Melody (7 page)

“Oh Mommy, he's lying! He's telling you these things just so you'll stay with him.”

“What? How dare you.” She wagged her forefinger at me. “Archie is a sensitive person. He cares about us. As it turns out, he has no one either. It makes sense for us to all go off together. Please,” she pleaded, rolling her eyes. “Get busy packing.”

“But what about my school and—”

“You'll make up the work in a different school—a better school! Oh honey,” she said, clapping her hands together, “isn't this exciting? What could possibly be wrong with our trying to find a new place to live? I know you're not happy here anymore, right?”

“That's because of what happened to Daddy.”

“Exactly. And nothing is going to change that, so why stay? A new beginning—a fresh start—is what we all need. But we have to do it before it's too late, Melody. Do you want me to wait until I'm too old to have another chance? That's what happened to a lot of the people who
are stuck here. Well, it's not going to happen to me,” she said with determination.

She smiled again. “I have another surprise. I was going to save it until we actually left, until we were on the road with nothing ahead of us but a better future,” she said.

I stared at her dumbly, wondering what additional surprise she could possibly have.

“Don't you even want to know what it is?” she asked when I didn't speak.

I shook my head and gazed around. It was overwhelming. The suitcases on the floor, the house in a mess, clothes thrown everywhere . . .

“What?” I finally asked.

“Our first stop is going to be Provincetown, Cape Cod. You're going to see your father's family, finally. Well?” she said when I didn't reply. “Aren't you excited? You were always asking about them. Now, you'll get all the answers.”

“Provincetown? Daddy's family?”

“Yes. Isn't it a good idea?”

“I don't know,” I said. She was right: she had surprised me, something wasn't ringing true. I took a deep breath. My heart pounded. With everything happening so fast, I couldn't think straight.

“Shouldn't we plan this better, Mommy? Can't we sit and talk about it first and get organized?”

“No, because that usually means we won't do it,” she whined. “As Archie says, if you don't do something when you have the urge, you probably never will.”

“Why do we have to go with him?” I pursued.

She tightened her face and narrowed her eyes. “I like Archie, Melody. He makes me laugh and I'm tired of crying and complaining. I'm tired of people looking at me as if I were some sort of freak because my husband was killed in a mining accident.

“But not Archie.” She sat down on the sofa and motioned for me to join her. I sat down next to her, but I was cautious. Then she pulled me into her arms for the
first time since Daddy had died. She held me tightly and began to stroke my hair and slowly I began to relax. It felt so good to have my Mommy back. I'd missed her so much. “You'll like Archie once you get to know him. He's just the medicine I need and you need, honey.” She paused, but kept caressing my hair. I hoped she would never stop. “The only thing,” she added softly, “is after we leave Sewell, I don't want you to call him Archie anymore.”

“Why not?”

“His real name is Richard. Archie is just a nickname.”

“How come he can leave so quickly? He has a job,” I said, hoping she wouldn't get mad and stop holding me. Perhaps he had been caught watering the whiskey as Alice's father thought.

“It's not the sort of a job a man like Arch . . . Richard wants for the rest of his life. So we made a decision. Now, Pumpkin, I want you to go pack, and remember, only two suitcases.”

“But I'll have to leave so much behind,” I protested.

“George and Arlene will look after it,” she said. “And after we're settled somewhere nice, we'll have everything shipped to us.”

“Mama Arlene,” I muttered, realizing this meant I wouldn't see her anymore. “Did you tell her about this?”

“I was just going to do that,” Mommy said, “but forcing me to stand here and talk, talk, talk, has cut down on my time. I have things to pack, too.”

“But don't I have to tell the school and don't—”

“Will you stop all this chatter, Melody, and get packed! Everything will be just fine. We're not the first people to move, you know. Although, I bet you can count on one hand how many escaped this rat-trap.”

She smiled again and rushed off to her bedroom.

