When the Tide Ebbs: An epic 1930's love story (A Grave Encounter) (6 page)

I shoved it back. “Mama, I couldn’t eat another bite. That’s why I had a piece left over. You should’ve seen the spread Zann brought. I’ve never seen so much food.”

Mama’s lip trembled. “Kiah, I know how it embarrasses you for folks to know our circumstances. I’m so sorry, sugar.”

“Oh, Mama, it wasn’t charity. Not at all. I didn’t have meat and she didn’t have bread, so we shared. Mama, she said your biscuits were much better than the ones her mother tries to bake. I could tell she meant it. I plan to take four tomorrow. Two for her and two for me. She only took one of the three today, but I’m sure she was only being polite and didn’t want to take the last one. She didn’t even notice they weren’t buttered.”

Mama’s lip curled. For a second, the twinkle seemed to return in her eyes. Maybe I only imagined it. She took a bite of chicken and now I was sure I detected a gleam coming from the sunken orbs.

After wiping her mouth with her hand, she said, “You like this girl, don’t you, son?”

My body grew rigid. I’d already explained our relationship. Tutor and student. Why couldn’t she leave it at that?

“Of course, I like her Mama, but not the way you mean. She’s a swell kid, but that’s all she is. A kid.”

“I see.” She licked her lips. “How old is she?”

I mumbled, “Sixteen.”

Mama’s smile added to my frustration. “A kid, you say? Why, son, I wasn’t much older than her when you were born. Seems to me sixteen is mighty nigh to being a woman.”

“Not her. She’s . . . well, she’s innocent. You know . . . naïve, like a child. She hasn’t been exposed to the rough side of life. As far as she knows, life is one big carousel, going round and round to the merry sound of music.” Perhaps Zann Pruitt did possess the innocence of a child, but it didn’t take 20/20 vision to see she was mighty nigh to being a woman, as Mama had so aptly put it. I made a deliberate effort to clear her image from my mind. Allowing thoughts to linger was akin to taking a second look.

“I need to run, Mama. She’ll be waiting for me to tutor her.”

Mama wiped her hands on her apron, grabbed a pot holder and picked up a hot iron from off the stove. “I guess I’d better get started if I plan to have the ironing done by the time Mr. Easton gets here. Thank your friend for me and tell her I said the chicken was delicious.”

I nodded, to indicate I understood, although I had no plans to tell Zann I sneaked the chicken home because my mama was hungry.

I sprinted toward the bridge. I hoped I hadn’t kept her waiting. I won’t deny the job of tutor appealed to me, and in time I’d prove her confidence in me was well placed. My goal was to see Zann Pruitt make the second highest grade in the class on the final math exam at the year’s end. I was arrogant enough to believe that even with the proper tutelage she’d never rise above me.

As I drew closer to the bridge, I could see she wasn’t there. My heart sank. What if she didn’t show up? I slid down the embankment and sat on a little patch of grass under the bridge. Minutes later, I heard footsteps on the wooden slats above me. I grabbed my math book, opened it, and pretended to be studying. But the voice I heard wasn’t Zann’s. I cringed, recognizing Arnold Evers’ boorish laughter. Who was he talking to? I slid further under the bridge, hoping I was out of sight.

I heard him yell, “Hey, Zann. Fancy meeting you here. Mort and I came to try our luck. I hear the crappy’s been biting. Wanna walk down the branch with us and fish? I’ll cut you a pole.”

My heart hammered.

Zann’s soft voice didn’t carry, yet I deciphered enough to know she declined the offer.

Arnold said, “I suppose you’d rather fish with Hezekiah Grave? What do you see in him, anyhow? He’s a real chump. I think he came to school in first grade wearing that same pair of overalls.”

Mort Willoughby let out a hearty laugh, which sounded more like a mule braying.

If it’s true one can feel the blood boil, then I’m sure that accounts for the peculiar stirrings inside my gut. But not wanting to embarrass Zann, I lay low and waited. Surely, Arnold and Mort would leave and go further down the creek where the water wasn’t so shallow.

My heart pounded as I strained to hear the conversation above me.

Arnold said, “What’s on your face?”

