Two for Joy

by Gigi Amateau

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  There I was, a starting forward in the biggest, most important soccer game of my Olympic career. With only a minute left, the game was tied. When my teammate made an awesome pass to me, the crowd began chanting my name: “Jenna! Jenna! Jenna!” I knew what I had to do. I looked up at the crowd and waved. I turned left, but there was nowhere to go. The other team had closed in all around me. They towered over me, but I was not afraid, not one bit. I pivoted right and barely squeaked through an opening that was just my size. I heard Mom in the stands screaming her lungs out: “Good job, Jenna! Good job!” All the way down the field, I zigged and zagged and ducked and turned until there was nothing and no one left between me and the biggest, grizzliest goalie I had ever seen. I looked her right in the eyes and growled, “Look out — this one might hurt.” I took a deep breath and kicked with all my might. The ball spun in midair. Then I heard a telephone ring and ring. The ringing grew louder and louder. Coach yelled, “Turn that phone off! Let’s get back to the game!” But the phone kept right on butting into the game.

  I opened my eyes and looked around. There were no stadium lights, no roaring Olympic crowd, and no silky red-white-and-blue uniforms. I was wearing my green pj’s with purple monkeys, but not my shin guards. My feet were bare. There were my cleats, right on the closet floor. Outside the window, the sky was still black and the stars were still bright. But the phone was ringing.

  Who would call in the middle of the night?

  A light crept under my door. Without making a peep, I tiptoed over the squeaky board in the hall and into Mom’s room.

  Mom was quiet on the phone and listening closely. I sat on the bed beside her and slipped my hand in hers. She squeezed my fingers and rubbed my hair, but didn’t say a word. The house was so hushed, I could hear the refrigerator humming in the kitchen. I could hear a car passing down our street.

  But I barely heard Mom say, “Thank you for calling.” Then she hung up and turned to look at me.

  “What’s happened, Mama? What’s wrong?”

  Mom looked right into my face. “Here’s the truth, my big girl. That was the hospital in Pleasant Grove. Earlier tonight, Tannie fell. This time I’m really worried.”

  Tannie’s our name for my great-aunt Britannia; she’s just like me. There is nothing on earth that Tannie can’t do. She drives a pickup truck as big as a barn. She goes to the races all by herself. One time she sang karaoke with Mom and me. She knows how to fly an airplane, and she has her very own motorcycle. She even played soccer a long time ago, way before it was cool.

  Have you ever seen an old lady, like Tannie, head a soccer ball?

  “What happened this time?” I asked Mom. “Did Tannie throw the lawn mower in the truck again?” The last time she did that, she had taken a nasty spill.

  Mom shook her head.

  “Did she slip off a tall ladder while painting her house? Or fall from the tractor after cutting hay?”

  Mom giggled a little, the way she does when she’s nervous. She shook her head and sighed.

  “No, no. This time it was none of those things,” Mom tried to explain. “Tannie, as usual, was moving too fast. She missed a step off the back porch and has broken her ankle.”

  “Oh, that’s it? She just fell off the porch?” was all I could think to say. Then finally I asked, “Will Tannie be okay?”

  Mom looked worried, and she looked extra tired.

  She answered, “Tannie is strong, but her bones have grown more fragile over the years. Her ankle will heal in time. She doesn’t need surgery — that’s the good news.”

  “Then, why are you so worried? My teacher broke her ankle and came right back to school, on crutches.”

  “It’s not really Tannie’s ankle that worries me; the fracture was stable.”

  My mom’s a nurse, and sometimes she talks to me like I work at the hospital, too. I nodded and rubbed my chin as if I were the doctor. “Hmm, the fracture was stable,” I repeated.

  “Right. But this is the fourth time in half as many years that Tannie’s fallen and hurt herself. I’m afraid it’s only going to get worse,” Mom said. “Next time it could be her hip or her back.”

  Then Mom added, “Tannie’s doctor thinks the farm is too much for her now. It would be safer for her to live someplace smaller; she needs to be near people, not way out in the country, where no one is around to help. She’s not going to like it, but Tannie needs to move.”

