushes. A couple of thorns snagged his clothes, and then he felt a little dizzy. He blinked, straining to focus on finding what he sought.
Okay, he found it. He got out from the rosebushes and stood still to catch his breath. There wasn’t anything to hold on to, so he stood with his hands on his knees.
“You are eighty-seven years old, Winston, and should know better than to climb through rosebushes at night.”
It was Coweta coming toward him out of the deep dark. At last.
“I don’t know what age has to do with that. I had to find the electric outlet, and I found it.” He got himself up straight. He was put out with her pointing out his age, and he was darn angry that she had been absent so long.
“You could have found it in the morning. And what do you want with it, anyway?” Her figure sort of shimmered as she bent to smell a rose blossom.
“That’s my business.”
“Oh, Winston.” She smiled at him, and he gazed at her.
“Where have you been?” he asked. “You haven’t been around here in weeks.”
“I can’t hang around here forever, Winston. I have to get on with my life.”
He thought that was pretty funny. She was dead, and he pointed that out.
“Life goes on, Winston,” she said in that graceful tone he had always loved to hear. Then she changed the subject and ordered him in a fashion he had never liked. “Winston, you need to go see our Freddy. You need to talk to him.”
“I’ve tried talkin’ to him. He just sits there at the funny farm. I told the doctors they needed to test his hearin’.” He felt a failure in connection with his son, and he didn’t like to think of it.
“You need to go try again,” she said in a pointed manner, “and you need to be firm with him. You might suggest that if he doesn’t want to go home, he can come here.”
“Here?” The idea of his son in his present state—or any state, actually—being in such close proximity was wearing. “I’ve got Mildred and Ruthanne.”
“And you still have two empty bedrooms. You could have him for a while. Time is runnin’ out, Winston.”
There was something about the way she said that. He peered at her, but he didn’t ask about it.
“I’ll go talk to him. I was goin’ to anyway. I’ll make a point of it tomorrow afternoon. I’m goin’ up to Lawton anyway.”
She smiled in a satisfied manner, came toward him and gave him a kiss on the cheek that felt like the flutter of a butterfly and patted his chest in a way that felt the same. “Cut me a rose, Winston.”
He pulled out his pocketknife and chose one.
Up in her bedroom, Vella Blaine was working lotion into her hands. She happened to glance out the window. She stopped and peered toward the Valentine home. There was that light again. Maybe it was Winston with a flashlight, like Perry said. But if it was, what was Winston doing out there at the roses in the night?
Under the light of a single bulb, Joey saddled up the red gelding. He threw on his oldest and favorite saddle, savoring the scent of the leather and the horse, his hands working quickly and his ears listening for footsteps. These days it was like Sheila was around him every minute, her dark eyes tugging on him, wanting from him. He hoped to get away before she came looking for him.
He didn’t. The door opened, and boots crunched on the gritty concrete as she entered.
“Are you going for a ride?” she asked.
“Yep.” He cast her a glance. “It’s a good night to ride him, get him used to different situations.”
He felt her gaze, sharp and wanting, raising all sorts of confusion in him. “It is a lovely night. Maybe I’ll go with you.”
“I’d rather ride alone,” he said, the words rushing out without thought. She stared at him with her big brown eyes. “I have to keep my mind on the trainin’,” he said, took the reins and led the horse out of the barn and toward the gate. Without looking back, he knew that she had come to the door and stood there watching him.
Her angry words came out through the darkness. “I’ll leave a light on for you, Joey.
But not forever.”
He threw himself on top the horse and rode away at a canter, calling himself all sorts of a fool.
The City Hall thermometer reads 87°
Mason had to discuss it with someone. He kept going over and over the list of possible people to talk to, and it was a sad thing to admit, but he didn’t have anyone close to him. For all of his life, he had talked to his Grandpap, but Grandpap was gone now. Adam was out completely. He was so desperate that he thought of Iris, but thankfully, he didn’t get that silly. That left Neville. He guessed he was closer to Neville than anyone, and that wasn’t all that close.
