Calling Home

by Janna McMahan

  Inside, Sarah was behind the counter. “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to work today.”

  “Had to get out of my house. Kyle and Rob been in yet this morning?”

  “Not yet. You’d better watch out. Those guys will get you in trouble.”

  “They’re harmless,” Shannon said. “They’re going to teach me to ski today before the lake gets choppy. Jake brought his boat down from Lexington.”

  “I saw it tied up outside. Nice.”

  “If my mom calls, tell her you put me to cleaning a houseboat and I’ll call her back later.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “Look, Junior Miss is the first weekend in September, so I need that off.”

  “Remind me.”

  “Practice starts soon. I can’t wait.”

  The dock vibrated with solid footfalls. Jake and Rob lumbered into the restaurant and slid up onto stools on either side of Shannon. “Good morning, ladies,” Jake said. “You ready to ski, little darlin’?”

  “I guess.”

  “It’s like glass out there this morning. Best time to ski,” Rob said. “Barkeep, give me my vitamin juice. I need to start the day off right. And fix me up one for Kyle, too.”

  “We’ve got all the shit in the boat if you’re ready,” Jake said.

  The blue-and-white Glastron skimmed the lake, the Mercury growling, a crisp wake flowing from the gash it made in the water. Jake sat on the back of the captain’s chair, his face in the wind, his hand resting nonchalantly on the steering wheel. The other two lolled their heads back, their eyes shaded by reflective sunglasses. Jake suddenly cut the motor and they drifted.

  “This is as good a place as any,” he said. “Skis are in the side pockets.”

  Rob pulled out skis and a towrope.

  “You ever put these on before?” Jake asked.

  “No,” Shannon said. “I have no idea how to do this.”

  “Jump in and I’ll help you get them on and get up.”

  Shannon hesitated.

  “Why do I have to go first?”

  “We know how to ski,” Jake said. “You want to learn or not?”

  The guys whistled when she pulled off her T-shirt and slid down her shorts to reveal her bathing suit.

  “Y’all stop,” Shannon said, yanking at her blue bikini to make sure the slashes of fabric were in the right place. It was a modest bathing suit by some standards, but Shannon felt exposed, almost naked. Jake held out an orange life vest and she slid it on. He tied the front for her. Shannon jumped in the lake and went so deep that she hit cold water. She popped to the top immediately. Water rushed up her nose making her sputter and spit.

  “Don’t swallow the whole lake,” Rob said. The guys laughed.

  Jake jumped in and swam over to her. “Here. Give me your foot. Put it in the ski boot and I’ll show you how to make it fit.” Once the skis were on tight, Shannon got in a crouched position like Jake told her to, but she kept listing to one side or the other, unable to hold the skis parallel in front of her. Rob slung a ski rope their way and while they waited for the boat to make the line taut, Jake said, “You’ll do good. Stay hunkered down and keep the tips of the skis out of the water and straight. Don’t forget to let go of the rope if you fall or the water’ll pull those pretty little bikini bottoms right off.” He grinned and winked at her. “Not that that would be a bad thing.” Before she could react the rope yanked her forward a couple of feet. She struggled to keep the skis at the ready, floundering to control her position.

  Jake helped her readjust. “Ready?”

  “I guess.”

  “Go!” Jake yelled to the boat.

  The motor whined to life and Shannon was jerked forward and up onto the top of the water. She stayed crouched, amazed by how loud water slapped the bottom of the skis. Her entire body was tense with the effort to stay upright, but after a few yards, she leaned too far to one side and wiped out. The mineral taste of the water washed through her head and she was coughing again. When she came up for air the boat had circled back. Rob leaned over and said, “That was great. You’re a natural. Go again?”

  “That was good?” she asked, surprised. She had felt like a fool.

  “Hell! That was great. Nobody gets up on their first try.”

  “Okay. I’ll go again.”

  Shannon tried four more times, each time gaining ground on the last attempt until she was stable enough to unfurl from her crouch and get to the necessary position. Finally she was exhausted. Her hands ached from holding the rope handle. She nearly fell back into the lake when she tried to pull herself up the ladder into the boat. Her legs quivered and she collapsed into a seat.

