Making Waves

by Cassandra King

  “Okay. But I want to be in on your thinking, you hear? Don’t you do anything or talk to her anymore until me and you talk first.”

  Tim muttered something incomprehensible under the pillow and went right on to sleep. I swear, just like a man! If I had something like that hanging over me, I couldn’t sleep a wink.

  It was a few days later that I learned what I did about that scholarship offer by Sarah Williams, something that made me determined to do everything I could to keep Tim from even thinking about taking it. I’d made up my mind to give Tim some time to himself to think. I was able to turn loose since he seemed to be doing so well and was not all tied up in knots like before.

  Personally I didn’t think Tim had an ounce of desire to be an artist. Why, the idea was near-bout funny to me! Artists are weird people with crazy lives, not ordinary folks like Tim. I’ve never known any artists, actually, but I’ve seen TV shows about them. I just didn’t think Tim had any business trying to do something like that. But, I’d made up my mind to let that be his decision; that is, until old Sarah let the cat out of the bag and I got her number good and proper.

  I may have been content to let Tim have some time on his own to mull over the idea of the scholarship, but evidently Sarah Williams was not. If I wanted proof that she was only doing this to try and get her paws on him, I soon had it. Even though she had said she’d leave him alone while he thought about it, she just happened to run into him only a couple of days later. Supposively she went out to the lumberyard to get Jack to cut her some two-by-fours for something she was fixing up in Miss Maudie’s house. A cousin of theirs from way out in the sticks had bought the house and was moving in once Sarah got it all fixed up, or so everybody said. Some senile old lady who couldn’t do the fixing herself, or some such story. Sounded pretty fishy to me. Made me wonder if Sarah didn’t want an excuse to hang around Taylor longer. But anyway, when Tim told me about Sarah’s visit to the lumberyard, I was furious. Oh, I never let on to him, but I was mad as hell. The very idea of her going out there looking for Tim!

  “Sarah asked me if I’d thought about the scholarship,” Tim said to me.

  We’d just gotten home from church that Sunday and were changing out of our Sunday clothes. I pretended to be only casually interested, but actually I was steaming.

  “So, what did you say?” I asked him as I wadded my slip up and tossed it in a drawer. I should have cut her throat instead of her hair, I was thinking.

  Tim didn’t say anything. He undressed and hung his Sunday suit up. Then he put on some jeans and a tee shirt. It took him forever to dress now, but at least he didn’t need anyone to help him anymore. He hated that.

  “Well. I ain’t never thought about doing anything in art,” was all he said. Just as I thought.

  “She did say,” he added as he tied on his tennis shoes, “that I could teach art to kids, if I got in the right program. I kinda like that idea. But … I just don’t know.”

  Tim finished dressing and started out the bedroom door. He always visited his brothers on Sunday afternoons. Since his daddy died, he was the only father those boys had. He stopped at the door and glanced at me, then looked down kind of sad-like.

  “Guess I just never figured on having another chance at a scholarship,” he said, and then he went on out the door.

  For a moment I felt a lump in my throat and my eyes stung. I then remembered Sarah Williams going out to the lumberyard, trying to talk him into this idea, and anger replaced the sadness. I was sure Taylor had told her all about the accident and the death of all of Tim’s dreams. That made it downright cruel for her to be prissing around here, talking to Tim about another scholarship. It would do nothing but bring up all that mess again, the last thing on earth I wanted. I was going to have a little talk with old Dr. Williams myself, tell her a thing or two.

  As it turns out, I had a legitimate excuse to go to Miss Maudie’s house that afternoon. Otherwise, I’d probably have lost my nerve.

  I’d cornered Ellis after church, trying to find out what she’d heard about Taylor. I was not a bit surprised to hear that he was going to stay a couple of more weeks until his school started back. Supposively he was trying to line someone up to stay with Miss Della or something like that. Ellis was sure he was just trying to keep Miss Della out of the nursing home to prevent her and Sonny from getting her house. Evidently the house is willed to Mr. Harris, but it’s Miss Della’s as long as she lives or something. I have to admit I wasn’t paying that much attention to Ellis. Seems like she’s gotten a little greedy. First, all she wanted was Sonny and the Clark name, and now she’s got her heart set on that house.

