Chapter 5
Two years later, I was halfway through high school and Phoebe was thrilled to be nearly a teenager. At first Mom wasn’t as thrilled but soon she succumbed to the fact that her little girl was growing up. Phoebe’s birthday was less than two weeks away, and she never missed a chance to remind everyone.
“So, tell me again, big brother, what’s it going to be like when I turn thirteen?” she asked gleefully.
We were sitting at the table eating our usual bowl of cereal early one Saturday morning. This was the umpteenth time she’d asked me.
“What’s that?” I responded, holding my hand up to my ear. “I can’t hear you.”
Phoebe gave me a glare. “You know what I said.”
“See, that’s one of the problems,” I kidded her. “Your hearing starts to go, food doesn’t taste as good anymore, your teeth start to fall out. Its rough I tell ya. And, look, you start gettin’ gray hair.” I plucked a hair from my head and showed it to her.
“That’s not gray, you goofball,” she protested, pushing my hand away.
“See, you start to go blind, too,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “I’m tellin’ ya, it’s rough. Pretty soon, it’s just you and a rockin’ chair.”
“Oh, cut it out!” Phoebe snapped and left in a huff.
Mom was cleaning some dishes in the kitchen sink when Phoebe came bounding in with her bowl.
“Here, Mom,” Phoebe said, taking little notice of what Mom was doing before darting toward the door.
“Hang on a minute, Phoebe,” Mom called out to her.
Phoebe slunk back over to the sink, standing next to Mom. Mom had that tone in her voice again.
“Now that you’re getting older, it’s time you started helping me in here a little more.”
Phoebe’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“I need you to start helping me in here a little bit more now,” Mom repeated.
“Mom, you go nuts whenever we come in here,” Phoebe reminded her. “I’m surprised I’m still in here right now.”
“Well, you’re getting older now, and you need to start learning how to keep a kitchen. And, it wouldn’t hurt you to start watching me when I cook, too.”
“I don’t believe my ears,” Phoebe responded, shocked. “Me, cook? And take care of the kitchen??”
“It’s time you started learning,” Mom continued. “You’ll also have to learn to wash dishes and scrub the floor. It’s hard work but it’s important. Now, your father may say differently, but we’re the ones who keep order in this castle. And, every queen knows the castle starts with the kitchen.” Mom put her dish towel down for a moment and looked ol’ Phoebe in the eye. Phoebe must have known right then that she was goner. “You do want to learn, don’t you?”
Talk about a loaded question. I’m sure the last thing on Phoebe’s brain was learning how to cook and clean the kitchen. All she wanted to do was paint pictures, play outside, go swimming, and scatter wildflower seeds. Up until then she had succeeded in avoiding anything and everything that had to do with household chores. The closest she came to helping Mom was gathering eggs and even that was mostly because she liked the chickens and geese so much.
Phoebe was silent for about two seconds. It was obvious that there was only one answer she could possibly give. Mom had cornered her good.
“Well, yeah,” she said, sheepishly. “I don’t know how good a cook I’d be though. I tried cooking toast once and it smoked up the entire kitchen.” That part was true, now that I think about it, and hysterical, I might add. “Besides, I still have all my chores that I have to keep up with outside.”
It was a nice try but Mom wasn’t buying it. Phoebe’s outdoor chores took no more than thirty minutes, and that was only when she bothered to do them.
“Oh, I think we can manage that,” Mom smiled. “I want you to start helping with dinner tonight, okay?” Phoebe smirked and darted toward the door.
“Not so fast, young lady,” Mom said, whirling around from the sink. “There’s one other thing I want to talk to you about.”
Phoebe’s shoulders slumped, wondering what our mother could possibly want now. Phoebe watched as her youth escaped the kitchen and left her behind like a deer in headlights. The next subject was likely going to be about growing up. Mom was on a roll. God bless her.
“It’s time you started breaking some of your bad habits, Phoebe,” Mom said firmly. Phoebe crinkled her nose. This didn’t sound good at all. I’m sure she would prefer to just start scrubbing the floor rather than talk about whatever it was Mom was getting at. I gave her credit, though, she faced the music.
“You’re a big girl now,” Mom started. At that, Phoebe probably knew what was coming. “I want you to stop drawing on that wall of yours.” Bingo. Phoebe’s esteem was completely deflated by then. “It’s time to start learning some self-control. We like the way you can draw and paint so well, but you have to start being more responsible. Besides, the hardware store is all out of white paint.”
Phoebe didn’t think Mom’s joke was too funny and moaned in protest. “But what am I supposed to draw on?”
“You just have to start using your drawing pads,” Mom answered. “There’s no debating this, Phoebe. There will be no more drawing or painting on your bedroom wall. Is that clear?”
Phoebe curled her bottom lip and tried to hold back her anguish. I figured that this wasn’t what she had in mind when she imagined her thirteenth birthday. Nodding her head, she slowly plodded out of the kitchen, folding her arms and walking directly toward the stairs. She looked away from me as she passed, but I could tell that her eyes were filling with tears.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked her, still munching on my cereal.
“Nothing,” she said quietly, and ran up the stairs.
Mom stood in the kitchen doorway, listening to Phoebe bound up the stairs, sniffling as she ran.
“Not ready to be the queen of the castle, eh?” I said grinning.
Bad idea. Mom glared a hole right through me. “Shut it, Nicholas. And, shame on you for eavesdropping like that! Now go get cleaned up.”
