“There are some cute boys down at that church, but Libby says they’re a waste of time.”
Shovel tip in the ground, I stopped and looked at her. This was a new gambit from Jamey Louise. What was she driving at?
“Libby said the boys from the church don’t have cars or money. She said even if they are cute, they’re a waste. Do you think they’re a waste?”
“I suspect Libby knows more about boys than I do.” Jamey Louise had rocks in her head if she was interested in boys who would beat on a helpless dog and steal bicycles, but those weren’t facts I felt free to divulge to her.
“There’s this one boy, tall with dark hair. I saw him this afternoon riding by—”
“On a bicycle?” I dropped five potatoes in the bucket and determined that I had enough for me and the Welfords for supper. I could move on to the okra.
“Yeah. It was a girl’s bike, though.”
“A white Schwinn?” That bicycle was my pride. The idea that those boys might leave it out in the weather tormented me. I’d had it for a year and there wasn’t even a dent on it.
“Yeah, a white bicycle.”
“With a deep front basket?”
“No,” Jamey Louise smiled. “There wasn’t a basket. If that bike had had a basket, it would have looked just like yours.”
“Are you sure?” My palms felt hot and sweaty, and a stinging sensation started on the top of my scalp. Either I was going to faint or I had been gripped by a fury so powerful that I’d never experienced it before. Had they dared to take my basket off?
“I’m sure. You think I don’t know a basket on a bike?”
“What time?”
“About half an hour ago.”
So that explained the bonnet, the lipstick and the dress. Jamey Louise was sick, sick, sick, dressing to catch the eye of one of those Redeemer boys. She obviously didn’t think it was a waste of time no matter what Libby said. “Did he say anything?”
“He asked me if I knew a girl with pigtails and another one with blond hair and freckles. He said they had a baby. Sounds an awful lot like you and Alice and her kid sister.” Jamey’s eyes were small and brown. Hidden under the shade of her hat they had a distinctly pig-like quality.
I wanted to tell her that he’d stolen my bike and hit my dog with a stick, but the horrendousness of those acts would wash over Jamey like a cloud across the sun. Besides, she’d twist it up and gossip it all over the road. Before I knew what hit me, it would be everywhere that I was consorting with the Redeemers down in the woods. Mama Betts would have my hide.
“He must have seen us when the buses went by. All those folks looked spooky to me, like zombies all going down the road in a bus to hell.”
“I’m telling on you for cussing.”
“Be my guest.” I looked up at her. “Shithead.” That did the trick. She tore out of the field as if I’d thrown roaches on her feet. Emily wouldn’t believe I’d called Jamey a shithead. Emily thought I was the most courteous child she’d ever met.
I put the shovel back in Gus’s shed and found a sharp garden knife he kept on hand for cutting vegetables. There was a store of paper sacks out there, too, and I got a big one. I’d cut it full and then take the okra and potatoes up to the house to divide with the Welfords. Mama insisted that whenever I picked vegetables, I was always to pick enough for us and for them too. The pleasure of the afternoon waslost, though. I couldn’t shake the image of my bicycle stripped of the basket and God knew what else. I felt more helpless than I’d ever felt in my life. Totally hamstrung. It was at that moment that my decision to go back to the McInnis place crystallized. If I hurried with the okra I’d have time to hurry down there and back before anyone missed me.
Seven
T HE
green Chevy and rusted old trailer were parked at the end of the driveway, just inside the gate. It didn’t look like much of a rig, but I could imagine that it had been all over the world. I’d read
Shovel tip in the ground, I stopped and looked at her. This was a new gambit from Jamey Louise. What was she driving at?
“Libby said the boys from the church don’t have cars or money. She said even if they are cute, they’re a waste. Do you think they’re a waste?”
“I suspect Libby knows more about boys than I do.” Jamey Louise had rocks in her head if she was interested in boys who would beat on a helpless dog and steal bicycles, but those weren’t facts I felt free to divulge to her.
“There’s this one boy, tall with dark hair. I saw him this afternoon riding by—”
“On a bicycle?” I dropped five potatoes in the bucket and determined that I had enough for me and the Welfords for supper. I could move on to the okra.
“Yeah. It was a girl’s bike, though.”
“A white Schwinn?” That bicycle was my pride. The idea that those boys might leave it out in the weather tormented me. I’d had it for a year and there wasn’t even a dent on it.
“Yeah, a white bicycle.”
“With a deep front basket?”
“No,” Jamey Louise smiled. “There wasn’t a basket. If that bike had had a basket, it would have looked just like yours.”
“Are you sure?” My palms felt hot and sweaty, and a stinging sensation started on the top of my scalp. Either I was going to faint or I had been gripped by a fury so powerful that I’d never experienced it before. Had they dared to take my basket off?
“I’m sure. You think I don’t know a basket on a bike?”
“What time?”
“About half an hour ago.”
So that explained the bonnet, the lipstick and the dress. Jamey Louise was sick, sick, sick, dressing to catch the eye of one of those Redeemer boys. She obviously didn’t think it was a waste of time no matter what Libby said. “Did he say anything?”
“He asked me if I knew a girl with pigtails and another one with blond hair and freckles. He said they had a baby. Sounds an awful lot like you and Alice and her kid sister.” Jamey’s eyes were small and brown. Hidden under the shade of her hat they had a distinctly pig-like quality.
I wanted to tell her that he’d stolen my bike and hit my dog with a stick, but the horrendousness of those acts would wash over Jamey like a cloud across the sun. Besides, she’d twist it up and gossip it all over the road. Before I knew what hit me, it would be everywhere that I was consorting with the Redeemers down in the woods. Mama Betts would have my hide.
“He must have seen us when the buses went by. All those folks looked spooky to me, like zombies all going down the road in a bus to hell.”
“I’m telling on you for cussing.”
“Be my guest.” I looked up at her. “Shithead.” That did the trick. She tore out of the field as if I’d thrown roaches on her feet. Emily wouldn’t believe I’d called Jamey a shithead. Emily thought I was the most courteous child she’d ever met.
I put the shovel back in Gus’s shed and found a sharp garden knife he kept on hand for cutting vegetables. There was a store of paper sacks out there, too, and I got a big one. I’d cut it full and then take the okra and potatoes up to the house to divide with the Welfords. Mama insisted that whenever I picked vegetables, I was always to pick enough for us and for them too. The pleasure of the afternoon waslost, though. I couldn’t shake the image of my bicycle stripped of the basket and God knew what else. I felt more helpless than I’d ever felt in my life. Totally hamstrung. It was at that moment that my decision to go back to the McInnis place crystallized. If I hurried with the okra I’d have time to hurry down there and back before anyone missed me.
Seven
T HE
green Chevy and rusted old trailer were parked at the end of the driveway, just inside the gate. It didn’t look like much of a rig, but I could imagine that it had been all over the world. I’d read
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