The Dry Grass of August(57)

“Jubie’s upset about Mary. I was just trying to calm her down.”

She was just listening to me cry.

“C’mere, Junebug,” Daddy said. I fell into the dusty tobacco smell of him. He held me close, rubbed my back.

Mama kissed my cheek, her cigarette breath enveloping me. “I’ll go back in, then.”

I cried into Daddy’s chest until the horrible ache inside me was numb.When I got quiet, he said, “C’mon, Jujube, I’ll walk you home.” At the cabin, he said, “The police’ll catch those guys and bring Mary back. Don’t you worry.”

“Daddy, that man at the front desk said there wasn’t any use looking for her at night because she’d be so hard to see.”

“He’s not in charge, honey. Sheriff Higgins is heading the search, a good man.”

“The men who took her have to kill her. She knows what they look like.”

“They probably think kidnapping a darkie isn’t much of a crime. Might as well let her go.”

In the cabin, I folded back the spread on Mary’s cot and fluffed the pillow so her bed would be waiting for her when she came in. I stood, touching her pillow, then wiggled in under the top sheet. If she got back before morning, she’d have to wake me. Knowing that, I fell asleep.

That night Mary spoke to me. If I was awake or asleep, it happened, and it wasn’t a dream. She said, “Jubie, you’re a fine girl, and I’m a fine girl, too.”





I woke to whispers and giggles. Puddin, Stell Ann, and Davie were all in bed together, Davie under the sheets and Stell and Puddin poking at him, playing with him. Acting normal. I sat up. “Mary?” I asked.

The cabin got quiet. Stell shook her head.

“Nothing at all?”

“Nothing.” I saw the strain on her face. She was just keeping up a good front for Puddin and Davie.

I got dressed and took Davie to Mama’s cabin. She was sitting on the bed in her nightgown, sipping from a mug, letting her toenails dry. Pieces of cotton stuck out between each toe. The room was filled with sunshine, the smell of coffee, nail polish, cigarettes. I dumped Davie on the bed next to Mama, and she pulled him to her, cooing, “Hey, Davie-do, how’s my boy this morning?”

He patted her face. “Mary?”

Mama looked at me, tears in her eyes.

“Wouldn’t they have found her by now, if they were going to?”

“I don’t know, Jubie. I just don’t know. But it doesn’t look good.”

I felt empty and hard inside. “Where’s Daddy?”

“Gone to talk to the sheriff and see about the Packard.”

There was a knock at the door. “See who that is, honey.”

“It’s just me, Mrs. Watts, come to find out what happened to your girl.” Mrs. Bishop pushed open the screen door. Her finger waves looked painted on. She reached for the ladder-back chair by the door.

Mama said, “Please have a seat.”

“Thank you.” Mrs. Bishop sat, crossing her legs. She swung her foot and dangled her wedgy until it was barely hooked on her toe. “I was afraid your girls might have trouble.”

“What do you mean?”

“Going off to that colored revival. Anybody knows they shouldn’t have done that.”

Mama sat up straight.

“Them being teenagers and walking after dark with a nigger.”

“We do not use that word.”

“You one of those integrators? I wouldn’t have thought you’d be political, being such a lady.”

Mama stood, stern and dignified, even in her nightgown with cotton between her toes. “I am not political, but I don’t use foul language.”

Davie began to cry.

“Mrs. Watts, please, I didn’t mean to offend.”

I picked up Davie.

Mama opened the door. “As soon as our car is fixed, we’ll be on our way.”

Mrs. Bishop went out, closing the screen carefully.

I couldn’t believe what I’d heard. “We’re leaving?”

“When the car—”

“Without Mary?” I wanted to hit her.

She took my hand and patted the bed. “Sit with me a minute.” We sat. I shifted Davie to my lap and bounced him with my leg.

Mama said, “Bill’s urging the sheriff to do everything possible. The car isn’t as bad as we thought, and it might be ready Monday.” Davie began to fuss and I moved my leg faster and faster.

“If Mary hasn’t turned up by then—” Mama said, “I’m sure she will, but if she doesn’t . . .”

“We’ll leave?” I choked back tears.

“We can’t stay indefinitely, honey. We’re doing everything we can, but sooner or later—”

Davie screamed.

“Check his diaper,” Mama said. “I’ve got to shower.” She stood and took her robe from the back of a chair.

“Mama!”

“What?” She sounded exasperated.

I rubbed Davie’s back. “We can’t leave without knowing. . . .” Davie howled in my ear.

Mama tested one of her toenails, then pulled the cotton out. She went into the bathroom and closed the door.The shower came on.