I just stood there, gazing around, still finding it hard to believe we were going to leave Sewell for good! What about going to Daddy's grave to say good-bye? And what about Alice and my other friends? I had to turn in my library books! What about our mail? And the bills we
still owed—surely, we had to go to the bank. There was so much to do.

I put down my book bag and walked slowly down the short corridor. Mommy had her closet open and her clothes thrown on the bed. She stood in the center of the room, pondering.

“I hate to leave so much behind, but I'll get new things, won't I?” she decided.

“Mommy,
please.
Let's wait and do this right.”

“Aren't you packing?” She turned to me angrily. “I'm warning you, Melody. When Archie arrives, we're going out that door,” she threatened. “What you have packed, goes. What you haven't, stays. Understand?”

I swallowed down the lump in my throat and thought a moment. A suggestion born of desperation came to my mind.

“Maybe I should stay and live with Mama Arlene and Papa George until you find a new home for us, Mommy.”

She shook her head. “I thought of that, but Papa George is sicker than ever and Mama Arlene has her hands full with him as it is. Besides, they are not really your family and can't be your legal guardians. It's too much responsibility for old, decrepit people to bear.”

“They're not old and decrepit,” I insisted.

“Melody, get your things into those suitcases!” Then her voice softened. “Don't make things harder than they have to be, honey. I'm depending on you to be a big girl. I'm a little frightened, too. Everyone's afraid when they start a new life. I need your support, Melody.” She paused when I didn't move. “Besides, you know Daddy would want you to do what I ask,” she said. “Wouldn't he?” She smiled. “Wouldn't he?”

“Yes,” I reluctantly admitted.

I lowered my head and turned away. When I stepped into my small room and gazed about, I found myself confronted with an impossibility. There were so many precious mementos, especially things Daddy had bought me, like my first doll, and all the pictures. Those
suitcases Mommy had set out for me were barely big enough to hold a tenth of my clothes, much less stuffed animals. And what about my fiddle?

“Ten minutes!” Mommy cried from her room.

I had ten minutes to decide what I would leave behind, maybe forever. I couldn't do it. I started to cry.

“Melody! I don't hear you putting things into your suitcases,” she called.

Slowly, I opened the dresser drawers and took out what I knew were necessities, my underthings, socks, some shoes and sneakers. Then I went to the closet and chose my skirts and blouses, two pairs of jeans, and some sweaters.

The suitcases filled up quickly, but I gathered as many of my photographs as I could and stuffed them under the clothes. Then I tried to squeeze in my first doll, my stuffed cat and Teddy bear, and some gifts from Daddy. Mommy came out and saw how full my suitcases were and how it was impossible to close them properly.

“You can't take all that,” she said.

“Can't I have another suitcase?”

“No. Arch . . . Richard has his things, too, and I have to take four suitcases myself. I need my good clothes so I can look nice when I go for job interviews and auditions,” she claimed. “I told you, we'll send for the rest.”

“But I don't need much more. Maybe a small carton and—”

“Melody, if you can't decide what to leave here, I'll decide for you,” she said and reached down to pluck the stuffed cat out of the suitcase.

“No!,”
I cried. “That was the last thing Daddy gave me!”

“Well, it's obviously either this or that Teddy bear or some of your clothes. Decide. You're a big girl now. You don't need toys,” she snapped and threw the cat back onto the clothes in the suitcase.

I pressed the stuffed animals down and then I sat on the suitcase so it would close and managed to get the snaps to hold. The sides of the suitcases bulged and they
were heavy, but I had gotten in the things I would positively not leave behind.

“You only need the one coat,” Mommy instructed, “and the boots you're wearing. Don't forget your gloves.”

“I'm taking my fiddle,” I said.

“Your fiddle? Melody, please. That's a backwoods, mountain person's instrument.”

“Daddy loved to hear me play.”

“Well, he can't hear you now. You're not going to play it much where you'll be going, I'm sure. Maybe you'll learn how to play the guitar or—”

“I won't go if I have to leave the fiddle, Mommy.” I folded my arms under my breasts and planted my back firmly against the wall. “I won't. I swear.”

