"Lexie was dyin'," he said, "and they figured the baby might, too, so's they had no choice. Otherwise they woulda left her sufferin' 'til she got that young'un out on her own, them sons-a-bitchers." Those are his own words 'cause I'm not trying to swear me no words. He was so mad I'm telling ya'. It was really something and I don't rightly blame him none. Seems like the right thing to do would be treat everybody the same.
Uncle Melvin was fretting all that week about the hospital wanting their money and the doctors pestering him about filing some papers so's they could get paid. Mama was having a time of it, too. She was fretting herself over all the doctor and hospital bills stacking up from Ray's time in the burn unit at Grady. She tried to keep 'em from Ray. I think she was afraid he'd start drinking again if he seen how many there was. I heard her and Uncle Melvin talking about going down to the business office together and setting up payments or something.
"Trouble is, Melvin," Mama said, "there ain't a penny extra for payments. What am I gonna do?"
It was the first time I seen Melvin didn't have no answers. He just shook his head like he didn't know, and here he always knowed just about everything.
I could of given my dimes and pennies, but the March of Dimers come weeks ago and got 'em. Melvin didn't have any money to spare, and he was having trouble getting the insurance people to pay what they was supposed to. That's when they took Lexie from this nice room they give her, called her a indigent or something, and put her in another room with twenty-some other ladies. I don't rightly understand it all even now, but it made Melvin's face turn red and his breathing come out funny.
I coulda told them Melvin was good for paying what he owed. He was the most honest, hard-working man I knowed, but it didn't seem to make no difference to them 'cause Melvin was complaining over and over about how they wouldn't listen and take Lexie back to her regular room where he wanted her. Mama said he was plumb eat up with regret that he didn't have the money to do right by Lexie.
"Lori Jean, men's ability to take care a' their loved ones is all tied up with their manness. If 'n they can't do one, they can't do the other." I didn't rightly understand all that none, but Mama knew a whole lotta things now. MeeMaw said that would happen.
"It's called wisdom, Lori Jean," she said. "You git it by makin' a whole lotta mistakes and remembering them." So my mama was right smart by then 'cause she'd made herself a whole lotta mistakes. Truth be known, Ray was prob'ly her biggest.
After they took Lexie over to that room with all them other ladies scrunched together, Melvin seemed like a changed man. Plumb angry, he was. Always talking about us and them, and whoever "them" was, he didn't like 'em much a'tall. He'd go see Lexie and the baby every day when he finished at the mill before he'd go over to Mr. Jenkins's trailer lot. Then, when he got done working there, he'd come over to our place to pick up the twins. I always helped carry Alice back to her bed and he took Irl. Then he'd fix me a cold glass of lemonade as a "thank yee" treat.
It was my favorite time of the day, now Carolee was gone. Uncle Melvin and me, we'd sit and talk and he'd pour hisself a glass of whiskey. He never been one to drink much, but he was doing a bit of it lately, I noticed. But he didn't get mean or nothing like Ray did when he drunk. Fancy that! Ray was sober now and sound asleep next door, fixing to go to work in the morning and Melvin was pouring hisself a whiskey. Life sure had a way of turning tables. MeeMaw always said ya' can't never count on things staying the same.
"Don't takes nothing for granted, Lori Jean," she said, "'cause just when you think somethin's gonna be one way, it ends up another." Seems she was right. Which didn't surprise me none. She told me herself before she died.
"Lori Jean, your meemaw hasn't always been right, but she's never been wrong."
Mama and me, we wanted to put that on her gravestone. She'd of liked that, but it cost extra money, so Ray told them to just put her name on it, be done with it. He wasn't in too good a mood that day, so it's too bad it was her time to die that day 'cause she might would of had herself a nicer grave marker if 'n she'd died the next week. Ray was whooping and hollering and real happy that week. That's when he come over and moved in with us. Mama give him all the money MeeMaw saved up in the jar and he took us all out to dinner for a celebration even. He probably might would of spent some of that money on a nicer grave marker for MeeMaw; I'm pretty sure he mighta, if she'd of died that week 'cause he sure was happy spreading all that money round town. He stayed that way for a couple a' weeks. When the jar got empty he got hisself in a bad mood again. Those days seemed so long ago. That was way before Melvin and Lexie had themselves any babies even.
