“What brings you across the street, Dixie?” Sook inquired without lifting her eyes from the precise rows of vegetables.
“Sookie, it dawned on me this morning, I haven’t come over and formally introduced myself to your visiting niece.” Dixie’s left eyelid involuntarily twitched. “Is it Loretta?”
I offered up, “Miss Loretta is my momma, Mrs. McAllister.”
Dixie feigned a sympathetic sigh, “Well, sugar, bless your heart. Is she now? I’m ashamed of myself for not coming by sooner and bringing over one of my coconut cream pies.”
“Don’t want none of your pies, Dixie,” Sook muttered. “Your last pie gave me the squirts.”
Dixie attempted to rise above Sook’s vulgarity. “This mornin’ I said to myself, Dixie McAllister, you’ve waited entirely too long to stop by and say howdy to Sook’s house guest! I’m just an awful neighbor for not being more hospitable.”
Aunt Sookie hollered up to the open second floor window, “Loretta, you got a visitor!”
“Sookie, there’s no need to disturb your kin, if she’s currently occupied with pressing matters.” Dixie’s left eye uncontrollably blinked in rapid succession.
“No, she ain’t occupied.” Sookie called out again, “Loretta, you got company! Get your fat, lazy ass outta bed!”
“Oh my.” Dixie blushed red, as if her miniscule ears hadn’t ever been polluted by a curse word.
Sook remarked, “Dixie, what the hell is wrong with your eye? You look like a gawd-damned buffoon.”
“It’s just a silly spasm. Pay it no mind.”
From the open window, Loretta’s voice complained, “Shut up all that gawd-damned racket. Can’t a gal get some sleep around here?”
Sookie shouted, “Miss Loretta, someone has come calling for you!”
“Who?”
Sook answered, “Dixie.”
Loretta’s voice bellowed from the open window. “Ain’t acquainted with no Dixie! Leave me be! A woman needs her beauty sleep.”
“Loretta, you’d need to snooze for a decade to ever appear presentable!” Sook yelled. “It ain’t polite keeping your guest waiting.”
From her open window, we could hear the sounds of Loretta tripping over chairs, stumbling on suitcases and cursing up a storm.
She arrived to her window butt naked. Her pile of ratted yellow hair appeared to have been whipped in a coastal hurricane. Her eyes were smudged with teal makeup, and her two mighty jugs were exposed to all of Georgia.
Sheltering her eyes from the Savannah sun, Loretta grumbled, “Whadayawant?”
Dixie gasped at the obscene sight of Loretta and her pendulous knockers. Mrs. McAllister took a deep step backward. “Good morning, Miss Loretta,” she stuttered through a nervous greeting, “I wanted to stop by and welcome you to our fair city.”
Sook remarked, “Dixie here is the welcoming committee of Savannah. She’s the ambassador of all things good and righteous and holy.”
Miss Loretta leaned out the open window. Her pendulous heavy breasts dropped a considerable distance past the window trim, as if they were racing each other to the ground below. “Well, ain’t this down-right neighborly of you? That’s mighty hospitable.” Loretta grinned and scratched beneath her left tit. “Now, please, excuse me, ladies. I gotta whizz like a derby race horse.”
“Oh my.” Dixie swallowed hard. “Of course, Miss Loretta. Have yourself a lovely day.”
Mrs. McAllister attempted to gain some pittance of her composure and took herself back across the street.
Standing at her kitchen counter, Donita went about icing the red velvet cake. With her knife, she smoothed the buttercream icing, coating the sides and spreading over the top of the freshly baked crimson dessert.
I watched on as she meticulously covered the fluffy white topping evenly about the round layers. She applied the icing until it sat perfectly pretty on a cut-crystal glass stand.
Donita offered me the knife, and I licked the utensil clean. She filled her piping bag with a sugary scarlet red frosting. She began forming perfect tiny rose buds around the cake’s perimeter.
“It’s Rodney’s favorite,” Donita said as she went about decorating the red velvet dessert. “Rodney deserves a cake. Life has been so tough. The prosecutors aren’t cutting him any slack.”
I asked, “What will happen if Mr. Pendergast has to go away for a spell? What will you do?”
