Pew(10)

Aren’t you just a doll? Aren’t you though? Isn’t this one just the sweetest, have you ever met a sweeter doll than this one? Have you?
No one answered her. The woman clutched me for a moment—My name’s Kim, but everyone calls me Kitty, so you can go ahead and call me Kitty—then waved her hands around, conducting us down a wide hallway.
Everyone’s in the den having cheese and crackers and I hope you’re hungry because I told our girl we were having special company and she just about pulled out all the stops. I went back there to check on her this afternoon and she was making things I hadn’t even imagined about! And listen, y’all, if you need the restroom, it is just down this hallway here, down there and over to the right—of course I’d give you the full tour but it would just about take all night, and anyway I don’t think any of the kids made their beds and I guess they hardly ever do so I don’t know why I ask! Why do I even ask!
She stopped and picked up a bowl of white flowers from their spot on a marble pedestal.
Holly Henry did all these florals and didn’t she do so good? She is so gifted. I have her come out here for all the holidays and the Forgiveness Festival, parties, things like that—and isn’t this one nice here? I don’t even know where she gets magnolia this time of year, she must be flying it in from somewhere. China? Imagine that, flying in magnolias from China! But they do smell nice, don’t they? I do wish the magnolias bloomed around the festival—wouldn’t that be nice? Have a good smell of them, go on—
Kitty kept speaking as we walked down the hall, but I didn’t understand what she said. I felt the ceiling was too high above us, so high it might not have been there if I tilted my head up to look, so I did not look. We all walked deeper into the house.
At the end of the hall was a room full of leather sofas and chairs, all of them pointed at a massive television on one wall, an altar. Several people were in the chairs and sofas, all of whom looked like variations of Kitty—pale hair, skin gleaming as if damp, clothing spotless and pressed—all in blues and greens and whites, coordinated like an army. They stared through the television. A person in a sparkling dress was singing into a microphone in one hand. Something cloying and pungent hung in the air—not flowers, something else, something closer to the smell of a baby’s head.
OK, company’s here, y’all turn that thing off, will you? There’s some lemonade here and Cokes if you want them. I can’t handle the caffeine this late, myself, but it’s there if you want it. And fix yourself a little plate here, too, but don’t spoil your supper because like I said our girl has been cooking near all the ever-living day, excuse my language.
No one moved. None of us and none of them.
OK, y’all, really, turn that thing off now, Kitty shouted while smiling at the people who looked like her. A large man reclining in a chair watching the television, chewing a cigar butt, aimed a remote at the screen, making the singer vanish into gray.
Does everybody remember everybody? Well, y’all know Butch, of course. The man with the cigar put up a hand almost like a salute, a gesture that Steven returned. And these are my daughters, Annie, Rachel, and Jill, and my sons, Ronnie and Butch junior, the woman said, speeding through the names as if it was something between a prayer and a chore. The daughters and sons were all dazed, distant. And where is Nelson?
He’s still upstairs, one of the daughters said without looking up from the screen in her hands. She was the smallest in the room but she looked the most identical to the woman. She and Kitty were wearing the same dress and sweater and necklace. Both of them had hay-colored hair sculpted into stillness.
Nelson! the woman shouted up a stairwell. Company’s here, Nelson, come on down!
And, little darlin’, the woman said, remind me of your name again, will you?
Pew, Hilda said. It’s just a nickname. For now.
Pew! You mean pew like a church pew?
Yes, Hilda said. It’s temporary. It’s just—
Isn’t that something! Hilda, can I get you a glass of white wine? I’ve got a pinot grigio open and Butch can fix Steven up with a glass of Scotch, how about that? But don’t you go telling Joe or Mary-Lee that you had any fun over here because we always hide the liquor when they come over—ha ha!
Just what the hell is wrong with those people? Butch said to Steven.
Butch! Kitty turned to him with a face suddenly still and hard. What did I tell you? And just as quickly her face softened and loosened and laughed. Well! Well, let me see about that pinot!
I went back down the hall to where the bathroom was, passing a room full of trophies in glass cases, a room lined with wine bottles, a bedroom that looked as if no one had ever slept in it, and a room that was just empty, just a big empty room. Eventually I found the bathroom, larger than a large car, all marble and chrome, everything perfectly clean. I washed my hands for a long time, and when I came back out to the hallway, a short woman in a white uniform was there, waiting. She took my arm and whispered, Habla espa?ol?
I just looked at her and did nothing and she nodded as if something obvious had flown between us and we both knew exactly what it meant.
Sea lo que sea, pase lo que pase, puedes contarme. Recuerda eso.
She started back down the hall, stopping a few steps away to turn to me again—Recuerda eso. I looked at her. She looked at me. She vanished around a corner.
When I returned to the main room, Kitty shouted, Now there we are!—and took me by the elbow toward someone who didn’t look like the rest of them. He was wearing a baseball cap and blue jeans and a loose white shirt. In the shadow of his cap, I could see a thick scar that ran from his temple to his neck.