Passing through Perfect (Wyattsville #3)(76)
I went over and told Carmella how sorry I was for causing her all that trouble. I half expected her to toss me out on my ear, but she didn’t. Instead she put her arms around me and gave me a hug that was a lot sweeter than I deserved. Her doing that made me feel more ashamed than I already was.
When I got back home I started thinking about all this mad I’ve been carrying around inside of me. No mama deserves to see her boy die, ’specially not in such an ugly way. When it happened to my Tommy, it was a whole lot easier to blame colored folks than believe my boy could have been up to no good himself.
I ain’t making excuses for myself; I’m just saying how it was.
After listening to how that poor Benjamin lost his wife, I can tell he’s hurting bad as me. Maybe worse. At least I got justice for what was done to Tommy; he didn’t even get that. In my mind that’s a bitter pill to swallow.
Seeing things in the light of day, I guess I’d be okay with him staying. Of course it’s too late for that now.
I tore up Darlene’s petition. Ripped it into tiny little pieces that couldn’t ever be pasted back together. That’s what it deserves, but it ain’t much in the way of making amends. The only other thing I can do now is hope that poor man finds a good life for him and his boy. That ain’t much either, but it’s all I got to give.
The Goodbye
Given the excitement that followed such an announcement, that morning’s breakfast lasted until almost ten-thirty. Sidney continued telling stories of Marty, and Benjamin asked question after question. Even after the last piece of bacon disappeared from the table, they continued to sit and sip coffee. Three times Carmella refilled the cups, and after all the biscuits were gone she brought out a basket of fresh-baked corn muffins.
“I was kind of rushed,” she admitted sheepishly, “so these are from a mix.”
Sidney told all he could think of to tell about Marty Hinckley, his wife, Elsie, and the small airport. When nothing else came to mind, he tugged Benjamin into the den and placed a call to Pittsburgh.
“I thought you fellows might like to talk to one another,” he said and handed the receiver to Benjamin.
Martin Hinckley’s voice was husky and jovial. When he gave out a roll of laughter, Benjamin knew it was something that came from deep down inside.
“I’m mighty glad to have this job,” Benjamin said.
Echoing Benjamin’s words, Marty replied, “Well, I’m mighty glad to have you.” From another person it might have had the sound of mockery, but Marty’s way of saying it made the words feel as comforting as a thick warm stew.
Klaussner’s Grocery Store never opened that day. It was after eleven when Paul and Sidney went down and taped a note to the front door. Klaussner’s closed for the day, it read. Sorry for any inconvenience this may cause.
They spent close to two hours in the store, but neither of them swept the floor or wiped the counters. Instead they pulled cans and boxes from the shelves and stacked them one on top of the other.
“Should I include syrup and pancake mix?” Paul asked.
Sid nodded. “Don’t forget a dozen cans of green beans, some Spam, and a box of Velveeta.”
By the time two o’clock rolled around the trunk of Sid’s car was filled with enough food to last a month, maybe more. Tucked in among the foodstuffs were several candy bars, a box of cleanser, and three bars of soap.
Jubilee, who’d cried at the thought of Isaac leaving, was allowed to skip school that day. She went with them when Carmella took Benjamin and Isaac to the Saint Vincent DePaul thrift shop.
“Pittsburgh gets cold,” Carmella said, and she’d insisted on seeing they had the proper type of clothing.
Margaret Thumper ran the shop and was a close friend of Carmella. She was happy to help. Once she heard what they were looking for, she disappeared into the back room and returned with armful after armful of jackets, coats, and sweaters. Although sorting through all those clothes took nearly three hours, Isaac came away with eight wool sweaters, three pairs of corduroy pants, two pairs of jeans, an assortment of shirts, boots, mittens, and a parka that was toasty enough to bake muffins.
Benjamin settled for a single sweater, a heavy jacket, and three long-sleeve shirts. Although he now had more than one hundred dollars, he knew the money would be needed for traveling and getting settled. When it came time to pay he pulled the bills from his pocket and asked how much.
Margaret Thumper laughed. “Nothing,” she said. “This is an exchange shop. People bring in the things they don’t need, and others come and take what they do need.”
Looking a bit bewildered, Benjamin asked, “For free?”
“Unh-huh.” Margaret nodded.
Carmella gave a sly wink and smiled.
The remainder of the afternoon was spent loading Benjamin’s truck. Although he’d arrived with a toolbox, a rocking chair, and few boxes of next to nothing, the flatbed of the truck was now packed tight with food, clothes, boxes of cookware, dishes, and towels, all things Carmella claimed she no longer needed. Once everything was in place, they anchored a heavy black tarpaulin to cover it all.
It was close to four o’clock when Benjamin and Isaac said goodbye to the Klaussners, and every eye was a bit tearful.
“Drive carefully,” Sid advised. “It’s about four hundred and fifty miles, and Marty isn’t expecting you until late Friday or sometime Saturday, so you’ve got plenty of time for stops.”