Read Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers] Online
Authors: With Hope
Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers] (5 page)
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Henry Ann turned away and allowed the tears to trickle down her cheeks.
“I wasted a whole week up there when I could have been here with him.”
“He wanted you to go. He told me so. He said that you needed to do what you could for your mother—for your sake, not hers.”
“He’s like . . . that.”
“Is there someone you want to come stay with you?”
“My . . . half sister is here.”
“You have no other relatives here?”
“None that I want.”
“There’s something else I want to tell you. Last week Ed came to town. He drew some money from the bank. He had me figure what my fee would be right up to the last and he paid me. He also paid Elmer over at the funeral home. He said he figured that the bank was due to go busted, and he wanted his bills paid before it went under.”
Henry Ann choked back a sob. “He knew his time would be soon, didn’t he?”
“Yes. He worried about you being left with Johnny and the girl, if you brought her back. I see that you did.”
“I must tell him not to worry—”
“You need to see a lawyer, Henry Ann. Those two kids carry Ed’s name even if he didn’t father them. You may have to share the inheritance with them.”
“Daddy already thought of that, Doctor. He put the land in my name long ago. What little he had in the bank was in his name. I doubt there’s any of that left.”
“He was making it as easy for you as he could. Your daddy was quite a man.”
“I know—”
“I’m going to have to leave for a while—”
“Oh, but—”
“I’ll be back in a couple of hours. He should sleep while I’m gone.”
“Will I get to talk to him . . . again?”
“I don’t know if you’d want to, Henry Ann. During the night, the cancer . . . Well I won’t go into that. His condition has worsened considerably. If he goes off the morphine, he’ll be screaming with pain. I can keep him under until the end if that’s what you want.”
“I . . . don’t want him to suffer.”
“I’ll check in at the office, then I’ll be back.” The doctor placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
Henry Ann sat down on the porch and watched him turn his car around in the middle of the road and head back for town. It was all so . . . unreal. She should be down in the garden forking up potatoes or picking beans. Instead she was sitting here, wringing her hands, waiting for her father to die. Nothing would ever be the same again. All her life she had had him to depend on. Soon she would be alone.
Childhood memories flooded her mind.
Swing me, Daddy. Swing me higher.
Hold on tight, babe.
Daddy, guess what? Miss Brown said I had a voice like a bird. She chose me to sing at the Christmas party.
I’ve been tellin’ you that all along.
I’m sorry I put too much salt in the corn bread.
It’s all right, honey. Feed it to the chickens. We won’t have to salt the eggs when we cook ’em.
Ah . . . Daddy, you’re funny.
Not as funny as you, freckle-face.
Thank you, Daddy, for the new shoes and the button hook. I’ll be the only girl in school with red shoes.
The screen door slammed, jarring Henry Ann from her thoughts.
“Is this enough peas?” Isabel held out the pan.
“Don’t slam the door!”
“How’d I know the old thing would slam? Is this enough peas?”
“I guess it . . . is.” Henry Ann stood. The doctor’s car pulled to a stop in front of the house and a large woman got out. A blue cloth was tied around her head and a dark gingham granny dress hung to her ankles.
“Thanky for the ride,” Aunt Dozie called, and came through the gate as the doctor turned his car around in the middle of the road and again headed back to town.
Henry Ann went down the steps to meet her. Dozie dropped a bundle to the ground and opened her arms.
“I knowed it. I knowed it. I knowed it when I saw de doctor’s car go by comin’ dis way. I said, Dozie, it’s time to gets yore body on down de road. I was comin’, chile, when Doctor turn ’round ’n’ brung me.”
She folded Henry Ann to her ample breast and held her while, for the first time, Henry Ann gave way to tears and cried as if her heart would break. After a while she pulled away.
“How did you know, Aunt Dozie?”
“Honey, yo’re daddy come tol’ me a while back that ya’d be needin’ me. He told me again last week after he been to de doctor. Lawsy, I hates it, chile. But it’s God’s will, and we gots to endure.”
“He told you that he—?”
“He say to me, Dozie, ya took care of my babe when she was little bitty. She love ya. She gonna need ya when I’m gone. And here I is, chile, fer as long as ya want me.”
“I want you, Aunt Dozie. You and Daddy are the dearest things in the world to me.”
“We’s goin’ to get through dis, chile. With God’s help, we gets through it.”
With their arms around each other they walked up onto the porch. Isabel eyed the woman’s round black face with suspicion.
“This is Dozie Jones, Isabel. I’ve known her all my life. She took care of me when I was little.”
“Lucky you. I took care of myself.”
“Hello, girl. What ya got dere? Hummm . . . fresh peas. Day be mighty good eatin’ cooked with taters.”
“Then cook ’em.” Isabel shoved the pan into Dozie’s hands.
“Come on in, Aunt Dozie.” Henry Ann took the pan of peas from the surprised woman. “Doctor Hendricks said Daddy would sleep for a couple hours.” In the kitchen, she set the pan on the table, took Isabel’s arm, and pushed her out onto the back stoop. When they were away from the door, she spun her around and faced her. “I’m going to say this one time. If you are rude or sassy to Aunt Dozie again, I’ll put you on the bus and send you out of here so fast you’ll think you’re in a tornado. Understand?”
Isabel jerked her arm free. “She’s colored, ain’t she? Ya can cozy up to her, if ya want. I ain’t lowerin’ myself to cuddle up to . . . no colored trash.”
“It’s a matter of opinion what’s trash and what isn’t. She came as a friend. I’m warning you. One nasty word to her and out you go!”
“I ain’t sure ya can do that.” A cunning look came over the girl’s face making it hard to believe she was only fifteen. “My name’s Henry same as yores even if ya do got it twice. Mama said she named ya Henry to get back at the old man for puttin’ ya in her belly. Who’s to say the old man didn’t make a visit to Mama now and then. They was still married, wasn’t they?”
