Authors: Anna Jean Mayhew

The Dry Grass of August (10 page)

C
HAPTER 12

U
ncle Taylor and Mama were talking about Leesum as I came up from the cabana.

“He can't stay here, Taylor.”

“I know, but I want to help him.”

“How? Adopt him?” Mama's lighter snapped open, clinked shut. “Mary's going to call her pastorâpreacher, whatever he is. It's all arranged.”

Mama wouldn't believe how sad I was that Leesum was leaving. All summer I'd wanted to meet a nice boy, and the ones I'd seen were creeps or stuck-up. Now there was Leesum, with those mystery green eyes, golden skin, and curly hair that looked dry in the gulf.

After breakfast Uncle Taylor took Leesum to the naval base to buy him clothes and a bag for the trip to Charlotte. We didn't have a chance to say another word to each other. I went to the kitchen and asked Mary, “Is Leesum going back to Charlotte?”

“He is. I'm going to talk to Reverend Perkins. The boy'll be just fine, don't you worry.”

“Okay.” I left the kitchen and went to Uncle Taylor's den, where I'd seen a thesaurus. I sat in his easy chair with the heavy book in my lap and looked up synonyms for
heaven
and
paradise
.

I was sitting in the damp sand, dribbling it through my fingers into cone-shaped towers that became shapeless mounds when waves washed over them. Sarah came over the dunes and said hey. She shook out her blanket next to my towel and took a pair of binoculars from around her neck.

I got up and went to her, startled by her friendliness. “Hey.”

Her hair was pulled up into a knot, and her ears stuck out above her skinny neck and knobby shoulders. She had on a bathing suit and voluminous Bermuda shorts that enveloped her matchstick legs.

I said, “I don't remember you wearing glasses.”

“I've only had them six months.”

“Did your eyes get bad all of a sudden?”

“I've been nearsighted for ages. Nobody figured it out until Mrs. Cooper.”

“How'd she know?”

“I kept bumping into stuff. Daddy thought I was just awkward, but Mrs. Cooper . . .” she pushed at her glasses. “Sorry I've been a pill.”

“That's okay.” I smoothed my beach towel.

“I just don't want to talk about it.” Her voice had the same final tone Mama used. “Look over there.” Sarah handed me the binoculars and pointed at Mrs. Willingham in her canvas beach lounge.

I focused the binoculars. “What's she eating?”

“Candy.”

I couldn't think of anything more boring than watching a fat lady eat candy. I handed the glasses back and told Sarah how mean Mrs. Willingham had been to Mary and Leesum that morning.

“She can be horrible, but Daddy always takes up for her.”

I'd left out the part about me swimming with Leesum. Sometimes I didn't want to talk, either. I put my head down on my arms, letting the sun soak into my back, thinking about him.

“She's reaching in her bag for a Coke,” Sarah said. “You should see her lounge. Stains all over it.”

A voice thundered, “Sarah Dolores!”

I shaded my eyes against the sun and looked up. Uncle Taylor loomed over us. He took the binoculars. “Spying on Mrs. Willingham?”

“We were watching her eat candy,” I said.

Uncle Taylor held the binoculars to his eyes. He was in uniformâa short-sleeved khaki shirt and trousersâstanding like an officer on the deck of a ship, fiddling with the focus ring, making a sweep of the beach. “Trash patrol.”

Sarah groaned.

“What's trash patrol?”

“Sarah will show you.”

“How much?” Sarah asked.

“Ours, hers, and theirs,” Uncle Taylor said, pointing west.

“We weren't hurting her.”

“You were stealing her privacy.”

“She's sitting right out there on the beach, for all the world to see.”

“Tell you what. Go sit right next to her and watch her.”

“Jubie just told me what Mrs. Willingham did toâ”

Uncle Taylor cut her off. “We'll talk about it later.”

“What if she asks me why we're doing her beach?”

“Tell her it's neighborly love.”

As Uncle Taylor turned to leave, I said, “I thought your uniform was white.”

“I have a white dress uniform. Where'd you see it?”

“We have a photo in the living room at home.”

“From my graduation, I guess.”

“I like the one you have on, too.”

“Thank you, Miss June.” He took off his hat and bowed to me. I watched him walk back to the house, taking high arcing steps to keep sand from getting in his shiny shoes.

“Dad'll do an inspection when we're done. If he finds a toothpick, we'll have to add another chunk of beach.”

We went to the kitchen for grocery bags to put the trash in, and I looked around for Leesum but didn't see him.

Cellophane from Nabs, cigarette butts, soda bottles, a bloody Band-Aid. I put a candy wrapper over my fingers to pick it up and put it in the bag.

As we picked up trash, I asked Sarah, “Will you get a spanking?”

“What for?”

“Spying on Mrs. Willingham.”

“Trash patrol is for that.”

“Doesn't your daddy spank you?”

“He says he's going to, but he never does.”

