Uncle Carl Joe was already sitting at the kitchen table. He glanced up when Carl Ray came in, and everybody went all quiet and stared at the two of them. Then Carl Ray said, “Hey,” and Uncle Carl Joe nodded, very soberly, and everybody started crowding around the table. It was pretty easy to tell that Carl Ray and his father were not on the best of terms.
About three tons of food was spread on the table: fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, bread, green beans, squash, biscuits, tomatoes, corn, and peaches. Then for dessert: pecan pie and apple pie and molasses pie. For a family that seems poor as anything (like I said, no electricity and no plumbing and the house looks as if it hasn’t been painted in about two hundred years), they sure have a lot of food on the table. I don’t know how in the world Carl Ray was so skinny when he first came to our house.
Carl Ray had about ten helpings of food, which was a little embarrassing because he made it look like we never feed him.
Everyone kept asking Carl Ray what it was like in “The City” and I kept trying to say it isn’t a city that we live in. Easton is just a little suburb; it’s about ten miles from a big city. But they kept on and on about The City, asking him how many murders he’d seen and how many times he’d been held up by robbers and all that kind of sum and substance. Honestly.
They also kept asking Carl Ray about his car, and I thought he’d tell them about the money and the college education, but you could tell he was saving it for another time, because he looked real embarrassed whenever they mentioned it. They kept saying things like “You sure must make a lot of money in The City,” and “Wow, Carl Ray, you’re gonna be a millionaire,” and on and on. It was as if he didn’t want to tell them about the money.
Uncle Carl Joe didn’t say a word.
Then, about ten thirty, when we had finished eating, everybody got up and Aunt Radene said, “Best turn in; we can chaw on and on tomorrow.” And in about ten minutes everybody was in bed, except for Sue Ann and Sally Lynn, who were doing the dishes. I did ask if I could help, but they said no, so I just went to bed. I was really tired and also feeling really homesick for everybody.
I wonder if Carl Ray felt this way when he came to stay with us. How did he stand it? Everybody’s so nice to him here, and he’s lapping it up like a little dog. And they’re all looking at me as if I’m the strange one, and I can hardly get a word in, not that I would know what to say if I did get the chance. So I don’t say too much—just like Carl Ray at our house. It makes you think, doesn’t it?
It’s a little hard to get used to how primitive this place is. I still haven’t gone to the bathroom. I did walk out to the outhouse.
Oh, Supreme Being! I’d forgotten just how awful that outhouse is. It’s so dark inside. The only light that can get in is a little sunlight from a hole cut high up one wall. But also through that hole come flies and wasps and creepy spiders. There are spiderwebs in all the corners. I don’t even want to mention the smell. Arghhhh. I’ll wait until I am absolutely desperate before I go in there. Maybe Carl Ray was as afraid of our bathroom as I am of his. Maybe he was used to all this back-to-nature sum and substance.
Later the same day
I’m back on the porch swing. I’ve been sitting here most of the day writing letters. Everybody else has been rushing around doing chores, and whenever I ask if I can help, they say, “Naw, you just set awhile.”
I’m getting tired of “setting awhile.”
Still later the same day
I think Aunt Radene has the flu.
She did make dinner tonight though. We had fried chicken (again, because it’s Carl Ray’s favorite), gravy, boiled potatoes, corn on the cob, tomatoes, sweet potatoes, and fried peppers. Then for dessert we had chocolate pudding with whipped cream and also cherry Jell-O with bits of peaches inside.
We almost didn’t get the pudding because Aunt Radene dropped it. Arvie Joe was asking Carl Ray if he was sure he hadn’t seen any murders yet in The City, and Carl Ray said, “The only dead body I’ve seen was—” but he didn’t finish because that’s when the pudding slipped out of Aunt Radene’s hands. She doesn’t like to hear about dead people—I can tell.
Then, while Aunt Radene was scooping up the pudding, Arvie Joe asked Carl Ray about his job in the hardware store, so Carl Ray told them about stocking and orders and all that boring quintessence. Arvie Joe said, “They sure must pay you a lot, if you can afford that car.”
Carl Ray looked right at me, and I knew it was a warning, so I didn’t say anything—not until Arvie Joe kept going on about how much money Carl Ray must be earning. Just to participate a little in the conversation, I said, “Well, Carl Ray’s lucky. People keep giving him things—”
Carl Ray gave me a dirty look.
“Like what?” Sally Lynn said.
I was in trouble now. I fished around and fished around. “Well, like a job…” (Carl Ray relaxed a little) “…and a ring…” (Carl Ray gave me the dirty look again).
“A ring?” said Aunt Radene.
I was about to explain that it was the ring from Uncle Carl Joe, but then Uncle Carl Joe said, “A ring? What the blazes for?” Everybody looked at Uncle Carl Joé. I think those were the first words he said to Carl Ray since we arrived. I couldn’t tell if Uncle Carl Joe was pretending he hadn’t given the ring to Carl Ray or if he thought I meant that Carl Ray had been given another ring.
