Fireflies In December Part 19

"You know I let him stay there on late days, Luke. There ain't nothin' wrong with Jeb." Daddy said those words very determinedly, as though he were vowing Jeb's innocence in his simple words. I couldn't be as sure as he was, though. The way I saw it, Daddy didn't know all there was to know about Jeb Carter. "Thanks for helpin' my girl, Jeb," Daddy said. "We'll be seein' you tomorrow."

I watched Jeb walk off, my mind full of suspicions. The lean-to was attached to the very shed where I'd been stuck, and there wasn't a single soul who had been better able to lock me in than Jeb had been.

While Mr. Tinker went back to fixing the truck, Daddy and Luke got me settled inside the house with Gemma, who we found in front of one of the windows, her face pressed closely to the gla.s.s. "Land's sake!" she shouted when we came in, sounding like her momma. "I was nearly faintin' in here wonderin' what happened! What was all the screamin' about? Jessilyn, you okay?"

"I'm okay, Gemma. Just got scared, is all."

"Scared by what? You see a snake or somethin'?"

I glared at her. "I ain't afraid of no snakes!"

"Well then, what?"

"She'll explain it to you in a minute, Gemma," Daddy said. "Let's get her settled down first."

Gemma obeyed and went to get me some cold water. She came back with a gla.s.s mostly full of ice with a little water in it. "Cold helps you calm down," she told me. "Crunch some ice."

I did as she said, and loath to be the center of attention again as I had been so often that summer, I told Daddy they should get back to fixing the truck. "Ain't no reason to hang around starin' at me," I said, pulling the tape from my pocket and handing it to him. "Gemma's with me."

"Truck can wait. But Otis wants to borrow my good saw, and I'd better get it for him before he goes. He was searchin' for it in the barn when you started screamin', and he more'n likely forgot all about it himself. You sure you'll be okay, Jessilyn?" Daddy asked, clearly concerned.

"Yes'r. I'm fine."

"Maybe I should stay with her," Luke said. "If I'm in here, then you can finish up on the truck. You boys could do it without my help."

"You'll just be outside," I said, trying not to be too convincing. "But if you want to, Luke . . ."

Gemma put a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing at me, but I figured if I was going to have such a trying night, I may as well get something out of it.

"Fine idea," Daddy said. "That would ease my mind a bit if you stayed inside, Luke."

So Luke, Gemma, and I sat in the den sipping on tall gla.s.ses of sweet tea, the Tinker boys' snoring as our background music. I told Gemma the short version of what had happened, and I could tell that she believed I'd been locked in. She hadn't been oblivious to the spite I'd received, and I think she suspected there was even more to it than what she'd noticed. But she didn't say anything about it. She just took my hand in hers and held it. Maybe she thought if she held on to me tightly enough nothing bad could happen to me.

Gemma had turned the radio off when she heard my screaming, so Luke turned it back on, and the three of us sat there listening. I put my head on a pillow and listened to the music and the rhythmic tapping of Luke's boot on the floor.

Peace had begun to flood back into my spirit until the front door opened and Momma entered all fl.u.s.tered.

Daddy followed her. "Sadie. Now, Sadie, darlin'," he was saying, "tell me what happened."

Momma rushed up the stairs without answering. I could hear her breath coming in hiccups, and I knew she was crying but trying not to let it show. Daddy went after her, taking the steps two at a time.

Luke, Gemma, and I exchanged glances. I laid my head back down and closed my eyes, my heart sinking.

I didn't need to hear Mrs. Tinker's quiet and quick explanation to us as she gathered the boys' things to know what had upset Momma. "Seems people have longer memories than I thought. And we'd made it through the first bit of the night so well too. . . ." She noticed my unhappy face and said, "Oh, your momma'll be fine after a while. She's just feelin' people's smallness, is all. Thank you for takin' care of the boys."

Mr. Tinker piled both sleeping boys into his arms and nodded at us, and the family left us just that quickly.

Luke said nothing, but he smacked his knee so hard I figured it had to have stung something fierce. Gemma squeezed my hand more tightly, and we sat in silence, no doubt wondering how long life could go on like this. Or for that matter, how long we we could go on like this. could go on like this.

Chapter 17.

Momma wasn't too talkative about that night of the sewing meeting. "People can be strange" was all she said to me the next morning when I questioned her. "Ain't no accountin' for it." She put her hand lightly on my cheek and said, "Ain't nothin' I can't take care of. Don't you worry your pretty little head about me." And that was the end of the discussion; I could see it on her face.

I sat down at the table next to Gemma and swirled my eggs around with my fork. The clock chimed halfway, announcing six thirty. "Daddy already in the fields?"

