The Dry Grass of August(50)

“Let it go, Paula, my love. I’ve missed you.”

Mama sighed. “Me, too, Bill.”

The grit on the floor was sandpaper on my shoulder.

“C’mon, sweetheart.” Daddy’s voice was soft.

“What if the kids come looking for us?”

I made myself lie so still I felt my breathing stop.

“Let’s lock them out.” A click. “Come here, Paula.” Daddy sat down and the bed sank to within inches of my face. My right arm was folded under me, the comic in my hand. The floor felt like a hot iron on my elbow. I held my hand over my nose to keep the dust out. “I’ll never get enough of you,” Daddy said.

They were quiet, then something fell beside the bed. Daddy’s shirt. Mama’s sandals landed near my face, her sundress slid to the floor. Daddy said, “Sit up, let me do it.” His shoes dropped off the end of the bed, followed by Mama’s bra and panties.

I decided I would kill myself if they found me. It got so quiet I was afraid to breathe. The mattress sank over me, almost touching my face. Mama started making sounds, not words. Daddy growled. The metal bed springs moved up and down, up and down, touching my cheek, then rising again. I pushed one ear against the floor, put my finger in the other one to shut out the sounds. Some of Mama’s noises got through. The dust made me want to sneeze and I pinched my nose until tears filled my eyes. One of the hooks holding the bed springs stretched away from the frame. I stared at it, certain it would give way and the mattress would fall on me. I watched it hard, making it not slip any more. Just when I was sure it was going to fail, Daddy shouted something so loud I jumped, certain he’d seen me.

Mama moaned. “Bill, oh, God, Bill.”

The mattress moved, grew still. They panted like they’d been running. Mama sighed and they got quiet. I waited and waited, listening until their breathing slowed. My right leg cramped.Were they asleep? They had to be—then Mama’s feet touched the floor beside my head. She walked into the bathroom and closed the door. In the stillness that followed, Daddy’s regular breaths turned into snores. Sounds came from the bathroom, water running, the toilet flushing, the echoing gargling noise of Mama brushing her teeth. I pictured her holding the bridge with her false tooth in it. The bathroom door opened and Mama padded barefoot to pick up her bra and panties. She slid into her sandals. Her clothes rustled. I heard the snapping of her hair as she brushed it, the soft pop of her lipstick tube, the click of the bolt lock. She opened the front door. Daddy mumbled, “Zat?”

“Sleep well, honey.” Mama’s Zippo clinked.

Daddy began to snore again. I wriggled out from under the bed and onto my back. Daddy’s foot hung over my face, his big toe almost touching my nose. I slid away and got to my feet, tiptoed away from the bed. Daddy turned onto his back. His thing lay across the bushy hair at the bottom of his belly.

I opened the screen door slowly, but the rusty springs creaked. I had one foot on the front stoop, my back to the room, when his snoring stopped. A fly buzzed near my ear. Daddy coughed. “Jubie?”

“Sir?” My voice cracked.

I heard him moving in the bed. “What are you doing?”

“I just wanted—”

“What?”

“My Wonder Woman. Davie had it and I wanted to take it to the pool, so I came—”

“Look at me.”

I couldn’t turn around to his nakedness. I held out the comic book.

“June!” His voice was stern. I turned. He had covered himself. The fly landed on my shoulder and I let it sit there, tickling me.

“Tell your mother I’m going to nap for a while.”

“Yes, sir.” The screen door clattered behind me. I ran into the yard and down toward the pool.

I slowed to a walk on the path through the pines, sick with relief. I had a stitch in my side and I rubbed it with my balled-up fist, choking to keep from crying.

At the pool I peeled the comic book off my sweaty hand, hurled it to the pavement, and dove into the deep end, barely missing Stell, who was hanging on the side. I went all the way to the bottom and hooked my fingers through the drain to hold me down in the cold, clear water.





CHAPTER 20

Daddy said he’d heard that Georgia barbecue, like fruitcakes, shouldn’t be missed. I added it to my list of favorite foods, along with onion rings and pecan pie.

Mama took a bite, closed her eyes, breathed deeply. “Delicious.” She’d said, “Bill, oh, God, Bill,” in that same tone of voice. I had to look away.

“Have you talked with Carter?” Mama asked Stell.

“Yes. He and his family are going on to Pawleys today.”

“And the people we rented from, will he tell them about our delay?”

Stell nodded. “He’ll get the key and directions to our place. I told him I’d call when we leave Claxton, maybe Monday. He’ll wait for us at the pier, no matter how late.”

“That is just so nice of him,” said Mama.

Stell said, “He’s a nice boy.” She ate a hush puppy. “There’s a tent meeting tonight.”

Daddy said, “So?”

Stell said, “As you know, I have a great interest in religion.”

Oh, brother, I thought.

Daddy rolled his eyes.