“I’m fixin’ to get me a job,” she answered with a sense of pride. “I’ve never been scared of hard work. My family has struggled all our lives. I’ve had to labor for everything I’ve got.”
“What kind of job, Donita?”
“I’ve been talkin’ to Principal Ginn over at Savannah High. I may be hired on at the cafeteria or try waitressing at Delia’s. A few local restaurants mentioned that they’d buy my cakes and pies. My Rodney absolutely despises the idea of me workin’, but it’s something I have to do. We can’t borrow no more money from my folks. They can’t even make their own ends meet.”
“Ain’t Mr. Pendergast’s folks wealthy?”
She shook her head while she concentrated on the intricate sugary buds. “Rodney’s too proud.”
“Sookie says a man’s pride is his undoing.”
“Poppy, your aunt Sookie is correct. Pride can make a kind man callous.” She wiped her hands on the front of her apron, then asked with a satisfied smile, “Well, what do you think?”
“It’s lovely. It looks scrumptious.”
“I hope it makes my Rodney happy.”
I asked, “Mrs. Pendergast, does your Rodney ever hit you?”
Donita responded without taking a breath, “No, never. Why would you ask such a thing?”
I instantly knew I’d treaded down a perilous path Donita wasn’t willing to walk. “Just wondering,” I said. “Sometimes I’ve seen you wearin’ some awful bruises.”
“Oh, never mind those. I’m just a terrible klutz. Rodney says I can’t walk a straight line without trippin’ over something or the other.”
Avoiding my eyes, she walked across the kitchen and busied herself at the sink. The room suddenly felt small and awkward.
“Donita, my apologies, if I stuck my nose someplace where I ought not.”
“Goodness, no.” Her back was turned to me as she went about washing the dishes. “Besides, no self-respectin’ man would ever strike a lady. And no self-respectin’ woman would ever stand for it.”
Stumbling through the back door in the wee hours of the morning, Loretta was greeted by a waiting Sook. Their irate exchange echoed in the foyer and down the long corridors.
“Loretta, what the hell are you doin’ out at these ungodly hours of the night?”
“Leave me be, Sook.”
“Just take a look at yourself. You’re a walkin’ skeleton,” Aunt Sook remarked. “You need to eat yourself a proper meal and get a good night’s rest.”
“Sookie, I’ll have you know I was out with a respectable gentleman.”
“Horseshit! A true gentleman wouldn’t never keep a lady out until dawn. Child, that’s the kind of filth you can’t never wash off. One of these nights you’re gonna find yourself in the company of a very bad man. I heard all about your night in Tulsa a few years back. Missy, you’re gonna end up dead in a dirty motel room.”
“You’re cruel, Sookie.”
“Call me what you will, but this reckless behavior must stop,” Sook hollered. “You ain’t pulling the wool over this old sheep’s eyes. You’re injecting’ your body with poison and carryin’ on with men who’d rather see you on your back than look in the whites of your eyes.”
“Ain’t true!” Loretta yelled. “You’re a vicious, nasty old woman!”
“Missy, you’d best start thinking about packing your belongings and heading out.”
“Fine! It just so happens that there’s a certain fella who wants me to move with him to Fort Worth,” Loretta announced. “He’s got a big spread, over a thousand acres.”
“Aw, that
’s a barrel full of bullshit!” Sookie remarked. “Let’s see if your cowboy takes you as far as the gas station.”
“Fuck you, Sook. Fuck you!”
The sound of Miss Loretta stomping up the stairs was followed by the slamming of the door to her room.
Sook hollered, “I’m at my wits end!”
The house went quiet.
I laid in my bed, waiting, until I heard the shuffle of my aunt’s journey up the stairs, followed by the closing of her bedroom door.
It seemed to me Loretta believed she had to go searching to the far ends of God’s green earth to find herself some love. She’d worn off the rubber soles from her red pumps walking dirty sidewalks, hunting for a man’s affection. I didn’t suspect there wasn’t a nook and cranny where she hadn’t gone poking her nose in her search. Like some fairy tale or a great love affair in a picture show, Loretta believed she’d find love in a pair of longing eyes, and all the world would be gentle and kind.
