Jimmy (20 page)

“If we're going to pray, we need to get started. I have a conference call scheduled with a judge in Douglas County in less than thirty minutes.”

“Sure,” Brother Fitzgerald replied. “Jimmy and I can talk about angels another time.”

“Watchers,” Jimmy corrected.

“I believe they're angels, and I've explained to Jimmy—” Mama stopped when Daddy made a swift downward motion with his hand.

Brother Fitzgerald cleared his throat. “Let us pray,” he said, lowering his voice.

Jimmy bowed his head and closed his eyes. The preacher's words rolled from his lips. He talked about God's power, love, mercy, and holiness. Jimmy was amazed at how much Brother Fitzgerald knew about God. The preacher identified the people in the room: Daddy, Mama, Jimmy, and himself. He then used as many big words as Daddy when describing what the doctors said about Jimmy. The prayer went on a long time. Jimmy could tell the end was coming by the way the preacher talked.

“And all God's people said . . .” Brother Fitzgerald paused.

“Amen,” Mama and Daddy said.

“Amen,” said Jimmy.

Brother Fitzgerald stood and shook everyone's hand. Mama and Daddy thanked him for his time. When he reached Jimmy, he flashed another of his trademark grins.

“Young man, I look forward to further theological discussions with you. I'll be watching you, and you be watching me.”

“Yes, sir.”

M
AMA TURNED SIDEWAYS IN HER SEAT SO SHE COULD SEE
Jimmy's face.

“Did you understand what we told Brother Fitzgerald about your birth mama giving you a bath, answering the phone, and then finding you underwater?”

“I don't remember it.”

“Of course you don't, but there is a place inside your brain that does. That place is what makes you afraid of the water.”

Jimmy wrinkled his brow. “Can the doctor cut it off like he did the wart on Max's finger?”

“No, problems like this one can't be fixed by an operation. That's why we asked Brother Fitzgerald to pray and ask God to take away your fear.”

“I didn't feel anything while he was praying.”

“Neither did I,” Daddy added as he glanced toward Mama. “I swear that preacher flips a switch and out comes a prayer that sounds like a twenty-page brief I'd file with the Court of Appeals. I'm more moved when you pray before we go to sleep than by—”

“Lee, don't,” Mama interrupted. “We went for help and shouldn't criticize Brother Fitzgerald's efforts.”

They rode in silence for a minute.

“You're right,” Daddy sighed. “I guess I'm trying not to get my hopes up and then be disappointed.”

“We'll fill up the tub when we get home and see what happens,” Mama said.

—
Fourteen
—

A
n hour later Jimmy hadn't gotten a toe wet, and Mama removed the stopper from the tub. Jimmy sadly stared at the water as it swirled down the drain.
He kept his head lowered.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I know I should be able to get in the water but won't do it. I'm a bad boy.”

“No, no,” Mama replied. “You can't control the fear. If this problem were simply a matter of willpower, I know you could do it, but you're wrestling with something bigger than your ability to conquer.”

“I don't understand.”

“Don't think about it any more today,” Mama said. “Do you believe Jesus loves you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“For the Bible tells me so.”

Mama touched his heart. “That's right, but do you know it in here?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Then don't let anyone or anything take that love away from you. I don't understand why the fear is still there. We're all weak and fearful in some ways and need God's help.”

“You and Daddy aren't afraid of anything.”

“Adult fears are hidden.”

Jimmy was puzzled. “Then how do you know what they are?”

Mama put her arms around his shoulders and walked him into his room.

“Because sometimes they come out of hiding and scare us.”

D
URING SUPPER,
D
ADDY LISTENED TO
M
AMA TELL ABOUT THE
afternoon's efforts beside the bathtub. Jimmy gnawed a fried chicken leg and didn't contribute to the conversation.

“I'll call the church and tell Mrs. Kilmer not to put Jimmy on the list to be baptized next week,” Daddy said. “If things change, he can be baptized in the future.”

Jimmy took a bite of peas mixed with carrots. Suddenly, he had an idea.