  I thought of Tannie’s yard, full of pink tea roses and big, showy flowers like gladiolus and hollyhock. I pictured her vegetable garden, which spreads across an entire acre of land, so big it could be a soccer field. I remembered the bobwhite quail that I always flush out of the woods at Tannie’s place. Tannie loves all kinds of birds, just like I do.

  I’ve seen lots of birds in my life, but Tannie’s seen lots more. Tannie keeps a list of all the different birds she’s ever seen. She has hiked through mountains in Cuba to try to find a special woodpecker. She even flew to Peru to see the birds of Machu Picchu.

  Almost 10,000 different bird species live on the earth! And my aunt Tannie has seen 3,026 of them. Now that I’m eight, I might just start a life list like Tannie’s.

  Then I remembered the chickens and the mean old rooster that run all around Tannie’s farm.

  “Where will the chickens go?” I asked. “What will she do?”

  “Where else is there for Tannie to live?” I asked Mom.

  “Don’t worry about that now.” Mom walked me back to my room. “Hop back in your bed, little one; find a good dream until morning.” She pulled my Sunbonnet Sue quilt all the way up to my neck.

  “Who made this quilt? Jenna Phoebe, do you remember?” Mom asked. She always uses both my names when she kisses me and tucks me in.

  I snuggled in deeper. Yes, I remembered. “Tannie made it when she was my age. That was a long time ago, when she was a farm girl, with much stronger bones.”

  “This quilt has been keeping little girls warm for a lot of years,” Mom reminded me. “First Tannie, then me, and now you.” Mom kissed my nose good night.

  “Try to get some sleep; it will be morning soon.” The clock by my bed had flipped over to four o’clock; I flipped over to the left.

  A mockingbird started singing like crazy right outside my window. I couldn’t help but think of Tannie and her farm in Mississippi; there are lots of mockingbirds at Tannie’s.

  I fluffed up my pillow. I flopped to the right. I wished I could see Tannie soon.

  I turned onto my back and then onto my tummy. No matter whether I curled up tight or straightened myself out, I could not get to sleep. That crazy bird would not stop singing.

  I could only think of Tannie, my very most favorite aunt.

  We’re all the family Tannie has left in the world since her husband, Louis, died. I’ve heard stories about him; he’s famous in my family. Everyone called him “Saint Louis” because he was such a good man and the only one with patience enough to handle Tannie’s strong will. I never did get to meet Saint Louis; he died before I was born.

  Now, other than the chickens, Tannie lives alone with her cat, Butt.

  When we visit, Tannie’s rooster acts like he is the boss of me. I have to be careful around him. Once, I tried to pet him, and he bit my finger. It didn’t bleed, but it made me cry. The chickens are way nicer than that mean old rooster.

  Tannie can make a chicken sound even better than a chicken: “Bock-bock-bock-be-Gock! Bock-bock-bock-be-Gock!”

  Tanni
e loves those chickens like they are her babies. Maybe that’s because she never had any babies of her own. I yawned. Actually, Butt is the biggest baby of all.

  I yawned again and thought of how sweet Butt is to the chickens. Butt is so sweet, he even shows the rooster his tummy, and he never, ever lifts a paw to hurt the hens. Tannie says Butt is a pacifist — that means he loves peace.

  Butt is the cutest cat I’ve ever seen. He’s orange and white, with the sweetest pink nose and dainty little feet for a tomcat. He prances around Tannie’s house, swishing his tail, always with his bottom high in the air — that’s how he got his name.

  He’s also the smartest cat I’ve ever met. When Butt is thirsty for cool water, he takes Tannie’s finger in his mouth and pulls her to the sink. If Butt is hungry for a snack, he paws at the pantry. When it’s too hot outside for yard work, Butt makes Tannie go inside. Ever since Saint Louis died, Butt has been Tannie’s best friend.

  I kicked the quilt away and dangled one foot off the bed. I wished I could blink twice and be at Tannie’s farm.

  I tried counting sheep, but the sheep turned into clucking chickens . . . and then a crowing rooster.