How did she know? I wondered. I was curious when Phoebe didn’t come back from the kitchen right away. I knew something was up, so I put my ear to the door to listen in. Mom must have had senses like a hawk.
Mom kept glaring at me. “And, don’t you start teasing her. Just leave her alone,” Mom warned. “Now get.”
I ran up the stairs as fast as I could, before she started lecturing me too.
Phoebe was ripe for me to make fun of, but I gave her a break. Standing in the doorway of her room, I saw her sitting on the end of her bed, staring at the wall that was her former canvas. She had a small drawing pad on her lap. I think she accepted the part about helping out in the kitchen, but the part about not drawing on the wall really got to her. She always knew that Mom and Dad didn’t like it, but she just couldn’t help herself.
She had dry tears on her little cheeks. I could have said a million smart-ass things and made it even worse, but I didn’t. Remembering her nagging question about getting to be a teenager, I figured she thought I was there to rub it in. I wasn’t about to but she still beat me to the punch.
“I know what you’re going to say, so just save it,” she sniffed. “Becoming a teenager stinks.”
I sat next to her on the edge of the bed. “That’s part of becoming a teenager for sure. But you still get to do fun stuff. It’s not all devastating.” I wasn’t much comfort though. Sometimes it’s better if you just work things out on your own. I got up and started to leave.
I was almost out the door when I heard her ask softly, “Fun stuff like what?”
I thought for a minute and then yelled jubilantly, “Like swimming!” I grabbed her swimming towel and threw it at her. “Last one to the swimmin’ pond is a rotten egg!”
Phoebe beamed and squealed with delight. I ran to my room and threw on my swim tru
nks and dashed outside, but by then Phoebe was already way ahead of me, sprinting toward the pond.
Sooter and Dad were just inside the barn when we ran past. “Mornin’, Mr. Nick!” Sooter called out to me. “Headin’ down to the swimmin’ pond, are ya?”
“Mornin’, Sooter. Mornin’, Dad!” I yelled back. “She’s gonna beat me if I don’t hurry up!”
Sooter laughed as Dad shook his head and smiled. They watched as I chased after Phoebe. Mosey also ran alongside, barking and wagging his tail. He probably knew where we were going.
Phoebe beat me to the pond with little trouble. As soon as she saw me and Mosey, she yelled out, “You’re a rotten egg!” Then she jumped into the water. Mosey dove in right after her. She shrieked as soon as she came up for air. “Oh, it’s cold!”
I ignored her. I didn’t much like the cold water in the spring, but it didn’t stay cold for long, just when you first got in. The air was plenty hot, so the cool water felt really good. Throwing my towel down, I kicked off my shoes and splashed feet first into the pond. Mosey barked happily as he jumped around in the shallow water.
It was spring again, and we were having a ball just like we always did at the pond. We took turns climbing to the rope and swinging out over the deep end of the pond. I liked doing cannonballs after I let go of the rope, hitting the water and trying to make the biggest splash I could.
We must have stayed at the pond for hours. As the day wore on, the sun grew hotter, and the water warmed up nicely. It was only cold in the deep end so after a while, we stayed in the shallow end, swimming around and soaking up the bright sun. Before long we had worn ol’ Mosey out. He found a place near the edge of the pond and just lay there watching us.
“I can’t wait until summer when we can come out here every day,” I said, floating on my back. “I could fall asleep right here, just starin’ up at the blue sky.”
“Me, too,” Phoebe said.
“So what’s the story with you and clunkhead?” I asked bluntly. “I saw you talking to him again at school the other day.”
Phoebe turned a bit red, not answering me right away. I still wasn’t too thrilled about her liking Billy Colquitt.
“He’s not a clunkhead. He’s actually kinda nice once you get to know him,” she finally said.
“Yeah, yeah. You told me. I still don’t see what you see in him. What the heck do you talk about anyway?”
“Nothin’. Just school and stuff,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.
I just shook my head. I continued to paddle around on my back.
“So, what happened with Mom?” I was still curious about that whole mother-daughter bonding thing, even though I’d heard nearly everything through the kitchen door.
Phoebe floated on her back, too, with her eyes closed. “What is this, twenty questions?” she barked.
I laughed a little out loud. “No, just curious is all.”
“She cornered me like a cat corners a mouse,” she said flatly. “She wants me to start helping in the kitchen. She wants me to cook! Can you believe that?”
“Did you tell her about the toast?”
“Yeah, but it didn’t work,” she said, floating in circles. “I ain’t no good at cooking. I just wanta do stuff outside, like you and Dad. You’re lucky you’re a boy.”
“Yeah, it’s a tough job,” I said smiling.
“She wants me to be the queen of the kitchen. And I can’t draw anymore. Geez. She cornered me good.”
“Yeah, she can do that.” I stopped floating on my back and stood on the shallow bottom. “You don’t have to stop drawin’, Phoebs.”
Phoebe got to her feet, too. She wrinkled her nose, looking bored. “I know,” she said. “I think I’m gonna get out. I’m turnin’ into a prune. I guess I’m gonna go help Mom get dinner started, if you can believe that.”
“I’m gonna stay in here for a while longer.” I did a small back stroke and kicked out into the water facing upward. “I’ll take my steak medium-rare!”
Phoebe rolled her eyes as she dried off. “You’ll take it with a whack on the head!”
Phoebe sat at the dining room table, tearing open her birthday gifts. It was official, she was finally a teenager. Mom had her open her gifts at lunchtime, so Dad could get back to work.
She opened Grandpa’s gift first. He surprised everybody, particularly my mother, when Phoebe opened his gift.
