Chapter 16
Papa insisted on going a bit further south each day, driving through little smatterings of towns here and there. Those who even bothered to listen to a bunch of scrappy-looking folks sing till their throats was raw must’ve believed we was off our rockers. At the end those long days, I urged Papa to return to where I’d met Clayton, telling him water was convenient and besides, no one had chased us off like before. Momma was withdrawn most of the time, and when she did speak up, she’d comment on money spent driving hither and yon. Papa turned her off like a radio most days.
Clayton was always at the waterfall, and always entertaining. His confidence sat well with his good humor. I’d never had a friend like him before. Not even in school. These times with him was special, and the more I spent alone with him, the more I wanted to escape from our worries.
“Watch this!” he’d yell, and then do some ridiculous dive as if entertaining me was the most important thing he had on his mind. Afterwards, he’d get serious, and would practice till his mouth, fingertips and toes was blue. Clayton had more energy than anyone I’d ever seen. He couldn’t sit still a minute. Somehow, at some point, our time together would end with him chasing me around the woods, ducking behind trees only to spring out, grab me and swing me around. It was like a game, only I realized he was doing this so he could put his hands on me. I was more than happy to follow suit, and would run from him shrieking, until one day I got dizzy, and had to stop. I stooped over, my hands on my knees, I broke out in a cold sweat and feared I might throw up right at his feet.
“Wallis Ann? What’s wrong, you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“You sick? Should I go get your folks?”
“No! I’m fine. I didn’t eat much today.”
“What do you mean? Why not?”
I shrugged. “It’s nothing. I’m all right.”
“You don’t look all right. You’re white as the inside of a biscuit.”
I flipped my hand, dismissing his concern, wishing I had the biscuit he talked about.
He said, “You sure?”
I figured out a little lie. “Momma says I have iron poor blood.”
“Oh. Maybe you should eat more.”
Would, if I could.
Eager to move on, I asked him, “What do you want to do now?”
Clayton was still giving me the once-over.
“Sit. Tell me more about your family. You ain’t ever said much about them. You said you had a sister? What was her name, Laci?”
“Yes.”
“She older?”
Hesitant, I rubbed my hands across the tree trunk we sat on. “Yes, she’s older and she’s . . . different.”
“What do you mean?”
I don’t want to talk about Laci.
Clayton only looked curious, and I relaxed.
“She don’t talk. Never has. She can play any instrument you give her though. Piano, fiddle, banjo, dulcimer . . . no telling what else.”
“Really!” Clayton sounded impressed. “And you sing?”
“Yes.”
“Sing something.”
“Now? It would sound better with Laci and her fiddle.”
“So, bring her next time.”
I wished I hadn’t said that. I didn’t want to share Clayton. I didn’t want to admit it, but that was the truth of it. Had it been anybody else, I wouldn’t have minded bringing Laci. I liked having Clayton looking only at me, trying to get to know only me. There won’t no chance of him comparing the two of us if he didn’t never see her. No chance of me fading and disappearing into the background like usual. I was sure this is what would happen. He’d get to thinking about how pretty she was. He’d get to thinking, Well gee, Wallis Ann here, she’s kind of a plain old gal—if I liken her to her sister. Them thoughts was doing me no good, yet I couldn’t help but feel possessive about Clayton; he was my friend. His suggestion to bring her along, although innocent on his part when he had no idea of my inner turmoil, sort of riled me up and my voice was dismissive, hard when it come out.
“I don’t know about all that.”
Clayton leaned back a little studying my face, which was not helpful. “Okay, well sing then.”
I began singing parts of a song I liked, called “Careless Love” by Bessie Clayton. I’d heard it on the radio down at Dewey’s store a few times. When I finished Clayton sat quiet, staring down at his hands, and I couldn’t tell what he’d thought of it, good or bad.
“I reckon you didn’t like it none.”
“I did like it. A lot. Anyone say you ought to be singing on stage?”
