by Rachel Coker
“Does it have any Spanish in it?”
I glanced at the book and shook my head. “No,” I said dryly.
Cliff raised an eyebrow. “Any spaceships? Any astronauts?”
“Any peanut butter?” Grandpop Barley called from the armchair in Cliff’s room. Since my parents were off at another political thing, I kind of had to keep him close by.
A smile threatened to escape my tightly pressed lips. “I don’t think so. Now do you two want to hear it or not?”
Cliff shrugged and snuggled under his covers. Grandpop Barley, seated a safe distance away, raised his eyes to the ceiling.
I’ll take that as a yes. The spine of the book opened with a crack, and some dust spurted up into the air. I coughed and waved it away. If this is Mrs. Greene’s favorite, then why does it look as if it hasn’t been opened in fifty years?
I cleared my throat and scooted closer to the bed. “Peter and Wendy. By J. M. Barrie. Chapter One.” The print was small and faded. I held the book up to the lamplight. “‘All children, except one, grow up …”
Cliff listened with alert eyes, considering every word. Whenever we read, he always lay back on the pillows with his hands clutching the sheets until his knuckles grew white. Clutching the sheets must have worn him out, because by the end of a half-hour of reading, he was usually sound asleep.
This time, his eyelids were still fluttering when I closed the book. I sat on the floor in silence for several minutes, thinking over what I had read. The thought had never occurred to me. To never grow up …
“Scarlett?” Cliff murmured.
I jolted to attention. “Yes?”
Cliff blinked and yawned. “It did have stars in it. I thought it might.”
“Second star to the right and straight on til morning.”
“What do you think it would be like …” A smile glowed on Cliff’s half-awake face. “To fly? If I could fly, I’d fly to Jupiter. And then I’d fly all the way through all the stars and the Milky Way and see all the planets. And then you know what I’d do?”
“No, I don’t. What would you do?”
Cliff closed his eyes and rolled over so that he faced the wall. “I’d fly back home,” he murmured. “And take you with me.”
I stared at him until I saw his sheets begin to rise and fall heavily. My eyes were stinging with tears. “I’d like to go with you,” I whispered.
Grandpop Barley gave a loud snort. I whipped around to see him doubled over in the armchair, sound asleep.
I rolled my eyes. Oh, great. Rubbing his shoulders, I tried to wake him as quietly as possible. “Come on, Grandpop Barley. We’ve got to get you upstairs.”
He blinked at me. “Oh, good, Scarlett. You’re awake. I wanted to ask you …”
I helped him out of the chair and led him down the hall. “This way,” I whispered.
Grandpop Barley’s voice was heavy with sleep. “What you read about maps in the mind. Is that true?”
I grunted under his heavy weight. I’ve just got to make it up the stairs. “No, Grandpop. It’s just a book.”
“Oh.” He sighed. “I would like to see my mind map. I would like to know where it leads.”
I paused in the doorway of his bedroom. “Okay, now you’ve already got your pajamas on, so do you think you can go to bed by yourself?”
Grandpop Barley nodded and disappeared.
A door opened downstairs, and I could hear Mama and Dad’s voices in the hallway. Dad’s was loud—angry. Things sounded stressful. As usual.
I leaned against the railing at the top of the steps, trying to make out their conversation. Dad was complaining about something to do with the new governor. I leaned forward a little bit more. The wood groaned beneath me, and the railing wobbled. Whoa. I took a step back, away from the unsteady rail. Well, it’s obviously not safe enough to eavesdrop from here. The thought crossed my mind again that I needed to tell Dad to fix that the banister, but I tromped down the steps instead and into the kitchen. I was going to face them head on.
They looked up when I entered the kitchen, and I froze. I cleared my throat. “How was the meeting?”
Dad looked up with tired eyes. He shook his head. “Not good.”
Mama was pulling off her sweater. She opened the refrigerator and grabbed a carton. “Milk?”
“Sure.” I sat at the table across from Dad and watched as Mama poured a glass for me. Then she kissed my cheek. “You need to go to bed, Scarlett. Good night.”
