Chapter 25 Part Two-13

See that house up on the hill there? Less us stop and get some water.' No, we better wait. Well water gives you typhoid.' I already had typhoid. I had pneumonia and a broken leg and an infected foot.' I remember.' Yeah, Mick said. Me and Bill stayed in the front room when we had typhoid fever and Pete Wells would run past on the sidewalk holding his nose and looking up at the window. Bill was very embarrassed. All my hair came out so I was bald-headed.' I bet were at least ten miles from town. Weve been riding an hour and a half—fast riding, too.' I sure am thirsty, Mick said. And hungry. What you got in that sack for lunch?'

Cold liver pudding and chicken salad sandwiches and pie.' Thats a good picnic dinner. She was ashamed of what she had brought. I got two hard-boiled eggs—already stuffed—with separate little packages of salt and pepper. And sandwiches—blackberry jelly with butter. And paper napkins.' I didnt intend for you to bring anything, Harry said. *My Mother fixed lunch for both of us. I asked you out here and all. Well come to a store soon and get cold drinks.' They rode half an hour longer before they finally came to the filling-station store. Harry propped up the bicycles and she went in ahead of him. After the bright glare the store seemed dark. The shelves were stacked with slabs of white meat, cans of oil, and sacks of meal. Flies buzzed over a big, sticky jar of

loose candy on the counter. ?What kind of drinks you got? Harry asked. The storeman started to name them over. Mick opened the ice box and looked inside. Her hands felt good in the cold water. I want a chocolate Nehi. You got any of them?' Ditto, Harry said. Make it two.' No, wait a minute. Heres some ice-cold beer. I want a bottle of beer if you can treat as high as that Harry ordered one for himself, also. He thought it was sin for anybody under twenty to drink beer—but maybe he just suddenly wanted to be a sport. After the first swallow he made a bitter face. They sat on the steps in front of the store.

Micks legs were so tired that the muscles in them jumped. She wiped the neck of the bottle with her hand and took a long, cold pull. Across the road there was a big empty field of grass, and beyond that a fringe of pine woods. The trees were every color of green—from a bright yellow-green to a dark color that was almost black. The sky was hot blue. I like beer, she said. I used to sop bread down in the drops our Dad left. I like to lick salt out my hand while I drink. This is the second bottle to myself Ive ever had.' The first swallow was sour. But the rest tastes good.' The storeman said it was twelve miles from town. They had four more miles to go. Harry paid him and they were out in the hot sun again. Harry was talking loud and he kept laughing without any reason.

Gosh, the beer along with this hot sun makes me dizzy. But I sure do feel good, he said. I cant wait to get in swimming.' There was sand in the road and they had to throw all their weight on the pedals to keep from bogging. Harrys shirt was stuck to his back with sweat. He still kept talking. The road changed to red clay and the sand was behind them. There was a slow colored song in her mind—one Portias brother used to play on his harp. She pedaled in time to it. Then finally they reached the place she had been looking for. "This is it! See that sign that says PRIVATE? We got to climb the bob-wire fence and then take that path there—see!'

The woods were very quiet. Slick pine needles covered the ground. Within a few minutes they had reached the creek. The water was brown and swift. Cool. There was no sound except from the water and a breeze singing high up in the pine trees . It was like the deep, quiet woods made them timid, and they walked softly along the bank beside the creek. Don't it look pretty.' Harry laughed. What makes you whisper? Listen here! He clapped his hand over his mouth and gave a long Indian whoop that echoed back at them. Come on. Lets jump in the water and cool off.' Arent you hungry?'

OK Then well eat first. Well eat half the lunch now and half later on when we come out' She unwrapped the jelly sandwiches. When they were finished Harry balled the papers neatly and stuffed them into a hollow tree stump. Then he took his shorts and went down the path. She shucked off her clothes behind a bush and struggled into Hazels bathing-suit The suit was too small and cut her between the legs. "You ready? Harry hollered. She heard a splash in the water and when she reached the bank Harry was already swimming. Dont dive yet until I find out if there are any stumps or shallow places, he said. She just looked at his head bobbing in the water. She had never intended to dive, anyway. She couldn't even swim. She had been in swimming only a few times in her life—and then she always wore water-wings or stayed out of parts that were over her head. tell Harry. She was embarrassed. All of a sudden she told a tale: I dont dive any more. I used to dive, high dive, all the time.

