Precious Bones (27 page)

Friday morning on the bus ride to school I filled Little Man in on the visit with Mr. Charlie. “I swear, Little Man, Mr. Charlie was almost shaking with fear when he told Nolay about Peckerhead coming over and threatening him.”

“But why would ol’ Peckerhead want to scare Mr. Charlie off his land?”

“Probably because those Reems brothers wanted to sell it. Like those Yankee men wanted to try and buy up our land.”

“Still don’t make much sense if you ask me.”

“Little Man, not much of anything is making sense anymore. Sometimes I feel like I’m on some kind of roller-coaster ride. Everything just goes up and down. You never know what’s going to happen next.”

Little Man had that question mark sitting in the middle of his forehead when he looked at me. But he did nod in agreement.

Saturday morning when I woke up I looked over at the wishbone with the blue ribbon tied around it, still lying on top of my dresser. I picked it up and took it in the kitchen. Mama had just sat down with a cup of coffee and a Lucky Strike.

“Mama, you remember I made this for Mr. Speed? I was going to give it to him for a present. Do you think it would be all right if I gave it to his mama and daddy?”

Mama tilted her head. “I think that is a wonderful idea. I’m sure they would appreciate it.”

I walked to the Last Chance. As usual, Mr. Ball stood behind the front counter. I went up and placed the shiny turkey bone on the counter. “Mr. Ball, I made this for Mr. Speed as a present, and, well, I thought you and Miss Evelyn might like it. It was going to be something we could wish on together.”

Mr. Ball leaned on the counter with both elbows and picked up the wishbone. It was the first time I had seen him since the funeral. Dark half-circles sat below his deep-set eyes. “Why, thank you, Bones. I know Speed would have enjoyed this.” He continued to look at the bone as if it were speaking to him. Then he said, “Bones, let’s me and you take it over and give it to his mama.”

I followed Mr. Ball to the little room where Miss Evelyn spent most of her time when she was in the store.

A long, thin lightbulb attached to the top of the ceiling bathed the small room in a harsh glare. On one side sat a desk stacked with papers, a bulky adding machine, and a typewriter. On the opposite side a tall rectangular filing cabinet stood like a tin soldier.

When we entered the room, Miss Evelyn swiveled around
on her chair, a look of surprise on her face. Mr. Ball walked over and held the wishbone out to her. “Evelyn, little Bones here made this for Speed, as a gift. And now she wants to give it to you and me. Wasn’t that thoughtful?”

Miss Evelyn cautiously reached for the wishbone, as though it might be a hot coal. I noticed her face had the same tired look as Mama’s when Nolay was in jail, only more so. She held the little bone in her hand and ran her fingers across the blue ribbon. I saw her eyes begin to glisten.

I looked up at Mr. Ball, but his face was blank as a biscuit. I turned back to Miss Evelyn. “I sure am sorry if I made you sad. I just thought … well, I’m not sure what, but I guess I thought you might like it.”

Miss Evelyn blinked, as if seeing me for the first time. She said, “Why, Bones, you haven’t made me sad at all. This is a lovely gift, and I appreciate you bringing it to us. I know Speed would have loved it.”

“Yes, ma’am, I think Mr. Speed would have liked it too. He used to talk to me a lot about how to make your wishes come true. I figured we weren’t going to break it apart, we were just going to use it to make wishes on. He always had the wisest things to say. I think of him pretty much every day.”

“I’m sure you do, Bones,” Miss Evelyn said softly. “Of course you do, just like we do.” She looked up at me, a thin smile on her lips. “Bones, I think I need a little break from work. If you have time, would you like to come home with me? I have something I want to share with you.”

“To your home?”

“Why, yes, it’s just round back.”

“Yes, ma’am, I know. I think I have time to do that.”

The Ball house was located behind the Last Chance. It was a large white house, with a front porch and windows all around. An even whiter picket fence stood guard around the entire property. I could see the front of the house when I passed by on U.S. 1 and the side of it when I turned up the county road and headed home, but that was all I had ever seen.