Bowing my head, hands clasped, I prayed to the Lord to guide Miss Loretta to love before the search would kill her. I prayed for the forgiveness of all her sins and that the Almighty might see fit to quiet her cravings.
Outside my room, the sound of her bedroom door slowly opening stopped me mid prayer. I listened on. Loretta tip-toed in stocking feet in the hall and down the steps, careful not to make a squeak. In the foyer, she cautiously opened the front door, and once she was outside, I heard the clicking of her heels on the sidewalk, disappearing into the unforgiving night.
CHAPTER 25
If Donita had the gumption, she’d run.
If she was the courageous kind, she would’ve packed up her belongings and left Rodney in the dead of night. If Donita Pendergast could have seen any clear path leading from Rodney to a place where she could breathe freely, surely, she would’ve followed it out from the dark and into the light. But Donita Pendergast was caught. She was cornered, and all paths seemed to lead right back to the crumbling little house, out past the railroad tracks.
It was December in Savannah, but instead of Christmas cards arriving to the Pendergast’s postbox, only more past-due bills and late notices were delivered. The judge had set Rodney’s trial date for August. His attorney begged his stubborn client to accept the prosecutor’s plea deal. Rodney’s folks asked for leniency from old Judge Cleveland—but the judge wasn’t hearing none of it.
One Sunday after church, Donita confessed to Sookie and me that she was weary from the constant struggle. “Rodney’s father is certain Rodney won’t see any jail time,” she confided. “I’m certain if we can just get past Rodney’s legal troubles, and if the auto shop starts turning a profit, we can make it.”
Sook replied, “Donita, no arrest or no meager bank balance is reason for a man to raise his hands in anger.”
“Rodney is just under so much stress,” she said. The lace collar of her cotton dress effectively covered the bruises about her neck, but she still clinched it closed with her left hand. “He came home last night wanting to make amends. He brought me the prettiest bouquet of happy yellow flowers. He has sworn off the bottle and promised to get himself clean.”
“Child, you’d best gather your strength, and leave that house of shame.” Sook shook her head. “When a desperate man’s lips are flappin’, he’s usually lyin’.”
“No, I believe him this time.” Donita’s weary eyes turned to the ground. She sniffled and wiped her forearm across her red nose.”
Sook reached for Donita’s blouse, slightly opening the collar, exposing the bruises. “What kind of man loves like this?” With her index finger, Sookie lifted Donita’s sunken chin and met her gaze. “Child, you’d best remember who you are. Don’t you ever let a man make you feel unworthy.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I spoke up, “Donita, why don’t you stay here with us for a spell.”
“No, Poppy, I can’t do that.” She attempted a smile.
Sookie pushed a sealed envelope across the table to Donita. “Take this, and pay your bills. Stock your cupboards with groceries.”
Donita stared at the envelope like it held some forbidden secret. “I just can’t.”
“Missy, there won’t be any further discussion.”
She fought back welling tears. “It’s all gone so wrong. I don’t recognize my life.” Hesitant, she reached for the money. “I can’t thank you enough. Of course, I’ll pay you back every dime. I’ll pawn my wedding band and pay you back every last dime.”
Sook shook her head. “My late mother used to say that there are three rings in marriage: the engagement ring, the wedding ring, and suffering.”
Donita almost cracked a grin. “Well, ladies, I must go. He’ll be hunting him some supper.” She stood from the table. Gripping the envelope, she mouthed a silent thank you to Sookie. Gathering her purse and sweater, Donita turned to us. “We were happy for a time, Rodney and me.” She was seemingly attempting to convince Sook and me of something she couldn’t believe herself. “He wasn’t always like this. Rodney was a sweet boy. When we first met in school, Rodney was a real sweet boy.”
“Some beautiful boys never out grow their glory days,” Sookie replied. “Charles Pendergast should have used a leather strap on all three of his boys.”
Donita wished us a fine afternoon and left for home.
Sook poured herself a cup of black coffee. “Trouble is gonna find that woman.”
I said, “For the likes of me, I can’t understand why Donita frets so for a man who don’t seem to hold no affections for her.”
