Tallahassee Higgins (2 page)

***

When I got off the airplane, I looked for Uncle Dan. According to Liz, he was around forty, tall, and probably kind of fat. "His hair was brown the last time I saw him," she had added, "but it's probably gray now. He might even be bald."

At least half the men I saw matched Liz's description, but as far as I could tell, I was the only red-headed girl in the whole airport. Hoping I would be easy to find, I stood in the middle of the waiting area and watched all the other passengers rush into the arms of their friends and relatives.

Just as I was beginning to think Aunt Thelma had told Uncle Dan not to come, I saw a tall man walking toward me. He was smiling a little uncertainly, and his eyes were gray-green like Liz's.

"Are you Tallahassee Higgins?" I nodded. He smiled Liz's smile and added, "I'm your Uncle Dan."

I wanted to run to him and give him a big hug, but I was scared. He didn't know me, not really, and I didn't know him. Maybe he didn't like hugs—how did I know? So I just stood there, gawking at him, too nervous even to smile.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he said. "I got held up in a traffic jam on the Beltway. A tractor trailer truck blew a tire and spilled lumber all over the place."

"That's okay." I gripped Melanie's box as if she were the only thing left in the world. "The plane was late, too."

"Where's your luggage?" Uncle Dan looked around, as if he were expecting to see more than my backpack.

"This is all I have," I said.

"Well, let me take it." Uncle Dan's big hand closed around the strap of my backpack. "What's in the box?"

"Oh, just a dumb old doll Bob gave me." I eyed a trash can, wondering what Uncle Dan would do if I tossed Melanie into it.

"Dumb old doll, huh?" Uncle Dan chuckled. "You sound just like your mom. She never cared much for dolls either."

When we got to the door, I felt a freezing blast of air, and Uncle Dan said, "You'd better get your coat on, Tallahassee. It's cold outside."

I looked up at him. "I don't have a coat," I said. "I never needed one in Florida."

"But you're in Maryland now, Tallahassee. Surely Liz hasn't forgotten how cold it is in February."

"I've got something in my backpack." I rummaged through my clothes and pulled out an old Miami Dolphins sweatshirt. Yanking it over my head, I followed Uncle Dan outside. It was dark, and the wind felt like it was blowing straight out of the North Pole. Why hadn't Liz told me I was going to the Arctic? With my head down, I ran to Uncle Dan's pickup truck.

"Can I ride in the back?" I already had one leg over the side, sure he'd say yes.

"Of course not. Do you want to get killed?"

"What do you mean? Liz's old boyfriend, Roger, always let me ride in the back of his truck, and nothing ever happened to me." I stared at Uncle Dan, too surprised to give him much of an argument.

"Have you ever thought what would happen to you if I had to slam on my brakes?" He opened the passenger door. "Come on, Tallahassee, get in here before you freeze to death."

Thinking he was probably right about freezing, I slid onto the seat beside him. Maybe when the weather got warmer, I'd be able to talk him into letting me ride in the back. But of course I wouldn't be here then, I reminded myself. I'd be out in California riding the waves on my surfboard.

"Well, how is your mom, Tallahassee?" Uncle Dan glanced at me as he nosed the truck into the flow of traffic leaving the airport.

"Oh, she's fine," I told him. "She's going to be a famous movie star."

"She is?" Uncle Dan stared at me.

"Bob has connections in Hollywood. You know, friends in the film industry. They're going to help her."

"I didn't know Liz had any training in acting," Uncle Dan said.

"Bob says she has natural talent." I leaned toward Uncle Dan, trying to convince him as well as myself that Liz was doing the right thing. "She was a waitress in this big dinner theater in Tampa, the kind where the whole staff sings in the chorus, and Bob was working in the sound booth. When he saw Liz, he was just sure she could make it in Hollywood. He says she has the looks and the talent."

"But Hollywood?" Uncle Dan looked doubtful. "It's not easy to get into the movies."

"Liz is so beautiful, I just know she'll be a star in no time," I said. "And then you can tell everybody you're her big brother. You'll be famous, too.
People
magazine might even interview you or something." I smiled at him, feeling a little more relaxed now that I was getting to know him better.

"Is Bob a nice fellow?" Uncle Dan asked.

