Kathryn Magendie (19 page)

“I better go.”

She didn’t ask me to stay, but the hurt seeped out of her pores.

As I walked home, I wondered if things were changing too fast for me to keep up. I wondered what it all meant. Grandmother Rosetta dying, the blood coming, Mother’s talking to me as she had, all signs of the wind changing direction. No matter what I wished for, it didn’t make a difference, change still came because the world was always changing and evolving, even if we couldn’t see all of it until we looked back in time. Father was right about that.

At the bottom of the mountain, I stood still in the grass with the sun full on my face and I didn’t want the day to end, even if I hated the day in my cranky mood. Each day that passed meant I was closer to summer’s end. I didn’t want the fall to come, and then cold dark winter, all the leaves dropping to the ground, leaving the bare sticks whistling in the wind.

EIGHTEEN

I felt like my old self again, almost. I woke, made my bed, stretched and touched my toes, turned side to side, but didn’t do my jumping jacks in case that made the blood come back. In the bathroom, I checked my panties. Nothing there for the second day, so I was free. Over a breakfast of eggs and toast, I thought about the rest of the summer, thought about two days ago when Mother took me to the drugstore and I saw the ice cream shop that just opened. As we drove by, I’d wanted one of those ice creams more than anything.

We’d gone to the drugstore so Mother could teach me how to buy my own sanitary napkins, as if I needed a lesson in front of everyone. I told her I was not using any more of those little saddles. She said I could lose my innocence if I used tampons, and when I asked her what she meant by that, she blushed and said, “I think you know what I mean.” I wasn’t stupid, but I just wanted to hear her say it. She was in the dark ages, for I’d read in magazines how things like that didn’t happen.

 
She pointed to the pads, and not wanting to draw any attention with her there, I took the box from the shelf. I’d come back later and get what I wanted with my own money. While the man rang up the napkins, I stood at the counter and thought I’d pass out and die right there on the spot. What if any of the Circle Girls saw me buying pads? Or worse, T. J. and his Posse?

Mother stood beside me, her hand on my shoulder. Her hand was so heavy, it was as if I were pushing through the linoleum floor. I wished she
would
push me through a hole in the floor where I could disappear. When we were back in the car and driving away, she turned to me and said, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

I stared out the car window.

She stopped the car across the street from the sign that read,
New! Ice Cream Delights! Open for Business
! and it was all I could do to stay seated in the car while Mother bought flowers from an old woman who peddled them from a cart. I watched kids walk out of the door, licking their cold treats and I was filled with want. Ice cream wasn't all I wanted. Jeremy stood with his back to the wall, drinking a Coca-Cola. He wore a white shirt and jeans and was so handsome I couldn’t breathe. I wondered what he’d been doing all summer, and with whom. I decided right then I would talk Sweetie into having ice cream. In town.

Since then, all I could think of was Jeremy and ice cream and town, Jeremy ice cream town. Jeremy eating ice cream in town. I even had a dream where we held hands, and then he leaned over and kissed me right on the lips, long and slow. I woke up with my hand between my legs and was so embarrassed, I went to the bathroom and washed my hands twice. I couldn’t ever tell Sweetie about that. It was a secret that would stay out of our locked secrets box, out of the diary, and inside my own head.

I met Sweetie at Turtlehead Rock, filled with excitement over Jeremy and ice-cream and town—normal almost-teenaged things. I’d first need to make things easy between us again, since I’d been so smart with her before. We picked wildflowers for Miss Mae and Mother, and I talked about old television shows I used to watch, especially ones that had ice cream parlors in them, like Mayberry RFD with Sheriff Taylor and Aunt Bee.

Sweetie kept looking at me sideways until I finally asked, “What?”

“You sure are itchy over something.”

“Am not.”

“I know you.”

“What do
you
know? You think you know everything. Well, you don’t.”

Sweetie turned away from me.

I was ashamed and not doing a good job of making things right. I picked an especially pretty flower in different shades of orange, red, yellow—the colors were so bright it made me dizzy to look at them, they swirled and danced and caused spots to float behind my eyes. It was a perfect Sweetie flower. I stuck it out to her. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been a good friend, and a worse bound-sister.”

She didn’t even act stupid about it by slapping the flower away, or telling me to leave her alone or anything like that. She took the flower, held it up, and I saw it reflected in her eyes, swirling bright colors, and I became dizzy all over again. She said, “I spoke sharp to you more’n once, right? I surely have.”

After that, we picked flowers without saying much, until we had thick bouquets.

Sweetie sat on a log and put her flowers on the ground beside her. She whispered, “You over that stuff yet?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s it like?”

“Well, it kind of hurts, and it’s gross. And Mother made me buy
pads
in front of a man. It was
so
embarrassing.”

She looked down at the ground. “Mama has that ever now and again. I got to make them pads and burn them when they’s full.” She made a disgusted face. “I just don’t want it, Lissa. I don’t want them kinds of things to happen to me. That’s why I got to will that stuff away with magic.”

“Well, it’s a fact; us women are mightily
screwed.
”

Sweetie’s jaw slung open in the first wide-eyed surprised look I’d ever seen from her. Then she laughed so hard, tears ran down her cheeks. I began laughing with her. We sat on the log and laughed until the whole mountain echoed with it. Nonna swooped down and sat on the log with us and laughed just as hard as we did. The joke was on all us women.

When it was time for Sweetie to go home, we stopped at Whale Back to plan our next meeting place. I took a deep breath. I hated to ruin all the laughing and fun but hoped Sweetie would surprise me and be happy about things. I wrote in the ground,
ice cream in town
.