“No.”
“Well, you should.”
“Shoot, I ain’t that good.”
Clayton snorted. “You ain’t good? You are too. I’m telling you. Don’t you believe me?”
“I don’t know. I guess so.”
We sat quiet for a few minutes. In truth his words made me happy, and though I’d been told before I had a good voice, coming from him was different.
Clayton broke the quiet spell when he said, “Look, I got to get back. If the show goes like last night, there’ll be a big crowd, and I got to help feed the miniature ponies, and all.”
“Miniature ponies?”
“Miniature ponies, a two-headed sheep, and a pretty big snake, to name a few of the animals the show’s got.”
Clayton’s world certainly won’t like mine.
I said, “It sounds like an odd place.”
“Sure, it’s a bit odd, but odd is ordinary at a carnival. Hey, tomorrow I’ll bring you some spun sugar.”
“What’s that?”
“You never had spun sugar?”
“ No. ”
“You wait. You’ll be begging me to bring you some every day. Will you be here?”
“I’ll try.”
“Hey, Wallis Ann?”
“What?”
“You remember what I said the other day.”
I shook my head, unsure of what he was getting at.
Clayton smiled. “You don’t?”
“Well, I don’t know. You say lots of things.”
“I said your smile reminds me of Janie Mae. You remember me mentioning her?”
The water rushed over the edge of rock, crashing onto the jagged ones below before settling into the cove. My blood pumped through me the same way, as if it was rushing through my veins only to collect into the center of my chest where my heart beat. Clayton looked at me with expectation, and I in turn considered him. I won’t quite sure what he wanted. We sat side by side on a fallen tree trunk and he unexpectedly leaned over and planted a kiss on my cheek. It caught me unawares, and I placed my fingers on the spot that tingled like a thousand butterflies had landed there. My eyes flicked in his direction. He was grinning, and I quickly looked away. For October, the air felt heated, not cool as it had been before.
Clayton cleared his throat. “Didn’t you like that?”
“I don’t know.”
Clayton spoke with his ever-present confidence. “You did. I can tell.”
I shook my head, denying it.
He won’t bothered at all. “Well then, I’ll have to do better next time.”
“If there’s a next time.”
Clayton didn’t look so sure anymore. It did me some good to know I could control this situation more than I’d realized, until he dipped his head down again and kissed me directly on my mouth, his arms going around me tight like he thought I might run. And I might would have, it scared me so bad. And then, something happened. I started kissing him back. I let him press his lips to mine, let him open my mouth with his, and do what I’d only read about in the romance magazine I’d kept secreted away from Momma’s eyes, forever lost now to the river water. I got dizzy for reasons altogether different than hunger. I pulled away, and covered my mouth with both hands.
Joe Calhoun. He unexpectedly invaded my thoughts the way Clayton invaded my mouth. I shouldn’t think about Joe. Especially since Papa couldn’t stand a Calhoun, no matter how nice he’d been. I forced the memory of him away. Clayton kissed me again, and it was like the first time had been to see if he liked it, and the second time to show me he did. After a minute or so, he pulled away.
He brushed a hand through his hair and said, “That was really something else,Wallis Ann. Maybe I should’ve done that earlier. You got some high color to them cheekbones now.”
All sorts of strangeness and wonder flooded my middle, crept along my legs and into other places I’d be embarrassed for him to know about.
Clayton stood to go. “I wished I could stay longer. Especially now.”
He reached down and grabbed my hands, pulling me up. I was unable to untangle my thoughts enough to speak.
I located my voice and managed a reasonable sentence. “I need to get back too.”
Clayton said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”
I nodded dumbly.
“You sure you’re all right?”
I nodded once more before I turned towards our camp.
He yelled like he done before. “Promise?”
I stopped long enough to raise my hand and yell, “I promise!”