“Oh!” Phoebe exclaimed in delight, “My first pair of earrings! Now I can get my ears pierced, right Mom?”
Mom rolled her eyes and stared at Grandpa. He smiled triumphantly. “We’ll talk, dear,” Mom responded, dryly. “Thank you, Dad,” she said, staring bullets through Grandpa.
“Thanks Grandpa! I love them!”
“You betcha, kiddo!” Grandpa laughed.
Next was my gift, which was big, square and flat. Her eyes bulged from their sockets as she tore the wrapping paper off. “Oh, Nick! Tell me you didn’t!” she squealed.
“Go on, open it,” I insisted.
She finished un-wrapping it and her jaw dropped. “You did! You got me the new Beatles’ albums!” Inside were two shiny new records I had picked up at Bailey’s. It’s amazing the crap you could find there, but I knew she would love it.
“Hey, it’s two!” she screamed again. “You got me both of their new ones! Sgt. Pepper and the Magical Mystery Tour album! Thanks Nicky!” She threw her arms around my neck and gave me a hug.
“Two albums?” my Dad asked inquisitively. “Boy, they make two at a time, huh? Terrific.”
“Seems that way,” I answered. “Crazy mopheads. I can’t believe I bought you that.”
“I can’t wait to listen to them.” Phoebe said, so excitedly. “Yes, they put out one in the spring and one in the fall. My friend Janey has Sgt. Pepper. Now we can both try and figure out who’s on the cover.” She beamed, scanning over the album covers. “This is so cool.”
The last gift was from Mom and Dad. It was about the size of a shoe box. Phoebe smiled from ear to ear as she un-wrapped it, revealing a brown leather case. I was curious what was in that nice case. And it was clear that Phoebe didn’t know what it was either.
It had a small button clasp on its front edge, which she pulled open, lifting the lid of the case. Her eyes filled with tears as she took it in. Inside were several neatly laid-out rows of fine drawing pens and pencils, as well as some small brushes for painting. Phoebe was speechless. She just sat there staring at the drawing set.
Dad finally broke the silence. “With all these nice tools, Phoebe, you’ll need something to draw on, now won’t you?”
The smile dropped from Phoebe’s face. “But…” she said, probably thinking about her forbidden wall.
“Maybe you should go up to your room,” Dad said, grinning. “I think you might find something up there you can work on.”
Phoebe looked around the room at everybody. For a moment she looked like she was being tricked.
“Well, go on,” Mom insisted.
Phoebe slowly walked upstairs to her bedroom door. Inching the door open, she peered in the room. Standing at the foot of the bed was a large drawing easel, complete with an artist board and the finest drawing paper. The board was easily three or four feet on a side and equipped with a nice tray to set her drawing instruments on. It had a small locking mechanism in the back so the drawing area could be moved from one side to the other or up and down. The easel was a work of art in itself. Sitting in front of the easel was a brand new wooden stool. The whole set was polished and shiny.
Phoebe looked it over in amazement, tears streaming down her face. It was the best gift she had ever received. As Mom and Dad quietly stood in the doorway, Phoebe sensed them behind her and said, “It’s beautiful. I don’t know what to say.”
“Your reaction says it all, dear,” Mom replied.
Tears still in her eyes, Phoebe ran to them and hugged them both. “Thank you,” she s
aid, with her face buried in Mom’s arms.
“Your welcome, kiddo,” Dad said, beaming down at her. “Now you have something else to draw on besides the wall.”
Still sniffling, Phoebe wiped the tears from her eyes and said, “I thought you were mad.”
“We weren’t mad, Phoebs,” Mom began. “We felt it was time you had your own proper tools so you can practice what you like to do without having to cover it up all the time with white paint. After all, you really do have talent and you should be able to keep what you create.”
“It’s the best gift ever!” Phoebe yelled, running over to her new easel to look it over more closely.
“Well, time for me to get back out there,” Dad said. “Still got some work to do yet. Have fun, kiddo.”
“I will, Dad.”
“I bet if you twisted your brother’s arm, he’d probably go swimming with you down at the pond. Got a nice sunny day for it.”
“That sounds like a great idea!” Phoebe shouted. “Nicky! Let’s go swimming!!”
“You don’t have to yell,” I answered. “I’m right here. Hey, pretty nifty,” I said, spotting the easel. “Bailey’s won’t know what to do now with all that white paint for sale. You were their only customer.”
“Come on, hurry up!” Phoebe insisted. “Go get ready. Last one in is a rotten egg!”
With Mosey in tow, Phoebe and I dashed down to the swimming pond. It was another great day for a dip in the ol’ swimming hole. All three of us splashed into the water at the same time. The water was warm and it felt great.
Phoebe was happy as can be, laughing and giggling as we splashed around in the water with Mosey. He was barking and splashing about, his tail sticking straight in the air.
“So, how’s it feel to be thirteen?” I called out.“Awesome,” she said with no hesitation. “I love being surprised like that. Did you see all those nice drawing pencils? Oh man, I can’t wait to try them out!”
“Sure did. Pretty cool.”
“And, thanks for the records. I’m gonna invite Janey over to listen to them as soon as I get back.” Phoebe was so excited. It was good to see her happy again.
“Sure. Just wait ‘til I’m outta the room.”
“Let’s go swing off the rope!” Phoebe shouted.
