Eventide (Plainsong #2)(86)

All right.

Don’t you want to?

I said all right.

What do you think of my face?

Your face?

My scar.

It looks okay. I don’t know.

Do you think this makeup helps it not show as much?

It looks okay to me. I didn’t mind it before.

Everybody keeps looking at me. I hate it.

The hell with them, he said. Never mind those other kids. They don’t know anything.

Dena stared at him and touched his hand, and he kept looking at her, then she drew her hand back and he turned away.

Do you want any more of these crackers here? he said.

Do you?

Yes.

Then I do too.



THEN IN THE AFTERNOON THE TRUCK WAS LOADED AND the big overhead door was pulled down at the back. They came out of the house and Mary Wells locked up for the last time. DJ was standing at the curb waiting and she came out to the street and suddenly took him in her arms. Oh, we’re going to miss you, DJ, she said. We’re going to miss you so much. You take care of yourself now. She released him and looked in his face. Will you do that?

Yes ma’am.

I mean it. You have to take care of yourself.

I will.

All right. We need to go. She went around and climbed into the cab. The two girls stood facing him and Emma was already crying. She hugged him quickly around the waist and ran and climbed up into the truck and buried her face in her mother’s lap.

I’ll write you, Dena said. Don’t forget.

I won’t.

She stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek, then stood back and looked at him, and he stood watching her, his hands in his pockets, looking forlorn and desolate already, and then she turned and got into the truck. The truck started up and she sat at the window, lifting her hand, waving slightly, whispering good-bye to him, and he stood on the curb until they had pulled away and had turned the corner and disappeared.

After they were gone he went up on the porch and looked through the front window. All empty inside, it looked strange to him now. He walked around behind into the alley past the widows’ houses and the vacant lot and his grandfather’s house.



THE LITTLE WOODEN SHED WAS DIM AND FILLED WITH shadows. He lit one of the candles and sat down at the table, looking around at the dark back wall and the shelf. The candlelight was flickering and dancing on the walls. There was little to see. The framed picture of the baby Jesus hanging on the wall. Some of their board games. Old plates and pieces of silverware in a box. It didn’t feel good in the shed without her. Nothing there was the same. He whistled through his teeth, softly, a tune he thought of. Then he stopped. He stood and blew out the candle and went outside and fastened the latch. He stood looking for a long time at the old abandoned house across the backyard grown up in weeds, the old black Desoto rusting among the bushes. Then he entered the alley once more. Night was falling. He’d have to go home and make supper. His grandfather would be waiting. It was already past the hour at which his grandfather wanted his supper.





45


ON A WARM WINDLESS AFTERNOON ROSE TYLER STOPPED at the trailer on Detroit Street and honked and waited, and after a while Luther and Betty Wallace stepped out onto the porch. Luther lifted his hand to shade his eyes, then he removed a washrag from the pocket of his sweatpants and dabbed at his eyes, and afterward put the rag away and took Betty by the arm and led her down the porch steps out along the dirt path to the car at the edge of the weeds. They got in and Rose drove them across town. Everything’s going to be all right, she said. Try not to worry.

The woman was wearing an apron when she let them in. Hello, Rose said. We’re here.

Come in, the woman said.

This is Mr. and Mrs. Wallace.

I’ve been expecting you. How do you do.

How do you do, ma’am, Luther said. He shook her hand. Betty shook hands, but said nothing.

Please come in. I’ll go get Joy Rae and Richie.

The Wallaces entered her house as if they were entering some formal place where circumspection was the custom. They sat together on the couch. She got a nice house here, don’t she, Luther said. Real nice.

Rose sat down across from them, and presently the woman brought their children out from the back room. They stood beside her and glanced once shyly at their parents, then looked away. Their clothes appeared to have been freshly washed and ironed, and Joy Rae’s bangs were trimmed in a straight line across her forehead.

You can sit there with your mother and father, the woman said. She gave them a little push.

The children sat down on the couch next to Betty. They didn’t say anything. They seemed to be much embarrassed by the occasion. Betty took Joy Rae’s hand and pulled her close and kissed her face and then leaned across and kissed Richie. Both children sat back and wiped at their faces and looked out into the room.

The woman excused herself to go into the kitchen, and Rose stood up. I’m going to leave you too. You’ll want to catch up a little, by yourselves, won’t you. Then she followed the woman into the kitchen.

You look so nice, honey, Betty told Joy Rae. Did you get your hair cut?

Yes.

It looks so nice. Did she cut it for you?

She cut it last week.

Well, it looks real nice on you. And how you been doing, Richie?

Okay.

What you been doing with yourself?