The Orange Blossom Special (23 page)

“Yes ma'am, he's in the back with Sonia. She's washing up his wound.”

Victoria took in the sight of Charlie lying in Sonia's chair, of Ella and Pauline in this place, this expensive place—her sanctuary—of Jésus, his usually impassive face, rigid with anxiety, of Tessie, frightened witless.

“Well this is . . . for God's sake, Charlie Landy.” She crammed a piece of Juicy Fruit in her mouth. “Can't you just be with people your own age and act normal for a change? Why do you always have to go butting your nose into other people's business?”

By now, Charlie was sitting up, holding the cold compress to his head. “It wasn't other people, it was Ella,” he said softly.

“You care more about everyone else than you care about me. I tell you . . .” Victoria didn't finish her sentence. She was diverted by Ella's face in the mirror. For all the years she had known her, Ella wore her hair in a bun, hard and neat as a golf ball. Now, for the
first time, Victoria noticed her high cheekbones, her broad forehead, her strong masculine hands—maybe there was even some Cherokee blood in her. How could she have never seen this, that with a more flattering hairdo and some weight loss, Ella might be an attractive woman?

Victoria cracked her gum. Charlie could never understand how she could create a little gum-bubble, then pop it open using only her back teeth. The cracking was steady as Victoria stared off into space. Charlie knew that when she cracked and stared she was thinking about something, and whatever it was, it was something he would never have predicted. Victoria turned her attention to Jésus. “I know this sounds crazy at a time like this, but you know me, always Miss Practical. While we're all stuck here with this zoo going on, I wonder what could you do with Ella's hair, you know, to give it a little pizzaz.”

“Oh Mrs. Landy,” Ella protested. “I couldn't. That wouldn't be right.”

“Go on,” urged Pauline. “A little prettying up won't hurt you.”

Jésus gestured outside. “We could be here for hours. It would take our minds off of the unpleasantness. Besides, I would like nothing more than to trim your hair. May I?”

Charlie came and stood behind Ella next to Jésus. He winked at Ella in the mirror. “It's time for a change, don't you think?”

“All right then,” said Ella, turning to Jésus. “But don't you go making me look like Audrey Hepburn.”

Sonia led Ella to her station and placed a smock around her neck. “You relax now, I do the work,” she said, as she adjusted the water until it was just so. Victoria watched Sonia's little face become studious as her hands moved like a conductor's through the froth and tangle of Ella's hair. Sonia was particularly beautiful when she was serious and engrossed.

Ella sat rigid, as if she were about to get a cavity filled without a painkiller. This was all too different, someone serving her—a man, a white man no less, all the attention she was getting over what, over a haircut? Ella was always amazed by the vanity of some people. In God's eyes, everyone was humble, so why did they bother to spend so much money going to beauty parlors and buying too many clothes? Maynard Landy was one of the few who knew the value of a dollar. She'd seen how hard he'd worked for every penny he earned. Just the thought of him, may he rest in peace, filled her with sadness and longing for a time that had passed. How embarrassed she'd be to have him see her like this. And Charlie Landy. What must he think of her done up in this fancy smock with Mr. Baldy running his fingers through her hair like she was some kind of a fashion model. She hoped Pauline would have the good sense not to talk about this to the other parishioners.

Tessie asked Jésus if she could use the phone. She hadn't stopped fidgeting, lighting one cigarette after another, since she got here. “I ought to call the girls and tell them what's going on.”

“Yes, and find out if they're okay,” said Charlie.

Victoria sat down next to Ella. “I have to talk to you about something.” Ella heard the lilt in her voice and her heart sank, knowing she was trapped. “It's about Reggie.” She chewed her gum thoughtfully. “I can see that underneath it all, Reggie has some potential.” Victoria was oblivious to Ella's discomfort. “Of course, when you have certain physical defects, it's hard to have any self-regard. I mean, how could you? So I was thinking that maybe I could get Dr. Simons to fix him up some teeth. You know how important first impressions are. People look at your eyes, your hair, your teeth, and right or wrong, they sum you up before you've even said a word.”

“Reggie could sure use some teeth. That's very kind of you to offer,” said Ella in a monotone.