The entire way to camp, I kept my fingers placed over my mouth, the scene rolling around in my head again and again. I hurried, and as I drew closer, I smelled the wood smoke, and worried about what kind of mood Momma would be in. Lately it changed like the weather. I didn’t hear Laci on her fiddle, or anyone talking. The campsite seemed too quiet. I broke through the cover of trees and spied Momma sitting in the truck while Papa sat by the fire. Laci stood off by herself, holding her fiddle tight, not playing, not even plunking on the strings.
I slowed to a walk and made my way over to sit with Papa while glancing over my shoulder at Momma. “Papa?”
He didn’t lift his head or answer.
“Papa.”
Nothing. I went to Momma. When she seen me at the window of the truck, she shook her head. I left them alone, went to the fire and lay down. My belly growled, and funny little black pinpoints floated in front of my eyes. Laci come over and set herself opposite of me, feet tucked against mine. She held on to her fiddle, and seemed to drift off quick. I remained awake, my gaze shifting between my parents. Something must have happened while I was gone and there was a feeling of guilt for not having been here, as if I could have done anything about it. Momma stayed in the truck overnight, and Papa did nothing about it. It had to be cold not being near the fire. They each took their positions and nobody was giving in.
The next morning, Momma was by the fire and she had her say. “I’m tired of this endless charade. We need to find real work. If you won’t, then I will.”
Papa refused to look at Momma. After a minute, he stomped over to the truck and left. I trusted he’d return with something, if only to prove he could look after us. I spent the morning doing what I always do, gathering wood and boiling water. Afterwards, I sat by the fire, warming myself, trying not to think about how hungry I was. Papa’s absence give me expectations and I hoped he wouldn’t disappoint us. There won’t much talking between me and Momma. Laci sat snugged against me, head on my shoulder, or hand holding mine, or leaning on me in some way. Her clinging sent an odd feeling through me like I’d been crammed into a tight space. It made me want to get away. I stood, and Laci jumped to her feet too.
I said, “Stay here with Momma.”
Momma spoke, her tone sharp. “What are you about, Wallis Ann?”
“I’m going to the waterfall.”
“You’ve been every day we’ve been here. There can only be so much exploring. What all is so interesting in them woods?”
I’d never lied to Momma, or kept anything from her before.
I said, “Nothing. It’s just nice there.”
Momma said, “There’s plenty of them at home. You never cared much about going off to see one.”
Her questioning set off a feeling of guilt, and I was afraid my face would betray my words. I come up with a different sort of reason.
“I like to be alone sometimes.”
“Alone? In the woods? It’s not a good idea. Take Laci with you.”
“Momma, there’s nothing for her to do.”
“Wallis Ann, soon as you moved, she jumped up. I was going to tell you the other day to take her along only you took off before I realized it. Take her with you. This gallivanting off alone isn’t a good idea.”
Fearful Momma would stop me going altogether, I nodded, and said to Laci, “Well, come on then.”
Soon as we was out of sight of Momma, I started fussing at her, saying mean, hateful things.
“I wish I didn’t have to always have you hanging on. It’s not fair. Do you think it’s fair? You’re the oldest but I’m the one who always has to do more, or give in, and do things with you because you can’t—or won’t—do them on your own. Maybe you just don’t do them on purpose!”
I frowned at her, waiting to see how these words registered, if at all. Laci slowed down. I mean she moved so slow, I wanted to get behind her and shove her down the path. I stomped ahead, acting like I didn’t care if she followed or not. A minute later, I regretted what I’d said. I’d never spoken a sharp word to Laci. What was wrong with me? I stopped and turned around.
“I’m sorry, Laci. I didn’t mean it! I’m hungry. I’m always hungry! Ain’t you hungry too?”
The words I’d said sat heavy as rocks, and when I’d spoken them, I might as well have actually hurled a few at her. Laci seemed to ignore me and studied the new surroundings. With a big sigh, I grabbed her hand again, and after a few minutes, we come to the log where Clayton and I sat the day before.
