Cottonwood Whispers

by Jennifer Erin Valent

  His words were knife sharp, but they cut me in a whole different way than they were meant to. I could see by those pink ears of his that I’d gotten under his skin just like I’d planned, and I calmed down with uncharacteristic ease.

  “That’s just fine with me.” I let a mischievous sort of smile crawl onto my face as I backed away from him with small steps. “See you at the dance.”

  And then I walked away. I’d had the last word and was proud of it. There wasn’t any part of me that didn’t know with absolute certainty that I’d seen jealousy on Luke Talley’s face, and I was filled with more hope from one giant insult than I’d ever been by a thousand tiny pleasantries. There was meaning behind that insult, sure enough.

  I walked away from him with the swagger of a confident woman until I rounded the corner out of sight.

  And then I hightailed it over to Buddy Pernell’s.

  I may have been full of all sorts of vinegar when I’d called Luke jealous, but now that I was getting ready for the Independence Day dance with Buddy Pernell, my hands shook like wind-tossed leaves.

  “What’ll I say to him?” I asked Momma as she finished pinning my hair up for me. “We ain’t goin’ to have nothin’ to talk about.”

  “Sure you will, baby.” Momma looked at my reflection in the mirror and smiled around the bobby pin in her mouth. “You two have known each other for years.”

  “But we ain’t never gone on a date before. I ain’t never gone on a date with nobody before.”

  “Everybody’s got to have their first date sometime. Don’t you worry none.” She pulled the bobby pin from her mouth and winked at me in the mirror. “Everythin’s goin’ to be all right.”

  But Daddy wasn’t feeling things were all right. I could see it on his face as he stood in the doorway of their bedroom, watching Momma fix my hair.

  “I hope Buddy’s daddy taught him how to treat a lady,” he murmured.

  “Oh, Buddy Pernell’s been taught fine manners, Harley,” Momma scolded. “He’s grown up to be right finer than he was when he was a troublemakin’ boy. His momma and daddy saw to that.”

  Daddy was already dressed in his best clothes, and he watched me uncertainly. “Don’t you go leavin’ the party with him, Jessilyn,” he cautioned. “Ain’t no good that goes on outside in the dark at those dances.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And don’t you go dancin’ too close.”

  “Harley,” Momma said. “She ain’t a little girl no more.”

  “Don’t mean I can’t give her no rules at all.”

  “She’ll be fine. Just don’t go gettin’ her all riled up over nothin’.”

  He threw his arms out to his sides in exasperation. “It ain’t nothin’ I’m talkin’ about, Sadie. I’m just givin’ the girl some fine things to think about. Ain’t a girl that can be too careful about growin’ boys.” He pointed in my direction. “And you make sure you don’t get any funny-tastin’ punch.”

  “Harley!” Momma cried again. “Buddy Pernell ain’t like that.”

  “I’m only sayin’. Ain’t no tellin’ what boys will do when they get the drink in them.” Then he rolled his eyes and sighed. “Think of that, will you? Think of our baby with some boy who’s sneakin’ beers and smokin’ and whatnot.”

  “Harley, we seen plenty of Calloway boys take the drink, but Buddy Pernell ain’t one of them. You’ve gotten yourself so worked up you’re seein’ Buddy Pernell as a smokin’, drinkin’ hooligan. Heavens, his momma’s a temperance woman.”

  “Don’t mean nothin’ if a boy’s got a mind of his own.”

  I sat on the bench and watched the reflections of my momma and daddy as they argued, but I didn’t say a thing. I knew all too well what Buddy Pernell was like on the drink. I’d had to fight him off at the dance four years ago on this very day, and the memory of it only made me more nervous now. But I’d never told my momma and daddy about that time with Buddy, and I certainly wasn’t going to do it now that I was getting ready to walk out with him.

  By this time my stomach was in one tight knot, and I stood up with a jolt when a knock on the door sounded downstairs. “He’s here,” I yelped. “We ready, then?”

  “I s’pose,” Daddy sighed. “Guess ain’t no one around here but me who’ll listen to reason.”