This was weighing on his mind when he got into the patrol car with Neville for their night on duty.
“I see they fixed the thermometer,” Mason observed as they went along Main Street.
“Yep. The mayor’s thrilled.” Neville pulled at his already open collar. “Eighty-seven degrees. I thought it was a little cooler than that. It’s seemed a little cooler since the rain.”
“That wasn’t rain, it was a giant spit.”
They drove out of town by way of Church Street. Mason looked over at the Valentine house and thought of Charlene.
“Neville?”
“Yeah?”
Words scrambled in Mason’s brain. “How would you feel if someone like me was to start dating your sister?”
“Wendy’s married, Mace,” Neville said with some alarm. “She’s got two kids. You know that.”
Mason looked at Neville. “You’re enough to drive a person crazy,” he said, squirming in his seat.
“What is goin’ on?” Neville demanded.
“It isn’t your sister. It’s nothing to do with her. It’s…I think I’d like to ask Charlene Darnell out.”
“Oh.” Giving a puzzled frown, Neville drove one-handed and pulled a butternut candy out of his breast pocket. “Well, haven’t heard if her and Joey are divorced, but he’s sure not with her, if that’s what you’re wonderin’. I saw him driving one of Sheila’s trucks and trailer just this afternoon.”
“No that’s not it.” Mason rubbed his upper lip. “I don’t guess she knows about me bein’ in prison.”
“Oh. That was a long time ago, Mason. Nobody remembers. I forget it half the time myself. Charlene probably doesn’t even know, and I doubt it would make any difference, anyway.”
“You don’t think so?”
“Mason, that fella’s death was sort of an accident. And it isn’t like you ever led some life of crime.”
“Yeah, well, prison makes its mark.” Sometimes, after all these years, he felt dirty. “I’d tell her, though. I’d want her to know.”
“Buddy, you are a puzzlement.” Neville cast him several sharp glances. “I haven’t ever seen you interested in a woman, even though a few have sure been interested in you. I’ve sort of wondered, you know.” He raised an eyebrow.
“There’s a lot you don’t know, Neville, and I’m not gettin’ into my love life with you.”
Neville looked a little disappointed. Then he said, “Charlene, huh? And you’re scared of her. I’ll be dawged. Mason MacCoy scared of somethin’.” He shook his head. “If that don’t beat all.”
Mason sighed. Sometimes Neville’s view of him as this tough guy got very wearing. He caught his reflection in the window glass. Would Charlene think of him as some tough that she didn’t want to associate with?
Yes, he was scared, because now that hope had been raised, he couldn’t seem to snuff it out.
Charlene sat cross-legged on the big king-size bed. She was doing Rainey’s fingernails. She studied the color she had just applied to her sister’s forefinger. “Did you know that manicurists are now called nail technicians?”
“Yes. I had heard that.”
“They make pretty good money, too.” Charlene went on to relate what Oralee down at Cut and Curl beauty shop had told her. “I’m thinking that maybe I could give it a try. Dixie is a certified teacher, and I could get my license while working under her.”
“You’re goin’ to go to work?” Rainey looked surprised.
“Well, I’m going to have to, Rainey. Joey can’t make enough to support himself off somewhere and us, too. Don’t you think I can do it?” Charlene didn’t want to let on, but she was having a bit of trouble in the confidence department.
“Of course you can. I was just surprised is all. You were wonderful when you were a beautician.”
“I think they may be beauty technicians or something now.”
“I don’t know about that,” Rainey said. After a minute she added hesitantly, “I think you are goin’ to need to start driving.”
“I have started,” Charlene told her. “I’ve driven up to the highway three times.”
Rainey stared at her.
Charlene bent close to her sister’s hand and pushed her reading glasses up. She was going to have to get better glasses if she wanted to do nails for a living.
“Do you know what Mason was in prison for?” she asked as she applied a clear topcoat.
“No. I just heard the rumor one time. I never felt it my business to go asking people. Why?”
“Oh, I was just wondering,” Charlene said, feeling Rainey’s eyes on her. “He brought a load of feed to the house the other day. He’s awfully nice. Prison is probably a lie thought up by somebody that was jealous.”