"He's okay, I guess, but I liked some of Liz's other boyfriends better. Especially Roger, the one who let me ride in the back of his truck. He wanted to marry her, but she didn't want to stay in Florida for the rest of her life."

"I sure wish Liz could have come with you," Uncle Dan said. "I'd love to see her again."

He sighed, and neither of us said anything for a few minutes. Like my uncle, I wished with all my heart that Liz were sitting here in the truck with us. She seemed so far away, lost in the night, cruising along with Bob on a road I'd never seen.

"Your Aunt Thelma and I are delighted about having you with us, Tallahassee," Uncle Dan said finally. "You're our one and only niece. That makes you pretty special."

"Really?" I glanced at him, but he was looking straight ahead, concentrating on the traffic around us.

"Look over there," he said, pointing to the left. "We're crossing the Potomac River. See the Capitol and the Washington Monument? Aren't they pretty all lit up?"

I stared across the river, almost unable to believe I was seeing the most famous building in America. "They look like a movie set," I said. "Are they really real?"

Uncle Dan nodded. "Some Saturday, Thelma and I will bring you down to see the sights. We could go to the museums, too. Would you like that?"

"I guess so." I turned my head and watched the Washington skyline disappear behind us. "If we have time," I told him. "I won't be here very long, you know."

***

When we got to Hyattsdale, I was half-asleep, my head bobbing against Uncle Dan's shoulder.

"We're almost home, Tallahassee." Uncle Dan stopped at a red light. "This is Farragut Street," he said as he turned off Route One. "We live on Oglethorpe, right on the corner."

Pressing my nose against the window, I stared at the houses we were passing. Most of them were big and old-fashioned. They sat back from the street, surrounded by huge yards and bushes and tall trees. Some had towers on the side, and others had cupolas on the roof. Almost all of them had big front porches that made you think of old-fashioned summer days and ladies in long dresses sipping lemonade.

Here and there, stuck in between the big houses, were bungalows with dormered roofs and ramblers with picture windows. Most of them had swing sets in the yard and bicycles on the porch. They didn't make you think of anything except kids and dogs and boring suburban stuff.

Although I was hoping that Uncle Dan lived in a big house with a tower, he pulled into a driveway beside a plain gray bungalow and turned off the engine. "Here we are, Tallahassee," he said. "Let's get inside fast. Thelma's got a nice, hot dinner ready for us."

Clutching my door handle, I watched Uncle Dan walk around the front of the truck. The wind was thumping against the windows, but it wasn't just the cold that made me reluctant to open the door. In a few seconds I was going to come face to face with Aunt Thelma—the old grump, as Liz called her—and I felt like a little kid being sent to the principal's office. You know how that is—your insides are all tied up in knots, your mouth is dry, your legs shake because you know the principal isn't going to be happy to see you. She isn't going to like you.

"Come on, honey." Uncle Dan opened the door and took my arm to help me out of the truck. "We're home."

Shivering as the wind blasted my face, I let my uncle lead me up the walk toward the house that could never be home for me without Liz.

A
UNT THELMA WAS STANDING
at the front door, waiting for us. She was short and plump, and her hair was a sort of artificial reddish blonde. Although she smiled at me, the little dog beside her barked fiercely.

"Hush, Fritzi." She picked up the dog, who continued to snarl at me. He was brown and white, and he had a pointed face. Like Aunt Thelma, he was kind of overweight.

"Well, well, so here you are, Tallahassee." Aunt Thelma said my name as if it were a foreign word, and when I moved toward her, thinking she might want to hug me, she stepped back into the house without even trying to touch me.

"I'll bet you're hungry," she said, leading us down a dark hall to the dining room. "They never give you enough food on an airplane."

"I didn't have anything except a bag of honey-roasted nuts and a root beer," I said. "Only first class got a meal."

"Well, I've got a nice stew all ready for you. Just sit down, and I'll have our plates ready in a jiffy."

I took the chair sitting by itself on one side of the table, and Uncle Dan sat at the head of the table. In the silence we could hear Aunt Thelma rattling things in the kitchen. Fritzi had followed her out there, but he was keeping an eye on me from the doorway. He growled very softly when he saw me looking at him.

"Usually dogs like me," I said to Uncle Dan.

"Oh, don't pay any attention to Fritzi," he replied. "Children make him nervous."

"I'm not a child," I said. "I'm an adolescent."