I beat her to the deep end and I climbed the rope, leaping from the branch and catching the rope like Tarzan. I swung back and forth a bit before letting myself drop to the water. I didn’t notice that the branch cracked a little as I was swung on it. After, Phoebe grabbed the rope and swung herself out, splashing into the water behind me.
“Come on, let’s go again,” she insisted.
“Okay, but I wanta practice holding my breath under water,” I answered. “I bet I can swim clear to the other side.”
We both climbed up and caught the rope swing. “You go first,” Phoebe said. “Do a cannonball. I’ll see how big a splash you make. Then I’ll do one, and you watch.”
I lunged forward hard on the rope, so I could get as high as I could before dropping towards the water in a cannonball. I felt the rope slip down a bit as I swung, as if the branch slipped while I was in mid-air. I let go early and made a so-so splash.
“Whoa, what was that?” I said, after I came to the surface.
“I don’t know, looked pretty lousy to me,” Phoebe shouted from the tree. “Watch me now!”
I started swimming underwater to one side of the pond, trying my luck at holding my breath underwater.
“Come on, look up here! See how high my splash is!”
“I’m lookin’. Just go!” I shouted back at her.
Taking a deep breath I submerged and began swimming towards the other end of the pond. Mosey watched as Phoebe stepped to the edge of the branch with the rope in her hand, soon lunging forth and swinging out to get as high as she could. Before she could let go, the branch above her snapped in two and Phoebe plunged into the water, the high tree branch barreling down on top of her. Before she knew it, the branch smashed onto her head, forcing her underwater with a yelp.
I could hear the splash from underwater but not her scream. It sounded to me like she did a great cannonball. So I kept swimming to the other side, finally popping my head above the surface, to hear Mosey barking frantically. He was staring towards the deep end.
“What’s wrong, boy?” I said. “Hey, Phoebs! I almost made it!” I shouted, but she was nowhere to be seen. “Phoebe! Where are you?” Mosey kept barking hysterically towards the deep end of the pond. I pulled myself out of the pond, yelling Phoebe’s name.
Before long, I saw the branch in the water with the rope floating nearby. It had snapped clean off.
“Oh, no. Phoebs!” I ran over to Mosey, who was beside himself. “Where is she boy?” Right away, I knew the branch must have hit her. “Oh no, oh no,” I said over and over.
I began to panic, but I still jumped in after her, holding my breath and searching blindly for her. I came up for air twice, but still I couldn’t find her.
“Phoebe!” I yelled out again over Moseys frantic barking. I dove down once more, searching madly.
At that second, Sooter ran towards the edge of the pond and leapt feet first into the water. He seemed to have come from out of nowhere. I heard the splash and within seconds, Sooter emerged with a lifeless Phoebe in his arms. I went pale as a sheet when I saw her.
“Sooter! Holy cow! Where did you come from? You found her! You found her!” I was talking a mile a minute. I quickly swam over to Sooter and helped him carry Phoebe out of the water. “Oh man. Thank God you showed up. I couldn’t find her!”
“I saw her fall from way out there,” Sooter answered, setting her down carefully.
How in the world did he see that? I thought to myself.
“Let’s set her down here,” he said, calmly knowing exactly to do. “Let’s get the water out of her right away.”
I was shaking as I carefully helped put her down. “Phoebe!” I cried. “Do you hear me? Wake up, now!”
“Calm down,” Sooter kept on. “We gots to get this water out.”
Sooter knelt down beside her and placed his palms on the middle of her rib cage. As he pumped her chest, Phoebe coughed up water and she began to breathe again. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, kneeling down and sobbing next to her. Still she didn’t open her eyes. She had a terrible cut on her head and blood was trickling down her face.
“Okay, she’s still out but she’s breathin’ now,” Sooter said. “Gots to get her in the house though. Get that towel over there, let’s keep her warm. You get her things and I’ll carry her.”
I wrapped her towel around her and Sooter picked her up and started carrying her towards the house. Mosey followed close behind us.
I was still shaking as I walked alongside Sooter. “We’re going to make it, Phoebs. Just hang on, okay?” I sure hoped she could hear me. I felt so rotten. I should have been watching her. I wanted to kick myself. “Just hang on, Phoebs. We’re almost there,” I kept saying over and over.
We finally reached the house. Dad noticed us coming, so he met us at the foot of the porch. Mom came running out the house too.
“She done got hit on the head out there,” Sooter told them.
“Phoebe, Phoebe!” Mom called out in a panic.
“Get her inside!” Dad said.
Mom took Phoebe from Sooter’s arms and quickly carried her up the stairs. Looking very concerned, Grandpa watched as she carried her.
Dad clumsily shook Sooter’s hand before heading upstairs behind Mom. “I don’t know how to thank you. If you weren’t there…” He trailed off.
Sooter knew though and there was no reason to thank him. I didn’t know how to thank him either. I was just sure glad that he showed up when he did.
I collapsed on the porch steps, still beside myself with guilt and grief when Grandpa came shuffling up beside me. “She’ll be okay. We better
call the doc though. I’ll go get him on the line.” He patted my head and went inside. I glanced over at Sooter who was still staring at the upstairs window, looking pretty concerned too. I could see it in his eyes. Sooter nodded at Grandpa as he made his way into the house to use the phone. I just sat there and sobbed, glad we’d gotten her home.
Dr. Dozous had been the family doctor since before Phoebe and I were born. “She took a nasty knock on the head, Mrs. Havens,” he explained. “Looks like it may be a pretty bad concussion. I bandaged the cut on her head and gave her a little bit of aspirin.” Mom nodded with a weary expression. “Best we keep her here. No sense in movin’ her around with her head all banged up. It may take a while for her to come around though. Just try to give her some water from time to time if you can get it down her.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Mom said, graciously.