Miss Evelyn straightened up some papers on her desk, swiveled around, and stood up. Her rusty-brown hair was swirled on top of her head, and she stood a full bun taller than Mr. Ball. She draped her arm around my shoulders. The two of us walked out of her little office room, past Mr. Ball, through familiar aisles packed with fishing and hunting supplies. There was a door with a sign painted above it in black letters:
Private No Entry
. She pushed the door open and we stepped out onto a narrow sidewalk that ran along the white picket fence.

We passed through a gate and followed a line of square stepping-stones to a set of stairs. Miss Evelyn walked up them and opened the screen door for me. “This is actually the back door to our kitchen, but coming from the store, it’s easier to enter this way.”

I was dazzled by the brightness. The floor, as well as the countertop, was covered in lemon-yellow linoleum. On one side of the counter stood a white enamel stove; on the other side, past a huge double sink, was a white enamel refrigerator. Cabinets with glass doors lined the walls. In the middle of the
room was a table covered with a white tablecloth with embroidered yellow flowers.

She led me through the kitchen, down a small hallway, and out into the living room. A large brown rug edged with green flowers and twisted vines sat on top of a glossy wooden floor. Curtains with the same design as the rug hung at the front window.

A small table with a radio on top sat between two overstuffed chairs facing a matching couch. A larger table sat in front of the couch. Framed pictures nearly covered the walls, and hanging above the fireplace mantel was a huge mirror with gold edges. Across the room, by the front door, stood a magnificent black piano. On top of the piano was a photograph of a young soldier, a small wooden box, and, in a glass case, the triangular flag.

I stopped in the doorway. Miss Evelyn allowed me to stand and drink in the strange beauty of this room. She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Bones, have you ever played a piano?”

“Piano? No, ma’am, I never have. Do you play?”

“Yes, I do. Actually, when I was younger I went to college and studied music in hopes of one day becoming a music teacher. But sometimes life has a way of leading us down roads we never knew existed.”

I pointed toward the photograph on the piano. “Is that Mr. Speed?”

“Why, yes, it is. Would you like a closer look?”

We crossed the glossy floor and stood in front of the piano. Miss Evelyn stood tall and elegant, like women I had seen in
movies. She placed my wishbone between the photograph and the small wooden box. When I looked closer, I saw that the two medals that had been pinned to Mr. Speed’s uniform were sitting in the little box.

Miss Evelyn picked up the photograph and held it out to me. “He was such a handsome young man, and so proud to march off to fight for his country.”

I pointed to the small wooden box. “What are those medals, Miss Evelyn?”

She replaced the photograph and picked up the box. “This one is a Purple Heart, for when he was wounded in battle. And this one is a Silver Star. He was awarded this for bravery under enemy fire.”

“Bravery under enemy fire … you mean he was a war hero? Like John Wayne?”

Miss Evelyn looked at me and smiled. “Oh yes, Aaron was a hero. He saved a lot of people’s lives by sacrificing his own.”

“Aaron?”

“Yes, that was his name, although most people called him Speed.” As the memory settled in, a smile spread across her face. “As a young boy, he could run like the wind.”

“I have heard the story about how fast he could run, but I never knew Aaron was his name. I never knew he was a real war hero.”

“Oh, Bones, he would blush if he heard you say that.”

Miss Evelyn’s hand drifted absently to the piano, and she lifted the lid. Like rows of white teeth, the keys grinned up at us. As her slender fingers walked across the keys, the sound
reached out and surrounded me like bees kissing flowers in the springtime. She turned to me and said, “Bones, would you like a cup of tea?”

“A cup of hot tea? I ain’t never—I mean, I have never had hot tea.”

“Well, let’s go to the kitchen and fix a lovely pot of tea. When I was a little girl growing up in New York, my mother and I shared many lovely tea parties together.”

I followed Miss Evelyn back into her lemon-yellow kitchen. She stopped by the table and said, “Bones, have a seat while I make us a pot of tea.”

I sat down and watched as she put a kettle of water on the stove and placed two delicate white cups on the table. I felt like I was at the movies. After she filled our cups with tea, she sat down across from me and said, “Bones, I am so glad you stopped by. This brings back some very fond memories.”

I watched real close as Miss Evelyn gently held her cup handle between two fingers. I tried to copy her just right.

“Yes, ma’am, I am too. And, Miss Evelyn, you said you grew up in New York. Were you born there?”

“Why, yes, Bones, you didn’t know that?”

