Every Day After (2 page)

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Authors: Laura Golden

BOOK: Every Day After
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I nudged Ben with my shoulder. “You’re the one person who wouldn’t wear me thin.”

“No, Lizzie, I’m the only person
you
can’t wear thin.”

I reared back my fist, and if Ben hadn’t been Ben, I would’ve let it fly. He held up his hands in surrender. I’m a girl, but I sure as heck don’t hit like one, and Ben knew it. I stomped the mud off my shoes instead.

“I surely hope Ma finds a way to finish that quilt. Mrs. Martin’s supposed to give her five dollars for it. Without it, we’re likely gonna miss the mortgage again this month. Course, even with that money, making it still ain’t a sure bet.” The right corner of Ben’s mouth retreated into his
plump cheek. That meant one thing and one thing only: he was worried about something and he didn’t want to yap on and on about it. I let him be.

Mud squished beneath our feet and leaves rustled in the breeze. I tried my hardest not to think of Daddy in the quiet, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help wondering why he had to go, and why he hadn’t said good-bye.

It was little more than a month since he’d left, but it might as well have been an eternity. I didn’t know how much longer me and Mama could last without him. Like Ben, I’d already opened one overdue mortgage bill since Daddy left, but I felt sure he wasn’t gonna let me open another. He’d be back in time to save us from the bank. He had to.

I clutched my gold locket, rubbing its rough lines of engraving with my thumb: ELIZABETH CLAIRE HAWKINS 1876. Elizabeth Claire Hawkins—Daddy’s mama and my namesake. Daddy had shown me the locket only a few times over the years, but I’d memorized it the first time I’d laid eyes on it: a shiny golden oval with a face of delicate loops and swirls. Inside were tiny portraits of Grandmother and Grandfather wearing their most serious faces.

The locket was meant for my eighteenth birthday. Daddy said I had to earn it by growing into a fearless young woman worthy of the Hawkins name—just like Grandma. Well, it wasn’t my eighteenth birthday, and I was toting around more than a pound of fear, but here was the locket dangling from my neck. I’d inherited it a
little over six years too soon, on the morning Daddy disappeared. He’d left a note for Mama, the locket for me. He didn’t have to tell me what it meant to get it early. I knew. He was telling me it was time to prove my worth, and he expected me to do it by passing the hardest of tests: I had to hold everything together until he came home. I couldn’t let him down.

Daddy had replaced the pictures of Grandmother and Grandfather, and I pictured the two faces now tucked inside—one wrinkled and weathered from thirty-seven years on this earth, the other much smoother, much younger. Both heads were topped with white-blond hair so thin light shone right through it. Mama always said Daddy and me didn’t have hair, we had down.

Ben let out a soft whistle beside me. I looked at him. His face had relaxed. We were the same, Ben and me, both trying our hardest not to think about having to play the cards we’d been dealt. We knew they weren’t good hands, and it wasn’t fair. He let one last rock fly, then stuffed his slingshot into his back pocket as we entered the schoolyard.

 
Two
 

After Honour and State Follow Envy and Hate

Nearly every student older than six was out in front of the school. The older ones stood talking in their usual groups of three or four; the youngest took turns sliding down the smooth boulders jutting up from the ground beside the school. Only two or three of the shyest were already making their way inside.

I pulled off my shoes and scraped them through the grass. Clumped mud smeared across the ground. I couldn’t get the shoes perfectly clean, but I reckoned I’d known that before I’d started trying. I put them back on and followed Ben as we ducked and dodged around the groups. I spotted Erin Sawyer peering at us from around Scott McClain’s blubbery belly. His massive body, the largest in school and him only an eighth grader, dwarfed Erin’s tiny one.

“Excuse us,” Ben mumbled to the dirt as he edged past Scott on his way over to Erin.

I refused to excuse myself to a blamed brat, especially one who made a never-ending habit of calling my daddy a hobo. I’d already taught him a lesson once, and he could bet his last nickel I’d do it again. I scowled as I passed. To my delight, Scott grabbed his swollen nose and retreated.

That was one bully down, one left to go. Erin stood there staring, her arms folded tightly across her chest. Wasn’t nothin’ new. She’d hated most everyone around here from the time she’d showed up in Bittersweet back in August. She’d arrived complete with her lawyer daddy and know-it-all mother. They’d come over from Georgia. Mr. Sawyer had told Daddy that law work wasn’t any good over there, but I didn’t see how a tiny town like Bittersweet would be much different. Even Dr. Heimler had been forced to shut down his office and work from his house. I figured if there wasn’t enough money to pay the town doctor, there sure wasn’t enough to pay for a new lawyer, and the Sawyers needed to go on back where they came from.

It wouldn’t have been a big loss. About the only kid who liked Erin was Ben. He’d always gone out of his way to be nice to her, even when he shouldn’t have. But then again, I’d never actually seen Ben be mean to anyone or anything. He wouldn’t even do in a rattlesnake we once found in his barn, coiled up and rattling in front of a bale of hay. When I told him to whack it with a shovel, he refused. “That rattler’s one of God’s creatures too. It’ll leave when it’s ready.” A couple of hours later, it slithered away.
I figured if Ben could like a rattlesnake, it was entirely possible for him to like Erin, ’cause there was no denying she was just as mean as one.

“Hey, Erin,” Ben said, shoving his hands deep inside his pockets. By the way he was acting, you’d think Erin Sawyer was the prettiest thing in all God’s creation. While she wasn’t ugly on the outside, I could assure Ben her insides didn’t match.

Erin wouldn’t look at Ben. She was too busy scowling at me. Her eyes squinted into slits behind her glasses. Her fists balled, turning her knuckles white.