"Uncle Melvin, I'd sure like to go with you to see Lexie and the baby tomorrow. It's Saturday. I don't got me any school."
"Well, baby girl, I wish you could, but they ain't about to let young'uns up on the floor."
"I'd be real quiet, I would. I promise," I said.
"Oh, I'm sure you would, Lori Jean. You're 'bout the best little girl I know." I loved it when Uncle Melvin said stuff like that about me. He made me feel real special, even if I wasn't.
"You see, sweet pea, it's not about being quiet. It's about bringing in them germs you young'uns carry around. That's why you can't visit."
"Oh," I said.
"You wouldn't want to get that new little baby sick now, would you?"
"No, sir. I surely would not," I said.
"Well, there you go then."
"But she's comin' home on Monday, you said. What about them germs I'll be carryin' around come Monday? Won't they make the baby sick, too?" I asked.
"Nah, by then that baby's got immunities from Lexie's milk."
"'Munnities? What's 'munnities?"
"Well, it's kinda hard to explain, Lori Jean, but I'll give it a shot." Uncle Melvin scratched at his whisker stubble and scrunched his forehead together.
"Immunities is, let me see now, immunities is, well, there's this little army of soldiers in your blood that fights with a little army a' soldiers in her blood."
"So her army's fightin' my army?"
"Yep."
"And that's good?"
"Yep! What do you think about that?"
"Alls I gotta say is if 'n her army's fightin' my army, I sure hope she forgives me if my army wins."
Uncle Melvin burst out laughing like I was some kind of clown or something. We had us a fine old time. Being Friday night, Mama let me stay up late, even though her and Ray was tired and went to bed real early.
"Tell me again about you and Ray when you was growin' up, Uncle Melvin," I said.
"Those was pretty rough times, Lori Jean. What you want to hear about that for?" he asked.
"Well, I was hopin' it'd help me be nice to Ray the times he's bein' mean, knowin' what your pa done ta' him and all."
"Well, he's only mean as thunder when he's drunk, Lori Jean. He's sober right now. Let's just enjoy that, okay?"
He patted my head and squeezed past me to reach the whiskey bottle. He took the cork off and poured hisself a tad more. It was the white lightning he bought from old man Hawkins. Mr. Hawkins had one still left, way down yonder by the creek that Maybelle and the revenuers didn't know about. Poor Mr. Hawkins spent time in the jailhouse once a long time ago. Maybelle told on him and he got sent to work on the chain gang over in Jackson. That's how he come to be called old man Hawkins. He come out looking like an old man. Right before she called the law, Maybelle's pa died and left her all his money. So she didn't need Mr. Hawkins to support her none and she told him so. Said she'd put him there again, if 'n he didn't mend his ways and follow the work of the Lord. He was pretty much scared of Maybelle. Mostly he did what she said, 'ceptin' for keepin' that one last still he had. I guess he figured it was worth it. MeeMaw said there's always something a body's fearless over.
"There's always one thing a body's willing to give their life for, Lori Jean," she said. "The lucky ones find what it is, but don't have to."
That still must of been the one for Mr. Hawkins 'cause he guarded it with his life, and he sure enough risked his freedom for it. Maybelle didn't abide by no lawbreaking—God's or man's. MeeMaw was that way, too, but she didn't believe in snitching on nobody.
"It's best to let the Lord do the correcting, Lori Jean," she told me. "He's the one keeping score, and he surely don't need my help."
MeeMaw had this here note on a piece of paper shaped like a heart she kept in her bureau drawer that said:
Dear Mavis,
[Mavis Edna Howard, that's her christened name]
I won't be needing any help today.
