Em disappeared back into their room, and her mother sat at the table unloading the bags, studying each item. “Look at this. Five cents each.” She pointed to a spot on the can. “Just one small dent.” Several more cans followed. “They had lots of good stuff on the markdown shelf today.”
“Great.” Mina carried the cans to the cupboard. “Ma, I know money’s tight, but Emma really needs some new clothes.” She figured she’d get this out of the way before she told Ma the good news.
“What’s wrong with the clothes she’s got now? You been puttin’ ideas in her head?”
Mina should have known Ma’d be defensive. “No. That’s not it. She’s growing, really growing, and fast. Those dresses you made in the fall look good.” Mina paused, hoping the compliment would soothe her mother, “but Emma’s grown so tall, if she puts her arms up, it’s almost indecent.” Not to mention they made her look like she was five.
“Well, I don’t know where we’re going to get money for that.” Her mother sat there for a moment. “Any of your old clothes fit her?” A year ago her mother would’ve never mentioned something like this.
Mina shook her head. “I thought of that, but she’s so skinny, she was swimming in everything I gave her to try on.”
“You always were fatter.”
Boy, you’re such a charmer, Ma. Out loud she said, “You think I’m fat?” Mina couldn’t resist.
“I guess not anymore.” Her mother shrugged. “But you can only look as fat as you are.”
“Thanks, Ma.” Mina worked hard to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. She should have known better than to ask. “Anyway, I have extra money left from college apps I won’t be needing, so I thought maybe I could take Emma to a second-hand store and find her some clothes. I’ll ask Winona. There’s one she goes to with her Mom once in a while.” Mina hesitated; she didn’t want to step on her mother’s toes, “Unless you wanted to sew something?”
“I don’t have time. I have my African Violets to tend, and I’m going to make pickles.” Her mother fit a crooked pair of reading glasses over her nose. “Hand me that cookbook. I think I remember a recipe for sour pickles I’d like to try.”
Pickles? She’d already done a bunch of canning in September. Where was she going to get that many cucumbers at this time of year? “Ah, Ma, cucumbers are going to be expensive in December.”
“December? Oh yeah, right.” Her mother continued to peruse the cookbook. “What were you saying?”
“Emma needs new clothes.”
Ma nodded. “Fine. But we don’t have any extra money, so you’ll have to figure it out.”
Didn’t we already establish that? Mina knew the fact better than her mother. Since Sam left, she spent a lot of time babysitting, but even with the extra work, she used just about every cent to help with the bills.
“No problem.” Mina was glad that was behind her. “I’ve got good news too.” Sliding into a chair, Mina waited for her mother to look up.
She didn’t. “What’s that?”
“I got accepted at Castleton.”
“What’s that?” Her mother continued to look at the cookbook.
Mina stared at her mother dumbfounded. “College, Ma. I got accepted to a college, to be a teacher,” she said, somewhat deflated.
“College cost money?”
Of course that would be the first thing Ma would think of. “Well, yes. About ten thousand a year.” She had her mother’s attention now, if the shocked expression was any indication. “I’m pretty sure I can get financial aid, maybe some scholarships, maybe a few loans. All you and Dad have to do is sign this application. I’ve filled it out already.”
Ma stared at the paperwork as if it was written in a foreign language and for her it was. “Loans? We don’t do loans.” She shoved the papers back across the table. “We can’t afford loans.”
“Ma, I don’t know if there’ll be loans. This is an application requesting financial aid, that’s all. You have to sign. I’m not old enough to apply on my own. I can’t do this unless you sign.”
“We’re not signing.” Ma shook her head. “Your father knows how much you girls like Christmas…for the life of me, I don’t know why; all anyone does is spend money. Anyway, he wanted to wait until after the holiday to tell you, but he had an appointment at the V.A. last week. His arthritis is bad, real bad. The doctors have been giving him those new shots, but they only help so much. Even with ‘em, he’ll probably be in a wheelchair within the next year or so…maybe two, if he’s lucky. His boss has been good to him, lettin’ him do things around the state shed, but we don’t know how much longer that’ll last. We can’t afford this.”
