Authors: Ruth White

Weeping Willow (8 page)

BOOK: Weeping Willow

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Nessie slept peacefully.

Finally we crawled into bed, Phyllis and I. It was about two, I reckoned. Phyllis curled up to me, and put her dirty feet on me, and I didn’t mind much. It was very cold, and we went to sleep fitting together like two spoons.

FOURTEEN

Sometime during the night, Nessie crawled into bed with us and snuggled up to my back so that I was wedged between her and Phyllis like a bug in a rug. We were sleeping soundly and didn’t hear everybody else tumbling around making Christmas-morning noises all over the house. Then our door flew open and Beau bellowed, “Come on, lazybones, it’s Christmas —holy hot dog!”

I felt Nessie’s head shoot up and her tail started wagging. She made the whole bed shake.

“Shut the door!” Phyllis said.

Beau stepped inside and closed the door.

“You’re gonna be in trouble!” he said, grinning wickedly.

“You open your big mouth, and I’ll tell you-know-what,” Phyllis said.

Beau’s grin faded.

“Well, how you gonna keep that cow hid?” he said.

Nessie slid off the bed and went to him. He started petting her.

“It ain’t so bad,” he said, referring to Nessie.

Then the door flew open again, and in walked Vern.

“Come on down and see what Santy brung you!” he hollered, loud with Christmas cheer. He had a drink in his hand. “What the hell … ?”

Nessie, not knowing any better, went to Vern, wagging her tail.

We didn’t say anything. Vern’s face took on a puzzled look. Our game was up.

“Daddy, if you take Nessie back to Mr. Horn, I will die,” Phyllis announced.

Vern looked at her.

“I will die,” she repeated.

Nessie came back to the side of the bed.

“But before I die, I will not ever speak to you again.”

Beau giggled, then quickly clamped his hand over his mouth. Luther appeared in the doorway.

“Uh-oh,” he said.

“I will squeal so loud …” Phyllis continued.

“Just shut up,” Vern said at last. “Whose big idea was this anyway?”

“Mine,” Phyllis said.

“You lie!” Luther said. “You know it was Tiny’s!”

“It was my idea, and I will squeal until I die if you take her back,” Phyllis said.

“You can start any time now,” Vern said. “’Cause she’s going back.”

Well, Phyllis did start squealing. She squealed so long and so shrill that Nessie tried to crawl under the bed, but she was too big. Beau and Luther abruptly left the room and Vern stood there. He didn’t know what to do. Directly, he turned and left the room, too.

Phyllis shut up immediately and turned to me and grinned a big toothy grin. She was amazing.

Nessie jumped back up on our bed between us.

Then Mama came in.

“Now, girls,” she said. “Y’all know this won’t do. You might just as well take that dog back now.”

“No,” Phyllis said emphatically. “Never.”

Mama put her hands on her hips and glared at Phyllis. Phyllis sat up in bed, put her own hands on her hips, and glared right back. All I had to do was lie back and watch. It wasn’t half bad having Phyllis on my side for a change, I thought, fighting my battles for me.

Phyllis won that round. Mama left the room in defeat. We tumbled out of bed and put on our britches and sweaters. I put on socks and shoes, too, but Phyllis, of course, went barefooted as usual. I didn’t mention it. No need to stir her up now. Taking Nessie along, we went down to open our presents. There was a foot of snow outside, and the hills were brilliant and sparkling in the morning sun.

There were presents piled all over the place, and suddenly I was excited. Nessie bounced around like she had good sense.

Such a Christmas! I thought.

Mama silently handed out presents. She was mad. Vern was nowhere to be seen and I guessed he was next door talking to Mr. Horn.

I got a white Banlon cardigan from Mama and a black wool pleated skirt from Vern, a package of ponytail holders in assorted colors from Phyllis and a pocketbook from Beau and Luther. I was opening up my last package when Vern walked in and stood there looking at us in silence. He had his hands in his overall pockets, which meant he had something heavy on his mind. Everybody, even Nessie, got quiet and looked at him. He cleared his throat.

“Well, Phyllis, Tiny …” he said, and stopped.

“Did you talk to Mr. Horn?” Phyllis asked.

“Yes, I did,” Vern said. “And he wants his dog back right now.”

With that, Phyllis went into her squealing routine again. It was almost more than anyone could bear. Mama and I covered our ears, Beau and Luther cussed, but you couldn’t hear them over the din, Nessie wiggled behind the couch, and Vern looked pained. I felt a little sorry for him.

Suddenly he went to the fireplace, plucked the old Civil War musket off the wall, and marched back outside. Phyllis was shocked into silence, and a ringing reverberated where her screech had been. We all gaped at each other.

“What … ?”

“Do you reckon … ?”

“Naw, it can’t be.”

But it was. About two minutes later, Vern came back in empty-handed.

“Merry Christmas,” he muttered. “You got yourselfs a dawg.”

Phyllis flew into her daddy’s arms and covered him with kisses. I could only stand there in complete shock, afraid to believe.

“And you can’t thank the old man?” Vern teased me, grinning.