Love, God
When I asked why she kept it on top of her girdle, she said, "That way I see it every morning when I get my bloomers out and it reminds me to mind my own business." Mama said it pretty much didn't help her none. Said her heart was in the right place, but her nose never was; that she was always sticking it in where it didn't belong. 'Leastin' that's what Mama yelled at her when they used to fuss at each other, which weren't really that much, 'til Ray come around and MeeMaw didn't want Mama to have nothing to do with him.
"Uncle Melvin, my meemaw always said a man beats on a lady is a coward and deserves whatever sorrowful wrath the good Lord sends him. Is that true?" I asked.
"Well, baby girl, I'll tell ya'. It's not all that simple. Be nice if it were, though."
"What'cha mean?"
"Well, take your stepdaddy there. Now, I know when he drinks he gets mean as a monkey done lost his banana and your mama probably got in his way and got herself hurt a few times, but let me tell you, Ray's got a' sickness in him that's mostly the cause a' it. Now, I ain't sayin' that makes it right, and I surely ain't sayin' he ought to get away with it. All's I'm sayin' is, he's got defects that make it darned near impossible for him to be any other way."
"What'cha mean, defects?"
"He's got broken pieces inside him that never got fixed."
"You mean when your pa whipped him bad he broke bones inside his head that didn't mend and he's plumb crazy?"
"It's worse than that. Any bones he broke mostly healed that I know a'. The thing is, Lori Jean, our pa broke his spirit, cut right into his soul, scarred his insides for life, he did."
"What did he do to him?" I said. Melvin got hisself another whiskey.
"Ray loved to fish back in those days," Uncle Melvin said. "Stay down by a small lake ran out back…" He swallowed down more of that whiskey. "Stayed away for hours he did…anything not to be around…"
"But, what'd your pa do to him, Uncle Melvin?" I said.
"No need to be going over that," he said.
"I'd sure like to know, Uncle Melvin. So's I can understand. Maybe help him, if I can." Uncle Melvin was looking at me, but his eyes was far away.
"That old man…that old man…" Uncle Melvin said. "He… he…"
"He what?"
"He…liked to fish, Ray did. He sure did."
"But, what did your pa…"
"He went down to that lake whenever he could…Ray did… He…that old man…He was a good boy…Ray was…He…that old man…he…he…"
"But, what'd he do?" I said, trying to get him to tell me, but Uncle Melvin was froze still as a jackrabbit done seen a snake.
"…He…he…" Uncle Melvin whispered, "he…buggered him." I could barely hear him; only had me one good ear.
"For years that bastard…buggered him."
"Buggered?" I said. "What's
that
?"
"Don't be repeating that word, Lori Jean!" he said. "It ain't a nice thing."
"But, what is it?"
"Nothin'. Just forget I said anything."
"Please tell me, Uncle Melvin, please…"
"Lori Jean, it's something terrible he done to Ray."
"Well, just tell me what it is he done so's I won't ask no more." Uncle Melvin just sat there starin' off into space.
"He put his man part in Ray's butt!"
"His man part?" I said. "You mean like a man got a' part and a lady got a different part, that kind a' man part?"
"Yep," Melvin said.
"And he put it in Ray's butt?"
"Yep," Uncle Melvin said, and took hisself a big swallow of that whiskey.
"That don't sound right a'tall, Uncle Melvin," I said. "I don't reckon he oughta been doin' that."
"That's what you call one a' them understatements."
"Under who?"
"Never mind."
"Why'd he do it, Uncle Melvin?"
"I don't rightly know, Lori Jean. In all my years, I ain't never figured that out." Uncle Melvin got up and patted my shoulder.
"Oh," I said. He poured me another glass of that fine lemonade. "Well, maybe somebody done it to your pa and he grew up thinkin' it was a okay thing to do," I said.
"Maybe so, Lori Jean. Maybe so. It's too complicated for me. All's I know is Ray never got no love from that man, not ever." I set my lemonade down and it weren't even half gone.
"I shouldn't be talkin' about this to you, Lori Jean," he said. "What in thunder got into me?" Uncle Melvin grabbed the bottle of white lightning. He looked at it like he ain't been acquainted with it before. Then he stuck it up on the top shelf of the cabinet and slammed the door right in its face.