Weeping Willow (11 page)
Authors: Ruth White
It was cold and Jesse turned on the heat. Shortly we were cruising down Main Street, and ready for a Saturday-night date in Black Gap.
The movie was at the Regal. There was another theater in town, but nobody ever went there on a Saturday. It was understood that the Regal was the only place to be. The movie was something with Jane Powell or Dick Powell—I don’t remember which one. We bought snacks, then went up to the balcony. Every popular person I knew was there. They hollered hey to me. Some of them knew Jesse and hollered at him, too. I was proud to be seen with him.
It was dim up there and the air was heavy with that theater smell—popcorn and bodies—and the floor was sticky and grungy with thousands of pops and food of all the Saturday nights before still clinging. We found seats by the railing and settled down with all our stuff.
Before the cartoon was over I heard my name called, and there was Rosemary and Roy. We made a lot of commotion as they settled in beside us, and I introduced everybody. Rosemary poked me and whispered, “He’s cute!”
The cartoon ended and the newsreel came on. Jesse took my hand and we snuggled shoulder to shoulder. By the time the movie ended, our palms were stuck together with sweat.
“Y’all come go with us to the CAR-feteria,” Rosemary said. “Everybody’ll be there.”
“Why don’t y’all come with us?” Jesse said.
Yeah, I was thinking, that would be better because I wanted to be seen with Jesse in his Chevy.
Roy and Rosemary agreed.
You could always tell when the Regal let out on Saturday night because a solid line of cars streamed down Main Street to the drive-in restaurant. The CAR-feteria was just out of town at a wide place in the road so there was plenty of parking space and room to cruise in and out among the cars. And that’s what everybody spent a lot of time doing on Saturday night. It was stroll-and-perch time in cars.
We ordered hot dogs—no onions—and cherry Cokes. Roy ordered a big dill pickle just to be different.
Then there was Connie Collins right beside us with one of the Owens boys in a new Lincoln with a Continental kit. And she had on a black mouton jacket. Did she always have to outdo everybody in everything?
“Hey, Connie!” Rosemary called to her sweetly.
Connie flashed a big toothy grin. We waved at her.
She started looking at Jesse and he started looking at her like they never saw the opposite sex before.
“I can’t stand that girl,” Rosemary and I said together, but still smiling.
“What girl?” Jesse said.
“Connie Collins,” Roy said. “The blonde in the Lincoln.”
“Oh,” Jesse said. “I was just admiring the Continental kit.”
“Sure you were!” we teased him.
“I really was,” he said. “The prettiest girls here tonight are in my car!”
And he squeezed my hand.
Our hot dogs came, and I don’t remember if mine was good or not. It didn’t matter. We were having fun, and nothing could spoil it. Roy passed around that silly pickle and made everybody take a bite. We laughed till we hurt.
Later, Jesse drove me home and we were quiet all the way. I was thinking, I never want this night to end. I’m going to remember it all—the balcony and Roy and Rosemary, and the CAR-feteria and that pickle and how everything smelled and how the Chevy chrome sparkled in the lights, and how Jesse said I was pretty and held my hand. And I’m going to remember everything he said and write it all down when I get home. Because this is the beginning of happily ever after, and I don’t want to forget any of it.
We sat in the Chevy on the little dirt road going up the hill to my house and looked at the night and still said nothing. It must have been about five minutes till eleven. All the lights in my house were out except for the living room, where I knew Mama was watching the last few minutes of television before it signed off; and the front porch light was on, of course. Vern, no doubt, saw to that.
“I have to go in,” I said at last.
Jesse got out and came over to my side and helped me out like they do in the movies. Then he put his arm around me and we went up the tall steps like that. On the top step right under the porch light he kissed me.
“Call you tomorrow,” he whispered.
And he left.
I floated into the house.
Whee … eee …
Jesse called the next day and we went for a ride up the river. I heard from him on Monday, Tuesday, and the rest of the week, but it was Friday before I saw him again. By that time I couldn’t bring up his face in my mind’s eye, but when he came to the door Friday night, it all rushed back to me: his special smell, the way he looked at me, this habit he had of cocking his head to the side when he teased me.That night we went to the sock hop in the school gym, sponsored by the Band Parents. I wore my black slacks and my white Banlon cardigan buttoned up the back. It was the style. Jesse wore corduroy. We were together most of the weekend, and it whirled by breathlessly. I couldn’t write it all down or remember it. I wanted everything to slow down so I could hold on to it a little longer and think about it while it was happening. But there was no time for holding or thinking, and I learned as the weeks went by to go with the moment, to love it better than any other moment, then let it go, and hurry to the next one.