“Thanks, Howard, for comin’ out so quickly,” Grandpa said, shaking his hand.
“Sure. I’ll check in on her tomorrow,” Dozous replied.
Beside myself with anguish, I just couldn’t see her yet. Sooter sat there next to me. I kept thinking about how I could be such a moron sometimes. She had asked me to watch her do a cannonball but I just ignored her and did my own stupid thing. I kept repeating in my head how close I got to losing my little sister. It still gives me an awful feeling to this day.
“You saved her, Sooter,” I finally said, breaking the long silence. “You saved her.” I sniffed my nose and put my head in my hands, trying to shake away the guilt. “You saved her and I couldn’t.”
“Yes you woulda,” Sooter responded, rocking back and forth next to me. “I was just in the right place at the right time. You’da found her if I hadn’t come along. Heck, I didn’t do much. She was no mo than fo or five feet away from you. Mmm-hm. You woulda found her right then, Mr. Nick.”
I wiped my nose and lifted my head. “Maybe so.” Shaking my head, I stared back down at the floor. “I should’ve watched her for cryin’ out loud. I shoulda told her to go first. It should have broken with me on that swing. Maybe I could have dodged the branch.” Boy, I was a mess.
“Now Mr. Nick,” Sooter stopped me. “You gots to get that foolishness out yo head. Can’t change the way things happened out yonder. You just make yourself crazy thataway. Ain’t nothin’ you did out there was wrong.”
“Maybe so,” I said again.
“Ain’t no maybe about it.”
I stared at the martins coming and going from their house, chirping and playing and attending to their own worries. “I ain’t never thanked you, Sooter,” I spoke up.
Sooter leaned back in his rocking chair, brushing my comment aside. “Now Mr. Nick, you ain’t got to thank me for nothin’. I did what anybody else woulda done.”
“No, I don’t mean that,” I answered. “All these years you been showin’ me how to do things, like workin’ those trees and helpin’ me do my chores everywhere so Dad won’t get on me. And, just…well. Just talkin’ to me.” Sooter glanced over at me, looking surprised. “I always like it when we get to talk. Especially out by that old tree of yours.”
Sooter kept rocking back and forth. “Well, everybody needs somebody to talk to, now and then, I suppose,” he finally answered.
Just then, Dr. Dozous walked out carrying his little black medical bag. He came down the porch to where we were sitting. I jumped from my chair as soon as I saw him.
“How is she, Doc?” I asked quickly.
“She gonna be fine, Nick,” the doctor answered. “Just gonna need some time to rest. I best be gettin’ back now.” He tipped his hat to Sooter. “Mr. Malloy, how do? I hear you was Johnny-on-the-spot this afternoon. Glad you was there.”
Sooter nodded back graciously. He didn’t seem to want to say anything more. I guessed he had had enough of people thanking him and didn’t want any more attention.
“I best be gettin’ on home too, Mr. Nick,” he said. “Go on up there now.”
I watched Sooter and Dr. Dozous leave. The doctor’s car pulled away in a cloud of dust, obscuring my view. Sooter disappeared behind the cloud of dust as he walked home.
Phoebe’s easel stood untouched at the foot of her bed. She lay motionless in her bed and Mom covered her up with blankets. Thankfully I could see her stomach rise and fall from her breathing.
“Let’s let her rest, Nick,” Mom said quietly.
“How long will she be asleep, Mom?”
“I don’t know, Nicky. She just needs to rest right now.”
I was crushed. I doubted that Mom really knew how long Phoebe would be like that. Mom must have been worried sick too. I hated to see Phoebe lying there not responding to anyone. I had never experienced anything like it before. I wanted her to wake up so badly.
Mom shut the door to Phoebe’s room and sighed to herself.
“I’m sorry, Mama. It’s my fault she’s like that.” I said, shaking. I really felt awful. Mom could sense I was a mess too.
“It’s alright,” she answered, sympathetically. “Accidents happen you know. If I had a nickel every time you two got into trouble, I’d be a millionaire by now.” I know she was trying to cheer me up, but it wasn’t working. “She’s a strong little girl. She’ll be alright. I know you’re worried about her. We all are. Just say some prayers for her and she’ll be alright.”
Mom walked downstairs and I went into my room and stared out my window. My mood was the weirdest it had ever been. It was the strangest feeling I had ever felt. I was powerless to do anything to help her and I couldn’t stand it. I was completely overcome with guilt for what happened to Phoebe.
The next morning I heard Mom go check in on Phoebe. I got out of bed right away and joined her.
“Is she awake?” I whispered from the doorway. Mom was carefully giving her a sip of water from a glass.
“She still hasn’t opened her eyes,” Mom answered dolefully. “I just don’t want her to get dehydrated.”
I started shaking again. My eyes were red and sore because I had slept terribly. “Should we call Dr. Dozous again?”
“He’ll be here later this morning,” Mom replied. “Let’s leave her be for now.”
I got dressed and went out to the porch to wait for the doctor, soon pacing around like an expectant father. Grandpa was sitting on his bench again, waiting for the martins. We had seen a few coming by the birdhouse in the days before but none had begun to build a nest yet. Grandpa waited for them patiently, as he did every spring.
“Come here and sit down before you drive us both crazy,” Grandpa called from the yard. I obliged, sitting down next to him.