“What’d I do now?” I asked, though I already knew. But why should I give her what she wanted? She’d still be mad all the time anyway, and she couldn’t hurt me.

“What you always do. Acted like the selfish person you are.”

Ben placed his hand on her shoulder in typical peacemaker fashion. “Just calm down and tell Lizzie why you’re upset.”

“I will not tell her, because she knows,” Erin snapped. Her eyes had gone from slits to saucers, and the way her glasses magnified them, I was afraid they might pop out.

“I’m going inside,” I said. “I’m tired of this.”

But instead of walking inside, I landed facedown on the ground, the musty smell of mud drifting up my nose.

“You ain’t gotta trip her, Erin,” said Ben, reaching to help me up.

“You stay out of this, Ben.” Erin glared at me. She
pointed at my face. “I’m through playing games with you, Lizzie. I’m gonna give you one last chance to take your name off that list.”

I stood and tried to brush the mud from the front of my dress. I figured Erin was ready to wring my neck ’cause I’d gone off and signed up for the essay contest Miss Jones ran for the sixth-grade class twice each term. The winner received extra points toward their final grade. After I’d won the last three contests, Erin had been at me about this one. I’d come in first place with the highest grades last term. She’d come in second. She couldn’t stand it. She probably thought if she could win the extra credit, it’d give her enough to beat me out at the end of this term. Well, I wasn’t about to let that happen. I had to hold on to my top spot for Daddy, and I needed those extra points to do it. More than ever. “It’s a free country, Erin. I’ve got just as much right to be in that contest as you. I like to keep my grades in top shape. Daddy always told me getting good grades is my most important job.”

“Your
daddy
told you!” She laughed. “You may not have noticed, but your daddy’s gone.”

I should’ve let her words roll off me like water off a duck’s feathers, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. “He’ll be back, and I’ll have the grades he’ll expect to see.” The words poured out smooth and easy, like warm honey. “I wouldn’t pull out of that essay contest now if it was your dying wish. It’s too much fun beating you.”

Erin’s fair skin flushed deep red. There was no doubt
about it: her eyes were coming out. “You don’t need that extra credit, Lizzie Hawkins, and you know it. You just can’t stand the thought of somebody else winning. Now take your name off that list. I know I can win it without you entering, and that’s exactly what I aim to do.” She peered over the rim of her glasses. “Everybody around here, including me, knows you’re Miss Jones’s little pet, and if your essay is in that contest, nobody else stands a chance.”

Now, truth be told, I’d have been more than happy to be Miss Jones’s little pet, but fact was fact. I worked hard for everything I got. Miss Jones had never given me any special privileges. Just Friday past, I’d received three whacks on my palm with a hickory switch for bloodying Scott McClain’s nose during recess. Pets do not get punished. Erin seemed to have forgotten that.

“I’m warning you to drop out, Lizzie. It’s not fair. I’m sick to death of watching you win everything. If you do it, I’ll stop bothering you.”

She wouldn’t be satisfied till I dropped out, but Daddy said quitting made you look weak. Anyway, the chances of her calling a truce with me were slim. I had a better chance of becoming the next Greta Garbo. She just wanted to taste sweet victory for herself. And I knew how that worked. She’d get one lick and then she’d be hungry for more. One win is never enough.

Besides, although I wasn’t about to let anyone else know it, I needed that extra credit. Badly. I’d been able
to hold on to the top grades in my class for nearly two years straight, even before Erin showed up. But now, with Daddy gone and Mama sick, I didn’t have so much time to study anymore. My study time was mostly spent mending clothes for extra money or tending to chores, and my grades were beginning to take a small hit. I felt a pang of doubt that I could finish my essay by May ninth. I hadn’t even started it yet. But I refused to give up.

I looked at Erin like I might be considering her offer. I wasn’t. “You don’t know
how
to stop bothering me,” I said. “I haven’t dropped out before, and I’m not about to start now, so I guess you’ll just have to get over all your jealousy.”

Erin stood there gaping. Ben didn’t look much different. The schoolyard was now deserted except for a few stragglers staring in our direction. Erin was more than aware of the eavesdroppers and huffed, “Jealous? What’s there to be jealous of? You’ve got nothing but a hobo daddy and a loony mother.”

A flurry of gasps and giggles erupted from the surrounding spies. Ben grabbed ahold of Erin’s arm, attempting to hush her up. She jerked away. Her eyes flickered. “You’re in a bad way, and you know it. You know what happens to kids when their parents can’t take care of them? They get carted off to the nearest orphanage, that’s what. I’d hate for that to happen to you. Course, if it did, I guess I wouldn’t have to put up with you hogging the spotlight all the time, would I?”

I yanked Erin close. Her muscles tensed beneath my grip. “You threatening me, Erin Sawyer? Because I’ve got news for you: I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. Daddy’s off finding work and Mama is fine. She’s just real busy with Daddy gone, that’s all.”

Truthfully, Mama wasn’t fine. It was a good day if she knew I existed. And Daddy hadn’t yet filled us in on exactly where his travels had taken him, but Erin didn’t know that, and she wasn’t going to. Yep, when it rains in Alabama, it pours, and sometimes you gotta work with what you got. Well, all I had to work with were fibs.

Miss Jones appeared in the doorway. “Come along, children. We don’t have all day.”

Erin stomped off. Ben grabbed my arm and pulled me inside. He whispered something in my ear, but all I could hear was Mama quoting from her book of proverbs and sayings Daddy had given her before I was born: “After honour and state follow envy and hate.” I’d never gotten it before, but I did now. I got it good.

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