  Anyhow, when Ellis was telling me about Taylor, she told me about how much time he was spending with Sarah Williams, supposively helping her fix up Miss Maudie’s place. She also told me that he and Sarah had been having an estate sale from there, getting rid of some of Miss Maudie’s junk. I decided that would be the perfect excuse for me to go and see Sarah. If I got to the house and Taylor was there, I’d leave. But if I caught Sarah Williams alone, I planned to tell her to stick with Taylor Dupree and leave me and Tim alone.

  It turned out I was in luck when I got to Miss Maudie’s house—I caught Sarah alone. I thought no one was home at first, she took so long coming to the door. And then she was half-dressed, wearing only a pair of shorts and a halter top. I swear if I was as flat-chested as that woman, I wouldn’t go around advertising it. I’d get me a good Maidenform instead.

  Sarah was all tousle-headed and sleepy-eyed when she opened the door for me, so I knew she’d been napping, though she denied it. Unless, of course … I tried not to let her see me glancing around, but I wondered if she had some man hidden back in the bedrooms. Probably only Taylor. Or maybe even Dink, since he was so interested. At least I knew where Tim was.

  “Oh—it’s you, Donnette,” she said sleepily. “Come on in.”

  At first I played it real cool. “Sarah, I heard you’re selling some of Miss Maudie’s things. So I thought I’d look around, if that’s all right with you.”

  I followed her into the parlor, and then she turned to me.

  “I wish you’d said something earlier, Donnette. I think it’s about all gone.” She rubbed her eyes, and her voice was husky. I wanted to ask her if she’d had a rough night.

  “Anything in particular you’re looking for? I had lots of furniture earlier this week,” she said.

  I hadn’t planned on her asking me that, so I had to think fast. “Uh—mirrors. Mirrors I can use in the shop.”

  She looked around the dim parlor. The drapes were pulled and it smelled funny. I swear, though, it looked just like Miss Maudie. Everything appeared to be a hundred years old. There wasn’t any vases or whatnots left, just furniture, but there was one huge old mirror over the mantel. Sarah pointed to it.

  “I don’t know if you’d be interested in this one or not. I believe it’s the only mirror left.” It was a big old ugly thing with a dark wood frame. But I pretended to inspect it. Sarah and I looked wavy and speckled in its reflection.

  “Um. Pretty nice mirror,” I said as I scraped at a bad place on it with my fingernail. “I like it.”

  Sarah frowned. “Well—if you’re sure. It’s pretty ghastly to me. It’s so heavy you’d have to send Tim over to see if he can lift it before you got it.”

  “I don’t believe I like it after all.” Just her mentioning Tim made me mad again. I folded my arms and looked at her, and she looked curiously back at me.

  “You didn’t really come to see mirrors, did you, Donnette?” she asked me with a little smile.

  “No. I reckon you know why I came.” I didn’t feel quite so mad now that I was face to face with her, but I still was determined to tell her to bug off.

  Sarah chewed on her lower lip while she studied me. “Tell you what. I planned to walk over to the cemetery this afternoon, check on Aunt Maudie’s grave. Why don’t you and I walk over there together so we can talk?”

  So
Sarah and I ended up walking all the way out Cemetery Street to the graveyard. I guessed right when I first saw her that she was a jogger; she changed to nylon running shorts and Reeboks.

  We had a good brisk walk out there since it wasn’t so hot that afternoon. Matter of fact, it was clouding up like it might rain. We didn’t see a single soul as we walked. Everybody in Clarksville reads the Sunday paper and then naps on Sunday afternoons, resting up between morning and evening church services.

  Sarah and me both were somewhat winded when we got over to the little corner section of the cemetery where Miss Maudie was buried, and both of us stood taking deep breaths and looking around. Miss Maudie’s grave was nothing now but a big mound of red clay. The casket wreath of red roses lay on top of it. Sarah bent over and began pulling dead flowers off the wreaths and straightening up the stands that’d fallen over.