“You’ll make yourself sick worryin’ the way you are,” he said.
“She wouldn’t be laid up like that if it weren’t for me,” I said. I was still feeling sorry for myself. I was such a moron.
“Oh nonsense, boy,” Grandpa scolded me. “Things just happen, you know that. Ain’t nobody’s fault any which way. Sometimes it’s not in our power to prevent things. The best lesson you can learn is how to handle these things when they do happen. Now quit your worryin’.”
We both watched the martins fly high above the house, catching their morning meal. Their chirping calmed me down somewhat.
“Isn’t that the loveliest sound you ever heard?” Grandpa said, smiling broadly. He sure loved to watch those birds.
I nodded. “Sure is, Grandpa. Sure is.” I couldn’t believe it but they were actually helping me to feel a bit better.
Later that day, Dr. Dozous came and checked Phoebe over again. We all waited downstairs for him to come back down.
“She’s got a slight fever,” Dr. Dozous said. “I guess the bump on her head was worse than I thought. I figured she’d come around by this morning.”
Mom’s expression turned pale. If she wasn’t worried by then, she sure was now.
The doctor continued, “I gave her a little more aspirin to try and break the fever. If she doesn’
t come around by tomorrow, I think we need to take her into Laurel and get another set of eyes on her. They can watch her around the clock there.”
Mom sobbed, burying her face in Dad’s chest. Grandpa and I could see how miserable they were and how it must have been tearing them apart inside to see their little girl like that. I knew he must have felt sad because I did too.
“Just keep a close eye on her tonight, Mrs. Havens,” Dozous instructed. “I’ll be here first thing in the morning.” Mom nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes. Dad shook his hand and walked him to his car.
Late that night, Grandpa stood in the doorway of Phoebe’s room, leaning on his cane and staring at her unconscious form. I’m sure he didn’t want to see his granddaughter like this.
Shuffling inside her room, he softly pulled a chair to the side of her bed. Phoebe slept quietly, her head still bandaged just above her forehead. She lay perfectly still and he placed his hand on hers and squeezed it lightly.
“I used to watch you sleep when you were just a baby,” he said. “I used to tell your mama that you looked just like a little angel that had come down to rest in your warm little crib. You never cried a once. Just sleeping away quietly, just like you are now.”
Phoebe lay asleep but I’m sure Grandpa hoped his words were getting to her. “Did I ever tell you the story about how your grandmother and I met? I bet you never heard this one before. Well, it’s quite a story. I was no more than eighteen when I first saw her. She had just moved down from Arkansas a few days earlier. Her pa had bought the old Stratton place a few miles down the road. The McDowell’s own it now. You know their daughter Janey. Anyway, they came down with a trailer full of ponies that year. I had heard about them moving in but hadn’t met them yet. Taylor was their name. Their field backed up to ours with only a wire fence between them.
“So, I was out one day on my trusty horse, checking the fence line. I rode along for a while when suddenly I spotted a beautiful brown mare standing alone out in the greenest pasture you ever did see. She had a solid black mane with a tail to match, shining like black gold in the sunshine. It was the most beautiful horse I had ever seen and I wondered, ‘Now how did that horse get out there without me seeing her?’ I sure hadn’t seen her at all ‘til then. As I watched, the horse took a few steps to the side. It was then I first saw her. Behind that horse was the most beautiful young blonde I ever laid eyes on. Her beauty had me so distracted I didn’t even see the tree branch coming straight for my head. My horse ran under a tree and I forgot to duck and that tree whomped me but good. I came tumbling off my horse and landed flat on my back!” Grandpa chuckled to himself as the memories came rushing to him as clear as day.
“Anyway, I shook the cobwebs from my head and looked up. Right then I saw the sweetest face and the prettiest smile I ever did see. I tried to speak but no words would come. I had fallen in love with her that very second. I sure wished I could have said something though. I probably looked a fool lying there on the ground in a heap, but she finally spoke. ‘Ain’t you gonna introduce yourself, or are you just gonna lay there all day?’ That was all it took. Your grandma was such sight to behold. Knocked me clean off my horse she did. From then on, I courted her every day until she finally said yes.”
Grandpa sighed, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. He squeezed Phoebe’s hand again. “I wish you had known her. She was a lovely woman. She always wanted to have a granddaughter. I tell her every day that she has the finest.”
He patted her hand one more time before slowly standing. “You’re going to be alright little lady. Be good as new before you know it.” He smiled at her as she lay there, before shuffling toward the hallway and pulling the door closed behind him.
I woke up the next morning and my head felt heavy. I’d slept so hard, I felt like a truck had run me over. I must have slept right through the alarm clock from hell. I peeked over the covers at the window, seeing the morning light beginning to burn behind the curtains. I could have easily gone back to sleep though because for some reason I was still beat.
Thinking of Phoebe I quickly came to my senses. Suddenly, I heard the sound of movement in the next room.
“Phoebs,” I whispered to myself.
I jumped out of bed and threw on my robe, soon standing in the dimly-lit hallway, staring at her closed door. Maybe Mom was in there checking on her, I thought.
I slowly opened her door and peered inside. Relief washed over me like a warm ray of sunlight when I looked and saw Phoebe standing there in her pajamas, staring out the window. I noticed she had removed the bandage from her head. The cut on her head had already healed somewhat.
“It’s about time you got up,” I said to her, my relief clear in my voice.
She didn’t answer me for a moment, still staring outside. Soon, she smiled and looked over her shoulder. “Hey kiddo,” she finally said.