I said, “Sit here with me, Laci, I’ll tell you a secret.”
I kept hold of her hand, and sat while she made up her mind. Soon her body, warm and sweaty, lay against me. I felt a thickening in my throat, and I cleared it.
“You know what happened yesterday, Laci? This is a big secret. I’m going to tell you about it like it’s a story. You like stories, right?”
I proceeded to detail how I met Clayton. Who he was, what he looked like, and what he did with the traveling show. I pointed at the waterfall, and described how he leapt from the falls. I told her he was going to bring some spun sugar today. I didn’t tell her he’d kissed me. That was too much of a secret thing, and besides, what did Laci think about most of the stuff I babbled on about anyway? I wanted to hold on to it, a secret I could keep tucked away like how you might hide money, or something else you consider valuable.
I talked more about the spun sugar. “He said it tastes like candy. We like candy, right, Laci?”
Right then I heard a hoot, like an owl calling. It was Clayton’s signal. I hooted back, and Laci grabbed at my shoulder, her fingers digging in.
“It’s okay. It’s Clayton, the person I was telling you about, my new friend.”
Clayton walked around the bend, and when he seen Laci, he stopped like he won’t sure if he should approach us or not.
I motioned at him and called out, “This is Laci!”
He come forward, the look on his face was one of interest, although he stood some ways from me, polite, more quiet than usual.
He scratched his head, and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Pleased to meet you, Laci.”
She shifted away from him, even though he won’t anywhere near her.
Clayton held out a paper sack to me. “I got you some a that spun sugar. It’s flattened a bit, but it’ll still taste good.”
He stepped closer, and handed me the sack. I opened the bag and looked inside. It smelled like cake, and it looked a lot like the cotton we’d seen in the fields, only pale pink. I was puzzled by the look of it.
He said, “Here, pinch off a piece like this.”
He reached in and pulled some off. He popped it into his mouth, and opened it to show me it was gone, in seconds.
“It melts fast in your mouth, like snow melts in your hand.”
I pulled off a small piece, and put it in my mouth. My eyes flew open in surprise at the fuzziness that lasted only seconds and left a lingering sweetness. I got another piece, even bigger. My stomach rolled in appreciation.
“This is so good! Laci, here, try some!”
I plucked another wad and put my hand to Laci’s mouth, intending to place it on her tongue. Clayton watched this with interest.
“Can’t she eat on her own?”
Laci grabbed my wrist, and snatched the spun sugar from my fingers and popped it between her lips. Her mouth moved a little, and she dug into the sack for another piece.
Clayton smiled and spoke to her directly. “You liked it, eh? It was good, won’t it?”
He sat on the log beside me, and Laci hopped up. She stepped over it, and faced away from us, towards our camp.
Clayton said, “She don’t like me much, I don’t think.”
“It’s okay. It takes her getting used to a stranger. Thank you for the spun sugar. It’s really good.”
I held the sack out to him.
“No, you keep it, it’s for you.”
“Thank you.”
I held on to it, and there was an awkward silence, something we’d not suffered from before.
I said, “If you want, you can go on and practice. I told her what you do. It’ll be fine.”
Clayton looked at the fall. “So. She understands, she just don’t talk?”
“We think so.”
He seemed subdued. I got off the log to follow him.
I turned to my sister. “Laci, I’m going to stand there so I can see. You want to watch too?”
She didn’t move. I shrugged my shoulders, a little bit of that earlier aggravation seeping in again. I moved to the spot where I could watch, looking over my shoulder now and then to see what she was doing. She’d gone to rocking. I focused on Clayton, who was practicing doing his dive, which always scared me something fierce.
I said, “Laci, come watch Clayton practice.”
She moved her head the other direction like she was listening for something and ignored me. I sighed and let her be. Clayton dove time and again. I applauded and cheered him on, and soon my worry over Laci eased. I sort a forgot she was with me. My heart beat fast as I tried to imagine how it would feel to stand where he did and jump. I wondered how he’d ever had the nerve to do it the first time.