She sighed.

“I guess it will take time to get the shanty town out of you. Suit yourself.” She marched down the corridor to finish packing up her cosmetics. I had forgotten my own toiletries and had to open one of the suitcases to get them in. I was still struggling to close it when Archie Marlin arrived.

He wore a brown sports jacket, a shirt and tie, and brown slacks. He looked a little better dressed than usual.

“Hi,” he said, entering my room without knocking. “Almost ready?” “No,” I said mournfully.

It only made him smile. “I bet you're excited, huh?”

“No,” I said, firmly this time.

“Scared, huh? Well, there's no need to be scared. I've been down this road before and there's nothing to fear.” His voice was full of bravado.

“I'm not scared. I'm upset we're leaving so quickly.”

“Best way to go is to just get up and go.” He snapped his fingers. “Either you're a man of action or you're just a talker.” He straightened his shoulders and pumped out his chest. I turned away so he wouldn't see the tears glistening in my eyes. “Haille!” he called.

“Oh, you're here, good.” Mommy came into my room. “I'm just about packed. You can start loading the car, Richard.”

He widened his eyes.

“She knows it's your real name and Archie's just a nickname,” Mommy explained.

“Oh? Good. Never liked that nickname.” Archie-Richard winked at me and went to get Mommy's bags.

“Are you packed?” she asked me.

“The bags are full. I just have to get this one closed.”

“No problem.” Archie paused as he dragged Mommy's two largest bags over the floor. He left them a moment to sit on my suitcase, pressing the fasteners in and snapping them shut. “You need anything, Melody, you just ask,” he told me. I snorted, hating the idea of asking him for anything.

“While we pack the car, why don't you go say good-bye to Mama Arlene?” Mommy said.

I lowered my head and put on my coat. Then I took my fiddle in its case and started for the door. Archie complained about how heavy Mommy's bags were. He struggled to get them down the steps behind me.

“Careful!” Mommy screamed. “Some of my nicest things are in those bags.”

Daddy could have picked them up with just a couple of fingers, I thought.

I knocked on Mama Arlene's trailer door.

“Melody, honey, what's wrong?” She knew there was something the moment she looked at my face.

“Oh, Mama Arlene. We're going away. We're leaving Mineral Acres for good!” I rushed into her arms.

I told her everything quickly, including my suggestion I remain behind and live with her and Papa George. We hadn't even moved from the doorway before I had it all said.

“Oh,” she said nodding. “So that's why she was asking me about George's condition. Well, come in a moment,” she said.

“Where is Papa George?” I asked, not seeing him in
his favorite oversized chair watching television and smoking. Before she could reply, I heard his heavy cough from their bedroom.

“He's a bit under the weather tonight,” she said. “The doctor wanted him in the hospital, but you know Papa George. He wouldn't go. When did you say you were going?”

“Today! Right now!”

“Right now? But she never said . . . Right now?” The realization shocked her almost as much as it had me. Her small hands fluttered up to her throat like two little song birds. She shook her head in disbelief.

“She wants you to keep our things until we send for them,” I explained.

“Of course. I'll take good care of everything. Oh Melody,” she said, actual tears flowing from her eyes now. “We'll miss you. You're the grandchild we never had, the child we never had.”

“I don't want to go,” I wailed.

“You got to go with your mother, honey. She needs you.”

“She doesn't need me,” I said defiantly. “She has Archie Marlin.”

“Archie Marlin? Oh.” She took on a look of disapproval and sadness, her eyes darkening.

“What's going on out there?” Papa George called from his bedroom.

“You better go say good-bye to him.” The way Mama Arlene said it put an icicle in my chest, chilling my heart. I walked slowly to the bedroom doorway and gazed in.

Papa George looked tiny under his comforter. Only his head, crowned with that stark white hair, showed. He coughed violently for a few moments and spit into a metal tray at the side of the bed. Then, he took a deep breath and turned to me. “What are you women jabbering about?”