  “You’ll be sore tomorrow. Water skiing uses all your muscles,” Jake said. He threaded a ski belt’s buckle and tightened it around his waist. “Give me that slalom. I’m going next.” Soon he was slicing across the wake and racing out to the side where he was nearly even with the boat, his tan legs and arms straining against the pull. He threw up giant rooster tails of water and nearly lay down when he cut back in toward the churn behind the boat.

  “He’s real good,” Rob said, steering the boat, cutting to one side to give Jake more momentum to whip across the wakes.

  “I can see that,” Shannon said. Her towel snapped around her and her heart raced as hard as when she had tried to ski herself.

  “Showoff,” Kyle said.

  By the time everyone had their turn at skiing, it was near noon and boats were chopping the water. Jake seemed to know where he was going, but Shannon was totally lost—every cove and clump of trees looked the same to her. Jake guided the runabout into a valley forming a long cove and cut the engine.

  “Let’s burn one,” he said

  They bobbed in the cove, their arms flung over lifejackets, careful not to get the joint wet as they passed it. There was a ledge about ten feet above the water and occasionally one of the guys would crawl up the bank and launch himself off with a whoop. Trees cast cool shadows in the cove and the bank was jagged with flat, crumbling shards of rock. Shannon held her breath, sank down until the flat plane of the water’s surface was just below her eyes and she thought that this must be a water skater’s view of the world.

  Jake swam to her, dove down, and she could feel water swirl around her legs. He came up on her other side and swam off. She floated on her back, her ears below the waterline where she could hear the far-off whine of a boat motor. Tree branches cut scattered patterns into the blue sky above her. She floated for the longest time that way, her arms out to her sides while she controlled her breaths—in and out, in and out, long and calming.

  Will crept into her thoughts, just started at the edges and soon her chest ached with him. At times she would go into his room and lie on his bed. The pillows still smelled of him and she could close her eyes and feel him moving around in his room, could hear the familiar sound of his footsteps from his closet to the dresser and back. But she would open her eyes and the room would be empty, her only companion Moonpie and his sad, droopy eyes. So where was Will now? Was he up in the sky, up in heaven with God like everyone said? Many people had told her that God had taken Will home, that she shouldn’t question His decisions, but Shannon thought that no God worth his salt would drown someone in a pair of rubber waders on the Fourth of July.

  “Shannon!” She sat up, treading water again.

  “What?”

  “You hungry?” Rob asked.

  “Starving.”

  Jake reached down to help her up the ladder. As she rose, water sheeted off her body and trickled down her arms and legs. She stepped into the boat and gathered her hair over her head and twisted to ring it out. She realized with a sudden jolt that all three men were staring at her dripping body and a rush came over her. This was it—the effect on men her mother had told her about. The point where, for a fraction of a second, their innermost thoughts were apparent.

  Virginia was always talking about men, how you couldn’t trust them, how
they couldn’t control themselves, how they were all out to hurt you. She’d die a thousand deaths if she knew Shannon had gone out alone with these older guys in their shiny sunglasses and bare chests. And her in a tiny bathing suit.

  “We’ve got bologna sandwiches and bologna sandwiches,” Kyle said. “What would you like?”

  “I guess I’ll take bologna.”

  They settled down in the boat to eat, popping the tops on beers and ripping open candy bars. The intense sun was comforting after the cool of the water and Shannon went to the bow to stretch out on the bench seats.

  “Did you guys hear The Who is going to have a concert in Rupp Arena?” Jake said. “It was in the Lexington paper.”

  “That’s their first concert since Cincinnati, right?” Kyle said.

  “Yeah, city council is trying to get them to do away with festival seating, but the folks at Rupp don’t really want to.”

  “You going to go?” Kyle asked.

  “Tickets are already sold out,” Jake said. “I saw the schedule for the fall and Van Halen’s playing in October. I’m going to see that show.” He played air guitar for a second.

  “Shit. I want to see that show,” Kyle said. “How much are tickets?”