But once I busted my head open, so I cant dive any more. She thought for a minute. It was a double jack-knife dive I was doing. And when I came up there was blood all in the water. But I didnt think anything about it and just began to do swimming tricks. These people were hollering at me. Then I found out where all this blood in the water was coming from. And I never have swam good since.' Harry scrambled up the bank. Gosh! I never heard about that.' She meant to add on to the tale to make it sound more reasonable, but instead she just looked at Harry. His skin was light brown and the water made it shining. There were hairs on his chest and legs. very naked. Without his glasses his face was wider and more handsome. His eyes were wet and blue. He was looking at her and it was like suddenly they got embarrassed.

The waters about ten feet deep except over on the other bank, and there its shallow.,Less us get going. I bet that cold water feels good.' She wasn't scared. She felt the same as if she had got caught at the top of a very high tree and there was nothing to do but just climb down the best way she could—a dead-calm feeling. She edged off the bank and was in ice-cold water. She held to a root until it broke in her hands and then she began to swim. Once she choked and went under, but she kept going and didnt lose any face. She swam and reached the other side of the bank where she could touch bottom. Then she felt good.

She smacked the water with her fists and called out crazy words to make echoes. Watch here!' Harry shimmied up a tall, thin little tree. The trunk was limber and when he reached the top it swayed down with him. He dropped into the water. Me too! Watch me do it!' "That's a sapling." She was as good a climber as anybody on the block. She copied exactly what he had done and hit the water with a hard smack. She could swim, too. Now she could swim OK They played follow the leader and ran up and down the bank and jumped in the cold brown water. They hollered and jumped and climbed. They played around for maybe two hours. Then they were standing on the bank and they both looked at each other and there didnt seem to be anything new to do. Suddenly she said: Have you ever swam naked?'