There was a pause, and then he said, “No, not there. Let me get it for you.”

Zann screamed, “What are you doing, Arnold Evers. Turn me loose.”

I’m not sure if I grew wings, but it seemed I flew to the top of the embankment. I don’t think Arnold had time to see me coming, when Mort hollered, “Let her go, Arn. She ain’t worth it.”

I didn’t know which one to sock first, so I laid them both out. Knocked the breath out of Arnold, before shoving Mort over the edge and into the shallow water. I’d had plenty of things to rile me in my life, but I never remember being overwhelmed with such rage as when I saw Arnold holding her while she fought him. Arnold jumped up, brushed himself off and grabbed his pole. I snatched him by the shirt collar. “Arnold Evers, if you ever lay a hand on her again, you’ll look like a lone oak at a woodpeckers’ picnic. Do you get the picture?”

He glared at me and then looked down at Mort who was crawling up the embankment. “You can have her,” he sneered.

His words made me want to hit him again. How could I respond to such a statement? I couldn’t say, “I don’t want her,” even though I didn’t . . . or at least I didn’t want to want her. Life was becoming complicated. I watched until they were out of sight.

I turned to look at Zann. Her face was redder than a July tomato. “You okay?” I asked.

“Yes, thanks to you.”

I ran my fingers through my hair and mumbled, “I’m glad he didn’t hurt you. You ready to study?”

“Ready,” she smiled. “But first, shall we have a little refreshments? I made cupcakes last night. I hope you like chocolate.”

I couldn’t recall the last time I had anything chocolate. She pulled out three cupcakes. Chocolate on the inside and white icing on the outside. She called it a devil’s food cake recipe, and I could understand where it got its name. Anything that good was surely a sin. We’d both eaten one, when she handed me the third. “Here, I brought you an extra.”

“No, you have it.”

“Kiah, I made two dozen. There are plenty left at home. I want you to have it.”

Refusal to accept might seem ungrateful. I could’ve eaten the whole two dozen, but I couldn’t get Mama off my mind. She’d enjoy a cupcake with icing. “Thank you, Zann. I think I’ll save this one and take it home with me, if you don’t mind.”

She smiled as if she’d hoped I would.

I pulled out the math book and turned to chapter 13. I tried not to focus on the dab of white icing on the tip of her nose, but the more I tried to ignore it, the more prominent it became. “Uh . . . Zann, you have . . . you have icing on your—” I swallowed. What if she were to think I’d taken a cue from Arnold. “I’m telling the truth.”

She giggled. “Well, don’t just sit there. Get it off, silly.” She handed me a napkin and closed her eyes.

I leaned in, and with the edge of the linen cloth, gently wiped the tip of her nose. The mouth-watering smell of chocolate mingled with the sweet, alluring fragrance of gardenias created an enticing aroma, which I imagined smelled similar to the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden.

I straightened and cleared my throat. “Did you work the fractions I gave you to practice on?”

She lowered her head and snickered. “I tried. Honest I did, Kiah. I feel so dumb.”

“Don’t say such, Zann. You’re about the smartest girl I’ve ever met. Someone along the way failed to do their job in teaching you basic math skills. That’s all. As smart as you are, it won’t take long for you to grasp.”

I gave her simple problems to boost her confidence and then proceeded to slide into more complex ones until I found her level. It seemed I could see the light in her head go off as she gained understanding. I enjoyed helping Zann, yet I’m not sure I would’ve enjoyed it nearly as much if she had a homely face and a squatty body.

In my eleven years of schooling, I’d never made anything below an A in math. Mr. Thatcher, my math teacher said I had a brilliant mind. Even if it was an exaggeration to encourage me, it worked. I entered the math competition at the beginning of the school year, competing against math students from all across the tri-state area. Winning the trophy was exciting, but my greatest joy came from knowing I’d pleased Mr. Thatcher. Someone besides Mama was proud of me.

We had a pleasant fall. The weather turned cool, although the thermometer hadn’t dipped lower than 55, even at night. It was my favorite time of year. The woods in the early October evenings took on a soft orange glow as the sun sank earlier with each passing day. Vibrant goldenrod, yellow daisies and bright purple wildflowers added a touch of warmth to the woods with its barren trees and brown, dry leaves blanketing the earth.