"Here comes dinner," he said.

Aunt Thelma put plates in front of Uncle Dan and me and brought one more for herself.

Taking an enormous bite out of a biscuit, Uncle Dan turned to me. "I hope you brought your appetite with you, Tallahassee. Thelma's just about the best cook in the world."

"Liz is a good cook, too," I said, which was a lie. For years we had lived on frozen pizzas and Quarter Pounders from McDonald's.

Aunt Thelma smiled at me. "I'm so glad Liz finally met a nice man. It's about time she settled down."

"Settle down?" I swallowed a mouthful of stew. "Liz will never settle down."

"She's going to marry this man, isn't she?" Aunt Thelma's face reddened slightly.

"I
hope
not." I thought of Liz and Bob married, living in a boring little house, maybe having a baby or something. "Liz doesn't ever want to get married. She'd never trap herself that way."

Aunt Thelma and Uncle Dan looked at each other. When they didn't say anything, I added, "She says men always end up expecting you to wash their shirts and do the ironing and cook dinner every night. Liz could never do that."

The only sound was the
click, click
of Fritzi's toenails on the kitchen floor, and I had a feeling I must have said something wrong. Scooping up a big forkful of stew, I busied myself chewing while Aunt Thelma stared at me, her mouth too full of biscuit to say anything.

Uncle Dan turned to her. "Tallahassee tells me Liz is hoping to get into the movies. This fellow Bob knows some people in the film industry. Isn't that right?" He smiled at me, inviting me to help channel the conversation into safer waters.

"She's going to be a big star," I told Aunt Thelma proudly. "Bob says she has the looks and the talent."

"Really?" Aunt Thelma shot Uncle Dan a look. "Remember how she used to go into Washington and play her guitar at Dupont Circle? That's where all the trouble started."

Uncle Dan shifted his position as if his chair had suddenly gotten uncomfortable. "Liz had a lovely voice," he said a little stiffly.

"No training, though. No discipline." Aunt Thelma took a forkful of stew, chewed it thoughtfully, and turned to me. "How about you, Tallahassee? Do you sing?"

"Liz says I'm just like my father—the only way I can carry a tune is in a bucket." As they exchanged another glance, something occurred to me. "Did you ever meet him? My father?"

I laid down my fork, anxious to hear what they had to say. All my life my father had been a mystery to me. Whenever I'd asked Liz about him, she'd laughed and made up stories. Sometimes she told me he was a dangerous criminal, a drug dealer, or a bank robber. Other times he was a count from a foreign country or a circus clown. Once in a while he was just an ordinary person, too boring to talk about. All I really knew was that he had red hair and big teeth like mine, and he couldn't sing.

Uncle Dan bent his head over his plate and busied himself sopping up gravy with his biscuit, but Aunt Thelma shook her head. "Liz left here before you were born, Tallahassee."

In the silence following her answer, the clock on the living-room wall chimed and the wind rattled the windowpanes. But as I looked from one to the other, I was sure they knew more than they were saying. I swallowed the last mouthful of stew and promised myself that I would poke and pry till I found out what they were hiding.

"My, it sounds like it's getting cold out there." Aunt Thelma shivered and drew her sweater a little tighter. "How about dessert?" she asked. "I baked a nice cherry pie just for you, Tallahassee."

When we were finished, Aunt Thelma turned to me. "You've had a long day. I imagine you're ready for bed."

I started to argue with her. After all, it was only eightthirty, and I usually stayed up as late as I liked. But I was exhausted—not just from the trip but from having to talk all night with strangers. The kind of conversation we'd been having can really wear a person out.

Saying good-night to Uncle Dan, I picked up my box and my backpack and followed Aunt Thelma upstairs.

"T
HIS IS LIZ'S
old room." Aunt Thelma opened a door at the end of the hall, letting a wave of cold air rush past us. "It's pretty much as she left it. Dan never had the heart to clean it out."

I looked past her, at the pictures of horses tacked all over the walls. Some were cut from magazines, but most of them were hand drawn.

"When Liz was your age, she was totally horse crazy," Aunt Thelma said. "Then she discovered boys."

"Really?" I examined some of Liz's drawings. In every school I'd ever gone to, there was always a girl who drew horses. It was funny to think that here in Hyattsdale Liz had been that girl.