Carl Ray was staring at me. Then I realized that Carl Ray knew that the only way I could have known someone had given that ring to him in the first place was if I had been snooping in his drawers and read that card. I tried to move on. I said, “Oh well, he gave it away anyway.”
“You gave it away?” said Aunt Radene to Carl Ray.
“You gave it away?” said Lee Bob and Sue Ann.
“What did you go and give the ring away for?” asked Uncle Carl Joe.
But it was about this time that Aunt Radene fainted dead away on the floor (fortunately she missed the pudding mess), and Uncle Carl Joe and Sue Ann and Lee Bob all jumped up and started patting her face and everybody else was crowding around and then they carried her into her bedroom.
Carl Ray stayed in the room with her and the rest of us went back out and ate dessert. Sally Lynn said we could eat the pudding because the floor was “clean enough to eat up off of” and it “wouldn’t hurt us none.” It was good, even though I did find a dog hair in mine, but I didn’t tell anyone.
So then Sue Ann, Sally Lynn, and Brenda Mae did the dishes (I asked if I could help, but they said no) and now everybody’s getting ready for bed and I’m sitting here in the kitchen writing by the kerosene lamp. Aunt Radene is still in bed, but I can hear her voice. She’s talking to Carl Ray, so she must feel a little better.
I sure would like to know why Uncle Carl Joe seems so mad at Carl Ray and why they don’t talk to each other. And I sure would like to know when Carl Ray’s going to tell everybody about the money and the college education. Maybe he wants them all to believe that he is making a ton of money working in a hardware store.
I’m going to the outhouse. I can’t put it off any longer. If I don’t come back, tell Alex I lovvvve him. And my parents too. And Maggie, Dennis, Dougie, and Tommy.
Sunday, July 29
(I survived the outhouse.)
After breakfast, I went with Lee Bob, Sue Ann, and Sally Lynn to the swimming hole. It is the greatest place in the world. You have to climb a big hill out back and then go through some woods and then down a steep hill by way of a narrow path, and at the bottom of this hill is a creek and you follow the creek along for a while and then you come to the swimming hole. It’s not very big, maybe fifteen feet across, but it’s pretty deep in the middle. There are trees hanging over it, so when you float on your back, you can look up and see tons of leaves. All around the edges are old fallen logs. One of these sticks out into the water and Lee Bob dives off it. No one else is brave enough to.
Well, we were having a great time. I thought I was in a magical place. But all of a sudden, Lee Bob yells “Sna
pper!” and everybody starts flailing around trying to get to shore. I didn’t know what was going on. They were all yelling at me to get out and hurry up and, boy oh boy, I scrambled out so fast.
They were all pointing over to one side. “What is it?” I kept saying.
“Snapper! Snapper!”
“What’s a snapper?”
They all looked at me like I was an imbecile.
“Snapping turtle, dummy,” Lee Bob said.
“You mean there’s a snapping turtle in there?” I said.
“Couple of ’em. You gotta watch it or they’ll get your toes.”
After a while, everybody went back in the water. Everybody but me. I’d had enough swimming for one day.
I was suddenly reminded of Mr. Furtz. Swimming in that hole all happy and everything and then hearing “Snapper!” reminded me of how we were going along all cheery as clams when the phone rang that day and we found out Mr. Furtz was dead. Snapper! It makes you a little afraid to get back in the water. Is that a metaphor?
I’m the same age as Sally Lynn, but the funny thing is that even though I’m from The City, she and Sue Ann seem a lot older than I am. They’re always talking about boys, and you can tell from the way they talk that they’ve been going out with boys for a long time. Sue Ann said that three of her best friends, who are the same age as she is, are engaged to be married!!!! Imagine!!! And Sue Ann’s best friend, who is sixteen years old, is pregnant! And no one seems to mind! Some things seem a little advanced here in West Virginia. What’s the hurry??? My mother would have a fit.
Sue Ann and Sally Lynn kept asking me about Alex, but I kept trying to change the subject, because I knew they would want to know what-all we did (in the way of messing around) and I was pretty sure they’d think that what Alex and I did was pretty babyish. I mean, if they knew that we hadn’t even kissed, they would laugh themselves silly. Maybe Alex will kiss me when I get back. I ought to practice.
The Disguise
I’ve been “settin’” on the porch reading the Odyssey. Odysseus finally reaches Ithaca (his home), and instead of going right to his house (as I would have) he goes to an old shepherd’s hut, disguised as a beggar.
Telemachus (his son) comes along, and at first Odysseus goes on pretending he is a beggar, but then finally he lets his son know who he is. That’s a nice part, because they both start crying and all. I liked Odysseus better then, because I was beginning to wonder if he had any feelings. It was beginning to seem like all he did was sack cities and poke out the eyes of monsters and go on and on about how clever he was.
Later
Aunt Radene said she was feeling “a mite better,” but she didn’t look well at all. Her eyes were all puffy and even her freckles were pale.