I drank the milk in one gulp and gave her a quick squeeze back. “Night.” Then I pushed away from the table and left the kitchen. Dad began arguing again as soon as I started climbing the stairs.
“But, Vida, we’ve got to give this man money. I just know that, with him as our governor, things will get better.”
“Things will not get better, Bill! Things are going to get worse. I keep telling you …”
I blotted them out of my mind. My hand draped across the stair rail, running the length of the smooth wood. All the thoughts in my head felt jumbled up and confusing. I thought back to what Mrs. Greene had said about God taking away hopelessness and giving peace. Every time I tried to pray, I just felt more confused. Like I was talking to thin air. Nothing ever changed.
Juli was knocked out on her bed, her face buried in the pillows. I switched on the lamp and looked her over as I undressed. She was still wearing the same brightly colored dress and her hair was a rat’s nest. Her hands clutched the pillow like she was caught in some bad dream.
I felt sorry for my sister. She looked scared and alone and sad. Just like Mama and Dad, I guess.
I pulled off my shoes and climbed into bed, turning off the lamp. Maybe getting sad is part of growing up. I guess that’s why Peter Pan was so scared. Because things change, and you can’t stop them from changing.
I swallowed. Maybe that’s why Cliff is the only happy one in the house. Maybe one day I’ll grow up and become unhappy just like everyone else, and he’ll be the only lucky one left.
The room suddenly felt cold and empty. I tucked the blankets under my chin. My thoughts ran back to Cliff and the look on his face when I was reading the story. He laughed and frowned at all the right parts like he understood Peter completely. Somewhere in his strange childlike mind, Cliff understood Neverland. And it made me want to understand it too.
My eyelids fluttered closed, and the bedroom became a wonderland in my mind. I was soaring through the stars with Cliff, and I was so close to reaching the moon. I wasn’t caught between childhood and adulthood or money and poverty or any of that other complicated stuff. I was just flying. And it felt so good.
Chapter 10
The skirt’s netting scratched at my bare legs. I pulled at the green cotton, making a face. “Mama!” I shouted. “This dress is really itchy!”
“I don’t care! You’re wearing it to the party, and that’s that!”
Ugh. I glanced back in the mirror, turning to see if my outfit looked better from the back. Not really.
The dress was a green with a small sunflower print. The skirt was wide and full and stuffed with netted crinoline. A wide yellow sash hugged my waist and tied into a large bow in the back. It had been Juli’s dress four years ago, and unfortunately I was still skinny enough to fit into it.
Why don’t I ever get any new party dresses? An irritated feeling settled in my stomach, making my cheeks hot.
I stepped closer to the mirror to examine my face. My hair was down, but at least it was decent-looking for once. The auburn waves stayed closer to my head instead of poufing out into a frizzy mess. Actually, it looked kind of pretty if I turned just the right way.
My cheekbones were high and covered in a light dusting of freckles. The small indent was still there, the one that Frank said was an angel’s kiss. I guess it always will be there. I brushed a finger across it before lowering my hand.
I wasn’t very beautiful, especially compared to Juli, but I wasn’t really ugly either, or even plain. I was just
pretty enough not to be pitied and just ordinary enough not to be noticed. Mama always said I had beautiful eyes, though. They were that same sea-green color of my dress and framed by thick lashes. When Cliff was a toddler, he would ask why I had “ocean eyes,” while everyone else’s were just plain brown.
“Scarlett!” Mama shouted, jolting me from my thoughts.
“Coming!” I pulled on a pair of dressy sandals and straightened my sash. Then I bolted down the stairs to join my family waiting by the door.
Cliff held the picnic basket containing three peach pies. He was beaming, his hair brushed back. Juli was also waiting, with a smirk on her face. Almost all of the blue had faded from her hair, leaving it a streaky gray-brown color.
“Are we ready?” Dad held open the door and shooed us out. “Come on, it’s only Independence Day once a year.”
The party had already started by the time we got there. Clad in breezy pink chiffon, Mrs. Greene greeted us at the door of her house. “Oh, are these the pies? I’ve been looking forward to them all day.” She took the basket and set it on a picnic table then waved her arm to the scenery. “Enjoy!”