I looked at Mama and she was grinning, too. It was really true. Vern had traded his gun for Nessie. I kissed Vern on the cheek.

“Thanks.”

Then I went crawling behind the couch calling Nessie.

I volunteered to clean up the kitchen after breakfast while everybody else watched the Mormon Tabernacle Choir on the television. Nessie stayed right with me, half the time under my feet. Then Vern came in and poured himself another glass of bourbon.

“This is the best Christmas I ever had, Vern,” I said to him.

He put his arm across my shoulder.

“You’re growing up to be such a pretty thing,” he said. “You know I love you, Tiny.”

I giggled, feeling nervous and uncomfortable.

“I mean it,” he said seriously.

Then he kissed me on the cheek.

“I love you,” he said again.

FIFTEEN

There followed wonderful and happy days, close days for me and my sister. We spent all our free time together with Nessie, washing her in the bathtub when Vern was gone, teaching her tricks like fetch-if-you-feel-like-it, and most of the time she didn’t. “Sit” and “stay,” to Nessie, both meant roll over, and she did that perfectly. We sometimes laughed at her till we cried, and she laughed with us.

I found out Phyllis would do reasonable things like wear her socks and shoes if I was nice to her, and that Christmas morning when Nessie came to us was the last time we ever heard Phyllis squeal like a pig.

Sometimes on Sundays, Vern took us up on Ruby Mountain, where we ran and ran across the windy mountaintop. We holed up in the log cabin and did girl things like comb each other’s hair and paint each other’s fingernails.

We crept up under the weeping willow away from the world and made up stories about long ago and far away. And always between us there was Nessie, agreeable and lovable, swishing her tail. We brushed her and cleaned the burrs out of her coat, scratched her belly and kissed her nose. We spoiled her to pieces and she loved us.

In April the mountains came alive with color and sweet smells, with wild buttercups and lilacs, apple and cherry and dogwood trees, and all kinds of wildflowers.

Then one day I heard Phyllis talking on the phone to one of her classmates, and she said, “When I grow up I want to be just like my big sister, and I want to look like her, too.”

I was surprised and pleased. I looked at myself in the mirror and blushed a little. Yes, I had changed some for the better.

Still nobody called me up and asked me for a date. Bobby Lynn dated somebody different every weekend, and Rosemary started going steady with Roy Woodrow Viers, who played the tuba. You couldn’t have pried those two apart with a crowbar.

In May, I turned sixteen and the strawberries came on like crazy. You never saw the beat. Aunt Evie and Cecil Hess and all the little Hesses helped us pick for a share of the profits. Cecil loved to tease me about my ponytail. He would grab on to it and say, “Giddy up!” Aunt Evie would wink knowingly at me, but I laughed at her. I knew he was just being Cecil, as likable as always, and as sweet to Phyllis, Beau, and Luther as he was to his own brothers and sisters. Cecil was on the junior varsity football team that year, but the next fall, which would be our junior year, he was to move up to the varsity. Maybe by then I would be playing first clarinet.

About this time it was rumored that Mr. Gillespie had a girlfriend in a college in North Carolina, but I didn’t believe it. He wouldn’t. I still fantasized and wrote anonymous letters to him.

Then it was time for the second annual talent show. I felt so good I let Bobby Lynn talk me into entering with her. On a Friday after school we met in the auditorium with the other contestants for the first time to discuss what we were going to do. Only a few holler kids showed, but all the town kids were there—some singers and some pianists, some guitarists and some comedians.

There was also a four-piece rock group led by Geezer Coleman. Carole Ann Hudson was going to do a dramatic reading from
Anastasia
, and Lois Harmon was doing her baton routine with the fire on the ends and all. The Mountain Dew Drops, a bluegrass band, was there, and everybody was embarrassed for them because bluegrass music simply was not in style anymore.

But the one who worried me most was Connie Collins. Her act was tap and ballet, and she took dance lessons in Bristol every Saturday. Even though Connie was as dumb as a coal bucket, she was rich and she looked just like Marilyn Monroe. The Collinses had the grandest house in town because they owned the liquor store.

As for singing, Bobby Lynn whispered to me that I had no competition. Still, I wondered if I was good enough to beat all those town kids. What had I got myself into? When my name was called, I bolted clear out of my seat, and somebody giggled. My face went hot and Bobby Lynn stood up beside me.

“Tiny is going to sing,” she said sweetly. “I am going to accompany her on the piano. And I am going to yodel”

All eyes were on me, and I didn’t say a word. I felt so stupid and inferior. They’re smirking, I thought. They don’t think I can sing a lick.

“First rehearsal is Tuesday afternoon at three-thirty,” Mrs. Miller was saying. “Death is the only excuse I’ll accept, and then you better have a death certificate.”

Ha. Ha.

The meeting broke up, and we walked outside. It was such a perfect, perfect day, and the air smelled fresh and sweet. My spirits were lifted.

“Let’s walk down to the shop,” Bobby Lynn said. “You gotta see the new bathing suits. They are so cute!”

She was speaking of the Black Gap Style Shoppe on Main Street, where her mother worked. They had all the latest fashions from Bristol. The new county swimming pool was almost ready for its grand opening, and everybody was looking at bathing suits these days.