She looked at me as if I had lost my mind.

I underlined it.

“No!” She stamped her foot. “You done lost your pea-picking mind?”

“Why not?”

“No town. I got to brand your hide with that message?”

“I don’t get it. What’s the difference? If you go to school and get stuff from the church, why not town?”

She stomped on
ice cream in town
. “If I do not go to school, the school police come looking for me, and if they come, Mama gets the shotgun, and if she does that, they will take her away. Then what will come of me?” She scuffled over the stomp marks until no letters were showing. “And I told you why I got to go to that church.” She slit her eyes at me. “No laws or sick mama’s say anything about ice cream in town.”

“I’m just saying it will be fun.” I smiled big enough to show a mouthful of teeth, then said, “Don’t you want some ice cream? It’s my treat; I have an allowance.”

“Not about money. Don’t you know me by now, Silly Goose Head?” She turned on her heel and ran off into the woods.

“Wait, Sweetie! Don’t run away.” I ran after her halfway down the trail, then stopped. I called out, “Well, if you don’t want to go, fine! I’m going. I want some ice cream.” I waited. I didn’t hear anything, so I tried again. “We can’t spend the whole summer running around here. I’d like to try something different. A movie, some ice cream, that amusement park up in the sky.
Something
.”

Up ahead, I saw her blonde head appear then disappear behind the trees. I turned around and stomped home, forgetting the wildflowers, including the swirly colored one, on the ground.

***

I woke the next day, jumped a few jacks, then cleaned up and headed to town. I wore a yellow and white sundress Mother bought me that wasn’t too bad. It was a long walk from my house, but walking was a lot easier since Sweetie and I had run all over the mountain almost every day. It was strange not heading up to the mountain to see her, but in a way I felt free and easy. I swung my arms back and forth and thought about ice cream, but mostly about Jeremy.

At the ice cream shop, my stomach did a flip. Through the glass, I saw T. J. sitting at a table with Deidra. I sucked in a good breath, made myself stand up tall, and walked bold as anyone pleased through the door. A little bell rang as I entered and I liked how happy it sounded. In the corner, a big Wurlitzer jukebox played “Tutti Fruity.” T. J. and Deidra turned to look at me and it was all I could do to keep walking to the counter. My legs were jiggly and jerkity when I passed them. I expected to feel T. J.’s fist in my back, and a tingle shot up my spine.

What was so strange or wrong about ice cream on a summer’s day? Peter said he used to do it with his friends during summer vacation. He said they’d take towels and run outside and be drenched by the rain, then hit each other with the wet towels. He said when they lived in
Baton Rouge
, they ran behind the mosquito trucks or rode their bikes behind them, and never worried about growing two heads or their fingers falling off. Sometimes he’d lie pretend-dead on his back with his feet in the air while his friends pointed at him and laughed. He said to earn money they’d do chores for old ladies, or pick up bottles to return to the store. With the money they’d go to the movies, buy popcorn, Milk Duds, Sugar Babies, Zero’s, Snickers, and something cold to drink.

I’d dreamed of doing those things myself one day with a friend. Sweetie didn’t want to do anything. For almost the whole summer, I’d been running around on a mountain and hadn’t once ridden a bike behind a mosquito truck, or slapped someone with a wet towel, or swam in a pool.

The man in the apron cleared his throat, asked, “Have you made up your mind yet, Miss?”

“
Oh
. Yes. I mean, no, I was thinking.” I smiled at him.

“Take your time.” He began washing glasses and spoons.

The treats were listed on a board tacked to the wall. Lemonade, limeade, root beer floats, sodas, cherry smash, banana split, egg cream, cones, shakes, malteds, and if I wanted, sprinkles and cherries to put on top. My mouth watered and my eyeballs bulged with the choices. I said, “I think I’m ready.”

The man smiled as he wiped the counter in front of me.

I hesitated, waiting to hear T. J. say, “Fat Ass don’t need any treats, she’s fat enough already.” He wasn’t saying a thing. I gave my order. “I’ll have a vanilla cone, please. With sprinkles.”

“That’ll be all for you?”

“And a cherry on top?”

“Coming right up.”

I sat on the stool at the counter and watched the man swirl my ice cream into the cone, spoon multi-colored sprinkles on top, and with a pair of tongs, pluck a cherry from a bowl. He stuck it on top, winked at me, and then plucked out another cherry and put it next to the first one. When he handed it to me, I gave him my money, and immediately ate one of the cherries. It popped inside my mouth with a big burst of sweet. I chewed it, thinking about Sweetie’s cherry pie. It made me both mad and sad. I told the man, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Come back again.”

I slid off the stool and walked to the door to wait outside for Jeremy.

T. J. said, “Where’s that weirdo friend of yours?”

I licked the sprinkles around the other cherry and kept walking.

I was at the door when he called after me louder, “You got tired of all her stupid shit, huh? No more weird birds of a feather weirding together?”

With my hand on the doorknob, I stopped and wondered what I should say, or if I should get out before it turned ugly.

The man in the apron said, “No cussing in here, boy. Get out if you want to flavor the ice cream with any of that language.”

I turned to face T. J., “I
am not
tired of her. She’s my friend.” I was not a good friend, and certainly not a bound sister. Why else would I be having ice cream hoping a boy would come by, instead of finding out where Sweetie was right then? Was she waiting at Whale Back Rock? Would she give in and meet me for ice cream? I wanted to defend myself. I wanted more to defend Sweetie.

Deidra giggled, of course.

I said, “She’s caring for her sick mother.”