The Saints of Swallow Hill(89)

Cornelia said, “Ain’t no end to the entertaining things one might see right before dark.”

Rae Lynn and Del murmured in agreement. Del drove about another half hour before stopping. No one said much, they were all too tired, and eager to get out and stretch their legs. Del got the watermelon and used his pocketknife to cut it up. They dug into the red flesh and declared it was the sweetest, juiciest they’d ever had. They ate the whole thing between the three of them, enjoying it enough to let pink juice run off their chins. Rae Lynn felt carefree for the first time in months.

When they were done, he said, “Whyn’t y’all sleep in the back, and I’ll stretch out here in front?”

Rae Lynn was exhausted and had no argument against what he suggested.

“That’s fine by me.”

He said, “Mind if I play a little song or two on Melody here? ”

He held up the harmonica.

Both women said no at the same time.

Rae Lynn said, “I used to listen when we was neighbors, so to speak, at Swallow Hill. You call your mouth harp Melody? ”

“Yeah, kind a dumb, I reckon. I hope I didn’t bother you none.”

Rae Lynn said, “Not at all. I always enjoyed it.”

They climbed into the truck bed and propped their heads on the bundles with their meager possessions. Rae Lynn moved around once to get into a more comfortable position and saw Del had pulled off his boots, had his feet stuck out the passenger window and his head against the driver’s side door as he played. She laid back down and looked toward the heavens. It was a perfect summer night, warm with a slight breeze, and above them, a black canvas, where stars winked and pirouetted. In between the notes coming from the harmonica, she heard the howling of coyotes and a screech owl, until she heard and saw no more.

At dawn, the truck rocked a little, and Rae Lynn lifted herself onto her elbows. Del was at the front, where he bent down to check the radiator. She watched him surreptitiously, wondered why he wasn’t married and what his life had been like. He straightened up and walked into the woods. Rae Lynn eased out of the back of the truck, not wanting to disturb Cornelia, who slept on, emitting soft little snores. After a couple minutes, he was back. She stood on the passenger side of the truck waiting until he saw her.

He looked a bit startled, then said, “Mornin’. What I wouldn’t give for a cup a coffee.”

She smiled and said, “Mornin’. Me too.”

Their voices woke Cornelia.

She sat up. “Oh, gosh, is it morning already?”

Rae Lynn thought how different Cornelia was, now she wasn’t with Otis. She was so relaxed, smiled a lot more, seemed fun-loving.

She flopped back down and said, “I could sleep forever.”

Rae Lynn went into the woods to relieve herself. When she returned, Cornelia wobbled that way, still half asleep.

Once everyone was done, Cornelia announced, “I’m staying in the back.”

They pulled out onto the road, and an odd feeling came over Rae Lynn. The last time she’d rode in this spot, Warren had been driving them somewhere. Feeling nostalgic, she pretended it was Warren, and that the past months hadn’t happened. If Del thought her behavior standoffish, so be it. She couldn’t help how she felt, although he was just as quiet, as if he too were preoccupied. He stopped at a store advertising, WE SERVE HOT HAM BISCUITS! He bought for all three of them, and the owner somehow had real coffee too, served in paper cups. They stopped for gas around dinnertime in Dillon, South Carolina. Under a small tent beside the station, a man was boiling peanuts in a kettle pot hung over a fire under a big oak tree. They got bags of these along with cold Pepsis. They leaned against the truck where it was parked in the shade of the building and began eating. Side by side, with Rae Lynn in the middle, they talked quiet, mostly about the subtle changes to the landscape since they’d left Georgia. The level grassy savannas had turned a bit hillier as they traveled farther north and east, but the air held the same sticky feeling. A slight breeze came every so often and made the small, multicolored flags the owner placed around the station flutter in the breeze.

Rae Lynn watched Del take a peanut, put the whole thing in his mouth, suck the juice from the shell, then hold it longways and use his front teeth to pop it open. He tossed the soft beans in his mouth, took a swig of Pepsi, and did it again. She was mesmerized because Warren used to eat boiled peanuts the same exact way.

Cornelia was careful to check that no one was around before taking the hat off her head and rubbing her hand over the stubs of hair left on her scalp.

“I could get used to this. You men are lucky. This is much cooler, and easier than long hair.”

Rae Lynn said, “Sure is. Makes me want to cut mine again, only shorter. Like yours.”

Del was quick with his reaction. He said, “No, don’t.”

Rae Lynn couldn’t imagine feeling any hotter, but the way he looked at her right then was like the time she’d caught a fever, like she was baking from the inside out. She glanced down at her bag of peanuts. He fumbled for the right words and finally assembled a coherent sentence.

“I mean, I kind a like how it is now. Growing out and all.”

She felt Cornelia’s elbow nudge her in the ribs. She nudged back, harder. It didn’t matter what he liked. Any talk of longer hair brought to mind cutting hers off and how she’d scattered the strands over Warren’s grave. The boiled peanuts lost their appeal as Rae Lynn was once again thrown backward, thinking how only a few months before, her daily routine had been pondering what she might fix for supper, washing clothes, tending the garden, and any one of the other many things that consumed her and Warren’s days. She would cut her hair again if she wanted, no matter what Del Reese liked. They finished the peanuts and drinks, wadded up the bags, and threw them in a barrel intended for trash.