Just at that moment, I realized that Phoebe didn’t look like a kid anymore. Her smile and her posture as she stood at the window told me that she was growing up.
I rushed over and threw my arms around her. I was sure glad to see her awake.
“You just get up?” I asked her.
“No,” she said, nonchalantly. “I’ve been up most of the night. But, everyone else was still asleep, so I just started drawing.”
“Drawing?” I asked, looking all around at her walls.
“Yeah, I drew that,” she said, pointing at her easel.
On her easel was a beautiful drawing of an open green field, dotted with distant trees. The field was surrounded by a wooden fence and in the middle of the field was a lone brown horse, grazing in the grass. The horse had a shiny black mane and tail to match.
“Wow, Phoebs. That’s pretty good!” I exclaimed. I wasn’t kidding either. It was the best work she had ever done. “You did that in one night?” I was impressed. “How’d you come up with that one?”
At that, Mom and Dad appeared in her doorway.“Mom! Dad! She’s awake!” I shouted. Phoebe beamed and ran over to hug them both.
“Phoebe!” Mom cried. “We were so worried.”
“I’m okay now, Mom,” Phoebe answered.
“Good to have you back, kiddo,” Dad said, hugging her tightly.
Grandpa shuffled down the hallway and stood behind Mom and Dad, catching a glimpse of Phoebe, still hugging both of them as tight as she could. A smile crept over his face and he nodded satisfyingly. He didn’t say a word and hobbled down the stairs.
Dad, Phoebe and I sat at the breakfast table. I munched on my cereal as Phoebe buttered a piece of toast.
“Are you feeling hungry?” Dad asked her.
“How long was I asleep?” Phoebe asked, setting down her butter knife and looking up as if she had just realized what had happened to her.
“You were asleep for more than two days, honey,” Dad replied, hoping to not surprise her too much.
Phoebe’s face was expressionless for a moment, but soon she perked up and began buttering her toast again. “Oh. Well, I oughta be hungry then!”
She certainly took the news well, I thought to myself.
Mom came in from the kitchen with a cup of coffee in her hand and actually sat down with us at the breakfast table. She smiled with relief in her eyes as she sipped her coffee and looked at Phoebe warmly.
After I got dressed, I felt rejuvenated. With a kick in my step, I ran downstairs and looked out into the yard. The sun was shining bright and Grandpa was in his usual spot under the tree on the bench. The martins were flying all about, catching their morning meal and singing beautifully.
“Today’s the day,” I said to myself.
I ran outside, calling out a quick “Mornin’ Grandpa!” as I ran by. He didn’t respond as I went rushing past.
I ran over to the chicken coop and grabbed the swinging stick and the best rock I could find, one that was good and round like a ball. I sized up the tall barn and nod
ded confidently.
Old Gray stared at me anxiously, looking like he was hoping I would give it up already and feed him. He neighed loudly, as if he were laughing at me again.
“You keep laughin’, you dumb ol’ mule,” I answered him. “You just watch me this time.”
I readied the stick on my shoulder. Something felt different about that day. That was for sure. I could feel it. I just knew I was going to hit that darn rock this time.
I tossed the rock into the air and watched it come down. This time I waited one split second longer and then…crack! To my surprise, the rock sailed away, higher and higher, to the top of the barn, ever higher and soon disappeared across the peak. I stood with a look of shock on my face.
“I did it!” I shouted. “I hit…I hit it over!” I still couldn’t believe what I had done. It was the first time I had ever made contact with that darn ol’ stick.
I dropped the stick and ran around the barn, past the mule pen, laughing as I went. “Ha, ya darn old mule!” I teased Old Gray. “Didn’t think I’d do it, did ya?”
I dashed to the other side of the barn, looking around madly and within seconds, I’d spotted the rock, plain as day, sitting in the dirt. I picked it up and stared at it with pride. I looked back up at the roof of the barn, remembering how high it had gone. “Wow. I sure knocked that one good!”
I raced back around the barn, looking for anyone with whom to share my excitement. Spotting Grandpa over on his bench, watching the martins, I shouted, “Grandpa! Did you see that? I did it!” I jogged over and plopped down next to him. Smiling broadly and with beads of sweat forming on my forehead, I said, “Oh man, did you see that Grandpa? I finally hit one. I hit that sucker clean over the…”
Grandpa was silent. In fact, he sat with his head slumped over his chest, as if he were napping.
“Grandpa, are you awake?” I asked him again. He still didn’t answer. He didn’t even move.
My face fell and a wave of despair came rushing over me again, even more so when I knew Phoebe was hurt. The martins kept flying around and chirping away, paying us little attention. First my hands began to shake and then my whole body began to tremble. I didn’t want it to be true. Not at all. I tried once more. I placed my hand on his shoulder and nudged him a bit.
“Grandpa, did you see me? I finally hit one over.” My voice trembled.
When he didn’t respond I began to cry. I sat on the bench next to him, sobbing. The martins kept flying to and fro.
I didn’t know what to do. I knew I’d have to go tell somebody but I was shocked and paralyzed. I tried to pull my thoughts together. I had always feared that this day would come but I never really prepared for it.
Shaking all over I sniffed and dried the tears from my face. Grandpa just looked like he was asleep. An odd comfort came over me. I realized he was finally at peace. Knowing Phoebe was all right, he came out to see his beloved martins one last time. He was exactly where he wanted to be.
“They made it here again this year, Grandpa,” I said, “looks like four or five pairs of them, all building a nest. You got to see them one last time.”