“But Ma, I don’t think it’ll cost you any—”
“We can’t afford it.” Using the table to lever her bulk out of the chair, she stood over Mina. “You’re goin’ to have to get a job after you graduate and save your money. We’ll let you stay here as long as you contribute your share.”
Isn’t that what I’ve been doing? Speechless, Mina sat there as her mother continued.
“You can do what you want with the rest of your money. I bet if you save, in a couple of years, you’ll have enough.”
Of all the times for her to make an attempt at encouragement.
“Provided, of course, you don’t buy a bunch of fancy clothes and stuff,” her mother advised, before leaving the room.
Mina sat in the chair, unable to move. I’m not going to college? She hadn’t even applied to any of the big schools, thinking she’d stay close to home to keep an eye on things. This isn’t fair. I’ve worked hard. Glancing at the application, anger surged up, like a geyser ready to blow. Pulling the paper closer, she snapped up a pen off the table and pressed the tip to the signature line. Holding it there, she hesitated. You can’t forge their names, not on something like this. Dropping the pen, Mina shoved the forms and sent them flying. Crossing her arms on the table, she laid her head down.
This can’t be happening. But Mina knew it was. She wasn’t going to college, at least not anytime soon. You knew that anyway. Who would take care of them? Mina did know, deep inside. For years, the thought sat safely in a vacuum, like one of the vegetables Ma canned from the garden. The seal was broken now, with the harsh realities of the situation open to the air.
Mina wanted to wail at the top of her lungs, to scream and kick things. For once in her life, she might’ve actually done it, but she didn’t want to scare Emma. So instead, she sat staring at the dirt-filled gaps between the old boards of the kitchen floor, listening to the snap of wood as it burned in the stove, in an attempt to hold herself together. It was only when the phone rang, she was forced to finally get up, answering it on the fourth ring. “Hello?”
“Mina?”
“Yes.”
“It’s me, Nona.”
Mina didn’t say anything.
“Are you sick or something?”
Mina could hear the concern in the girl’s voice. “No.”
“Okay,” Winona said with a nervous laugh. “I wanted to tell you there’s a letter here for you and a small package. A big box came, too. I think it’s Christmas presents. Sam said he was going to ship them home ahead of time.”
Mina’s legs were shaking. She wasn’t sure she was going to be able to resist the urge to kick the door frame much longer. “Okay. Thanks. I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.” She replaced the phone receiver. Turning, she stepped on something—the forms. Gathering the papers up, Mina lifted the fire plate on top of the old wood stove and dropped them in. The papers scorched, curled and burst into flames, all in about sixty seconds. About the same amount of time it had taken for her dreams to disintegrate.
Pulling on a ragged sweatshirt, she stuffed her feet into old boots, not bothering with the ties, and went out to the wood shed. Mina stacked all the wood she split earlier, slamming each piece in place and then started the gas powered splitter again. Lifting a heavy chunk onto the platform, Mina pulled the lever forward, watching the
piston force the wood onto the stationary ax head until it cracked into two pieces under the pressure. She repeated the same procedure with the two halves before tossing them away and picking up another chunk.
She went on like this, alternating between splitting and stacking. Disbelief faded with the weak winter light, but not anger. She wasn’t going to college. And not only was she not going to college, Sam was gone. It would be her hanging around now. How can this be happening?
She’d cried every night for the first two months after Sam left. He called the first chance he got, telling Mina he missed her, and what hard asses the drill instructors were, and how he was bald. He’d also written letters and mailed them to his parents’ house, and she’d written back. Long letters, telling him about school…how Blair Whitman was back from the private girls’ school, translation: rehab. How the soccer team wasn’t doing so well, how tall Emma was getting. Whatever she could think of, to forestall breaking off the connection with him until his next letter arrived, letters filled with details of his life in the Army.