Yellow plates were set around the white kitchen table for lunch. Ham sandwiches on rye bread filled a platter next to a bowl of slaw. A plate with slices of cantaloupe and honeydew sat on the lazy Susan with a basket of potato chips, a dish of tomatoes, and yellow salt and pepper shakers. A perfect picture of a lovely lunch. I put ice in glasses while Sarah called everybody to eat, and Mary came along behind me, pouring tea.

Uncle Taylor switched on the attic fan, propping open the door to the screen porch, and the paper napkins fluttered as we sat down. Mary and Leesum took their plates to a table on the porch. When we bowed our heads for Uncle Taylor to say the blessing, I squinted through my eyelids at Leesum. His eyes were closed, his hands together under his chin. He took praying seriously.

Over lunch nobody said much. As we finished, Sarah asked her father, “Now can I tell you what Mrs. Willingham did?”

“You may.” Uncle Taylor turned to Sarah, giving her his full attention. Daddy wouldn't listen to me for more than a minute.

“All Mary was doing was walking on the beach, and Mrs. Willingham told her to stop, and for Leesum to get dressed, and things have to be separate.”

“When was this?”

Sarah asked me, “When, Jubie?”

I looked at my plate. “Early this morning.”

Uncle Taylor asked me, “Were you there?”

“Yes, sir. We were gathering shells for a sand castle.”

“You and who else?”

“Me and Davie, Mary and Leesum. Mary walked in the water on Mrs. Willingham's beach.”

“And what was Leesum wearing?”

“Shorts.”

Uncle Taylor turned in his chair to speak to Leesum. “Is that right, Leesum?”

“Yessuh.”

“And did you go in the gulf?”

“Some.” Leesum looked at me.

“Did Mrs. Willingham see you in the water?”

“Don't think so. Leastways she dint say she did.”

Uncle Taylor turned back to me. “What did Mrs. Willingham say?”

“That Mary shouldn't be in the water, that it's against the law.”

He took his napkin from his lap and wiped his mouth. “Mrs. Willingham is a lonely woman with too much time on her hands. Negroes scare her. She worries about her property value.” Daddy never explained things the way Uncle Taylor did, speaking to us as if we were adults.

Uncle Taylor turned in his seat and spoke to Leesum and Mary. “I'm sorry for what happened. She's right about the law, but most people are pretty relaxed about hired help.” He cleared his throat. “Uh, Mary, what did your minister say when you called?”

“He be happy to have Leesum stay with him for a while. They's a bus at five this evening that gets to Charlotte tomorrow night. Reverend Perkins'll be there to meet it.”

So it was decided. I hoped Leesum knew how sorry I was that he was leaving.

Mama, Uncle Taylor, and Kay Macy Cooper were going for bridge that afternoon at the officers' club with Mrs. Willingham. “She's an incredible bridge player,” Uncle Taylor said. Mama groaned.

Mrs. Cooper said, “Taylor, you're too kind. She's lucky. That double finesse she pulled last week . . .”

“She counts cards. That's skill.”

“Why do you defend her?”

“Skipper Willingham saved my hide more than once. His widow's a narrow-minded biddy, but I watch out for her.”

Uncle Taylor wanted to take Leesum to the bus station, but the schedule would've messed up their plans, and Stell was dying to drive the Packard. Uncle Taylor said, “You'll be fine, Stell Ann. It'll be broad daylight. Take Mary and Jubie with you, and let Mary get out with Leesum to buy his ticket. You and Jubie lock the car and stay in it. If you have any trouble, look for a policeman, an MP, anyone in uniform. Everybody knows me.”

I spent a lot of time getting ready for the trip to town. My yellow cotton sundress was great with my tan, and for once my hair did exactly what I wanted it to. When I looked in the mirror, I knew I was pretty. I ached to ride in back with Leesum, but that couldn't be. I knew the rules and I hated them. On the ride across the bay and into Pensacola, I kept sneaking glances at him, catching him looking at me. He liked me as much as I liked him.

At the station, there were sailors everywhere. When Stell pulled up in front of the bus station, I got out and she shrieked, as I knew she would, “Where are you going?”

“Inside with Mary, to say a proper good-bye to Leesum.”

“You are not! I'll tell Mama.”

Mary said, “Estelle Annette, I'll take care of her.” When Mary used our full names, we listened.

Inside the station, Mary told us, “Y'all go over by the door to the buses. I'll get the ticket.”

Leesum and I walked to double doors marked D
EPARTURES
. Next to the doors was a sign, N
EGROES
B
OARD
L
AST
. We stood there, the backs of our hands touching like everything was okay, looking at each other. I said, “Your name does mean heaven. Elysium or elysian fields. I looked it up.”

“Wonder where my mama heard that.”

“Maybe at church.”

He said, “You the prettiest girl I ever knowed.”

I couldn't think what to say.

“I probably ain't never gone see you again, but I ain't never gone forget you.”

“Me, neither.”

“If you want, you could write me a letter sometime.”

I tried not to show how happy that made me. “Where?”

“McDowell Street Baptist Church, McDowell Street, Charlotte.”

“Okay.”

“You know I can't write you back.”

“Yes.”