The woods was very quiet and for a minute he did not answer. He was cold. His titties had turned hard and purple. His lips were purple and his teeth chattered. I—I dont think so.' This excitement was in her, and she said something she didn't mean to say. I would if you would. I dare you to.' Harry slicked back the dark, wet bangs of his hair. OK' They both took off their bathing-suits. Harry had his back to her. He stumbled and his ears were red. Then they turned toward each other. Maybe it was half an hour they stood there—maybe not more man a minute.Harry pulled a leaf from a tree and tore it to pieces. We better get dressed.' All through the picnic dinner neither of them spoke. They spread the dinner on the ground. Harry divided everything in half. In the deep woods they could hear no sound except the slow flowing of the water and the songbirds. Harry held his stuffed egg and mashed the yellow with his thumb. What did that make her remember? She heard herself breathe. Then he looked up over her shoulder. "Listen here. I think youre so pretty, Mick. I never did think so before. I dont mean I thought you were very ugly—I just mean that------' She threw a pine cone in the water. Maybe we better start back if we want to be home before dark.' No, he said. Lets lie down. Just for a minute.' He brought handfuls of pine needles and leaves and gray moss. She sucked her knee and watched him. Her fists were tight and it was like she was tense all over. Now we can sleep and be fresh for the trip home.' They lay on the soft bed and looked up at the dark-green pine clumps against the sky. A bird sang a sad, clear song she had never heard before. One high note like an oboe —and then it sank down five tones and called again. The song was sad as a question without words. I love that bird, Harry said. I think its a vireo.' I wish we was at the ocean. On the beach and watching the ships far out on the water. You went to the beach one summer—exactly what is it like?' His voice was rough and low. Well—there are the waves. Sometimes blue and sometimes green, and in the bright sun they look glassy. And on the sand you can pick up these little shells. Like the kind we brought back in a cigar box. And over the water are these white gulls. We were at the Gulf of Mexico—these cool bay breezes blew all the time and there its never baking hot like it is here. Always------' Snow, Mick said. Thats what I want to see. Cold, white drifts of snow like in pictures. Blizzards. White, cold snow that keeps falling soft and falls on and on and on through all the winter. Snow like in Alaska.' They both turned at the same time. They were close against each other. She felt him trembling and her fists were tight enough to crack. Oh, God, he kept saying over and over. It was like her head was broke off from her body and thrown away. And her eyes looked up straight into the blinding sun while she counted something in her mind. And then this was the way. This was how it was. They pushed the wheels slowly along the road. Harrys head hung down and his shoulders were bent. Their shadows were long and black on the dusty road, for it was late afternoon. Listen here, he said. Yeah.' "We got to understand this. We got to. Do you—any?" I dont know. I reckon ndt.' Listen here. We got to do something. Lets sit down.' They dropped the bicycles and sat by a ditch beside the road. They sat far apart from each other. The late sun burned down on their heads and there were brown, crumbly ant beds all around them. We got to understand this, Harry said. He cried. He sat very still and the tears rolled down Ms white face. She could not think about the thing that made him cry. Ant stung her on the ankle and she picked it up in her fingers and looked at it very close. Its this way, he said. never had even kissed a girl before.' Me neither. I never kissed any boy. Out of the family.* Thats all I used to think about—was to kiss this certain girl. I used to plan about it during school and dream about it at night. And then once she gave me a date. And I could tell she meant for me to kiss her. And I just looked at her in the dark and I Couldn't That was all I had thought about—to kiss her—and when the time came I couldn't.' She dug a hole in the ground with her finger and buried the dead ant. It was all my fault. Adultery is a terrible sin any way you look at it. And you were two years younger than me and just a kid."No, I wasn't. I wasn't any kid. But now I wish I was, though .' listen here. If you think we ought to we can get married—secretly or any other way.' Mick shook her head. I didnt like that. I never will marry with any boy.' I never will marry either. I know that And Im not just saying so—its true.' His face scared her. His nose quivered and his bottom lip was mottled and bloody where he had bitten it. His eyes were bright and wet and scowling. His face was whiter than any face she could remember. Things would be better if only he would just quit talking. Her eyes looked slowly around her—at the streaked red-and-white clay of the ditch, at a broken whiskey bottle, at a pine tree across from them with a sign advertising for a man for county sheriff. She wanted to sit quiet for a long time and not think and not say a word. Im leaving town. Im a good mechanic and I can get a job some other place. If I stayed home Mother could read this in my eyes.' Tell me. Can you look at me and see the difference?' Harry watched her face a long time and nodded that he could. Then he said: Theres just one more thing. In a month or two IT send you my address and you write and tell me for sure whether youre all right.' ?How you mean? she asked slowly. He explained to her. All you need to write is "OK" and then TO know.' They were walking home again, pushing the wheels. Their shadows stretched out giant-sized on the road. Harry was bent over like an old beggar and kept wiping his nose on his sleeve. For a minute there was a bright, golden glow over everything before the sun sank down behind the trees and their shadows were gone on the road before them. She felt very old, and it was like something was heavy inside her. She was a grown person now, whether she wanted to be or not. They had walked the sixteen miles and were in the dark alley at home. She could see the yellow light from their kitchen. Harry's house was dark—his mother had not come home. She worked for a tailor in a shop on a side street. Sometimes even on Sunday. When you looked through the window you could see her bending over the machine in the back or pushing a long needle through the heavy pieces of goods. She never looked up while you watched her. And at night she cooked these orthodox dishes for Harry and her. Listen here------ he said. She waited in the dark, but he did not finish. They shook hands with each other and Harry walked up the dark alley between the houses. When he reached the sidewalk he turned and looked back over his