Sometimes we sat in his car and kissed till our lips were numb and we were breathless. Then Jesse would say, “I wish we were married.”
And I would say, “Me too.”
But we didn’t do a thing. Just talked about it, and the shining future that spread out before us. Jesse was planning to work for his daddy in his welding shop, and someday we were going to get married. We would live with his folks until we could afford to build our dream house. Then we would have babies … and they would grow up and have babies … and we would be grandparents … then … ?
Sometimes when we were kissing in Jesse’s car in the driveway, I would see Vern looking out the window. I was overwhelmed with shame, and I wished he would just drop dead and be out of my life. I vowed never, never to tell anybody—never. I would die if Jesse found out what Vern did to me. It would be the awfulest thing that ever was if Jesse found out.
Then I tried to forget it and wipe it out of my mind. But I woke up in a panic in the night two or three times. I was dreaming, but I couldn’t remember what.
“I will forget,” I said to myself. “I will never tell—ever. And I will forget about it. Then it will be like it never did happen.”
At Christmas, Jesse gave me his class ring, and I wore it on a chain around my neck. That meant we were going steady. About that time, Mama decided to act like a real mama and give me a good talking-to. It was that old “all boys are after one thing” talk. I had heard it a thousand times from every woman I knew. I acted like I was taking everything in, and agreeing. All the time I was thinking about Mama and Ernest Bevins up on Ruby Mountain getting me. In the end she made me promise not to “do anything” I would regret, and not to be alone with Jesse so much, because it bothered Vern. He was real worried, she said, about me getting in trouble. Well, she could have gone all day without saying that. It did nothing but make me mad.
“It’s none of his business!” I snapped.
“It most certainly is his business,” Mama said. “He don’t want another mouth to feed around here any more than I do.”
I sighed heavily and said, “Mama, give me credit for some sense. I’m not going to get in trouble.”
“No girl plans to get in trouble,” she went on. “I know I didn’t. It just happened.”
So she had done her duty.
When I wasn’t in school or with Jesse, I was with Aunt Evie. She was as eager as a girl herself to hear all about me and Jesse. I could talk about him all I wanted, and she was all ears. She giggled and dreamed with me, and helped me make plans.
Although Bobby Lynn was dating Cecil a lot, they weren’t serious. They both dated other people, but Rosemary and Roy were thick as molasses. They planned to get married the day after graduation. Roy was going to go into the mines with his daddy and brothers.
It was about that time, early in 1959, that Mama got real interested in visiting sick people in the hospital, with Dixie. They went about once or twice a week, and the kids went along to ride on the elevator. It was the only one in town, and they would ride it up and down, up and down, till somebody made them stop. When everybody was going to be gone after school I would hurry into the house, change clothes, get something to eat, and go up to Aunt Evie’s before Vern got home from work. I stayed with her until Mama came home. Then one afternoon in mid-March, when I got off the bus I saw the pickup parked in its usual spot. I knew Mama and the kids were gone, and I couldn’t figure out why Vern was home so early, but I decided to go straight up to Aunt Evie’s. I was rounding the corner of the house where the kitchen window was open a bit when I heard a voice from inside. He meant for me to hear.
“Look, Nessie, Tiny’s going up the hill to Aunt Evie’s. She don’t care if you get hurt or not.”
I stood still. Would he really hurt Nessie? I had visions of him hitting her with his belt or kicking her, or … Slowly I eased into the kitchen, but he wasn’t there anymore. For a moment I stood in silence.
Then I called, “Nessie! Come here, Nessie!”
But she did not come. I thought, He must be holding her, or she would come to me. Slowly I walked to the living-room door. Vern was watching television and clutching Nessie’s collar.
“Come on in, Tiny,” he said. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”
“I ain’t afraid. Just let Nessie go.”
“Come on over here and sit beside me. I won’t lay a hand on you.”
“Just let Nessie go.”
“Come here and I will.”
I felt safe beside the front door. If I went farther in, I might not be able to get back to the door.
“Vern, if you’ll let Nessie go, I’ll come in and sit by you.”
“Come on, now. Come on over here and talk to me. I don’t like you being scared of me.”
“Let me stand here.”
“Come on. I won’t lay a hand on you. Word of honour.”
Slowly I walked in and sat on the edge of the couch. I could smell bourbon. Nessie started straining for me and Vern turned her loose. I started petting her and eyeing the door.
“I never meant to make you mad,” Vern said seriously, and for a minute I thought he was going to apologize. “I could have been a lot nicer.”
I didn’t say anything. I would give him a minute, then I would bolt.
“You know I love you, Tiny. That’s the only reason I done it. Don’t you believe me?”
