Playing by the Rules: A Novel (5 page)

He wished he could think of something to say to make her feel better. “Are you up for an adventure?”

Ruby Rose didn’t answer right away; the lump in her throat was still there and she couldn’t stop her bottom lip from quivering. But after a while she turned to face her brother and hugged him as best as she could without making him swerve the car in the road and change lanes and get into an accident.

“I know how to play that song on the piano,” she said, turning her attention to the radio as if her fresh new start in life required a whole new subject.

“What song?” Jeremiah asked, relieved she was returning to good spirits.

“‘You Are the Sunshine of My Life,’ by Stevie Wonder,” she said, pointing to the radio.

“
You
are,” Jeremiah smiled and winked.

“No.
You
are,” Ruby Rose countered, playing the game.

“No.
You
are.” Jeremiah elbowed her in the ribs.

“I said it first.” Ruby Rose poked him on the side of his stomach.

“So what. I said it second. Plus, I’m bigger than you,” Jeremiah added, jabbing her back with his finger.

“If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll play it for you on the piano one day.”

“You can actually play the piano?” Jeremiah caught himself sounding surprised. “Quit jivin’, girl. You any good?”

She fluttered her fingers along imaginary keys, playing make-believe scales. “I’m already in the
John Thompson’s Modern Course for the Piano Fifth Grade Book
. I bet I could be in a recital soon, if I practiced…if I had the chance…if I continued playing.” When she turned to the window, her words drifted into the glass.

“Let’s try to make that happen,” Jeremiah said. “That’s one thing about the future…you never know what to expect. So let’s hope that when it gets here, it offers nothing but the best.”

“Do you think what’s-his-name …” Ruby Rose tried to remember, and then as if a lightbulb went off in her head, “Dick Gregory has a piano?”

“If he doesn’t have a piano you can play
on
, I know he’s got lots of kids you can play
with
.”

Ruby Rose crossed her fingers and her legs and her arms. The
past four years had been the worst time of her life, and the period before that hadn’t been exactly fun either.

Sitting in the front seat next to her brother, Ruby Rose’s thoughts drifted to their mother. When Mama wasn’t drunk and passed out, or high on whatever kind of drug was convenient and affordable at the moment, she’d tell Ruby Rose stories that would make her laugh, especially the one of how she got her name. This would usually occur around bedtime, when her mother felt guilty about one thing or another, like opening up a can of vegetables and serving them for dinner cold. Or because her mother thought it would help relieve the pain from the slap she’d received when she refused to call one of her mother’s many boyfriends “uncle.” Then Ruby Rose’s mother would playfully pull her to the couch and wrap her arms around her. The story would always start the same way: “I named you Ruby Rose because the day you came into the world, your lips were pink, your cheeks were flush, and your hair looked like amber wheat kissed by the sun. Your birthstone was a ruby, because you were born on the seventh of July. And I could tell by the freckles that were mere buds on your face that you’d have a beautiful reddish tint to your skin. With the way your little fists were balled up tight and waving back and forth, I could see you’d have a spirit as intense as fire. And when I put my nose against your little neck, I smelled a soul as fresh and as sweet as a rose in full bloom. Since you were such a cute little ruby-red gem, when the doctor asked me what I was going to name you, I told him I would call you Ruby Rose.” Then, in one of those rare moments when her mother was actually loving and fun, she tickled Ruby Rose, who laughed and laughed, forgetting about her hunger or her pain. That was one of only a few good memories that Ruby Rose had of (
their
) mother. The others she tried to push back into the shadows of her mind.

Jeremiah hardly ever came to visit Ruby Rose when she lived
with Mama. He didn’t like Mama taking all those pills, smoking those rolled-up cigarettes without white-tip filters that didn’t smell like Salems. He didn’t like her drinking and staying out late at night, being with all those different men. Ruby Rose didn’t like it much either, but since Jeremiah was fifteen years her senior and ran away from home as soon as he was old enough to read a map, he didn’t have to put up with their mother’s unscrupulous, unpredictable ways. He didn’t even come to see their mother when a handful of strangers from the Faith Redemption Ministries said a prayer, cremated her, and put her in a cardboard box that was buried in Potter’s Field.