“I could be sparkled,” he suggested as soon as he swallowed.

Daddy gave him a puzzled look. “What does that mean?”

“Dr. Paris told me she was sparkled at her church when she was a baby, and in the restroom at school, Max showed me how they do it.”

“Sprinkled,” Daddy corrected. “The minister or priest puts a few drops of water on your head, and they call it baptism.”

“Yes, sir,” Jimmy said. “I'll show you.”

Jimmy jumped up from his chair and ran to the sink. He turned on the water, cupped a small amount in his right hand, and dumped it on his head. The drops ran down his cheeks to his chin.

“See, that isn't a problem,” he said. “Could Brother Fitzgerald do that to me?”

Mama and Daddy looked at each other.

“If he refuses, we could always become Presbyterians.” Daddy replied.

“It wouldn't hurt to ask,” Mama said.

“Okay,” Daddy said. “I'll see what I can find out.”

I
T WAS A COLD, CLEAR NIGHT WHEN THE SIX MEMBERS OF
the Cole family and the young engineer who worked at Southwire were baptized in the warm interior of the First Baptist Church. Jimmy sat in the Mitchell pew and watched with more than usual interest. He marveled as each person stepped into and then under the water. A girl much younger than Jimmy did nothing more than sputter. Brother Fitzgerald had said no when Daddy asked that Jimmy be sprinkled.

T
HE RAINY, COLD WEATHER OF THE
G
EORGIA WINTER INTER
fered with pole-climbing lessons, but in the few days available, Jimmy extended the white marks higher and higher. Grandpa's heart seemed fine, and he returned to his usual activities.

During the Christmas holiday, Jimmy spent several days working at Daddy's office, where his ability to sort documents without becoming bored earned the increased admiration of Delores Smythe. One day he carried a neat stack of papers into her office and put them on a small table beside her workstation.

“Here they are,” he announced. “All of these papers are for the same year.”

“Sorted according to the month and day?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Delores picked up a photograph of Maureen, her fawn-colored Siamese cat.

“I'm going to be out of town for several days after Christmas and need someone to check on my cats and make sure they have enough food and water. Would you be interested in doing it for me? I'd be glad to pay you.”

Jimmy stared at the picture of the cat. It was standing with its front paws wrapped around a stuffed mouse.

Delores continued, “Your daddy says you do a good job with your dog, and cats are much easier to take care of than dogs because they use a litter box. I already have a special feeder that drops the correct amount of food into their dishes twice a day and a watering station that dispenses water. But I hate for my babies to have nothing to eat except that boring dry food. It would be sweet if you could open a can of cat food and feed them every afternoon around five o'clock. After they eat and do their business, you could dump the litter box and freshen it up. My garbage can is next to the back door.”

Jimmy, stuck at the point of trying to decide if he liked cats enough to do the job, didn't take in all the directions.

“Could you tell my mama about it?” he managed.

“Of course, but I wanted to make sure you were interested in helping.”

“Uh, yes, ma'am. If Mama says it's okay.”

“Great.” Delores pointed to a stack of folders on the floor beside her desk. “Those files are ready to be returned to the filing cabinets.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

C
HRISTMAS
D
AY ARRIVED WITHOUT A BICYCLE FOR
J
IMMY.
However, his disappointment was temporary. He received a lot of neat fishing stuff, two new caps, a new sleeping bag, and a picture book about angels. Jimmy sat on the floor and turned the pages. Mama stood behind him and looked down.

“What do you think about the angel book?” she asked.

“Is this what angels look like?”

“I don't know. Do any of them look like the Watchers you've seen?”

Jimmy kept turning pages until he reached the end of the book.

“No, ma'am. I don't see any Watchers.”

“How are the Watchers different from the pictures in the book?”

“Do you have him on cross-examination?” Daddy asked from the recliner where he was reading the instructions for a pair of digital binoculars.

“I'm just curious,” Mama answered. “And I thought the book would give us a point of reference for discussion.” She turned back toward Jimmy.