  Buddy looked as fine as I’d ever seen him, but he could’ve been a movie star and he’d still never give me butterflies like I got when I was with Luke. I said hello with as much sincerity as I could around my shaky voice, and it was a good thing I managed since all my daddy could do was give him a grunting “Evenin’, boy.”

  Momma flashed Daddy a glare of warning and told Buddy he looked as handsome as his daddy, which, knowing Buddy’s daddy, I didn’t think was much of a compliment, myself. I just did my best to put on a smile and let Momma keep the conversation up while we walked down the road to the Sutters’ barn.

  There was once a time when every Independence Day dance was held in Otis Tinker’s barn, but that stopped happening when I was thirteen, ever since Mr. Tinker was hanged behind the courthouse for killing two men. It wasn’t lost on me, either, that it had been that last dance at the Tinkers’ barn when the boy walking beside me had taken drunken liberties with me. It all seemed a lifetime ago that Mr. Tinker protectively pulled Buddy away from me, but I could still remember it with ease. Just like I could remember how different he’d looked the day he saved me from Walt Blevins’s violent hands by putting a bullet through his heart. That day, he didn’t look like the man I’d known all my life, and he didn’t look like a hero who had come to the rescue of his good friend’s little girl. All Mr. Tinker looked like was a man poisoned by hatred, one who would gladly kill a man for betraying his devoted stand against racial equality.

  It still seemed it would take two lifetimes to spoil Mr. Tinker’s dreams because Gemma still wasn’t walking to the dance with us. Tonight, just like every other year, she was at a separate dance for colored folks. And just like every other year, we would be sitting across the lake from each other later that night, watching the same fireworks from different sides.

  But then, Gemma and I were separated by more than a lake these days.

  I could hear the music before we arrived at the barn, and I reached over to give Daddy’s guitar a pat. “You plan on playin’ tonight, Daddy?”

  “S’pose I will,” he replied, lifting it up to test the strings. “The old girl’s probably out of tune, I ain’t played her in so long.”

  “Ain’t no reason for you not to,” Momma told him. “I’m always sayin’ you ought to play us some songs in the evenin’s.”

  “Got some tired fingers in the evenin’s,” he said somberly.

  We got silent, and I could feel the heavy weight of money troubles sliding back over us, threatening to choke out the levity I’d hoped this evening would bring. Buddy reached out to take my arm and lead me inside, breaking the spell enough to take me by surprise and make my daddy raise an eyebrow. Momma put her elbow into Daddy’s ribs to keep him from saying anything, and then she gave me a soft shove in the back so I’d move rather than stand still in one spot out of nervousness.

  The barn was already filled with thick smoke—a mixture of cigarettes, pipes, and cigars—and I strained my eyes to scan the room, searching for familiar faces. One familiar face in particular.

  Buddy did the usual polite thing and went to fetch something to drink, and that was when I spotted Luke sitting in a chair propped up on the two back legs, his feet resting against a support post. He was dressed up all fit and handsome, and those butterflies started to stir in my stomach. Momma and Daddy were immediately caught up in talking, so I left my spot and wandered over to Luke, making sure to straighten my skirt before I did.

  “Evenin’, Luke,” I said in my best woman’s voice.

  He’d been staring off into nothing, and the sound of my voice startled him so his feet slipped off the post and the chair legs crashed to the floor with a bang. He glanced at me in em
barrassment, stopping to take a second look that thrilled me to the bone.

  “Jessilyn,” he said in a one-word greeting, standing up to tower over me.

  “Didn’t mean to startle you,” I said.

  “You didn’t.” But his cheeks were flushed and I could see he was uncomfortable. He took one more look at me and then his eyes moved back to the same nothing he’d been staring at when we came in. “You look right nice tonight, Jessie.”

  “Momma fixed my hair” was all I could manage to reply without letting my nerves show.

  Luke tapped his foot in time to the music and said, “Thought you were comin’ with Buddy Pernell.”

  “I did. He’s gettin’ some drinks.”

  Luke leaned against the post he’d had his feet up on. “Seems to me a man shouldn’t leave his date right off they get to a dance.”

  “He’s just makin’ sure I ain’t thirsty. Ain’t nothin’ wrong about that.”

  Buddy came up and interrupted us, handing me a glass full of punch. “Hey there, Luke.”

