The Dry Grass of August(23)

“I wanted to talk to Leesum.” Mary didn’t seem one bit afraid.

“You owe me a dollar-thirty.”

“I don’t reckon I do.”

“Watch how you talk, girl.”

“You running this here fake show. Got this boy working for you, which probably’s not legal. And I has these white children with me and they uncle is a commander out to the Navy base.”

The man’s face twisted. I tried to pull Mary back, but she didn’t need my help. The man stomped his foot and turned to Leesum. “You’re fired, boy. Weren’t that good anyway. Get the hell out of here ’fore I throw your pecker to the wild dog.” He snatched the top hat off Leesum’s head. Snaky ropes of hair sprang out in all directions. “Gimme back my costume.”

Leesum took off his yellow coat. “Can’t take off the pants, Mr. McCurdy, ain’t got nothin on under ’em.”

“Get your clothes, then. And don’t let me catch you ’round here again.”

The boy ran toward a metal trailer that looked like a tin can on wheels, his pigtails bouncing. Mary hollered after him, “We’ll wait right here, Leesum.”

Stell Ann walked up with the kids. “What’s going on?”

Mary shook her head. “That boy, he been in trouble for a year. He only fifteen and he ran off from home last spring. His mama been beside herself. They in my church.”

“What boy?” Stell Ann asked.

“The boy pulling the curtain in the freak show,” I said.

“Where is he?”

“Putting on his clothes.”

“He didn’t have any clothes on?”

“He was fired. Had to take his costume off.”

Leesum walked up, carrying a paper bag and wearing a filthy shirt and shorts, his bare feet dusty.

Stell stared at his hair.

“What you plan now, Leesum?” asked Mary.

“Get me ’nother job.”

“And how you gone do that?”

“Go into town.”

“Wouldn’t you rather go home?”

“Ain’t got money for a ticket, and Mama’d whup me till I couldn’t walk.”

“What if I bought you a bus ticket, and what if you stayed with Reverend Perkins for a while?”

Leesum looked at the ground.

“Be easier to get a job in Charlotte, where your church family is, than in Florida, don’t you reckon?”

“Yes’m.”

“Then come on out to Commander Bentley’s. I’ll see what we can do.”

“Mama is going to have a duck,” Stell said.

“Leave your mama to me.”

As we left Joyland, we passed an open tent where a clown was sitting in front of a mirror, rubbing his makeup off. He saw me in the mirror and waved. It was the clown who gave me the rose. Under the makeup, his skin was darker than Leesum’s.

We’d planned to stay at Joyland for supper, but Stell said we were leaving. “Mama’s going to be mad enough when she sees that boy. If anybody who knows Uncle Taylor saw him having hot dogs with us . . .” She walked toward the parking lot. “I’ll pick you up at the front gate.”

Mary and Leesum got in the back with me. Puddin climbed into the front seat with Stell and helped put Davie in his canvas seat. We hadn’t gone more than a couple of miles before I regretted my decision to sit so close to Leesum. He smelled like a wet dog. Mary cranked her window all the way down. I did the same thing.

“You gone get a bath, boy, soon’s we get to Commander Bentley’s,” said Mary.

“Yes’m.”

“Too bad there’s no colored beach out where we staying. I’d dip you in the ocean first. Wash off the top layer of dirt.”

“Yes’m.” He looked at me, ashamed. I wanted Mary to be easier on him.

“Hmph.” Mary grabbed at his hair. “A nappy-head boy with bobo tails.”

“Mr. McCurdy wouldn’t let me cut ’em.”

“How come?”

“At the end of the show I takes a bow and lifts my hat. My tails pops out. Folks laugh.” He stared out the window.

Mary touched his hand. “I can cut your hair nice, Leesum. Always did it for Mr. Luther and Link.”

On the way home I kept thinking about the boy at the Enchanted Castle Boat Ride, pinching off pieces of blue cotton candy and putting them in his girl’s mouth, her red lips closing on his fingertips.

At Uncle Taylor’s, I put the limp rose in a glass of water and set it on the dinner table, hoping to revive it. Stell looked dubious.

Mary took Leesum’s paper bag and dumped it on the kitchen floor by the washing machine. She pushed Leesum down the hall to the bathroom. “Hand me your clothes out the door and run that tub full of hot water.”

“Yes’m.”

She went up to her room, returned with her long chenille robe, and dropped it outside the bathroom door. “Here’s a dressing gown for you.”

After his bath, Leesum came into the kitchen wearing Mary’s robe. It was miserably small, but it covered him so he’d be decent till his clothes dried. I tried not to stare at him, but he didn’t seem to care. I had thought he was fairly dark, and was amazed how the bath had lightened him. His ropy hair looked dry, but water ran from it down his golden bronze face. His eyes were a hypnotizing pale green, his lips full, his teeth gleaming white. I was surprised that a colored boy was so good-looking.