Jimmy furrowed his brow. “Watchers are different like people are different.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Watcher at the school looks different from the one I saw in Grandpa's backyard.”

Jimmy glanced down at a picture of a smiling cherub perched on the end of a child's bed. He held up the book so Mama could see it.

“And they're more serious than this. Being a Watcher means taking, uh . . .”

“Responsibility,” Daddy suggested.

“Yes, sir. Responsibility for things.”

“Where did you learn that word?” Mama asked.

“Mrs.
Gilman has been teaching us about responsibility in class. She told me that it has to do with my job of feeding Buster and making sure he has water. Buster is my responsibility.”

“It's as plain as can be,” Daddy added. “We think the county commissioners are running Cattaloochie County, but it's the Watchers who are really in charge.”

“Lee, that's sacrilegious.”

“I'm as serious as a Watcher,” Daddy answered. “I believe God is in charge, and he's delegated some of his authority to underlings who do his bidding. What's sacrilegious about that?”

“It's the way you said it.”

Daddy handed the binoculars to Jimmy. “Am I right?”

Jimmy wasn't sure about the question, but he could tell by the tone of Daddy's voice what the correct answer should be.

“Yes, sir.”

“There you have it from the expert.”

“I'm going to the kitchen before lightning strikes in the living room,” Mama said.

Daddy handed the binoculars to Jimmy.

“Take these to the window, hold them up to your eyes, and see how big the fake reindeer in Mr. Perdue's front yard looks. Push this button, and it will take a picture.”

Jimmy looked through the binoculars, but everything was fuzzy.

“I can't see very good.”

Daddy knelt beside him. “Let me adjust them for your eyes. Tell me when it looks clear.”

He turned the knobs. The reindeer came into focus. Jimmy pressed the button. Together they checked the image.

“Would you like to take these up the pole and take a picture?”

“Yes, sir!”

Mama always made homemade donuts for breakfast on Christmas morning. Jimmy's job was to apply a thin coating of sugar to the tops of the donuts while they were still hot from the vegetable oil.

“Speaking of responsibility, today is the first day for you to take care of Delores Smythe's cats,” Mama said.

Jimmy carefully held a spoonful of sugar over a donut and tilted it from side to side so that just the right amount of sugar slipped over the edge.

“Do you have the sheet of paper she gave me?” he asked.

“Yes. She gave more detailed instructions than a parent leaving a child for a week with his grandparents.”

“Could we take Buster with us? He could play with the cats.”

Mama's eyes narrowed. “Are you kidding?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Jimmy smiled mischievously. “Buster would scare them.”

“That's right, and you would lose your job before you got started.”

I
T WAS A SHORT DRIVE TO
D
ELORES'S HOUSE.
S
HE LIVED IN
the same area of town as Grandpa and Grandma but on a different street. Along the way, Jimmy saw children playing with toys received earlier in the day. Two children had new bicycles. One was a dark-haired girl riding a pink bike with plastic flowers in the ends of the handlebars. Her bike didn't appeal to him, but the next one grabbed his attention. It was a mountain bike with a water-bottle holder and a rack on the rear. The boy riding it was wearing a camouflage helmet. Jimmy turned and looked out the back window of the car as they passed by. When they arrived at Delores's house, Mama handed the instruction sheet to Jimmy.

“You read the sheet to me.”

Jimmy put his finger on the first item on the paper. He could often sound out complex words that he didn't understand. However, there was nothing fancy about his job duties.

“Clean out litter box in kitchen. Dump old litter in garbage can.” He looked up from the list. “What's a litter box?”

“It's a restroom for cats.”

Mama took a key from her purse and unlocked the front door. Otto, Maureen, and Celine were in a cluster mewing in the small foyer. Maureen immediately rubbed herself against Mama's leg. Celine stepped backward toward the dining room at the sight of strangers. Otto bolted toward the door.

“Shut the door!” Mama yelled.

Jimmy pulled the door shut, striking Otto on the end of his nose. The cat squalled in pain. Mama reached over to pick him up, but he hissed and moved away from her.