  I closed my eyes to find my Olympic dream again. Instead, I dreamed of Tannie’s fruit orchard, with strawberries in the spring, blueberries in the summer, and apples in the fall. I dreamed of how Tannie’s chickens always let me reach under their soft, warm feathers to take enough fresh eggs for breakfast.

  Where else could there be, besides the farm, for Tannie and Butt?

  Those dreamy chickens would have let me keep right on sleeping, but the high-whistling weeeeeeeet of Mom’s teakettle started calling for morning the way a rooster does while it’s dark. I flipped over to my right and eyeballed the clock by my bed. Six o’clock! Roosters and teapots should learn to sleep late.

  I pulled the covers back over my head, but the smell of biscuits in the oven came slinking up the stairs. SST! SST! SST! the sound of bacon went popping through the hall. Floppy bacon is my favorite.

  And that mockingbird was still carrying on in the holly tree. If Tannie were here, she would say, “That bird has worked herself into a tizzy!”

  Then, quick as anything, I remembered about Tannie’s fragile bones. I hoped Tannie wasn’t in too much pain. Mom says whenever I’m worried, I should sing to my guardian angel. (Just what you’d expect from somebody named Grace.) While I dressed for school, I made up an angel song for Tannie:

  Go fast to Tannie; don’t stop on the way,

  Tell her I’m with her, all night and all day.

  Help her get stronger, Give her hugs and good care.

  My guardian angel, I want you to share

  A hug and kiss right on her face.

  Tell her it’s from us: Jenna and Grace.

  When I finished my song, I blinked twice and sent my angel fast from our little yellow house in Virginia all the way to Tannie’s big white farmhouse in Mississippi.

  Today Mom didn’t rush me or hurry me up. She didn’t count down from ten or say, “Jenna, hop-to! The school bus will be here in seven minutes!”

  Mom sat down and drank her coffee, while I ate all of the floppy bacon she made and three entire jelly biscuits. I wished we had a big breakfast like this every day. On most school days, I have plain oatmeal.

  I sang my angel song for Mom. But I did not sing with my mouth full. Mom started to cry. She wiped her eyes and said, “Teach your angel song to me, then we’ll sing it together!”

  Mom and I sang my song over and over, until we heard the school bus come rumbling down our street.

  Mom looked at her watch. “Jenna, we’re late.”

  VROOM-VROOM-VROOM! The living-room windows started to shake, the way they do when the bus rolls on past my stop.

  “Gracious, we’ve missed the bus again.”

  I wrapped an extra biscuit in a napkin for later in the day.

  On the way to school, Mom surprised me. “I’ve been thinking about something, and I’d like you to think about it, too. Jenna, we’re all the family Tannie has left in the world. I’d like to ask Tannie to come live with us.”

  With us? I said to myself. Awesome! I thought. Tannie and Butt will be with us all the time!

  “With us?” I said out loud. “Sweet! Tannie’s coming to live with us!”

  Mom kept right on talking. “I’ll call a realtor and Tannie’s doctor later this morning. We can take care of most everything next week on spring break. We’ll go to Tannie’s, instead of the beach, and bring Tannie back with us.” Mom giggled again. “Is that okay?”

  I love the beach, but I love Tannie more. “I don’t mind, Mom. I’m worried about Tannie, too,” I said.

  We pulled up to school. Mom kissed me good-bye and told me, “We’ll talk more at dinner. I love you, Jenna.”

  I told Mom bye-bye and raced off to class.

  All day at school, I thought about Tannie coming to live with us. I remembered the taste of Tannie’s buttery, sweet pound cake and hoped she would make it every day at our house. Then my teacher tapped my shoulder. “Jenna, are you with us? Pay attention, please.”

  I thought about my math facts, but only for a second.

  Would Tannie like to have a tiny garden in our tiny yard? We could plant tomatoes and okra, squash and peppers.

  My teacher called my name again. “Jenna! Where are you today?” I sat up straight and tall. I know my math facts better than anything.

  I hoped Tannie would bring Butt, because I’ve always wanted a cat.