"Got a lot of work to do today. He was out before sunup." Momma sat at the table with us and urged me to stop playing with my food and eat. "Growin' girls need food for energy."

I nodded and picked up a piece of bacon, crunching it without enjoying it.

"Daddy tells me you had a mishap at the shed last night, Jessilyn," Momma said in between blows to cool her tea. "Said you got locked in."

"Yes'm, I did. No big deal," I told her, not wanting to make things harder for her than they already were. I could see her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and I figured she'd cried herself to sleep last night. I didn't want to upset her more.

"Sure it's no big deal? He said you were pretty scared."

"It was just dark, is all. I couldn't see nothin'. Makes a body scared."

Momma added some more sugar to her tea and stirred it, clanging the spoon from side to side. "Got you scared too, no doubt, Gemma. Hearin' that screamin' and all."

"Yes'm," Gemma replied. "Did my heart good to see them comin' back to the house."

"Well, I must say I'm glad I wasn't home," Momma told us. "I'd have been takin' a stroke hearin' that kind of screamin' from my girl like that. I don't know how I would have made it through."

"Weren't nothin'," I a.s.sured her. "Like I said, no big deal."

After breakfast, Momma sent me down to the fields with some iced tea for Daddy, but I found Jeb instead. I was uneasy the moment I came upon him. "Oh, it's you. I was lookin' for Daddy. I'll just go find him."

"He's gone to town quicklike, Miss Jessie. Seems he ran out of somethin' he needed to fix the back fence."

"I'll see him when he gets back, then," I said and turned away.

Jeb caught my arm. "Hold up. I gotta talk to you for a second."

I jumped away from him, wrenching my arm free.

My movements made Jeb turn worried, and he held his hands up in front of him. "Now, I ain't gonna hurt ya, Miss Jessie," he said in what seemed to be grave sincerity. "Honest. Just need to talk to you for a second."

I stood still, my shaky hand sloshing tea over the side of the gla.s.s. Despite my suspicions, and Luke's for that matter, I still found it hard to mistrust Jeb. I instinctively wanted to know what it was he needed to say. I looked around anxiously and said, "All right, but I ain't got long."

I stayed well away from him, and Jeb didn't try to get closer when he talked. "You know last night, when you got stuck in the shed?"

I nodded.

"Well, that was me that done it." He lowered his voice and glanced over his shoulder. "But you got to believe me. I did it for your own good."

Remembering the terror I'd felt in that shed, I had a hard time feeling anything but anger over what he was saying. "You? But why?" I asked, not sure I really wanted to know the answer.

Jeb rubbed the back of his sunburnt neck and said, "I can't rightly tell you that. You just got to trust me that I did it for your own good."

"I can't trust no one no more," I told him wearily. "Ain't a single soul I can trust."

"That's a frightful way for a body to think," he scolded gently. "You got your momma and daddy and Luke and Gemma . . . you got lots of people you can trust. And I think if you ask your daddy, he'd tell you that you can trust me too."

I gave his words a few moments thought, and then I backed away slowly. "No, sir. No, sir. Ain't n.o.body to trust, and that means you, too." I spilled the sweet tea onto the ground and ran, ignoring Jeb's calls to me.

When I got back to the house, I made sure to put on a brave face so no one would ask me what was wrong. It was a dull, still morning, and I found Gemma rocking listlessly on the tree swing.

"I'm bored," she told me. "Where you been? You ain't supposed to go off alone."

"I ain't alone in my own fields," I said. "Anyhow, Momma sent me to take some tea to Daddy, but he's gone to town."

"Well, we'd best find somethin' to do, else this'll be one fine, borin' day. Your momma says we ain't got any ch.o.r.es to be done today, and it's a day for bein' lazy."

"I don't feel like bein' lazy," I said.

"Neither do I, but what'll we do?"

After long thought, Gemma and I decided we would head over to Miss Cleta's. Since I'd been sleeping very little at night, I had read through her books in just a few days, and I wanted to exchange them for others. Knowing Walt had come upon me last time I ventured out alone, Gemma was determined I shouldn't stray far without her, so we walked through the ninety-degree heat together.

Miss Cleta was pleased as punch to see us, and we were glad we hadn't come too early to catch some fresh-baked goods. "About ready to get some popovers from the oven," she told us. "Hope you brought your sweet tooth with you."

No doubt we had, and we spent the next hour gathering books and eating sweets and milk. Around ten thirty, Miss Cleta clapped as though she'd come up with a fine idea. "This is my goin'-into-town day. Why don't you girls go home and get dressed on up, and we'll go in and have lunch together? How would you like that?"