Little did Ruby Rose know that the sadness was just beginning. The day the child-welfare lady came, and led her by the hand to her 1960 eight cylinder four-door hardtop Oldsmobile sedan, Ruby Rose started sobbing so hard that she couldn’t wipe the snot away fast enough.

By the time she arrived to mean Miss Molly Esther Reynolds’ house in Mattoxville, Ruby Rose had changed. She had grown up on the car ride that took her two hundred miles away from her home in Livingston. Mama had given her no choice but to leave her childhood behind.

Standing at the top of the stairs with her arms outstretched like a lifeguard come to rescue someone drowning in deep water, Miss Molly Esther Reynolds was all fancy in clean clothes, with a smile that had been pressed on with an iron. When Ruby Rose went inside the house, she could tell Miss Molly Esther wasn’t used to having children around. There wasn’t a single toy in sight and everything was perfect in its place. The sofa and chairs were covered in stiff plastic and lots of porcelain knickknacks were perfectly arranged on glass coffee and end tables. There wasn’t any noise in the house either—no laughter, no music, and no TV. Ruby Rose doubted that the phone even rang often. Trusting her senses,
she took what she saw as a warning that she should watch her step around this stranger whom she hoped wouldn’t ask to be called “Mother.”

For two months everything was fine with Miss Molly Esther, until one day Ruby Rose’s stomach started hurting at school and she came home without an appetite. When she couldn’t finish her dinner, Miss Molly Esther threw a fit complete with foam forming in the creases of her mouth. Ruby Rose told her she had a stomachache, but Miss Molly Esther didn’t listen and didn’t care, saying there was a huge famine in West Africa with starving children eating leaves and roots of trees. These children would give their right arm for real food; then she added that Ruby Rose was gonna eat those peas one by one until her plate was clean. Ruby Rose wished she could mail her peas to the hungry children in West Africa, along with a few other meals Miss Molly cooked. She forced down one more pea and couldn’t help it because it was too late, her stomach had already revolted, and she heaved back and hurled a stream of green all over Miss Molly. The next thing Ruby Rose knew she was sitting in a chair in the corner, facing the wall for the rest of the night.

After the upset-stomach incident, things got worse. When she came home from school, Miss Molly would make Ruby Rose clean the floors and scrub toilets. Ruby Rose spent so much time on her knees that her skin became raw and began to bleed. Miss Molly Esther was careful to cover Ruby Rose’s knees with bandages. When the neighbors asked about the gauze that was wrapped with adhesive tape around her legs, Miss Molly Esther would laugh and say, “This is the fallingest child I ever did see, so clumsy this one is. I think she’s better off just sitting still in a chair.” Some days Ruby Rose thought she was better off alone; other days she thought she’d be better off dead. Regardless, she didn’t understand how someone who carried a Bible to religious study and sang in
the church choir on Monday nights could be so cruel. If one night wasn’t enough, Ruby Rose concluded, probably Miss Molly should go see God every day of the week.

Sometimes Miss Molly Esther would take a break from herself and be nice. Thankfully that would happen for long stretches at a time—for about six months to a year. But then her eyes would get wild, her laugh would turn into a snort, and her eyebrows would connect into one hideous bushy line, and Ruby Rose knew she would get extreme punishment whether she did something wrong or not.

Ruby Rose couldn’t wait until she got old enough to punch Miss Molly Esther in the face and snatch off her wig, and run away. However, before Ruby Rose had a chance to seek revenge, Jeremiah had shown up at the back door to help her make her escape.

For four years, Ruby Rose had tried to break out of the prison the state made her call home. Besides the time living with Mama, it was the hardest sentence of her life.

Peering at Jeremiah out of the corner of her eye, she decided she liked having her big brother around and didn’t want to let him out of her sight.

Early in the afternoon, Jeremiah turned off the interstate onto a dirt road and put the car into “park.” Opening the trunk, he grabbed a few sandwiches and a can opener for the corned beef hash and baked beans. He handed the late lunch to Ruby Rose, then went back for the plates, utensils, Thermos, and cups.

When he and Ruby Rose finished their picnic, Jeremiah carefully put all the trash in a garbage bag. Walking around the car, he inspected the ground to make sure he wouldn’t be leaving any evidence of their presence behind. He threw the remains from lunch into the trunk, then searched around for his backpack. When he
found it, he removed the wooden box and got back into the driver’s seat.