I sat with my grandpa for a few moments more, watching the martins like we always did. Soon, I gathered myself and stood.
I looked at my grandfather one last time, sitting on his favorite bench. It was the way I wanted to remember him, at the place where he was happiest. I didn’t know it, but that day I did some growing up myself, whether I knew it or not. Of course I didn’t understand it at the time. Some days are just different that way.
I slowly walked up the porch steps and went inside. I found my Dad in his office, doing some paperwork. Sitting down next to him I quietly told him that his father had just passed away.
I stood in front of my dresser, looking at my reflection in the mirror. I had on my dark blue suit and a dark tie. I rarely wore a tie. Even to this day, I still don’t. But that day I put one on without anyone asking me to.
Phoebes was almost ready. I saw that she had on her best Sunday dress, the dark blue one with red trim on the sleeves. She was staring at her drawing on the easel.
“What are you staring at?” I asked.
“At this drawing.”
I curled my bottom lip and nodded nonchalantly. “It’s not bad. You’ve got quite an imagination, Phoebs.”
“I think I had a dream about this. That’s what made me draw it after I woke up.”
“No kidding? Must have been some dream.”
“I dreamed Grandpa was showing it to me. He told me this whole story about it. Isn’t that weird?” she asked, turning toward me. I shrugged my shoulders. “Did you ever know how Grandpa and Grandma met each other?”
“I don’t know Phoebs. Come on, we better go.” I said, putting my hands in my pockets and following her downstairs.
Dad was also wearing his dark suit and tie too and Mom was dressed in her black funeral dress. Dad looked so sophisticated in his church-going hat, an odd sight for sure since he rarely wore anything other than his work clothes and boots.
We all piled into Mom’s light blue four-door Chevy. It was one of those cars that nobody really drove. If she ever went into town, she just took the old pickup. But on special occasions we did take the car. This was one of them.
I sat in the back with Phoebe. She sat slumped in her seat with her arms folded, just staring at the floorboard. I didn’t have much to say either. In fact, everyone was pretty quiet as Dad drove the car down the dirt road.
Turning towards town, Dad followed a small procession of cars to the cemetery, with our car driving right behind the big black Hearse carrying the casket.
I sat staring out the window, trying to come to terms with the reality of the situation. I knew that people died, I had just never experienced it myself. I was too young to remember when Grandma died. It was so long ago that Phoebe hadn’t even born yet. No matter how you looked at it, I couldn’t wrap my head around it. It was just something you had to go through in life.
Staring out the window, suddenly something caught my attention. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was so surprised I could barely speak.
“Look!” I said loudly, sputtering and shaking Phoebe’s arm. “Phoebe, you gotta look outside!”
Phoebe raised her sad eyes from the floor and looked out her window. She jumped in her seat and placed both hands on the glass, staring with her eyes wide open in disbelief.
Wildflowers covered both sides of the road, as far as the eye could see, filling the entire countryside with vibrant color. There were dark oranges, light purples, yellows, whites and reds, all sorts of wildflowers growing everywhere. It was the most amazing sight I ever did see. It went on for miles, all the way into town.
She had done it. Phoebe’s wildflowers had finally come up. All those years of spreading seed had finally paid off.
“Look at them, would ya!” I exclaimed, in disbelief. “They’re everywhere!”
“Oh my!” Mom said, holding her breath. “Phoebe! Did you do this?”
Phoebe sat on her knees, with her face glued to the window, her eyes transfixed on the sight before her. She was speechless.
I slid across the seat and looked over her shoulder at the beautiful wildflowers.
“You did it, Phoebs,” I told her. “You finally grew Grandpa’s flowers. Just in time.”
A single tear began to run down her cheek. “No…” she said softly. “No. Not like this.” She sat down and began to sob uncontrollably. I tried to console her but it was no use.
Dad sat quietly, not betraying his thoughts. There was no telling what was going through his mind. I couldn’t imagine, following behind the car that carried your father’s casket and seeing all this incredible beauty along the way. Finally, he reached behind his seat and patted Phoebe on the knee.
“It’s okay, kiddo. You did good,” was all he said.
About half of the town of Clara and folks from all around the
countryside showed up for the funeral. A few of the kids had gathered some of Phoebe’s wildflowers and placed them neatly atop the casket.
Everyone stood silently as the priest read from the Bible. I looked across the way and caught sight of Sooter. He held his worn hat in his hands, looking at the burial site solemnly. His wife Beatrice stood next to him, wearing the same black dress I always saw her in when she went walking.
Timmons and Bouriette stood a little further over from them. Even my buddy Asa came with his parents and Phoebe’s friend Janey came with hers. Practically the whole town had shown up for Grandpa’s funeral.
No one could ever make me laugh like Grandpa did, but no one helped me appreciate the simpler things in life the way he did, either. I thought of all the ways I would remember him, but the more I did, the worse I felt. I wasn’t used to these feelings. I know ol’ Phoebe wasn’t either. I was glad that she had woken up to see Grandpa one last time, though.
It’s amazing how people can pick up and move on after a loved one’s death. To me, the whole world should have stopped that day, but it didn’t. I hated being so confused by such things. All I knew was that my grandfather was gone and that it would probably take me a long time to understand it. I guess things are just that way sometimes.
Anyway, if it weren’t for Phoebe’s flowers, it probably would have been just another funeral to a lot of people. But, thanks to Phoebe, people talked about that miraculous display for years after. It turned out to be the best way to honor my grandpa. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Shaking the Tree Page 5