"I don't know," I said, already nervous at the idea of meeting more ornery people in town. "Momma might not want us to."

"Oh, your momma's an understandin' woman. I'll bet she'll say yes."

"Well, Jessie may be able to go," Gemma told her adamantly, "but I got busy work to do."

I glanced at Gemma, who had told me barely an hour earlier that we had a lazy day ahead of us.

Miss Cleta took a long swig of milk, wiped her mouth daintily with her napkin, and stared hard at Gemma and then at me. "Just what is it you girls are really sayin'? You think I shouldn't take you to town for some reason?"

Gemma and I looked at each other.

"Well, is that it?" Miss Cleta tossed her napkin onto the table. "You think just because some people say white and colored don't mix, I have to listen? There any law that says that if most people believe somethin', it must be true? Is there? Because to my knowledge, there ain't no law in this country that says I can't do as I darn well please. And I darn well please to go into town with my two friends. The white one and and the colored one." the colored one."

"But there's bunches of trouble aimed at us these days," I exclaimed. "You don't know the half of it. You're liable to get in trouble yourself. We know what we got comin', but we don't want you gettin' hurt."

"Nonsense. I can take care of myself against the rabble in this town."

"I'd worry about it, Miss Cleta," Gemma said. "Ain't no way for me to have fun in town with you if I got to worry all the time about causin' you trouble."

"Now listen here. I ain't lived on this earth for seventy-five years to sit in my house cowerin' from human ignorance. I've certainly earned my right to do as I please around here within the law. And havin' lunch with you girls is within the law." Miss Cleta sat back and crossed her arms. "You girls think you're wrong for bein' friends?"

"No, ma'am!" we both shouted.

"You think colored people are less than white people?"

"No, ma'am!"

"Well then, enough talkin' about me. I'll be fine. The question is, do you girls have the nerve to go into town with me and stand up to all those people?"

"Me?" I asked, sitting up good and tall. "I got plenty of nerve. You ask my momma."

"Well then, prove it. You too, missy," Miss Cleta said to Gemma. "You two girls want to say you got nerve to stand up to people, then you got to prove it. Ain't no way to change the world for the better if you can't stand up for what's right when everyone else is wrong."

Gemma and I watched her ferocity with amazement, not uttering another word.

And that's how one o'clock in the afternoon found us stepping from Mr. Lionel Stokes' taxi cab in the center of town. Being a colored man himself, Mr. Stokes had done plenty of talking to Miss Cleta on our way into town, trying to persuade her to change her mind. As we exited his taxi, he shook his head. "Uh . . . uh . . . uh," we heard him grunt slowly. "Just askin' for trouble. That she is."

He hadn't helped calm our nerves any, but Miss Cleta seemed as serene as ever as we marched toward the Callo-way Inn, where she planned to have us dine. We drew plenty of stares on that short journey. Men peered from behind their newspapers. Ladies whispered behind gloved hands. I trained my eyes on Miss Cleta's flower-covered blouse and walked ahead stoically.

"Miss Cleta," the hostess cried with a clap of her lily-white hands, "we ain't seen you here in an age. What a delight!" She stopped dead when she saw me and Gemma. It was like the smile just melted off her face like hot wax. "My, my," she gasped, stricken.

"I'd like a table for myself and my two friends," Miss Cleta said politely.

"Why, I'm so sorry to say, but . . . well . . . I believe we are full today."

"Full? On a Thursday?"

"Yes, ma'am. You know, we get some workin' folks in here durin' the week."

Miss Cleta eyed her for a second and then walked past her to peer into the dining area. She returned and put both hands on her hips. "Looks to me that you got a total of five people in that dinin' room. You tellin' me the rest all had to visit the restrooms at the same time?"

"Miss Cleta, please. Do be discreet!"

"And I would say the same to you, young lady. Do be discreet and show your customers to a table."

The hostess came forward and covered her mouth like we wouldn't hear her when she whispered loudly, "Miss Cleta, we don't have coloreds in our restaurant."

"Do you have a sign in your window?" Miss Cleta asked.

"Well, no, ma'am, but it's just understood. . . ."

"I understand nothin'. All I know is I'm good and hungry, and I want to eat."

The hostess just stood there, a menu in her hand, stumbling over words that only came out as random syllables.

"Oh, heaven's sake, just give me that," Miss Cleta said, s.n.a.t.c.hing the menu from her hand. "I'll do it myself while you get your tongue back in your head." She grabbed our arms and ushered us to a table square in the middle of the restaurant.