Zann and I met every chance we could, for the next two months. Her math grades improved dramatically.

School let out for the Christmas holidays. Mr. Thatcher handed out report cards at the end of the day and congratulated Zann for making an “A” in math. I should’ve been pleased. Instead, regret gnawed at my gut. She no longer needed me.

When the bell rang to go home, I grabbed my coat from the cloak room and trudged out the door with a lump in my throat the size of a wharf rat. I dared not look in her direction. I couldn’t. If she said anything to me—anything at all, she’d see—and know. I’d never been good at hiding my feelings, and in spite of my staunch resolve not to fall in love, I’d failed.

I was half-way across the school yard when she yelled my name. “Wait, Kiah. Wait!” She ran toward me.

I upped the pace, pretending not to hear, though I heard every single sound she made. I heard the leaves beneath her feet as she drew closer to me. I kept walking. I heard every breath she took. I dared not turn around. If I walked any faster, I’d be sprinting. But she kept coming. I even heard her skirt rustling as she caught up with me and grabbed me by the arm. I heard the beating of her heart. Or was it mine?

I stopped and grimaced. “What do you want?”

Her brow furrowed. “Are you angry with me?”

“Angry? Why would I be angry?” I snarled.

“I don’t know, but you didn’t seem thrilled when Mr. Thatcher announced my grade. “We did it, Kiah. We did it. Aren’t you pleased? I could never have done it without you.”

I couldn’t look at her. I gazed out across a field of dried corn stalks. “I’m happy for you, Zann. I am.” The last sentence wasn’t meant to convince Zann as much as it was meant to convince myself. I wanted to be excited for her, and I tried. I did.

She said, “I’ll meet you at the bridge in thirty minutes. I can’t wait to show Mother my report card. This will prove to her and Daddy that we’ve been studying.”

I picked up a pine cone and tossed it as far as I could throw it. “I suspected as much,” I scowled.

Zann lifted her shoulders. “What do you mean?”

I growled, “So your parents didn’t believe we were studying. They don’t trust me, do they? I’ll bet they wouldn’t have worried if you’d been at the bridge with one of the choir boys from your daddy’s church.”

She reached up and laid her hand on my shoulder. “Oh, Kiah, I was only joking. Mother and Daddy never doubted for a minute we were studying.” She brushed her hand over my lips. “Wipe the frown off your face, okay? Your dimples go into hiding when you frown.”

I had plenty of reason to frown. With school out for Christmas, I wouldn’t see her for two whole weeks and three days. By the time school reconvened, she’d realize she had no need for me.

She said, “Meet me at the bridge in thirty minutes.”

I shook my head. “No, Zann. The math lessons are over. There’s no reason for you to go there.”

Her smile faded. “Okay, Kiah. If that’s the way you want it.”

“That’s the way it’s going to be, Zann.” I turned and walked away. Had to. If I didn’t leave immediately, I’d change my mind.

I wasn’t ready to go home. I found an old tin can and kicked it all the way to the covered bridge. I climbed down the embankment and sprawled out on the cold ground underneath. This was our place. The place where I sensed her presence, even when she wasn’t with me. Why did I tell her not to come? Didn’t she know how I ached when she wasn’t near me? How I longed to spend every moment in her presence?

Reality slapped me in the face and set my thinking straight. I told her not to come because it was the right thing to do. As much as it hurt, it was up to me to end things before the situation became more complicated. Our love could never be. Turtle doves and buzzards don’t belong together.

I picked up a pine straw and stuck it in my mouth. As I lay on the ground, chewing on the straw, I closed my eyes. I listened to the sounds of water rippling over the rocks, a mockingbird, a train whistle in the distance, and the crackling leaves as birds scratched around in the underbrush, searching for earth worms. The happiest hours of my life had been the ones I spent with Zann, under the bridge. I tried to picture her sitting beside me. Her hair slung over her left shoulder, her eyes twinkling like black onyx. I sucked in a breath and for a moment, I got a whiff of gardenias, her presence was so real.