Henry Ann looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. She had a sly smile on her face and a crafty look in her eyes. It took all Henry Ann’s willpower to keep from slapping her face. Henry Ann remembered the muttered words her mother’s last lover had said on the day of the burial when Isabel had shown no sign of grief.
“The girl’s trouble. She ain’t got no conscience at all.”
At the time Henry Ann hadn’t thought much about the statement. Now she wished she’d had more conversation with the man.
“Yes, they were married, Isabel. Papa believed in keeping his marriage vows. Mama didn’t. Get it through your head right now . . . you have no claim here.”
“We’ll see.” Isabel tossed her head. “Me’n Johnny’s got as much right here as you have.” She stepped off the porch and walked out into the yard toward the outhouse.
* * *
Leaving Henry Ann free to sit beside her father’s bed, Aunt Dozie quietly and efficiently took over the work. She cleaned the kitchen, started a batch of bread to rise, put potatoes on to boil with the peas, and ran the milk through the separator. She sang softly while she worked.
“Sw . . . ing low, sweet char . . . i . . . ot—
Comin’ for ta carry me ho . . . me.
The sound was comforting to Henry Ann. When she was small, Aunt Dozie would sit in the old rocking chair, take her on her lap, and sing to her. She had been a young woman then, widowed before she could have children of her own. She had focused her motherly love on Henry Ann and that love was returned.
A few months before, when Dozie’s mother died, Ed Henry had taken a smoked ham and a peck of potatoes to the house to feed the mourners. Henry Ann and her father were the only white people at the burial in the cemetery behind the small Free Baptist Church. She was not surprised that he would confide in Aunt Dozie.
She left his bedside and went to the kitchen, where her dear friend sat in a chair working the dasher up and down in the churn. She placed her hand on Dozie’s shoulder.
“It’s good to have you here, Aunt Dozie.”
“Where else would I be when my babe need me?”
“What’ll I do? I don’t know if I can cope with Isabel and Johnny.”
“Ya will. Ya’ll knows whats to do when de time come.”
“Isabel is sly and sneaky. Johnny is just irresponsible. I’m afraid of what’ll happen if he gets thick with the Perrys. They’re the biggest bootleggers in the county. I don’t know why the sheriff doesn’t do something about them.”
“Ya ain’t the boy’s mama. He be a man now. Old enough to fight in a war if there was one. Ya jist do de best ya can, but don’t take no sass off ’em. Dey get de upper hand and dey run ya to de ground. See’d it done many a time.”
Henry Ann heard a horse nicker and went to the door. Johnny and Pete Perry were putting their horses in the fenced area attached to the cow lot. Ed had given Johnny the black-and-white pinto a few months after he arrived. The boy had taken to riding as if he were born to it. Henry Ann had come to believe that the horse was the only thing in the world that Johnny loved.
As Henry Ann watched, Isabel came around from the front of the house and went toward them. They leaned against the corral rails and eyed her. Under their gaze she began to swing her shoulders and skinny hips to match her steps. She lifted a hand to her hair and tucked one side behind her ear. It was obvious that she was enjoying the male attention. Her mother’s lover’s words came back to Henry Ann.
The girl is trouble.
The girl is trouble.
Henry Ann went back to look in on her father. He was lying so still that her breath caught with fear. Then she saw the slight rise and fall of his chest, and his hand twitched. She eased down into the chair beside the bed, and after a while she began to pray.
“Dear God, please make his passing peaceful. He’s been such a good man. He’s worked hard. Never cheated anyone, nor broke the law. He was kind—”
Loud talk and boisterous laughter broke the silence. Henry Ann jumped to her feet and hurried to the kitchen. Johnny and Pete Perry were horsing around on the porch. Isabel, her arm around a porch post, watched with a broad smile.
“I’ll have to learn ya how to Indian wrestle. You’d take to it like a duck to water considerin’ ya got that wild blood in ya.” Pete’s loud voice reached into every corner of the house.
“Ya couldn’t learn me nothin’, ya . . . bunghead!”
Johnny escaped into the kitchen, allowing the screen door to slam behind him. He looked around the kitchen and grinned at Henry Ann. He was a slim, handsome youth with the straight black hair and inky black eyes that suggested that the unknown man who had fathered him might have been an American Indian
“That Isabel sure grew up. Didn’t know her till she told me who she was.”
“Keep your voice down. Daddy’s sleeping.”
“Isabel said old Ed was ’bout to kick the bucket. Is that right? He’s not been so full a piss and vinegar lately, but I never thought—”
Henry Ann took two quick steps, drew back her arm, and slapped him across the face. An almost uncontrollable rage washed over her.
“Don’t you dare be disrespectful of him!” she hissed, low-voiced. “My daddy put a roof over your head, fed you, gave you work so you’d have a little money, all because he thought it the decent thing to do. He had no obligation to take you in.”
Johnny was stunned. He lifted his hand to his cheek and looked at her as if he’d never seen her before.
“You ungrateful cur! He was sick!” Henry Ann continued heatedly and almost choked on the words. “He was . . . sick and you went off and left him to do the chores all by himself. You told me you’d help him drag deadwood in from the lower woods. You’re . . . you’re a sorry excuse for a human being, and I’m ashamed . . . totally ashamed that some of the same blood that flows in your veins flows in mine.”
Johnny stood as still as a stone.. He had grown lately and stood two or three inches taller than Henry Ann but she was too angry to notice.
“Where were you while he was lying there . . . sick?” Henry Ann demanded.
“At Perry’s.”
“Delivering bootleg whiskey?”
Ignoring her question, the boy asked quietly, “Do you want me to leave?”
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