“Well, you know how I like to help in any way I can,” she said, glancing up at Jésus.

Jésus nodded, as he always did when Victoria wandered beyond his comprehension.

“There's not much left,” Pauline said to Ella. “You see what's going on here?”

Ella's hair had gathered around Jésus's feet like a nest. With all the excitement, no one seemed to notice that he had cut off most of it, leaving a nimbus of soft white curls framing her face.

“My God, you look like Ella Sykes's daughter, if she had one,” said Charlie. “That is amazing.”

“It's very nice,” said Tessie, who kept staring at her watch. She had finally reached Dinah. “You won't believe what's going on here,” she told her.

“What?” Dinah sounded distracted.

“Victoria, Ella, Pauline, Charlie, and I have been locked inside J. Baldy's. There's some kind of demonstration . . .”

“Charlie's there too?”

“Yes, there's some kind of demonstration . . .” She tried to describe what had been going on but Dinah was only interested in one thing.

“Yeah, but what's Charlie doing there?”

She looked at her watch again. “Jeez, we've been here for over an hour.” She could tell Dinah wanted to get off the phone as fast as she could.

“I'll call back at Baldy's in an hour. If you're still there, we'll figure something out,” Dinah said.

Tessie tapped a cigarette against her knuckle. “Oh, and please call Barone and tell him where I am,” she said, trying not to sound too frantic. “I mean, he may want to know.”

“Yeah, sure,” Dinah said, and hung up.

Dinah could be so irritating at times. It was no picnic raising one teenage girl, never mind Crystal, who, let's face it, was more than she had bargained for. Everyone wanted something from her. And Barone, everything had to be done on his schedule. She always had to wait until he called her. It was hard having to take care of herself. Jerry protected her. Now who was watching? Son of a gun, Victoria was still talking! She hadn't shut her mouth once in the hour and a half they'd been there.

“Everybody!” Victoria clapped her hands. “Look how beautiful Ella is.” They all looked up except Sonia, who was sitting in the back of the shop reading a romance magazine in Spanish.

Victoria walked to where she was sitting. “Hi, Sonia,” she said tentatively.

“Hello, Mrs. Landy.”

Since the fire, Victoria had barely spoken to Sonia, though she still gave her generous tips each week. Whenever she thought about that night, how she had visualized Sonia while she and Maynard made love, she would flinch and turn away as if what she saw before her was too overwhelming. She rationalized it by thinking how she desired all things beautiful. And Sonia was certainly beautiful. All she wanted was to see what she was like up close, away from the salon. Victoria was sure that was all there was to it. But each time she looked at Sonia, she was forced to stare at her own guilt over Maynard's death. Victoria waved her hand in front of her face, trying to shush away these thoughts. “Charlie, honey,” she said, distracting herself with her own chatter. “How is that wound? You feeling better, sweet boy? Tessie, are the girls okay?”

If Sonia wondered why Mrs. Landy didn't bring bags of mangos to the shop or invite her back to her house anymore, she never asked. Now she waited for Victoria to stop talking so she could go back to reading her romance magazine.

When the phone rang, they all started, as though they'd never heard the sound of a bell before. “I'll get it,” shouted Tessie, nearly knocking over Charlie on her way to pick it up. From the way she lowered her voice and turned toward the wall, they knew it was Barone at the other end.

Jésus kept his eyes fixed on the front window, trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on. “Don't worry,” said Charlie, placing a hand on Jésus's arm. “It's just a bunch of crazy boys. It's already quieted down, we'll be fine.” Jésus kept staring at the window. “Where I come from, police would take these poor people away, torture them, sometimes even kill them. This, what is going on outside, is what I've feared the most.”

“No one will be killed or tortured,” said Charlie. “It's just what happens when things change. People don't take to new things easily.”

“I am very happy with the old things,” said Jésus, who cherished the predictability of life in Gainesville. “I see no need for changes.”

“I know what you mean,” said Charlie. “New things are scary.” He thought of his own changes—his feelings for Dinah, the growing awareness that he would have to leave this place soon and make a bigger life for himself—and how they darted his nights with unease and sleeplessness. “I worry about my mother,” said Jésus. “I write her every day and pray that someday she will come here to Gainesville. She misses Sonia so much.” He paused and looked at Charlie, who knew instinctively to stop thinking and just listen. Charlie felt at ease with Jésus, sensing the kindness within him.