  “Pernell” was all Luke said, his eyes narrowed in Buddy’s direction.

  “Don’t Jessie look fine tonight?” Buddy asked, beaming at me in a way that made me feel wretched to the core for using him to make Luke jealous. “I swear, you’re the prettiest of the bunch, Jessie.”

  Luke crossed his arms and sighed so loudly I could hear it over the thumping bass. I caught his eye and flashed him the same sort of warning my momma flashed at Daddy, but I didn’t feel anywhere near as irritated as I looked. He could cross his arms and sigh all he wanted because I knew just where those reactions were coming from.

  I just hoped Buddy didn’t notice.

  Luke rolled his eyes in response to my look, and I had to tip my head down to try to hide the smile I couldn’t hold back.

  “You feel like dancin’, Jessie?” Buddy boomed, his voice twice as loud as the music behind us.

  In truth, I didn’t, but my momma hadn’t raised a girl to come to a dance with one boy and spend her time with another, so I nodded and smiled. “That’d be nice, Buddy. Luke, would you hold my punch for me?” I asked, knowing just how little he wanted to be left by himself as my official drink holder.

  He took my glass with a glare that should have given me cold shivers rather than melt my heart like it did, and I just kept on smiling at him. Buddy was already making his way out to the dance floor, his hand held out in expectation of mine joining it. I took another look back at Luke. “You can have it if you want. I can just get another one.”

  “Oh, I’ll have some, all right,” he whispered loudly, taking my arm to keep me from leaving. “Ain’t no tellin’ what’s in this here drink. He probably put alcohol in it to loosen you up.”

  “Luke Talley!” I said with more shock than I really felt. “You ain’t got call to talk like that to a lady.” I shook my head and told him, “You sound just like my daddy, anyhow, thinkin’ a fine boy like Buddy Pernell would do somethin’ so cheap.”

  “You’re too trustin’, Jessie; that’s your problem.”

  By now Buddy was in the middle of the dance floor alone, still holding his hand out. I smiled at him to let him know I was coming and then removed Luke’s hand from my arm. “I’m bein’ rude all because you’re worryin’ over nothin’. You can test all my drinks tonight if you want to. There ain’t nothin’ to hide, anyhow.”

  I could feel Luke’s eyes burrowing holes in Buddy’s back during the next two dances, and I felt a little sneaky for enjoying it so much when Buddy was being nothing but a gentleman.

  By the time we took a break, Luke was still standing there with my drink in his hand, looking none too happy.

  “My punch make you drunk yet?” I whispered when we reached him.

  “You think it’s so funny,” he whispered back. “But you’d be thankin’ me if I’d found somethin’ in it.”

  I was sure Buddy was wondering what we were talking about, but he didn’t say anything. He just helped me into a nearby chair and offered to get some food. “Get you somethin’ too, Luke?” he asked.

  “I already got myself a couple helpin’s while you two were dancin’ so close out there.”

  Buddy nodded, seemingly unaware of Luke’s snide remark, and left us. Luke sat next to me and I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I demanded, though I knew very well what was wrong. “You’re bein’ downright rude.”

  “And you ain’t? Hangin’ all over Buddy Pernell like he was a coatrack.”

  “I was not!”

  He looked past me and shook his head slowly. “Whatever you say, Jessie.”

  “If I’d been inappropriate, my daddy would’ve been on me in two shakes,” I told him. “You’re just overreacting.”

  “Ain’t got no reason to overreact. I’m tellin’ like I see, is all.”

  “Then you ain’t seein’ right.” I crossed my arms and sat back in my chair, making sure to smile when Buddy headed back to us with a couple of plates. “Food looks right nice, Buddy. It was nice of you.”

  “Ain’t nothin’ to wait on a pretty girl like you, Jessie.”

  Luke rolled his eyes again and started tapping his foot so hard he made the table shake. I gave his leg a good kick under the table. He shot me a harsh look, but at least he stopped the table from wobbling.

  While we ate, Buddy was as attentive as could be, and the whole time we sat at our table, Luke pouted like a four-year-old. I made a memory of it to tell my momma how Luke acted. The way I figured it, if he could act like a child, he couldn’t be all that old for a seventeen-year-old like me.