Sam wrote about things like BCT, AIT, lots of initials…he also seemed excited about a group called the Rangers there at Fort Benning, like Special Forces or something. His DI’s were encouraging him to change his specialty from construction because of his marksmanship scores. He even talked about going to Airborne School. Sam jumping out of planes didn’t thrill Mina. Thank goodness, he’d be home in a couple of weeks—for ten days, not enough time. Mina didn’t know how she was going to be able to go home while he was here. She didn’t want to be away from him for a second. She wished Sam was here right now, so she could talk to him about this whole college thing.
Sometime later, Emma came out to tell her supper was ready. Turning on the light in the drop extension cord, Mina said she was going to keep working, and to go ahead without her. Ma wouldn’t like that. They always sat down to supper.
Too bad. I’m going to keep working until I’m so tired I fall right asleep tonight. Or, she sniffed and rubbed her nose on her sleeve, my feet fall off. Stamping them a couple of times, Mina continued on. Her gloves, soaked through from handling the wood, started to get stiff, freezing in the dropping temperature. She clapped them together a couple of times and kept working. Stinging fingers and toes finally forced her inside. Mina peeled off her outer clothes and held her hands over the wood stove for a few moments to warm them. A plate, haphazardly covered with foil, sat on the back of the wood stove to stay warm. Emma. She ignored it; she wasn’t hungry. Mina made a cup of tea and set it on the scarred table to steep. Everyone was in bed, so she tiptoed down the hall and grabbed a note book to write Sam a letter. Maybe that would make her feel better.
Sipping the tea, she began to warm up. Dear Sam, she started, and then sat there, not sure how she was going to tell him about this. She was still staring at the blank page when the phone rang a few minutes later. Startled, she nonetheless answered it on the first ring.
“Hello?” Who would be calling at this time of the night?
“Hey.”
She couldn’t believe it. “Sam?”
“Hi, Mina. I miss you.”
Oh, his voice sounds so good. “I miss you too. I can’t believe I’m talking to you.”
“Are you okay?”
“What do you mean?” How could he know?
“Earlier, when I called home, Nona told me she talked to you today, and you didn’t sound like yourself. Is something wrong?”
Sam, Sam, I love you so much. After their one night together, Sam worried he might’ve left her with a situation to deal with; and didn’t relax until Mina assured him everything was normal. “Yes. No. I mean, no one’s sick or anything.” She wrapped and unwrapped the phone cord from around her finger. “I got an acceptance letter from Castleton today.”
“Mina, that’s great. That’s where you wanted to go.”
“I’m not going.”
“What?”
“I’m not going. My parents won’t sign the papers to apply for financial aid. Ma thinks if they sign, they’ll have to pay.”
“You’re kidding?”
“I wish.”
“How about going to see the guidance counselor? He’s a nice guy; he could help you.”
“Mr. Abenetti?” The man reminded Mina of a rooster, strutting around. Worse, he had a compulsive habit of sliding thin fingers through even thinner hair. A nice guy? He was, if you were popular, had money, or were an athlete.
Mina’d been to see him, like every other senior. Instead of asking her plans after graduation, he slid a piece of paper into the old typewriter adjacent to his desk, and using index fingers only, punched a few keys. Twisting the platen, he tugged the paper out, scribbled on the bottom and handed it to her. It was a photocopied recommendation with her name typed in, and his signature on the bottom. Mina couldn’t figure it out. The little man informed her it was for one of the posted manufacturing jobs in West Lebanon. Leaning back in the chair, his fingers massaged the sparse comb-over. Mina brought up her SAT scores. He glanced at them, and admitted they were very good...she must be one of those people who tested well. That was it; the interview was over. She had a mental picture of him scribbling Poor White Trash in red ink across the front of the folder and stuffing it at the back of a file drawer somewhere. You can bet he didn’t do that to Blair Whitman or Robbie Fields.