It hit me that I hadn’t been in the Greenes’ backyard since the chicken incident. The wire fence and coop were gone, and the grass was green and lush. A small creek I hadn’t noticed as much before ran through the back, surrounded by large leafy trees and a few scattered picnic tables. Most of the guests had already arrived and were chatting in the warm sunlight.
Frank saw us from across the yard and waved us over. “Pretty dress,” he said, looking me over with a smile. My face flushed with pleasure. He rubbed Cliff’s head, messing up his perfect hair. “Hey, there.”
Cliff glared at him and tried in vain to smooth his hair back into place. “Hey, watch it.” He scowled, his brow puckering. Sticking his hands into his pockets, he began to rock back and forth. “What does the voice inside your head sound like? Mine is deep and smooth with a slight Spanish accent.”
Frank ignored him; his eyes darted over to where the rest of my family stood. “So Juli’s here.”
It was more of a statement than a question. I followed his eyes to where Juli stood frowning over a grill with her arms crossed. She was arguing with the man barbecuing, probably over the skewered animal’s life or something. Even though her hair was streaky, she still looked pretty fine in her golden sundress and wooden sandals. Unique—different from any of the other girls in sleepy old Georgia.
My skin felt prickly as I watched Frank watch Juli. I grabbed his arm and led him away, chatting all the while. “Doesn’t the sun feel glorious? Sometimes I wish I could just float on the surface of the water like a blade of grass and feel the heat of the sun on my face and the coolness of the water on my back.”
Frank glanced at me and raised an eyebrow. “You know, you say the strangest things sometimes.”
I couldn’t tell if that was supposed to be a compliment or an insult. My face heated. I lowered my eyes and dropped his arm. We were at the edge of the little creek watching the water break and ripple over the smooth rocks. Behind us, laughter and voices filled the yard.
A small pink flower floated on the surface of the water. It twirled slowly, drifting down the creek. So lovely and so innocent. I wonder what Frank’s thinking about. I glanced up at him. He was staring back at the party, a smile hidden in the corner of his mouth.
I followed his gaze. Juli. She was laughing. Laughing at something the barbecuing, animal-skewering man was saying. Her face came alive when she laughed; her eyes crinkled and dimples appeared in the middle of her cheeks.
Frank turned to me. “I, uh, think I’m going to get something to drink. Or eat. You know.” He flashed me one of his hundred-watt smiles and rejoined the party.
I was left standing by myself at the water’s edge. My cheeks felt cold all of a sudden, all the blood drained from them. I wrapped my arms around my chest, covering the cheerful sunflowers on my dress. I’m so childish. So scrawny and babyish.
“Knock, knock.”
Cliff’s voice broke through my thoughts. I looked down to see him standing by my side, hands in his pockets. I groaned. “Not now, Cliff.”
“Knock, knock,” he said again, more persistent this time.
He obviously wasn’t going to leave until he got his joke out. “Who’s there?”
“Tank.”
“Tank who?”
“You’re welcome!” He burst into giggles like this was the funniest thing ever.
“Nice.” I faked a smile and looked away.
Cliff’s mood suddenly turned serious and he sighed as if something heavy had been weighing on his mind. “You know, I’ve been thinking. Peter Pan would be able to get to Neverland much faster if he used rocket power. Now, I haven’t got the whole thing figured out yet, but they could build a rocket big enough for all of the Lost Boys and Wendy, John, and Michael—and Peter could be the captain! It would get there in no time and there would be less danger of pirates shooting them down.” He grinned until his cheeks looked ready to burst. “Pirates can’t hit something flying at rocket speed.”
I sighed. “Cliff, what happened to Grandpop Barley? Is he with Mama and Dad?”
An injured look washed over Cliff’s face. He crossed his arms. “Hey, haven’t you been listening to me?”
My head began to hurt. I rubbed it and forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m sorry. Sounds great.” I began walking back toward the party. Cliff fell into step beside me, and I turned his way. “So are you going to pilot your rocket to Neverland now?”