“When I was nineteen, I had relations with my older cousin,” Jésus went on. “It was my first time. She became pregnant and I promised her if she kept the child, I would raise it on my own. So Sonia lived with my mother and me in San Vicente. She calls my mother Tía Rosa. When Sonia was fourteen, I went to make a life
in America. After I knew I could support us both, I sent for her. She is good at her job. The customers like her. I haven't told her yet.” He paused again. “Now, when something like this happens, I feel I could lose everything. This is all I have.”

“What are you two yacking about?” said Victoria, who'd been eyeing her son and hairdresser as they whispered in the corner.

“Just stuff,” said Charlie, realizing how worn his mother looked. “How are you doing?” he asked.

“I'm hot and I'm bored and if this isn't over soon, you're going to have to call the men in the white coats to haul me the hell out of here.”

Charlie pulled a piece of the curtain aside. “Looks pretty quiet out there,” he said. He parted the curtain even more. “It's empty.” He opened the front door and walked out. He came back a few seconds later. “It's all over. I guess we can go now.”

They all blinked and opened their eyes wide the way people do when the lights go on after a movie. And just as in the movies, the world that they'd been living in for the past two hours was finished, gone. No one stirred. There were many ways this afternoon at J. Baldy's could end, and between them they had considered all of them. All except one: that they could just walk out the door and go back to their lives.

Dear Dottie,

When I come on Saturday, I would like to bring a new friend with me. I have told him all about you and the sweethearts and though he didn't say it in so many words, I could tell by the look on his face and the way that his eyes shone that you and he will have a special bond. Don't worry about food, I'll bring it. He has simple and specific tastes. So do I, and you suit them to a “T.” Wear something loose and informal. My friend can be
very
playful. Yours, Barone

Around the words “Yours, Barone” he'd drawn pictures of someone who looked like Tessie doing summersaults and headstands. Maybe the circus had come to town and he had befriended one of the performers. “Señor Swanky is bringing someone for us to meet on Saturday,” Tessie told the girls that night. “He's being very mysterious and says we should wear clothes that are comfortable and playful.”

“Neat,” said Crystal. “I have a pair of Charlie's old overalls that would look real cute with my gingham shirt.”

“He better not be bringing one of those nausea boys he works with at Jai Alai,” said Dinah.

The girls fell into one of their giggling fits.

“Hmm, and I was hoping it was someone to help me with chores around the house,” said Tessie.

Dinah thought back to two weeks ago, when she called Barone to tell him that Tessie was trapped inside J. Baldy's.

“Does she sound scared?” Barone had asked.

“Actually, she sounds annoyed. She says Victoria won't shut up and that Jésus has cut Ella's hair within an inch of its life and that sometimes she thinks she made a terrible mistake moving us to this stupid little redneck town. Yeah, I guess she was scared.”

“Your mother is alone too much,” he'd said. “It makes her sad and anxious.”

“She's got me and Crystal hanging around all the time.”

“I know she does, sweetheart. I'm talking about a different kind of alone that has to do with your father, and with me not always being available.”

Whoever this mystery guest was, Dinah wondered if it would have something to do with that conversation.

On Saturday afternoon, the three of them were standing at the front door when Barone pulled up in his Impala.

“He looks very by himself to me,” said Crystal.

“Maybe he's got a new imaginary friend,” said Dinah. “That's so cute.”

Tessie smiled. “You never know. That man is full of surprises.” He walked toward the house, an “I've got a secret” smile on his face. He kept his hands over a pouch on his stomach.

“Hello everyone.” The pouch under his shirt started to squirm. Barone feigned a look of surprise as he stared down to his belly. “Well, what have we here?” A fuzzy ear poked out from where the shirt should have been buttoned. Barone scratched at the fuzz with one finger until the full head of a kitten popped up. Its nose was pink as a pig's, and there were black-, white-, and copper-colored
patches on its face. It stared out with unblinking eyes like globes of lapis lazuli.