“Maybe. He’s sure got a body that won’t quit.”
“Oh, Rainey.” Her cheeks grew warm because she was suddenly thinking about Mason’s body.
Rainey laughed, and after a minute Charlene confessed that Mason had asked if he could come visit her, and she had said yes.
“Well, here’s something to talk about,” Rainey said with great enthusiasm.
“Not really,” Charlene said. “He never did call or come by.”
Nineteen
The City Hall thermometer reads 101°
Just before noon, Mason went to the phone on the warehouse wall and dialed the Darnell number. He got a busy signal, which he listened to for several seconds with his hand braced against the wall. He hung up and went to check over some invoices, then was back at the phone in five minutes. The line was still busy. Then customers came in, and he couldn’t try again for twenty minutes.
When the loading dock was finally empty, he went again to the phone and dialed. Ah…ringing. Four rings, while he gripped the receiver. Then Charlene’s voice came across the line. But it was her answering machine.
“Uh, this is Mason MacCoy. I’ll call back later,” he said and hung up. He wished he hadn’t said anything. She was going to think he was nuts.
He was nuts.
Flopping down on the little trailer sofa, Joey took up the phone and held it between his splayed knees and dialed his old home number. He got the darn answering machine again. He pictured it at the house, on the dining room buffet. He hated speaking to an answering machine. He hung up and sat there holding the telephone between his dusty knees. He had been getting that machine for days. Where was Charlene? She was always home. She had always been home.
Winston came out of the Wal-Mart with a box containing a supposedly easy-to-carry boom box, but he thought it was pretty heavy. He set it in the back seat and drove over to the hospital, where he went up to the psychiatric wing, stopping at the cold drink machine on the way to get two Coca-Colas. In cans, which he had never after all these years grown to like. The nurse greeted him by name, which seemed a very sad thing.
He found Freddy, and they sat in a small visiting room at the end of the hall, without a television, so not too many people ever came in there. Winston had been going over and over what to say to his son, but now that the opportunity was at hand, he felt too tired. He just sat there drinking his cold drink.
When Freddy said, “Dad, you don’t look too good. Are you feeling all right?” it came as a surprise.
“I’m tired, I guess. It’s hotter than blazes, and I got Charlene broke up from Joey, and Rainey’s in danger of losing the baby,
and I got you over here in the looney house, and your mother expects me to do something about it.”
Freddy blinked. Winston was surprised, too.
“Rainey’s gonna lose her baby?” Freddy asked, causing Winston’s eyes to widen further.
He shook his head. “She’ll be okay. She’s havin’ a bit of a time right now and has to stay in bed.”
“Oh.” He went to staring straight down at his slipper again. They got Freddy dressed, all but his shoes. Winston thought he should put on shoes, too, that maybe it would help.
He sucked in a good breath. “Look, son, I’m eighty-seven. I want to see you get straightened out, and if you don’t go ahead and start, I may not be here to help. I want to see you out of this hospital and happy again. Well, as happy as any human can be for any length of time.” Freddy had never been terribly happy. Winston didn’t want to appear to want too much.
“I don’t know, Dad.” Freddy was shaking his head. “I almost shot a man. I’m a little scared to come out of here,” he added, his voice dropping.
“Oh, Freddy, people make mistakes. People go off half-cocked. Do you think you are the first to want to shoot an IRS agent?” He paused and wiped his brow with his handkerchief. “I know it was a shock to find out that you aren’t perfect. That you could break. But put it in context. He was a mealymouthed man pushing you, and you could have shot him, but you didn’t.”
“I fired the gun, Dad.”
“You fired it in the air well over his head. You have to forgive yourself, Freddy. Nobody can do that for you but you.”
“They’re gonna get me when I get out of here. The lawyer says so.”
“The lawyer says they’re gonna get you?”
“He doesn’t say it exactly like that, but he says I’m not in a good position.”
“Son, the sooner you come out and face it, the sooner it will be over.”
Driving Lessons Page 18