  I watched with a smile as my daddy made his way into the band and started playing his guitar with a skill that I had missed seeing. There was a time when Daddy would bring that guitar out nearly every evening, and I’d sit outside on the porch with Gemma, listening to the music float through the window screens. But Gemma and I didn’t sit on the porch together these days. And Daddy didn’t play his guitar in the evenings, either.

  Buddy winked at me and scooted his chair back, but before he could ask me to dance, Luke stood above me.

  “Like to dance, Jessie?” he asked, his jaw tense.

  My eyes shot up to meet his, and I’m sure my face must have been written all over with the shock I felt. I stumbled to say something but my tongue quit on me.

  Luke glanced at Buddy and said, “You mind?”

  “Jessie’s free to dance with anyone she wants,” Buddy said somewhat regretfully. “She ain’t got to dance every dance with me.”

  Luke turned his attention back on me and held out a hand. “Well?”

  “I s’pose.” I eyed Buddy for a second. “You sure that’s all right?”

  Buddy shrugged, taking his turn to pout. “Like I said, Jessie, ain’t any girl that’s got to dance all the dances with one man. You go on and have fun.”

  “Well . . . ,” I murmured, trying to figure out how to make my legs work again so I could stand up. “I guess if Buddy don’t mind . . .”

  “Buddy don’t mind,” Luke reassured me with impatience. “Like he said.”

  I managed to stand, and I took Luke’s hand with a trepidation I’d never felt before when I was with him. The short walk to the dance floor seemed like a beautiful eternity; despite the fact that he was acting like a spoiled child, I reveled in every step I took beside him, his hand around mine. The song was slow, and even though Luke was careful to hold on to me respectfully, I was still close enough to him to break out in goose bumps that I hoped he didn’t notice.

  It wasn’t often I found myself in Luke Talley’s arms. More often than not when I did, it was because I was crying like a child, letting his shirt soak up my tears. But I’d never found myself in his arms like a woman before, floating across the floor without words. It was like we’d danced right out of one of my daydreams.

  I peeked up at him, but he was looking over my head. “Luke?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You ain’t
got to dance with me just to be polite.” I studied his face carefully, wondering what truths I’d find there.

  “I ain’t.”

  “You sure?”

  “Jessilyn, it ain’t that big of a deal. It’s just a dance.”

  My eyes lowered involuntarily to his chest. It was a big deal to me.

  “Besides, the longer you dance with me,” he said, “the less time I have to worry about Buddy Pernell pawin’ at you.”

  My eyes popped back up at him. “He ain’t pawin’ at me.”

  “You hear that boy? He’s all ‘Jessie’s this’ and ‘Jessie’s that.’ ‘She’s just the prettiest girl in the county.’”

  “So what? There somethin’ wrong with him sayin’ nice things to me? The way I figure it, a girl’s got a right to hear nice things about herself once in a while. Lord knows you ain’t goin’ to do it.”

  “Who says I ain’t never said nice things about you?” he countered, his blue eyes icy. “I say nice things about you all the time.”

  “Since when? You ain’t never told me I was the prettiest girl in Calloway.”

  “It don’t hold I got to give you the same compliments Buddy Pernell gives you. I can come up with my own nice things to say, can’t I?”

  I wrinkled my nose at him. “You’re just makin’ excuses. If you don’t think I’m pretty, you ain’t got to say a word. It don’t bother me any.”

  “Jessie, I ain’t never said I don’t think you’re pretty.” He caught the tip of my shoe under his own and stopped to readjust himself. There was no doubt I had him worked up into a nervous lather.

  “Not sayin’ I am is near about the same as sayin’ I ain’t.”

  “Fine then, you’re pretty.”

  They were the words I’d wanted to hear for four years, but I wasn’t going to take them when he was saying them just to shut me up. “Whatever you say,” I muttered. “It don’t mean much when you yell it.”

  We had slowed our steps out of time with the music, and he nearly stopped when he put one hand under my chin and tipped it up. “I don’t make a habit of sayin’ things I don’t mean, Jessilyn,” he said in a voice so quiet it barely cleared the music. “If I say you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, I mean you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”