Clayton held up one finger, meaning last one. That was when I remembered Laci, wishing she would come watch, and when I looked back to coax her over, the log was empty.
I run towards it, stopped and spun in circles, yelling, “Laci! Laci!”
A crow cawed, the hoarse sound eerie, and it echoed until it was swallowed up in the silence of the woods around me. I rushed back to see Clayton looking up at the spot where I usually stood. I motioned frantically with my hands. I waited until he climbed out of the water, and then I went back to the edge of the woods, calling her name. He was by my side in seconds.
I cried out, “She’s gone! She’s done this before, not in a long time though.”
“Where would she go?”
“I got no idea! Our camp is a good ten minutes away.”
I twisted my hands, frantically looking about.
Clayton said, “You go that way, and I’ll go in this other direction. Come back to this spot every few minutes until we find her.”
“Okay.”
I took off and he did too. I kept calling her name, hoping she’d appear. I regretted what I’d said to her on the way here even more. Laci probably seen this little adventure like a betrayal. I spoke hateful to her, and then put her in direct contact with a stranger. Maybe it had been my yelling and carrying on while Clayton dove, behavior she’d never seen out a me.
In the middle of a thicket, I turned in a circle. “Oh, where are you?”
I could hear the panic in my own voice, and after a few minutes, all I could do was return, hoping maybe Clayton had found her. Except would she even let him get near her? Would she run from him and make things worse by getting hurt? I come to the log we’d sat on and there was no one there.
I yelled, “Clayton!”
No answer. I didn’t wait. I went back into the woods again, going a little further. I come to another waterfall, revealing the land was uneven, and this water fell onto a group of jagged rocks. There was so many dangers, and it made me hurry back to the other fall, all the while looking for a flash of bright hair. I got to imagining all sorts a bad things. I mashed my hand against my mouth and pictured telling Momma and Papa that Laci was lost in the woods. That’s when I heard footsteps along the forest floor, creating a crackling sound like breaking bones. Clayton led the way with Laci on his heels. I was dumbfounded. She followed behind him, meek as a lamb. I sank onto the log, my relief causing my legs to feel like jelly. I stared at my sister.
Now she was back, and not hurt, I got aggravated. “Laci? Why’d you do that? Why’d you run off?”
Laci, head down, scurried behind me and put her hands on my shoulders. I twisted out of her grasp, and she dropped her hands in front of her, clasping them. Her fingers was reddish in color. She’d been eating some sort of berries, and Clayton held them in his hand.
“She was eating these, raking them off the branches and cramming them into her mouth. They’s silverberries, and all right to eat.”
Clayton’s gaze was quizzical. Embarrassed, my words come out full a sarcasm. “I know what they are.”
He said, “Things are pretty bad for y’all, ain’t they?”
I shrugged. “We’ve seen better days, that’s for sure.”
“Listen. I mentioned your family and the singing to Johnny Cooper. He said he’d be willing to listen. Might sign y’all up to join. Now’s the time as he’s looking new acts.”
“Papa ain’t ever going to consider doing such as that.”
Clayton stared. “You make it sound like a traveling show is something bad.”
Uncomfortable, I said, “It ain’t that.”
“What then?”
“I can’t see him agreeing, is all.”
“It ain’t a bad deal. Johnny would pay some of the take, and you’d get meals, and a place to sleep. The show provides tents for performers and workers to stay in.”
“I don’t know.”
“Ask him. All you got to do is ask.”
“I’ll think about it. Papa’s got his way of doing things.”
Clayton said, “Johnny’s looking a new act is what I’m saying, so now’s the time.”
It did seem like the answer, only it won’t our way of living. A traveling show? It seemed foreign, too outlandish. After me and Laci left, I thought about Clayton’s suggestion on the walk back. Papa might would consider the idea. How could working in a traveling show be any worse than what we was doing now?