So she’d gone on figuring out the college stuff on her own. Not that it amounted to anything after today. Even if she could’ve gone to him, Mina knew he would talk to her parents. She cringed at the thought, knowing it would only reinforce the guidance counselor’s opinion. “Yeah, he’s a great guy, but he can’t help me.” She sighed. “I was really mad earlier. I’ve split more wood than we can use in three months. I’m calmer now.”
“Honey, if anyone deserves to go, it’s you. Let me think about it a while, and see what I can come up with.”
“Thanks, but don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out. You’ve got enough to worry about.”
“It doesn’t work that way, and you know it. If you’re hurting, I’m hurting. Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
Mina could hear the doubt in his voice. “Yeah, no problem. I can handle anything knowing you’re going to be here soon. I miss you so much.”
There was a moment of silence. “Mina, ah, that’s why I’m calling. I have a chance to go to jump school. Some guy who was supposed to go broke his leg in a car accident, so there’s an opening. The thing is…it starts in two weeks.”
“Two weeks, as in, when you’re supposed to be coming home?”
“Yeah. Look, I don’t have to go. I’ll have the chance in a few months again—”
“No, do it,” she interrupted Sam. “You have to do it. It sounds like a good opportunity.”
“It is. But are you sure? I’m not sure. I’ve been dying to get home and see everyone, especially you. I want to hold you so bad.”
“Me too.” Mina tried to keep the sadness out of her voice. “Do you know when you’ll be able to come home?”
“Honestly, no. I have some leave time, but to fit in all the training I need between duty assignments is complicated. Maybe in March.”
“Okay.” Mina heard her mother’s bedroom door open down the hall. “Ma’s up. I have to go.”
“Mina, you’re going to have to tell them, sooner or later. You’ll probably be surprised; they might understand more than you give them credit for.”
“Maybe,” she said, not believing it.
“Okay. I’ll let you go. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“I’ll call you next week.”
“Okay, bye.” Mina set the receiver in the cradle as her mother closed the bathroom door.
June 1995
As it turned out, he didn’t make it home in March or May, and by the beginning of June, even though he said he’d try to get home for her graduation, Sam called to say he had a special training session for this Ranger thing. Mina began
to have her doubts. Maybe he met someone else and didn’t know how to tell her. Sam continued to call, but Mina suspected he was checking on her more than anything. He’d also written letters every few days, and once or twice a month, a package would show up at the Millers. Mina kept her worries to herself, tempted to ask Winona, but knowing she really didn’t want the answer if it meant Sam wasn’t in her life at all. Mina couldn’t help it. She hadn’t seen Sam in almost a year, and she wasn’t going to see him any time soon.
Despite Mina’s gloominess, graduation day dawned sunny and bright. For two weeks, she’d been trying to find out what her mother planned to wear to the occasion, but Ma kept saying, “I’m not sure yet.” Mina took no chances. On one of her trips with Winona to the second-hand store, she picked out a dress for her mother, and a shirt, tie and pants for her father. Although Mina had to admit, Ma showing up at graduation in her usual ragged house dress and old bedroom slippers, while embarrassing, would be a fitting end to this odd high school career. For once, Mina didn’t care. In fact, she hadn’t cared about much in the last six months or so. Her grades were okay; she’d graduate, but had stopped the Herculean effort for an A+ on every paper. For what? The teller job she started in a few weeks? Mina wasn’t competing for scholarships or grants or even class rank any longer and didn’t want to be the only valedictorian in history with no college listed by her name in the commencement program. It was easy to miss a question here and there on homework assignments, and then make a few wrong choices on tests, and slowly her grade point average started to slip. Nothing drastic—she had too much pride for that—but a few points, enough for Madison O’Neill to move ahead of her. Mina had been surprised when several of her teachers questioned her about her work, asking if everything was okay. What was she supposed to say? My parents need caretakers, and I think my boyfriend might be sleeping with someone else? She just nodded and walked away. Maddie would be making the commencement speech tonight, and Mina didn’t mind one bit. She hated public speaking to the point of nausea.
My Mother Grows Wallflowers Page 17