He shook his head. “It’s not real.”
I blinked. “Oh, and so you’re really going to Jupiter?”
“Of course!”
I swallowed a laugh. “Oh. Okay.”
When we got closer to the rest of the group, I noticed Grandpop Barley was standing by one of the many picnic tables and talking with Pastor Greene. One hand firmly clutched the end of his red tie, while the other was casually stuffed in his pocket. “Yes, siree, Reverend. Things are a-changing, I hope. Someday it’ll be different.” His face cracked into a smile. “Just you wait and see.”
Pastor Greene looked up as we approached. “Oh, hello, Scarlett and Cliff. I’m so glad your family could join us. Beautiful weather, isn’t it?” He glanced up at the sky. “I was just talking to your grandfather here about when he was a boy. In fact …” Looking around to see if anyone could hear, he leaned in and whispered something in Grandpop’s ear.
Grandpop Barley’s eyebrows shot up. “Where?”
Pastor Greene pointed in reply, motioning toward the edge of the house. Grandpop Barley smiled again and made a beeline in that direction.
Cliff frowned and turned toward Pastor Greene. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him that Mrs. Ima Nice had just arrived.” He lifted a pitcher. “Lemonade?”
I let him pour a glass for me and took a big sip, enjoying the sugary relief. I licked my lips. “Why is he so interested in her?” I still couldn’t figure out his sudden attraction to Mrs. Nice.
Pastor Greene cleared his throat. His brown eyes squinted from the sun. “Because Ima Nice, or Ima Kilpatrick as she was known then, used to be his sweetheart. Apparently, everyone thought they would marry back in the spring of 1917, but I guess one of them called it off.” He cleared his throat. “I think it may have had to do with the difference in backgrounds. Anyway, Mrs. Nice married a stock broker from New York, and your grandfather worked on a peach farm for the next five years until he met your grandmother.”
I frowned. “How do you know that?” Has he been investigating our family history or something?
Pastor Greene wiggled his eyebrows. “Mrs. Nice tells me a lot on my pastoral visits. She’s really a sweet lady deep down inside. And she loved your grandfather very, very much.”
“Oh.” So he used to have it bad for Mrs. Nice. That would explain his infatuation with her the other afternoon. Grandpop Barley in love.
“Hey, I didn’t know Fra
nk was friends with Juli.”
Cliff’s words jolted me to attention. I blinked, following his pointed finger. Frank and Juli were standing by the water’s edge, talking. They bent their heads toward each other as if sharing some secret. Smiles glowed on both their faces.
Everything inside me stung. That’s where he and I were just standing. How can he stand there with her and feel everything, but when it’s me beside him he feels nothing at all?
“I’m going to try and find some Doritos,” Cliff said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Maybe they’ll have some!” He darted off, scurrying past people and leaving a wake of whispers behind him.
I carried my glass of lemonade and stood by the fence where I wouldn’t be noticed. Then I leaned against the weathered wood and watched the party. I observed old people bickering, young people laughing, and children running around. But mostly, I watched Frank and Juli.
He loves her. He doesn’t even know her, and he loves her. The thought bothered me beyond rationality. Why should I care? Why should it bother me that though they know absolutely nothing about each other, they’re standing there and … Oh! The thought made me want to kick something.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
I looked up to see Mrs. Greene with a giant slice of peach pie. She lifted her fork and pointed it at me. “I just thought I’d come over and tell you how delicious this is.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, lowering my gaze.
Mrs. Greene leaned against the fence beside me and let out a long, leisurely sigh. Then she turned to me. “What’s bothering you, Scarlett? Something’s wrong.”
I shrugged. “It’s nothing.”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded toward Frank and Juli. “They seem happy together, don’t they?”
A rush of pressure built up in my chest. “Well, they shouldn’t be! Juli already has a boyfriend. And they know nothing about each other.”
Mrs. Green raised an eyebrow. She slowly lifted another forkful of pie to her lips and chewed while I stood in shameful silence. Nice outburst, Scarlett. Real nice.
“Does it bother you? Them being together, I mean.”