She sipped from a chipped cup. “From the cradle to the grave, Southern women are schooled in the proper social graces. They are judged solely on their pie crusts and the heights of their ratted hair. They go about town batting their eyelashes and shaking their pretty tail feathers. They say bless you when they mean fuck you. They say yes to a tablespoon of poison just to avoid a spat. And they blame a sleeping dog when they fart in public.” Sook sat her cup in the saucer. “Shame on the woman who lets a man ever raise a fist to her in anger. Poppy, don’t you ever be a consolation prize.”
CHAPTER 26
Christmas arrived in Savannah with all the pageantry of a formal cotillion. The grand homes along Digby were dressed in their finest. Twinkling lights were strung along the eaves of the elegant estates, their front doors adorned with spruce wreaths. All the street lamps along Digby were decorated with red bows and plastic candy canes. Majestic Christmas trees, draped in silver and gold garlands, stood in every front window.
Aunt Sook permitted Jackson and me to go select a silver spruce from the corner tree stand.
Jackson stood at the base of the stairs, waiting on me. “Hurry up, Poppy! The tree lot is gonna close.”
“I’m comin’. I’m comin’.”
“I’ll never understand why you gals have to be late every dadgum time.”
“Hold your horses! Miss Loretta says it’s better for a lady to arrive late, rather than show up timely but ugly.”
I deliberated up and down the rows of pines while Jackson stood by.
He complained, “Poppy, we’ll be ringing in nineteen sixty-nine before you pick a dadgum tree. Do you suppose you could hurry it up?”
I paid the man four dollars for an eight-foot-tall pine, and Jackson carried it all the way back home on his broad shoulders.
When no one was watching, he kissed me softly under a holly sprig over Sook’s front door.
Miss Loretta went missing for the holiday. Out late on most of those December nights, she’d disappear into her room during the daylight hours. I slid platters of warm vittles outside her door, only to find them still untouched the next morning.
I watched as my momma withered away to nothing and bone. With each surrendered pound from her frame, my hopes for her diminished like those many times before. The smack stole my momma from me one pound at a time.
One afternoon I tempted her to join me out Christmas shopping along Broughton. Momma stared dumbly through the
storefront windows as we strolled along the sidewalk. Her clammy hand trembled in my palms. I squeezed, flashing her a smile, but she was lost to me. Her eyes were glassy, and her greasy unkempt blond hair showed dark black roots, as if her follicles were leaking motor oil.
Loretta examined the heavy gray sky above us, as if she was certain it would fall.
“Miss Loretta, are you gonna be OK?”
“Yessum, baby girl,” she lied. “Your momma is gonna be just fine.”
Pearl tagged along with Donita and me on Sunday nights as we caroled with the church choir. Dressed like Charles Dickens’ characters, we strolled through Chatham Square, serenading tourists and locals alike.
Constance White and her high school beau, Derek, were crowned Christmas Royalty at the Chatham County Christmas Festival. She was lovely, standing on the stage with her golden hair intricately piled on her head like one of Donita’s meringue cakes.
In Colombia Square near the Wormsloe Fountain, Constance permitted Pearl, Tallulah, and me to take turns wearing her bejeweled tiara. I draped her royal red velvet cape over my shoulders and walked in a straight line, attempting to balance the glittering crown on my head. The other girls cheered me on. When it was Tallulah’s turn to wear the tiara, she waved her tiny hand from side to side, like she was riding atop a flowered float in the New Year parade.
Anxious for the return of her shimmering crown to its rightful noggin, Constance snatched it off Pearl’s head. “OK, that’s quite enough!” She snapped. “As the reigning Chatham County Christmas Queen, I mustn’t let the tiara venture too far from my rightful royal head.”
Mr. Turnball’s ice cream truck continued to make a pass down our street but only once a week. With plastic reindeer riding on his chrome bumper, he offered up hot chocolate in Styrofoam cups and freshly baked Christmas cookies from his open window. Daryl wore a fuzzy elf’s hat and a red rubber ball pinched to his nose as he greeted us.
Sookie remarked, “You look like a gawd-damned fool, Turnball. As if this damned holiday ain’t gay enough, now you’re trotting up Digby in leotards and a hat like one of Santa’s queerest helpers!”
Aunt Sookie & Me Page 21