“No, ma’am. But if you’re from New York, that would make you a Yankee, and that would make Mr. Speed half a Yankee.” Once the words were out of my mouth I wanted to grab them and stuff them back in. “Sorry, Miss Evelyn, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.”

Miss Evelyn closed her eyes and laughed out loud. When she opened them again, I noticed they were the same soft
brown sprinkled with gold flakes as Mr. Speed’s. She placed a hand on my arm and said, “Thank you, Bones, I haven’t laughed since … well, I haven’t laughed in a while, and it certainly feels good to know that I still can.”

“If you’re from New York, Miss Evelyn, how did you get here?”

“One winter, on a whim, a friend and I decided to come to sunny Florida for a week’s vacation. Our car broke down along the highway, not far from here, and Mr. Ball came to our rescue. He was young and handsome and had a voice as sweet as honey. I guess you could say I was smitten by his country charm.”

“Did you just stay here and never go back to New York again?”

“Oh no, it took Mr. Ball a full year to convince me to move to this wild land. Being raised in the city, I was scared to death of the bugs and snakes and sounds of the night. But after I moved here, I was quickly overwhelmed by this land’s beauty and magic, and most of all, its lovely people.” She looked at me with a twinkle in her eye. “And although I am a Yankee, these generous inhabitants accepted and welcomed me into their midst.”

I had never heard anyone speak the way Miss Evelyn did, so elegant-like, except in movies.

After we finished our cup of tea, Miss Evelyn asked if I would like to see Mr. Speed’s room. She stood up and led me into one of the bedrooms. The room smelled familiar, almost like the inside of Mama’s cedar chest. A four-poster single bed
sat in the middle of the room. Two sides of the walls were lined, from floor to ceiling, with shelves overflowing with books.

Miss Evelyn sat on the edge of the bed and patted a place next to her. A long dark brown dresser stood across from the bed. On top of the dresser were a wooden car, a yo-yo, a pocketknife, and, perched at the end, the green baseball cap that me and Little Man had given Mr. Speed last Christmas.

I looked around at the volumes of books. “The only time I’ve ever seen this many books in one place was in the school library. Mr. Speed sure must have loved to read.”

“He was nearly born with a book in his hand. I do believe he read something every day of his life. Of course, after his injury, he couldn’t keep his focus on the words, so his father and I read to him.”

We sat for a few moments in silence, each of us absorbed in our own thoughts of Mr. Speed. Then Miss Evelyn continued. “Before he went away, he told us when he came back from the war, he was going to go to college and become a teacher. He said he didn’t want to follow in his daddy’s footsteps and run the Last Chance. He wanted to be a schoolteacher and teach children about the wonders of the world.”

“He wanted to be a teacher?”

“That was his dream.”

“Miss Evelyn, you know what? I think his dream came true. Every time I talked with Mr. Speed I learned something new, and Little Man says the same thing. I do believe he really was a teacher.”

Miss Evelyn bit down on her lip. “Thank you, Bones. It
means so much for me to hear that. Aaron loved his visits with you and Little Man.” She pointed to a row of books. “You see those? They are all about the history and nature of Florida. Nearly every night, his father or I would read him something about Florida so he could share it with you.”

“Really? He would study on things so he could share them with me?”

“Oh yes, Bones, he so looked forward to your visits. You were very special to him.”

“I didn’t know that. If I had known that, I would have come to visit him more.”

“You did just fine. He could remember all the details about Florida that we read to him, but he had a difficult time with other information. At times it was very frustrating for him.”

“Yes, ma’am, sometimes I had to listen real hard to what he was telling me. But he knew just about everything there was to know about Florida. I learned so much from him. And he was just a pure comfort to be around.”

Miss Evelyn smoothed the front of her skirt with both hands and slowly stood up. “I should get back to the store soon. Mr. Ball will be wondering if we disappeared.”

She stepped up to the brown dresser and picked up a small framed photograph. It was of a young soldier in uniform, standing straight and proud. “Aaron would have so loved your wishbone gift. I know he would have wanted you to have this in return.” She handed me the photograph. “Bones, this is from Aaron … Mr. Speed, to you. It was taken just before he got on the ship to leave.”

I stood up. “Thank you kindly, Miss Evelyn,” I whispered.