I didn’t trust my voice, and I felt like throwing up.
Silence fell between us. I could hear him wheezing as he breathed. On television Jack Bailey was saying, “Would you like to be Queen for a Day?”
“Is it better with Jesse?” Vern said.
I stood up and took Nessie’s collar.
“Just hold on,” Vern said, grabbing my wrist.
His grip was steel.
“Vern … please.”
Panic was just beneath the surface.
And then the miracle happened. There was a knock at the front door and I heard Cecil’s voice.
“Hey, Tiny! You home?”
“Come on in, Cecil!” I hollered real loud. “I’m here in the living room.”
Vern let go of me as Cecil entered the hallway. I walked unsteadily toward the living-room door as Cecil entered the room.
“Hey, Tiny.”
“Hey, Cecil.”
He looked from me to Vern.
“Bobby Lynn just called me about the talent show … Is something wrong?”
“No. Let’s go for a walk. Come on, Nessie! Let’s go, girl.”
Vern sat in silence as we left with Cecil.
“What’s going on?” Cecil said when we were walking down the hill.
“What d’you mean?”
“You look funny.”
Cecil stopped walking and peered down at me with his brow all wrinkled up. It struck me at that moment how handsome he was silhouetted against the sky like that. When did Cecil grow up to be so good-looking?
“What’s going on?” he repeated.
“Nothing.”
He didn’t persist, and I was glad.
“Let’s just walk up the road for a piece,” I said. “Okay?”
“Sure”
We set off walking up the dirt road, kicking rocks as we went. The air smelled good, but there was a wind and I shivered. Cecil kept looking at me with a puzzled expression on his face. He was the one who should be shivering, I thought. I still had on my band jacket, but he was in his shirt sleeves.
“I’m sorry, Cecil. I didn’t even notice, but I bet you’re cold.”
“Not a bit.”
“What about the talent show?” I said.
“They moved it back to April because it’s got to be such a big thing, they don’t want it too close to the beauty contest in May.”
“That’s good.”
“Bobby Lynn wanted me to talk to you. She thinks you have the best chance of winning. She wants to play piano for you.”
Maybe I would enter that talent show and win this year. That’s what I would do.
“Is Bobby Lynn going to yodel?”
“No, she’s not eligible to enter again. She wants you to win. So do I.”
“Thanks, Cecil.”
“The jewelry store is giving a seventeen-jewel Elgin, and the dime store if giving a gift certificate. And the Miner’s Diner is giving a free dinner for four.”
We glanced at each other.
“So if you win, you can pick out four people you don’t like and send ’em over there to eat.”
We laughed.
“Now, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Cecil.”
“Okay, if you say so.”
“I’m going to do it, Cecil. I mean I’m going to enter the talent contest.”
“Good. Now Bobby Lynn will get off my back.”
I stayed with Cecil until Mama and the kids came home near dark, and he didn’t ask me any more questions.
Next day I entered the talent contest, and Bobby Lynn and I set about practicing in earnest. Vern said very little to me after that day, which was fine with me, and I said nothing to him at all, which was usual. Still he stared at me all the time. I could feel his eyes on me when I was watching the television or washing dishes. Sometimes when I was outside I saw him standing looking out the window. He made my skin crawl.
Every morning on the radio they announced what prizes had been added to the pool for the winner of the talent show. The A & P chipped in a big gift certificate, and the Style Shoppe gave fifty dollars’ worth of clothes. The Ford dealership gave a set of tires, the department store a set of luggage, the appliance store a radio, and on and on.
There was a piano in the band room, and that’s where Bobby Lynn and I practiced every day at lunchtime, and that’s where I finally made an impression on Mr. Gillespie. The first time he heard me singing, he stopped whatever it was he was doing at his desk and came around and stood by the piano and listened. He made me so nervous I forgot the words. After he told me how good I was, he had me going up and down the scales to find my range, and all kinds of technical stuff like that.
“We have to practice,” Bobby Lynn told him.
“Oh, sure,” he said. “But later, Tiny, after the talent show, I want you to come in and let me help you with your breathing.”
I was thinking I knew how to breathe just fine.
“And I’d like to talk to both of you about this school down in North Carolina.”
That again. He was always going on about that college where his wife had gone.
So Bobby Lynn and I decided on a fast song, “Lipstick on Your Collar,” and a slow one, “Over the Rainbow.” Bobby Lynn was almost as excited as I was, and when Jesse and I double-dated with her and Cecil on Saturday night, all she could talk about was the talent show and how she knew I was going to win. I started feeling like I had to win.
“If she sings anywhere near as good as she did the night I met her, she’ll win,” Jesse said. “Won’t you, Pea Blossom?”
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