  “I’d planned to check on her before now,” she told me as she yanked the wilted flowers ruthlessly from the pretty arrangements. “When my ex-husband’s father died, kids came out and vandalized the gravesite. I couldn’t stand it if anybody did that to Aunt Maudie’s.”

  There was the sound of thunder in the distance, and the smell of rain in the rose-scented air. I stood silent for a minute, then it seemed only natural that I help Sarah pick off some of the dead flowers.

  “I was surprised to find out how long it takes for a tombstone to be ready,” she remarked as she straightened herself up and stretched like a cat. I pressed the wire frames of the wreaths firmly into the ground so they wouldn’t fall over again. I was surprised to turn and see Sarah standing there just looking at me.

  “Come on,” she said to me. “Let’s go find the Clark plot.”

  She led the way and we found the old graves of the Clarks, but not before stopping and looking at some of the others on the way. It’s a big cemetery. Seems like there’s a lot more people out there than there are in Clarksville.

  I really wasn’t that interested in the Clark family graves, and neither was Sarah, as it turned out. Instead, she’d remembered there was a big old magnolia tree on their plot, with a granite bench in the shade under it, and that’s why she suggested we go there. We sat side by side on that bench, right across from the grave of Hiram Aldophous and Frances Della Clark, the parents of Miss Della Clark Dean, Taylor’s aunt.

  “You don’t seem particularly bothered by graveyards, Donnette, like a lot of people your age are,” Sarah said, looking at the rows of graves spread out as far as we could see from the bench.

  I shrugged. “Well, I don’t like them all that much, but they don’t really bother me. I mean, people get born and then they die.”

  She smiled at me. “If only it were that simple. It’s the stuff in between that causes us so many problems, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. But people make their own misery, lots of times.” I looked at the graves and realized how very peaceful it was here. I’d never known such a peaceful place.

  “Well. Sometimes. But sometimes we have it thrust upon us, as you well know.”

  We were silent a minute, and then she turned to face me.

  “But that’s not really what we came to talk about, is it? Why don’t you tell me what I’m doing that’s bothering you?” she asked.

  “I—I appreciate your offer of the scholarship, Sarah, I really do. But I think it’d be better if you didn’t talk to Tim anymore about it,” I blurted out.

  Sarah sat quietly for a minute, looking at me puzzled. I felt uneasy and turned slightly from her, looking at the graves down the hill from us.

  “Donnette, I can’t understand for the life of me how you can feel that way. Perhaps you can tell me where you’re coming from.”

  I knew she had the right to ask that, but still I resented it. I didn’t have to explain anything to her, if I didn’t want to. Besides, I wasn’t sure I could make her see it from my point of view.

  “Well. Let’s just say that I think you may have an ulterior motive for telling Tim about that scholarship,” I finally said.

  Again, she looked puzzled. “What kind of motive?”

  But I wouldn’t answer her. If she was so smart, she could figure it out herself. Damn if she didn’t reach over and put her hand on my arm again. I’ve never seen anyone who liked to touch people like she does. It took all I could do to not jerk my arm away.

  “Donnette, can’t you see how gifted Tim is?”

  “I know he can draw good—he always could. But he’s no artist. Folks around here think drawing and stuff like that’s sissy.”

  Again, she studied me before replying. “I assume that’s why Tim never developed his talent, that kind of small-town thinking,” she said, rather sharply. “But Donnette, please believe me. I am completely serious about this scholarship for Tim. I’m committed to seeing that he takes it—I certainly hope that you will be, too.”

  I thought for a minute. In spite of my misgivings, she sounded so sincere I could see that she had a point. “I—I reckon Miss Maudie would have loved to see Tim do this. Sounds like something she’d been tickled about,” I admitted.

  Sarah nodded and smiled. “Oh, yes. She would have been very pleased to help him develop his talent.”

  “She always loved Tim. But Tim an artist—I just don’t know about that!”

  “Donnette, there are any number of things Tim could do with an art degree. Matter of fact, he would probably have to. Most artists can’t support themselves strictly with their art. Tim could teach. Don’t you think he’d like that?”

