Walking with Miss Millie

by Tamara Bundy

  Pam just walked on around to the backyard to find Eddie, but Jake stopped in front of me. “Hey.”

  I wasn’t in a mood to chat, but knowing I was heading to where Miss Millie was, it was like she was nudging me to be nice. “Hey,” I managed to say back.

  He nodded to Clarence. “Y’all takin’ care of him now?”

  “Uh-huh,” I said, bobbing my head up and down.

  Jake leaned over to pet Clarence, who must’ve remembered him saving his life and all, ’cause his tail started wagging real happy-like. Jake laughed as he petted him some more.

  I just stood there, wanting to go, when Jake stopped petting him and looked me right in the eye. “She was real nice, wasn’t she?”

  I nodded again.

  And still looking right in my eyes, Jake McHale said the darndest thing. “Can I come over sometime? Maybe with Pam? Ya know, to see the dog and all?”

  And since the boy plumb saved the dog’s life, I couldn’t very well tell him no, could I? “Sure.” I nodded again.

  Jake beamed and stood up. “Thanks!” And then he saw Eddie and Pam walking out front. Pam motioned for Eddie to look at Jake, whose face turned all serious-like, like he was getting ready to perform a speech he’d been practicing.

  “Go ahead—like I taught ya,” Pam encouraged her brother.

  Jake then signed in a kind of awkward way, “Hi, Eddie.” By the time he got done fingerspelling Eddie’s name, I wasn’t sure which one of those boys had the bigger smile on their face.

  Maybe Pam’s smile was biggest of all.

  But my own heart wasn’t ready to smile just yet. I had to get back to Miss Millie.

  chapter 30

  Clarence and I made it to the cemetery in pretty good time. Somehow, with Miss Millie gone, Clarence didn’t mind me walking him at all anymore.

  But when we got to that old, rusty iron gate, I just couldn’t go on in. My feet froze to the dry and dusty ground. It wasn’t because I was scared this time.

  I knew I needed to get to Miss Millie. But more than that, I knew deep in my heart that when I left her this time, it really would be the last time.

  She was gone.

  Miss Millie was gone.

  I sat down in the dirt right there, outside the cemetery.

  While I was hugging both the hatbox and Clarence tight to my chest, my tears . . . the same tears that had been stuck inside for the last few days . . . finally decided to fall. Clarence let himself be held like that, even rubbing his head against mine, like he was offering himself as a hankie.

  And I cried and cried some more.

  Not sure how long we sat like that, but all at once, through my tears, right there at the gate of the cemetery, I heard something behind us. I gasped, making Clarence jump back and growl. My hurt heart started thudding out of fear.

  Then I saw what was making the noise.

  Right there, like they all knew I didn’t really want to be alone, stood Eddie, Pam and Jake.

  “What are you guys doing here?” I asked, sniffing, wiping my eyes on the back of my arm.

  Pam spoke first. “We . . . um . . . we know how y’all hate cemeteries and we had a feeling y’all was headed here.” Then she grinned at me.

  I stood up, brushed off my sundress and smiled back. “Thanks.” I looked at each of them standing there. My voice was shaking like I was back on Grandma’s bumpy road. “Maybe I’m starting to not mind cemeteries so much, now. But I’m glad you guys are here.”

  Eddie grinned and signed, “Never forget.” I nodded and turned to walk through the wrought-iron gate of the cemetery as everyone followed.

  Together, we walked way to the back of the cemetery, past the bench under the old oak tree, past the big gravestones and past all the pretty flowers until I found the grave site of Miss Millie. The workers had just covered up the grave, so the Georgia clay was glistening red and shiny in the sunshine. Mama promised we would buy her a cross to match Mr. Clayton’s.

  I first headed back over to Mr. Clayton’s cross and put my hand on it again. Eddie, Pam and Jake stood back, giving Clarence and me some privacy, like I used to do for Miss Millie. Unlike earlier, this time I found some words. “Mr. Clayton, I’m happy you and Miss Millie are back together. But I’m sorry she had to leave here to make that happen. And I wish your boy could be with you in this place—but I know you’re all together where it really counts.”

  Then I looked at Clarence, who I swear was looking right at me, listening. “Please take care of Miss Millie for us, okay?”

  Clarence’s tooth stuck out even more, like he was telling me that was exactly what he wanted to say.

  And then I turned to the shining mound of clay showing me where Miss Millie was buried. I just stood there for a few minutes not saying anything, but hoping my heart said something I couldn’t.