Mrs. Clevinger smiled at us when we went in the shop. I had met her at ball games. She was petite and dimpled like Bobby Lynn, and you wouldn’t believe she was almost thirty-five years old. The one thing wrong with her was her marital status, which was not respectable, if I could believe the rumors at school. Bobby Lynn seemed ashamed of whatever was going on in her house because she had never discussed it with me, but rumor had it that Mr. Clevinger had recently moved out. I didn’t know another soul who was divorced except Mama’s friend Dixie, and nobody with any sense would stay married to Dixie.

“Show Tiny the new bathing suits,” Bobby Lynn said to her mother.

“Oh, my goodness, yes!” Mrs. Clevinger bubbled. “That little pokey-dotted one. Won’t she be sweet in it?”

Bobby Lynn squealed, and they both giggled.

They were the cutest bathing suits I ever had laid eyes on, but the little pokey-dotted one Mrs. Clevinger mentioned was my favorite. In a minute I was behind the curtains trying it on. When I came out, Mrs. Clevinger and Bobby Lynn ooed and ahed. Then Connie Collins walked in. Without a word, she towered over me like a tree and looked down her nose.

I turned around and around in front of the mirror, almost afraid to believe my eyes. I had grown an inch or two taller, my hair was longer and shinier, it seemed, and I was rounder in all the right places. Why, I looked almost … well … nearly … why I did! I looked good! The suit was a strapless one-piece, blue with white pokey dots and these two cute little mines or the butt.

“You are gorgeous!” Bobby Lynn said.

I loved her.

“Well, I would take off those silly ruffles!” Connie said sharply.

Connie had the most beautiful clothes of anybody I knew, but there for a minute I would swear she acted like she was jealous. That tickled me more than anything, and I was bound and determined I would have that suit.

“Take the ruffles off? Goodness no!” Mrs. Clevinger said. “Those ruffles will be the main attraction at the new county swimming pool. You’re a doll, Tiny.”

Connie turned quickly and pretended to be very interested in a red sundress. Mrs. Clevinger winked at me, and Bobby Lynn giggled.

As it turned out, that bathing suit cost $9.98! That made me swallow hard, but I would have it. My strawberry money was tucked away in an old coat pocket in the back of my closet at home, and Mrs. Clevinger put the bathing suit on her own account till I could get the money to her.

I hired a taxi to take me home because I was too excited to wait the two hours for Mama and Vern to meet me, like we planned, at the A & P when they came to do the shopping. I couldn’t wait that long for Mama and Phyllis to see my new bathing suit.

The taxi driver was Rosemary’s cousin, Gary Dean Layne, and he tried to flirt with me on the way home. He was at least nineteen, and I sure wasn’t interested in anybody that old except Mr. Gillespie, but I was getting the big head. I wondered if I would ever feel inferior to anybody again. Gary Dean charged me only forty cents when it was supposed to be fifty cents. I bounded into the house calling for Mama and Phyllis, but nobody was there, not even Nessie.

Well, shucks, I thought, they must have all gone strawberry picking. I went upstairs and put on my bathing suit anyway. They would see me first thing when they got home. For a while I pranced around in front of the mirror singing into an invisible microphone, and dancing. Then I took ajar of peanut butter and ’nilla wafers from the kitchen and settled down to watch the last of
American Bandstand
. Justine was dancing the waltz with a new partner, and Johnny Mathis was singing a love song.

I closed my eyes.

Me and Mr. Gillespie are at the swimming pool on opening day. He volunteers to teach me how to swim. I know he is totally overcome by my new bathing suit. He suggests I enter the beauty contest next year.

When I heard the pickup coming up the hill, I thought it was everybody coming back from Ruby Mountain, but it was only Vern who walked in the door. He was swaying.

“Where’s Mama and the young’uns?” I said to him.

“Cecil drove ’em up in his daddy’s truck to pick strawberries,” Vern said, slurring his words.

He was drunker than usual for that time of day. I sat perfectly still, stared straight ahead at the television, and folded my arms across my chest, hoping he wouldn’t notice what I was wearing.

“I went to see my daddy,” Vern said. “He’s in the hospital.”

I still didn’t say anything, or move. Somewhere I could hear warning bells. Danger. Look out.

American Bandstand
went off. It was time for
Howdy
Doody.

“What’cha got on?” Vern said, and my heart dropped like a rock.

“Just a suit,” I said.

“Well, it’s new, ain’t it?”

“Sorta.”

“Stand up and let me look at it.”

“Oh, Vern …”

“Stand up!”

Obediently I stood up and held my arms rigidly to my sides, my palms cupping my thighs. I glanced at him, thinking if he would move out of the door I would run out and go up to Aunt Evie’s. But Vern was looking at me and he wasn’t moving at all.

“Hold your arms out and turn around,” he said.

I did as he said, feeling my face go hot with shame.

Oh, God …

On television, Buffalo Bob was saying, “Hey kids, do you know what time it is?”

And Vern grabbed me.

BOOK: Weeping Willow

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