shoulder. it was white and hard. Then he was gone. This here is a riddle, George said. I listening.' Two Indians was walking on a trail. The one in front was the son of the one behind but the one behind was not his father. What kin was they?' Less see. His stepfather.' George grinned at Portia with his little square, blue teeth. His uncle, then." You cant guess. It was his mother. The trick is that you dont think about a Indian being a lady.' She stood outside the room and watched them. The doorway framed the kitchen like a picture. Inside it was homey and clean. Only the light by the sink was turned on and there were shadows in the room. Bill and Hazel played black-jack at the table with matches for money. Hazel felt the braids of her hair with her plump, pink fingers while Bill sucked in his cheeks and dealt the cards in a very serious way. At the sink Portia was drying the dishes with a clean checked towel. she looked thin and her skin was golden yellow, her greased black hair slicked neat. Ralph sat quietly on the floor and George. was trying a little harness on him made out of old Christmas tinsel. This here is another riddle, Portia. If the hand of a clock points to half-past two------' She went into the room. It was like she had expected them to move back when they saw her and stand around in a circle and look. But they just glanced at her. She sat down at the table and waited. Here you come traipsing in after everbody done finished supper. Seem to me like I never will get off from work.' Nobody noticed her. She ate a big plateful of cabbage and salmon and finished off with junket. It was her Mama she was thinking about. The door opened and her Mama came in and told Portia that Miss Brown had said she found a bedbug in her room. To get out the gasoline. Quit frowning like that, Mick. You're coming to the age where you ought to fix up and try to look the best you can. And hold on—dont barge out like that when I speak with you—I mean you to give Ralph a good sponge bath before he goes to bed. Clean his nose and ears good.' Ralphs soft hair was sticky with oatmeal. She wiped it with a dishrag and rinched his face and hands at the sink. Bill and Hazel finished their game. Bills long fingernails scraped on the table as he took up the matches. George carried Ralph off to bed. She and Portia were alone in the kitchen. Listen! Look at me. Do you notice anything different? Sure I notice, Hon.' Portia put on her red hat and changed her shoes. Well—?' Just you take a little grease and rub it on your face. Your nose already done peeled very bad. They say grease is the best thing for bad sunburn.' She stood by herself in the dark back yard, breaking off pieces of bark from the oak tree with her fingernails. It was almost worse this way. Maybe she would feel better if they could look at her and tell. Her Dad called her from the back steps. "Mick! Oh, Mick! ? Yes, sir. The telephone." George crowded up close and tried to listen in, but she pushed him away. Mrs. Minowitz talked very loud and excited. My Harry should be home by now. You know where he is?' *No, maam.' He said you two would ride out on bicycles. Where should he be now? You know where he is? No, maam, Mick said again. N. ow that the days were hot again the Sunny Dixie Show was always crowded. The March wind quieted. Trees were thick with their foliage of ocherous green. The sky was a cloudless blue and the rays of the sun grew stronger. Jake Blount hated this weather. He thought dizzily of the long, burning summer months ahead. He did not feel well. Recently a headache had begun to trouble him constantly. He had gained weight so that his stomach developed a little pouch. leave the top button of his trousers undone. He knew that this was alcoholic fat, but he kept on drinking. Liquor helped the ache in his head. He had only to take one small glass to make it better. to him as a quart. It was not the liquor of the moment that gave him the kick—but the reaction of the first swallow to all the alcohol which had saturated his blood during these last months. A spoonful of beer would help the throbbing in his head, but a quart of whiskey could not make him drunk. He cut out liquor entirely. For several days he drank only water and Orange Crush. The pain was hke a crawling worm in his head. He worked wearily during the long afternoons and evenings. He could not sleep and it was agony to try to read . The damp, sour stink in his room infuriated him. He lay restless in the bed and when at last he fell asleep daylight had come. A dream haunted him. It had first come to him four months ago. He would awake with terror—but the strange point was that never could he remember the contents of this dream. Only the feeling remained when his eyes were opened. fears at awakening were so identical that he did not doubt but what these dreams were the same. He was used to dreams, the grotesque nightmares of drink that led him down into a madmans region of disorder, but always the morning light scattered the effects of these wild dreams and he forgot them. This blank, stealthy dream was of a different nature. He awoke and could remember nothing. But there was a sense of menace that lingered in him long after. Then he awoke one morning with the old fear but with a faint remembrance of the darkness behind him. He had been walking among a crowd of people and in his arms he carried something. That was all he could be sure about. Had he stolen? Had he been trying to save some possession? Was he being hunted by all these people around him? He did not think so. The more he studied this simple dream the less he could understand. Then for some time afterward the dream did not return. He met the writer of signs whose chalked message he had seen the past November. From the first day of their meeting the old man clung to him like an evil genius. His name was Simms and he preached on the sidewalks. The winter cold had kept him indoors, but in the spring he was out on the streets all day. His white hair was soft and ragged on his neck and he carried around with him a womans big silk pocketbook full of chalk and Jesus ads. His eyes were bright and crazy. Simms tried to convert him. Child of adversity, I smell the sinful stink of beer on thy breath. And you smoke cigarettes. If the Lord had wanted us to smoke cigarettes He would have said so in His Book. The mark of Satan is on thy brow. . Repent. Let me show you the light." Jake rolled up his eyes and made a slow pious sign in the air. Then he opened his oil-stained hand. I reveal this only to you, he said in a low stage voice. Simms looked down at the scar in his palm. Jake leaned closer and whispered: And theres the other sign. . For I was born with them.' Simms backed against the fence. With a womanish gesture he lifted a lock of silver hair from his forehead and smoothed it back on his head. Nervously his tongue licked the corners of his mouth. Jake laughed.