  Finally, I knelt on the hard Georgia ground. Clarence turned around in a circle like he was trying to figure out how to kneel, but instead finally sat down next to me.

  And sitting right there in the back of the cemetery, a panting dog at my side, with an audience I never would’ve expected so close by, I thought about my time in Rainbow.

  I thought of Daddy and how a small part of me would always be waiting for him, even though he might never show up.

  I thought of Mama and how a big part of me would always be glad she made me go see Miss Millie that one day.

  And I thought of Miss Millie and me and how different we were. But what made us different wasn’t one lick as important as what made us the same. Me and Miss Millie knew that.

  Then I pulled out the hatbox full of all the treasures she’d shared with me. If a pie plate might help Miss Millie on her journey, one of these treasures surely couldn’t hurt. I looked through the box.

  It was funny—when she gave them to me, they were just things. But now they were so much more. I wasn’t sure I could part with any of them.

  But then I saw it.

  Miss Ruth’s scallop shell.

  We might all come from different directions, she’d said. But hopefully, we all end up at the same place one day. I pulled it out and wrapped my fingers around it like that day Miss Millie gave it to me. And then I put it in the spot close to where her cross would go.

  Then there was one more thing I had to give her. I pulled out a folded piece of paper from my pocket and recited the poem I wrote for her.

  I’m happy you’re in heaven.

  It’s where you deserve to be.

  But still I know each step I take

  You’ll always walk with me.

  I don’t know if it was as good as Daddy’s poems, but I liked it just fine and I bet Miss Millie would have, too. Writing her a poem felt kind of like talking to her—it made me feel better. I folded the poem back up and put it under Miss Ruth’s shell.

  Picking up the hatbox again, I saw my letter. I’d read it so many times I had it memorized. But I needed to read it again.

  Alice-girl,

  I never been one to get all mushy so no need to start now.

  But I want to make sure you know you’re a real fine young lady.

  You said there’s no rainbows in Rainbow.

  But I disagree. You’re a rainbow in a sometimes dark world.

  Keep shining, my Alice-girl. Keep shining.

  Love,

  Mrs. Millie Miller

  I looked again at that old hatbox, thinking about those Latin words, and started to think, for a hatbox, it was pretty smart. Maybe sometimes you do have to move to progress—and end up where you’re supposed to be.

  But speaking of moving and progressing, I knew for a dang fact that Miss Millie would not want any of us sitting there getting all mushy in that cemetery on her account for much longer.

  I picked up my hatbox of treasures and started walking back to my friends.
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br />   But before I walked away from Miss Millie’s resting place, I looked up to heaven.

  On this clear summer day, there was not a cloud in the sky.

  But I swear that there, high in the sky, shining like nobody’s business, was the prettiest rainbow I ever did see.

  I smiled as I heard Miss Millie’s voice saying, “Don’t that beat all!”

  And it did! Miss Millie and that rainbow sure did.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I thank every author of every book used in a book report I graded as an English teacher, prompting me to want to write novels, too.

  To my agent Steven Chudney, for believing in my first manuscript when it still had far to go and for pushing me to go deeper to make it better and better, I am so grateful. And for managing to get the amazing Nancy Paulsen on board as editor, I am beyond thankful. Nancy’s brilliant insights into my make-believe world made me fall in love with these characters like they were family. And her love for them made me trust the editing process like I never had before. Nancy’s awesome assistant, Sara LaFleur, and everyone who worked on this impressed me with their incredible care, kindness, and craft.

  The writing process could become a lonely art form. But with people like my writing “twin,” Laura Smith, who offer encouragement, prayers, critiques, and friendship, it is absolutely a blessing.

  Every early reader offered insights and inspiration that proved immensely helpful. Thank you all for giving me your time, opinions, and support.

  And I wouldn’t want to write without the love and support of my family:

  My mom and dad, who first told me I could write and never stopped believing it.

  My sister, Kathy, whose love of books inspired me.

  My brother, Tim, whose world of silence gave me fruitful ground on which to grow Alice’s brother’s world.

  To Megan, Katey, Ryan, and Evan, nothing I will ever do in life will be as wonderful and meaningful as being your mom. Thank you for being.

  And to Brad: for more than thirty years, you have given me support, praise, (constructive) criticism, encouragement, and, of course, your love. “Thank you” doesn’t seem like enough.

  To all my students at Colerain High School (and every student in the world), the book you are holding in your hands right now was once just a dream. Your dreams are just as possible—don’t let anyone tell you differently.

  Finally, thank you to Miss Martha, whose daily dog-walks with my young daughter planted a tiny seed.

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