“Ruby Rose, take a look.” Jeremiah opened the wooden box to reveal pouches made of soft yellow cloth with sharp edges bulging from the fabric. “These are the healing herbs and crystals I mentioned. These are what I refer to as my ‘small bags of miracles.’ ”

As he opened one of the bags, Ruby Rose’s eyes widened when she saw the sparkle.

“Gracious day!” she exclaimed, taking a few crystals from his hand. “These are the prettiest rocks I’ve ever seen.” She held the stones toward the ceiling to admire the brightly colored glass even more.

“They’re called crystals.” Jeremiah emptied the contents of the pouch onto a cloth he had draped over his hand.

“They look like you just found them in a treasure chest,” Ruby Rose said, with her jaw dropping at the sight of the gleaming gemstones.

“Well, I’m not a pirate, that’s for sure.” Jeremiah smiled. “I use these for healing.” He removed another pouch. “And these are medicinal herbs.” He handed her the
grobus benzoin,
to give her a quick lesson. “The popular name for this herb is jumbo bush. It makes hair and fingernails grow, sort of like gelatin does.” He put the pouch underneath her nose so she could not only learn to see the difference between the herbs, but know that each had its own distinctive smell.

“Smells like black licorice,” said Ruby Rose. “It makes me want some candy.”

Jeremiah handed her another pouch. “And this here is snakeroot.”

Ruby Rose caught a whiff of the contents of the pouch even before Jeremiah opened it, and she pulled back as if she were about to come into contact with rancid trash. Not only was the
odor strong, but thinking about the name of the herb she wasn’t completely certain there wasn’t a snake slithering somewhere inside the bag.

“Whew. That stinks.” Ruby Rose fanned the putrid air away from the pouch.

“Snakeroot is one of the most potent herbs of all. It’s got properties similar to penicillin.” Jeremiah handed Ruby Rose the pouch. She pinched her nose as if she were caught in the crossfire between two skunks.

“Even though it smells bad, this herb is pretty amazing. It can treat anything from asthma to respiratory infections.” Then he presented her with another pouch. “And this is prickly ash. It relieves toothaches.” He paused long enough for her to examine the plants, then added, “These are only a few of my herbs. I have dozens more inside my backpack and never leave home without them.”

Ruby Rose was quite impressed with her brother, but his introductory lesson to crystals and herbs didn’t compare to the presentation that was about to happen next.

“And this, my lovely lady, is for you. Merry Christmas.”

She watched as Jeremiah leaned over to put a fourteen-karat gold chain with a ruby pendant around her neck. No one had ever given her anything this precious and valuable before.

“I’ve been waiting to give this to you for a long time.”

Ruby Rose stammered, the words having trouble passing through her throat, tears forming in her eyes. “But… but I…I didn’t get you anything.”

“You didn’t know that you would see me,” Jeremiah offered. “You don’t need to get me a gift,” he added. “Besides, just being with you is Christmas present enough.”

Ruby Rose decided at that moment that wherever she and Jeremiah wound up wouldn’t matter as long as they were together.

There was no hell worse than living with Miss Molly Esther Reynolds. She had a raised burn mark on her arm that had turned into a darkened keloid to prove it.

Jeremiah returned his gemstones to the trunk and jumped back into the car, anxious to get back on the road. He turned the key in the ignition, but nothing happened. He tried starting up the car again and the 1964 Dodge Dart let out some loud knocks followed by a sickly sputter. Looking at Ruby Rose, Jeremiah took in a deep breath and let it out. Pumping the accelerator this time, he turned the key, held it firmly in place, and the car finally turned over, but not quietly. The loud knocking noise that sounded like a pipe banging against metal began again, and the more he pressed down on the gas pedal, the louder it got. He shifted the gear into “drive” and the car moved forward, then jerked to a stop. Frustrated, he pounded his hand against the steering wheel and muttered to himself. The only thing that prevented him from yelling out curses was the sight of his sister.

“Uh-oh,” Ruby Rose said, recognizing the sound of trouble.

“Let’s just sit and wait a few minutes,” Jeremiah offered, trying to relax. “She’s been driving for a long time,” he said, patting the steering wheel, attempting a more gentle approach. “She isn’t ready to get back on the road just yet.” He leaned into the seat and placed his hands behind his head. “It’s a chance for us to take a nap. Let’s relax and close our eyes for a minute.”