  I thought of Tim with Tommy, and him working with the other boys on the football team. He’d originally wanted to be a coach, so he’d like teaching. He was sure good working with kids.

  “And he could drive over to the university, Donnette. You wouldn’t have to uproot, since you’re just getting your business established,” Sarah continued, so earnestly.

  That was true, all right. I wanted to believe that Sarah might be right and that I should give this idea more thought.

  “Well?” Sarah said, with a smile. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know, Sarah. It—well, it sounds like it might be something good for Tim, maybe.”

  “Oh, Donnette. If only I could make you see what this would do for Tim. I feel sure that this could be just the thing to help him get over these last two years. I can only imagine how awful it must have been for him, to lose everything like he did in that accident! And how awful it was for you, too.” She sounded so sweet and convincing, so concerned.

  But wait a minute—something she said made me stop and think: How did she know so much about Tim, and how these last two years had been for him?

  I turned and looked at her suspiciously. “How come you know so much about Tim?”

  She seemed a little taken back by my question, then it hit me. What a fool I was—what a damn fool! Taylor Dupree put her up to this. Oh, my God, why hadn’t I realized that before!

  “It’s Taylor, ain’t it, Sarah?”

  “What about Taylor?” She tried to look puzzled.

  “Listen, what you and Taylor Dupree do when you get together is none of my business; I don’t even want to think about it, much less hear it. But if he is the one—”

  “Wait a minute!” Sarah stared at me, grabbing my arm. “What do you mean—what Taylor and I do when we get together?”

  “It ain’t none of my business.”

  “Donnette!” Suddenly Sarah put her head down in her hands. “Oh, shit. It’s true. Taylor has told me that people here would misinterpret things—guess I’ve been away from Zion County longer than I realized.” She raised her head and looked at me. “What have you heard?”

  I felt my face getting hot. “Well—you know—”

  Sarah stared at me, astonished. If I didn’t know Taylor as well as I did, I could almost believe she was genuinely shocked.

  “Donnette, listen to me. I can’t help what you choose to believe about this. Taylor is a deeply troubled young man as well as the son of
my friend, Charlotte. I’ve been trying to help him. Can you understand that?”

  “Listen yourself. I don’t want to understand it. I don’t want to even hear his name. All I want to know is whether or not Taylor had anything to do with that scholarship offer of yours.”

  But I knew it. Deep down in me, I knew it. It was Taylor who gave her the idea of making the offer to Tim!

  Sarah shook her head. “He has nothing at all to do with the fact that Tim Sullivan is a gifted young man who should be given a chance to do something with his life besides waste away in this hick town!”

  We stared at each other. “That’s not what I asked you, Sarah,” I said. “Just tell me that Taylor didn’t put you up to this.”

  “Donnette, don’t you love Tim? Don’t you want what is best for him here?”

  “All I want to know is if Taylor had anything to do with it.”

  “What possible difference could that make?”

  I’d heard enough. I jumped up and started walking like a madman, getting away from her. I’d gotten almost to the gate when she caught up with me and grabbed my arm.

  “Donnette, wait. Don’t run away—we need to talk all this out.”

  “Let go of me! Leave us alone—go back to Florida where you came from, Sarah Williams.”

  “Come on, Donnette. I’m a therapist; I can help you. You have got to talk all of this out—you can’t stay in denial the rest of your life.” She wouldn’t let go of my arm.

  “You’re Taylor’s friend, that’s all I need to know,” I said. “Well, I’m glad that you can help him, because he sure needs it. He’s a crazy son-of-a-bitch who almost ruined Tim’s life, that’s what he is. And because he’s a Clark, he thought he could just walk away and everything would be all right.” I was so mad, I was about to cry. “Well, take a good look at Taylor, Sarah. And then take a look at Tim. Tim’s crippled, and he will be all of his life. What about Taylor—how does he look to you now?”

  “Taylor’s crippled, too, Donnette. Emotionally he will always be, because of what happened that night. He didn’t run off because he didn’t care—he ran off because he couldn’t deal with the pain and guilt he experienced. My God—he felt like he’d ruined his best friend’s whole life; of course he went crazy. Can’t you understand that?”