  “Eight and nine dollars.”

  “I’ll go,” Rob said.

  “What about you, Shannon? You want to go?” Jake asked.

  Shannon was caught with her sandwich half in her mouth. “What?”

  He dragged each syllable out. “Do…you…want…to…go…see Van Halen in October?”

  They looked at her as she choked down a ball of white bread and said, “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t you like Van Halen?” Jake said.

  “That’s not it.”

  “Won’t your parents let you?”

  No, Shannon thought. No, my parents won’t let me. Especially not with some twenty-five-year-old guy they don’t even know.

  “That’s not it,” she said. “I have a lot I’m involved in and school starts in a couple of weeks, you know, shit like that.”

  “I’m getting tickets as soon as they go on sale,” Jake said. He cranked the boat key and the motor snarled to life. They edged out of the cove until they hit open lake. Jake gunned it across the water, and each time the boat slammed down on a wake the cans in their hands spewed beer into their laps.

  20

  Virginia slipped a spatula under the potatoes and flipped them over, revealing a crispy brown side. Tiny spatters of grease popped out and stung her hand, but she didn’t flinch. It somehow felt right to sprinkle her skin with pinpricks of pain. She was a mother and she had to wake up—to make Shannon something to eat before practice. She’d been such a bad mother the past few weeks. But Patsy had been filling in, taking an interest in Shannon and the pageant, and for that Virginia was grateful. When Patsy moved in she had thought she and her sister would end up hating each other.

  There seemed to be some unwritten rule in this town that you had to be best friends with all your family, but Virginia doubted that she would ever have chosen her sisters—not Lovey nor Patsy nor Margie—to be her buddies if given other options. But people rarely got choices about the big things in life. Important decisions got made for you. Most folks accepted that and did the best with what they were handed.

  Virginia turned the potatoes onto a plate and put them on the table. It wasn’t much, but it was all she could manage right now. She used to like to cook, was good at knowing how hot something needed to be to get a good browning, or when to turn out fudge so that it set solid instead of being too soft. But there was nobody to cook for anymore—only a sister who shouldn’t eat much and a teenager who never did. She had made nearly every bite that had gone into Will’s and Roger’s mouths. When they were out on their own all they ate was pickle bologna, but they always came home for supper. Roger had a talent for being gone all day and coming home at the exact moment she was taking rolls out of the oven.

  Virginia tried hard to have them sit down to a family meal at least once a day, but as the children got older it became harder. Now she had no reason to cook, no family to gather around the table, which might have been a good thing since everything tasted bland. She kept adding salt and still nothing turned out like it should. She’d dropped off to where she was nearly the same size she was in high school. But what good would it do a woman to be thin except to attract a man, which was the last thing she wanted. Jim had been coming around, bringing her flowers to cheer her up. She’d finally sent him away.

  His eyes told her that he had been expecting her rebuff, had figured there was no way she could get past his role in her son’s death. She told Jim that she didn’t blame him, but that she would always wonder if he could have done more to save Will. They had parted on good terms. She thought of Jim frequently, but then thoughts of Will would shove themselves into her head and she was down for the rest of the day.

  Virginia suddenly remembered that she had put a load in the washing machine two days ago. She hoped the clothes hadn’t soured. She crept down the narrow stairs to the basement. Usually on a Saturday morning, Will would have been watching cartoons in the finished side of the basement or Shannon would have been in there playing the old upright, playing that classical music until Virginia wanted to scream, but today it was so quiet that she could hear the birds outside. A shaft of sunlight made a rectangle across the floor, so Virginia didn’t bother to turn on a light. On one basement wall, plank shelves held a summer’s worth of canning. Virginia walked over and adjusted one jar of burgundy beets that seemed a little out of line. There were rows of corn, beans, peaches, tomatoes, and pink rhubarb preserves. Virginia ran her finger over the seal of a jar of green beans. As a child, her job had been to count the pings that indicated all the jars had sealed. Shannon had once commented that her mother’s jars looked happy on the shelf.