  At recess, I didn’t play soccer like usual. I stayed on the swings by myself and sang my angel song over and over. I wondered if my angel had made it to Tannie’s place yet. I swung so high that everyone on the ground looked smaller, but not as small as they would look from a plane. I pumped my legs to go even higher. I imagined what it would be like to swing all the way over the top. I bet Tannie did that once or twice.

  The higher and higher I swung, the louder and louder I sang, until my teacher shouted, “Jenna, don’t swing so high! Come down!” I was so high up, I could barely hear her.

  I did what she asked, but I didn’t stop thinking about Tannie and Butt coming to live with us.

  Mom and I got busy planning. We only had one week to get ready.

  Mom talked to Tannie’s doctor every single day, to be sure she had everything she needed to get better fast. We also called Tannie on the phone every morning and every night, just to check in and make sure she was fine.

  Mom put the phone on speaker so we could all three talk together at once. I always got to talk first.

  When I sang my angel song to Tannie, she said my angel had actually already been there, but Tannie still liked my hugs and kisses best of all.

  Then Mom tried to talk Tannie into moving with us.

  But Tannie wouldn’t agree. “We’ll see what the doctor says next week when you come visit me. Grace, stop making such a fuss.”

  “I’m a nurse, Tannie,” Mom said. “This is what I do. I take care of people.”

  Tannie told Mom she was making something out of nothing.

  “When school is out next week, Aunt Britannia, we’re coming to get you. We’re going to bring you back with us. It’s time for us all to be together.” Mom added, “I won’t take no for an answer.” She hung up the phone and said to me, in a huff, “We’re going to get ready for her, even if she isn’t ready for us.”

  Mom looked around the kitchen. “I need to make a ‘Tannie List’ of things to do to get ready.” She pulled a sheet of paper from the junk drawer.

  I love making lists.

  “I need to make a ‘Tannie List,’ too!” I said. “May I have a sheet of paper?” Mom handed me her paper and dug out an index card for herself.

  Mom’s Tannie List:

  My Tannie List:

  Mom worked hard and stayed up late most nights trying to get everything on her list done. I went to school every day and mostly stayed up late helping Mom at night.

  One more
time, before we left for Mississippi, Mom asked Tannie to come live with us.

  “Grace,” Tannie told her, “let’s see how I feel when you girls get here.”

  “That sounds like yes to me. We’ll see you in a few days,” Mom said.

  We were ready to go get Tannie. Would Tannie be ready for us?

  On the day of our trip, we were supposed to leave before the sun came up, but Mom let us sleep in late again. She made floppy bacon and biscuits, too. We packed up the car fast. Before we hit the road, we went over the trip one more time.

  “Jenna, it’s a long drive to Tannie’s. Do we have everything we’ll need?” Mom asked me.

  “I have thirty-three books and my old bunny, Hop,” I said.

  “I packed a cooler with ice and drinks,” said Mom. “I’ve brought three bags of food, in case we get hungry.”

  “How about a map?” I asked Mom.

  “No need for a map, sweet girl. I could make this trip driving backward. We’ll go over the Blue Ridge Mountains and into Tennessee. Then we’ll gain an hour by turning our clock back. We’ll drive through the Great Smoky Mountains next. Once we’re out of the mountains, we’ll be almost there. Finally, after one time change, two mountain ranges, and three states, we’ll see Tannie. If we don’t dillydally this time, if we only stop when we need to, we’ll be there before midnight, Tannie’s time.”

  As we pulled out of the driveway, I waved good-bye to our house and to that noisy mockingbird, who was singing again in the holly outside my bedroom window.

  “Good-bye, mockingbird! Wait until you get to meet Aunt Tannie next week! We’re bringing her all the way back from Mississippi,” I hollered out the car window.

  Mississippi is so easy to spell. I learned to spell it when I was little, like this:

  M–I

  Crooked Letter–Crooked Letter–I

  Crooked Letter–Crooked Letter–I

  Humpback–Humpback–I

  I spelled Mississippi over and over, until Mom asked me to stop. The whole entire day, we drove through Virginia. I read all of my books over and over again. I ate two ham sandwiches and three handfuls of chips. I looked out the window at the mountains.