tomorrow.” Alice walked back into the kitchen with a much cleaner and happier baby in her arms. Mama Betts had also supplied her with a fresh bottle of evaporated milk, water and a little sugar. The baby was sucking and gurgling with contentment.
“Are we still on for swimming?” I made it sound like we’d talked it over.
Alice looked at me as if I’d turned into a toad. She knew we weren’t going to walk all the way to the end of Kali Oka again. And we didn’t have our bikes.
“Swimming?”
“At eleven. The picnic, remember?”
“Oh, yeah, the picnic.”
Effie watched us, but she didn’t say anything for a moment. “Maybe Mama Betts will pack a lunch for you.” She turned and left the room.
“She doesn’t believe us,” Alice hissed. She clamped my shoulder with her hand. “She knows we’re lying.”
“She thinks it’s the horses.” I knew she did. She thought I’d spent part of the day at the old McInnis place. I knew the look of disappointment on her face at the idea that I hadn’t told her the truth.
“What are we going to do?”
“Give those boys a chance to redeem their shirts.” I could imagine how the scene would go. It would be sweet revenge to make those boys say uncle. We’d have our bicycles back in a flash, and then I’d tell them where to find their shirts.
“Be sure you leave Picket at home. They might try to hurt her.”
Of all the disturbing things I’d ever thought, it had never crossed my mind that someone would hurt Picket to get at me, until today. It had already happened. Alice was right.
“Meet me in the woods at ten. That should give us a chance to walk a ways down the road and find a good picnic spot.”
“And those boys will find us, right?”
“If they’re smart they will.” And if they weren’t, then I’d have to bring Arly into my confidence. Arly, sitting at the drugstore counter. Effie must have given him money to spend, too, ‘cause he’d already gone through his allowance and tried to borrow some from me.
“See you at ten.” Alice let the screen door slam behind her as she took off for home, humming a little song to the baby in her arms.
After Alice left I went to Emily’s for the potatoes and okra. There would probably be peas and corn too. She had a daughter my age, Jamey Louise, who hated picking vegetables. Emily always sent her out in the field to help me, but all she ever did was dig her bare toes into the hot dirt and complain.
Emily and Gustav, her husband, and their three daughters, Jamey Louise being the youngest, lived about a mile down from us on the right side of the road. Gustav, better known as Big Gus, worked as a carpenter at a factory, and he farmed forty acres on the side. Emily, who was nearly six feet tall and had the biggest chest in all of Chickasaw County, put up a lot of vegetables and was always real generous to share with us. We in turn gave her lots of fruit and preserves and pecans from our trees. Daddy didn’t farm, but Mama Betts had a way with fruit and nut trees and berries. When nobody else in the county had pecans, we did. Big old Stuarts and those long papershells with hulls so thin anybody could crack them.
There was talk that Libby Ruth, the oldest girl, gave Emily a lot of trouble. Libby liked nice things. She liked boys and fast cars, and she liked to laugh. She was homecoming queen last year, and she looked more beautiful than any other girl in school even though she was taller than a lot of the boys. She was always real nice to me, even when a lot of the high school kids were around. She drove the tractor in the field in her two-piece swimsuit and had the best suntan of anyone near Jexville. I thought she should be on television, and I told her so, which made Jamey Louise squinch up her face and pinch me. She said I shouldn’t encourage Libby in that kind of thinking because all she ever did was read magazines and listen to the radio as it was.
Walking over to Emily’s, I hoped Libby would
“Are we still on for swimming?” I made it sound like we’d talked it over.
Alice looked at me as if I’d turned into a toad. She knew we weren’t going to walk all the way to the end of Kali Oka again. And we didn’t have our bikes.
“Swimming?”
“At eleven. The picnic, remember?”
“Oh, yeah, the picnic.”
Effie watched us, but she didn’t say anything for a moment. “Maybe Mama Betts will pack a lunch for you.” She turned and left the room.
“She doesn’t believe us,” Alice hissed. She clamped my shoulder with her hand. “She knows we’re lying.”
“She thinks it’s the horses.” I knew she did. She thought I’d spent part of the day at the old McInnis place. I knew the look of disappointment on her face at the idea that I hadn’t told her the truth.
“What are we going to do?”
“Give those boys a chance to redeem their shirts.” I could imagine how the scene would go. It would be sweet revenge to make those boys say uncle. We’d have our bicycles back in a flash, and then I’d tell them where to find their shirts.
“Be sure you leave Picket at home. They might try to hurt her.”
Of all the disturbing things I’d ever thought, it had never crossed my mind that someone would hurt Picket to get at me, until today. It had already happened. Alice was right.
“Meet me in the woods at ten. That should give us a chance to walk a ways down the road and find a good picnic spot.”
“And those boys will find us, right?”
“If they’re smart they will.” And if they weren’t, then I’d have to bring Arly into my confidence. Arly, sitting at the drugstore counter. Effie must have given him money to spend, too, ‘cause he’d already gone through his allowance and tried to borrow some from me.
“See you at ten.” Alice let the screen door slam behind her as she took off for home, humming a little song to the baby in her arms.
After Alice left I went to Emily’s for the potatoes and okra. There would probably be peas and corn too. She had a daughter my age, Jamey Louise, who hated picking vegetables. Emily always sent her out in the field to help me, but all she ever did was dig her bare toes into the hot dirt and complain.
Emily and Gustav, her husband, and their three daughters, Jamey Louise being the youngest, lived about a mile down from us on the right side of the road. Gustav, better known as Big Gus, worked as a carpenter at a factory, and he farmed forty acres on the side. Emily, who was nearly six feet tall and had the biggest chest in all of Chickasaw County, put up a lot of vegetables and was always real generous to share with us. We in turn gave her lots of fruit and preserves and pecans from our trees. Daddy didn’t farm, but Mama Betts had a way with fruit and nut trees and berries. When nobody else in the county had pecans, we did. Big old Stuarts and those long papershells with hulls so thin anybody could crack them.
There was talk that Libby Ruth, the oldest girl, gave Emily a lot of trouble. Libby liked nice things. She liked boys and fast cars, and she liked to laugh. She was homecoming queen last year, and she looked more beautiful than any other girl in school even though she was taller than a lot of the boys. She was always real nice to me, even when a lot of the high school kids were around. She drove the tractor in the field in her two-piece swimsuit and had the best suntan of anyone near Jexville. I thought she should be on television, and I told her so, which made Jamey Louise squinch up her face and pinch me. She said I shouldn’t encourage Libby in that kind of thinking because all she ever did was read magazines and listen to the radio as it was.
Walking over to Emily’s, I hoped Libby would
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