  High heels knocked across the floor over Virginia’s head. Shannon had been wearing her new shoes all over the house, striking poses in the mirror when she thought no one was watching. The floorboards shrieked when Patsy came in, scooted out a chair and lowered herself down. Virginia sat on a step and hugged her knees, listening to the muffled voices from the kitchen.

  “You look so grown-up,” Patsy said. “You should be a little kid with dirty knees and your mouth all pooched out with jawbreakers.”

  “This is my interview suit. What do you think?” Shannon’s heels clicked against the floor again.

  “It looks good. Might be a little short.”

  “I practiced sitting in it. See?” The chair scooted away from the table.

  “Put a napkin on before you get something on that pretty outfit.” Patsy said. Plates and utensils scraped. “When’s the interview?”

  “Friday. Then we have to be at the auditorium at four on Saturday.”

  “You nervous?”

  “I about throw up every time I think about it.”

  “You been keeping up with current events?”

  “I read the Louisville paper at the library every couple of days. Try to watch the news and take notes.”

  “I bet they ask you about the hostages in Iran.”

  “They’ll probably ask me to give them a summary of the politics behind the hostage crisis.”

  “Can you do that?”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  So here was her baby girl talking politics and wearing high heels and short skirts. Shannon used to make mud pies in her broken Easybake Oven out in the driveway and now she wouldn’t help dig sweet potatoes because it might ruin her nails for the pageant. Shannon wouldn’t pick blackberries because she might get chiggers and have marks on her legs. It wasn’t easy to feel close to a child pushing so hard to get away from you, but at least Shannon was aware that she deserved more than this town offered. She didn’t seem to know that women around here weren’t allowed dreams.

  “After we eat I want to see your long dress again,” Patsy said.

  “Okay,” Shannon chirped. “I’ll
put up my hair and you can tell me if it looks good with the dress.”

  Virginia had tried repeatedly to sew Shannon a pageant dress, but her hands shook too much. It was odd that she could go to work and sew all day like a zombie. She’d make production, but when she got home, all she could do was stare at the TV. Patsy had eventually picked the material up off the dining table with the tissue still pinned on and stored it in the hall closet.

  Shannon told Virginia not to worry about the dress. She’d had Kerry drive her to Louisville where she’d bought a long dress, a suit, and a couple of pairs of shoes with her money from the marina. She’d come home all dolled up, makeup on like she’d been to some Mary Kay party. Her eyes and lips ringed with color and her sweet freckles covered with some sort of concealer.

  Shannon had been the one who called Western to tell them that Will wouldn’t be coming to school there after all. Virginia had thought about making that call, had picked up the phone to do it a couple of times, but once she had misplaced the number of the athletic department and another time she got distracted by something the dog was dragging around in the backyard. After Shannon called the coach he had sent a nice note and a practice jersey with the number 48 on it and Lemmons on the back. Shannon slept in it every night, which made Virginia jumpy, but she didn’t have the heart to ask her not to wear it.

  Shannon’s birthday was only days away. She’d want to get her driver’s license as soon as possible, but the last thing Virginia needed was for her daughter to get in a car and drive away. As much as she wanted her to go to college, a part of her also desperately wanted Shannon close. What had she been thinking to let the school skip Shannon to second grade? She’d be barely seventeen when she started college, way too young to live on her own in a strange town; but Shannon would fight with her last breath to be able to.

  That was the way things were supposed to go, wasn’t it? The really sad kids weren’t the ones who grew up and moved away, but the ones who slung a house trailer in their parents’ backyard. She and Roger had been even sadder than that, living with his parents in this very house until the car wreck. It had been awfully unhappy years and she’d secretly been glad when they were the only ones in the house. With Shannon just a baby and Will into everything, Roger’s folks should have been bending over backwards to help, but that wasn’t the way things had worked. It was as if they expected Virginia to wait on them hand and foot. Roger’s mother acted like she couldn’t do for herself at all. Virginia didn’t want Shannon falling into that same trap, moving in with some boy down the road and spending her life cooking and cleaning and taking care. Shannon couldn’t help but grow up, and that was a good thing, even if it hurt like hell to watch.