When I got home, my mama was putting my plate on the table. Something had
happened at our neighbor’s house, so the focus was not on me. She was in a hurry to get to Mr. and Mrs.
Gamble next door, so she didn’t even notice my bare feet. Mrs. Gamble was expecting her first baby and my mama
was one of the best midwives around. Shoot, even Luke’s daddy asked for her help in birthing his prize bull three years ago.
Daddy was listening to his favorite radio show, so he sort of whispered like he
does when the radio is on when he asked me if I was hungry. I nodded and he
smiled at me. I almost started crying then but I felt that if I started I
wouldn’t be able to stop. I knew that he wouldn’t ask me any questions about where I had been or why I was late. I wouldn’t have to say a word. My daddy never seemed to notice what time it was, except
in the mornings, when he would head out to work in the fields. He was never
late, not even once.
He had his favorite mug beside him on the floor by his rocking chair. Daddy
would be sipping his corn liquor until his show was off. Sometimes he would sit
there all night, burning a fire and sipping from his mug. I could always go and
sit with him if I wanted to; I knew that I was always welcome. I wouldn’t have to say a word to him if I didn’t want to and tonight I didn’t. I don’t know if I could have even if I had wanted to. I just wanted to go to bed, but
I had to eat or face my mama when she came home later.
Before I sat down to the table, I filled the basin with warm water from the
woodstove and scrubbed my face and hands till they glowed. Once I started I
didn’t want to stop. I scrubbed my feet and legs, and if I could have taken a bath
without raising too much suspicion, I think I would have soaked and scrubbed
all night. I felt dirty and I didn’t know why. I was scared that I would bring the smell of that old man in the
house. Scared that he might be able to track me down that way.
I was so tired that I went to sleep as soon as my head was on my pillow, and I
didn’t move until morning. I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to sleep and that I’d have nightmares about that old man, but I was so exhausted that I slept like a
rock. No wonder I forgot about the little garter snake left behind in my
overalls. Poor little thing, I can just imagine how scared he must have been
after my Mama started screaming when she stuck her hand in that pocket. I ran
to save him before his poor eardrums were ruint, but she had dropped him and he’d slithered off the back porch before I got there.
The following Sunday I looked for Sara Rose at church, but she wasn’t there. I heard her mother tell Mrs. Sutton that she wasn’t feeling well. “Did she eat a bad mushroom?” I asked. As soon as I said it, I knew that I shouldn’t have. The look on Mrs. Jamison’s face told me so. I wish that I could have taken it back.
Mrs. Jamison didn’t answer me but she turned as pale as a ghost. For a second she looked just like
Sara Rose. I looked away, trying to find an escape, but she didn’t take her eyes off me until Mr. Jamison came up and took her elbow. She
whispered something in her husband’s ear and he turned to look at me. I practically ran out the side door when his
eyes met mine, they were the saddest eyes I’d ever seen. All I could think about was the look on poor Sara Rose’s face and her torn dress.
I never told anyone about that day. I never said one word about that scary man,
about throwing the rock, or Sara Rose’s bare breasts. I thought I might tell Lucas, brag about my pitching skills at
least (it had been a beautiful curveball), but then I’d have to tell him how embarrassed Sara Rose was and it just didn’t seem like something you should talk about. Life went on as usual and I forgot
about it.
I didn’t see Sara for about three weeks after that. When I saw her that first time it
was at the grocery and she wouldn’t look at me. I didn’t know why, but I was glad. I wanted her to forget that I had seen her crying,
and that I had seen her standing practically naked in the woods. I was so
uncomfortable.
Then I heard that they had found her uncle in the woods out past Mr. Crutcher’s field. I hadn’t even known that she had an uncle. The story was that he had fallen and hit his
head on a rock. He must have died instantly, they said. No one seemed too
surprised; the stories going around town were that he was a mean old drunk who
kept to himself and lived longer than anyone expected. It didn’t seem that anyone liked him much.
I wondered if he was out in the woods the day I ran into Sara Rose, the day I
saw her with that bad man. Maybe if he were there, that wouldn’t have happened. Surely her uncle would have stopped that man before I had to
throw the rock, before she had been so humiliated. Even if he was a mean old drunk, I’m sure he wouldn’t have let that happen to Sara Rose…
The next time I saw Sara Rose, it was at church, a few weeks after her uncle
died in the woods. It was on the same Sunday that I had to stand up and recite
some prayer my mama made me memorize from 1 Chronicles 4:10. I didn’t want to do it. I was scared that I would forget the words and embarrass
myself, but all the other girls had taken their turn and now it was mine. I
told mama that if I could wear overalls, then I could write the verse down and
keep it in my pocket. That way I could practice up until the second that I had
to recite it, but she wouldn’t budge. She told me that she purposefully picked the one she did because it was
short and would be easy to remember.
I was scared that no one would like the way I sounded. Scared that I would make
a fool out of myself and have to fight John Randall the following Monday at
school. He was always trying to pick a fight with me and I was giving him the
perfect reason by standing up in church dressed like a girl in my petticoat and
black patent leather Mary Jane’s. Mama told me to just be myself, after threatening me with a switch to leave
the ribbon in my hair, and she promised me that everyone would love it.
Anyway, I looked up and there she was, Sara Rose. I had been looking at my mama,
but she was making me nervous. I could tell from all the way up at the front of
the church that mama was holding her breath when I looked up and saw Sara Rose.
We held each other’s stare as I began:
“Oh, that You would bless me indeed,
And enlarge my territory, that Your hand
Would be with me, and that You would
Keep me from evil.”
She put her hand to her chest as I spoke, and for a minute I felt like we were
the only ones in the church. She seemed to be hanging on every word. When I
finished she nodded and smiled at me. There were tears in her eyes and a look
that I didn’t quite understand. She looked like the girl I used to know but older somehow. I
was glad that she looked happy; now I could forget the Sara Rose I saw standing
in the woods.
I knew that whatever had just passed between us had closed the door on that
memory.
I nodded back and she mouthed “Thank you.”
I smiled back at her and I felt proud. Mrs. Jamison hugged her and smiled at me
over Sara Rose’s shoulder. I was glad that she was smiling too, and happy that I had something
to do with it. I noticed Sara Rose’s father dab at his eyes with his handkerchief. I took my seat beside my mama as
I felt the blood rush to my cheeks and ears. I could only imagine how red they
were. Mama squeezed my hand and I sat up a little straighter in the hard oak
pew. I don’t know why I worried so much about reciting this in front of our church. I sort
of liked all the attention.
I snuck another glance at Sara Rose. Boy, she and her mother must have really
liked the verse! They were smiling almost as big as my mama.