Do you know what she asked me? (Of course you don’t.) She said that Carl Ray told her all about the money he received at Mr. Biggers’s office and about the college education. “Any idea who that was from?” she asked.
“Nope,” I said.
“Well,” she said, “I’m gonna ask you something strange, and if’n you’d rather not do what I’m gonna ask you, you just tell me straight on out and I’ll abide by that. But if’n you’ll do what I ask, I’d be beholden, Mary Lou Finney.”
I love the way she talks. And I think I understood what she said.
So she went on, “Now, Carl Ray has told me about gettin’ this money and a education from some stranger, like I said, and I know you know about that already.”
I was nodding.
“So what I want to ask you is this: I want to ask you not to tell Uncle Carl Joe or any of the kids about Carl Ray gettin’ this money and all. Would you do that for me?”
I said, “Sure, Aunt Radene. I won’t tell if you don’t want me to.”
She patted my hand.
“But,” I said, “could you tell me why you don’t want me to tell?”
She chewed on her lip awhile and then said, “Well, now, that’s a fair question. It sure is.” She chewed on her lip some more. I have a feeling she didn’t want to tell me.
Finally, she said, “There’s just some things that ain’t nobody’s business, at least not yet, and the way I figure it is this: Carl Ray’s been lucky and he’s had some good fortune, but if the rest of ’em hear about some stranger givin’ him money and all, then they’re gonna want to troop on up to The City too. And Mary Lou, I don’t want ’em to go. Not yet. I don’t want ’em to go, ’cause I might not get ’em back.”
Well, it sounded reasonable to me, so I agreed.
But I do wonder why she doesn’t even want to tell Uncle Carl Joe. You’d think that Carl Ray’s own father ought to at least know about it. Maybe he would have an idea who gave Carl Ray the money. Maybe it’s some old army buddy of his or something. Maybe it’s some long-lost maiden aunt of Uncle Carl Joe’s who is about a hundred years old.
So I’m going to keep the secret, but there’s something funny about all this, don’t you think?
Boy, am I homesick!! I sure wish I could call home.
And later
Arghhh. Arvie Joe has been telling ghost stories out on the porch. He claims that every single one of them is true, and all the ghosts come from the graveyard in the front yard.
The worst one was about this young boy who got his head chopped off in some freak accident at a meat factory and how his body is always roaming around the yard looking for his head, and how his head is always somewhere around moaning and calling for his body. Oh, the noises Arvie Joe can make! He imitates the head calling for the body: “Ohhhhhh, bod-eeeee, where are youuuu?” He makes the head sound real sorrowful and gruesome, just the way a head might sound, I guess, if it was looking for its body. Anyway, right near the end of this story, Arvie Joe jumps up all of a sudden and gets this god-awful look on his face, and his mouth hangs open and he starts backing away from us and pointing out into the yard, and we all look out there and Arvie Joe says, “There it is. The head! There it is!” And we all look, but we can’t see anything, it’s so pitch black out there, and then Arvie Joe starts screaming and saying, “It’s coming, watch out, it’s coming!” and we all run into the house, screaming and shaking.
Uncle Carl Joe was sitting there in his chair, chewing his tobacco, when we all came running in. “Arvie Joe!” he said. “Quit scarin’ ’em, or I’ll tan you one.” But everybody was peering out the window and telling Uncle Carl Joe that the head was coming, and all of a sudden Uncle Carl Joe made these awful noises, just like Carl Ray did that day he chased me and Dennis and Dougie and Tommy at Windy Rock, and then he started chasing us around, and then Arvie Joe and Carl Ray joined in.
Boy, I mean to tell you I was scared about to death, with these three guys growling and chasing us, and the whole time I kept looking around for the head of that boy because I thought it might be chasing us too.
Boy, this is one strange family.
But you know what? It was the first time I’ve seen Uncle Carl Joe and Carl Ray doing something together and having fun. Afterward I saw the two of them walk down toward the graveyard together. I think they were actually talking.
And I’ll tell you one thing: I am not going to the outhouse at night anymore, flashlight or no flashlight. I’ll just have to wait until everyone’s asleep and use the pot that’s under the bed. Oh, Alpha and Omega, when will I be able to go home???
Monday, July 30
Oh yawn, yawn, yawn. I am so tired I could sleep standing up. I didn’t get any sleep last night.
First I had to wait until Sue Ann, Sally Lynn, and Brenda Mae were asleep (we’re all in the same room) so I could use the pot under the bed. Then I had one heck of a time trying to use that dumb thing, and just when I finished and I stood up, I tripped and knocked it over, and what a mess. So I had to sneak downstairs to find some rags to mop it up with.
And when I got downstairs, I heard Aunt Radene and Uncle Carl Joe arguing in their bedroom. Actually, I could only hear Uncle Carl Joe. He was saying something about “my blast
ed son.” I hope he didn’t mean Carl Ray, and I hope they’re not mad at each other again. I was afraid they’d hear me and think I was snooping, so I went back upstairs, and the only thing I could think of to mop up the pee with was my socks, so I blotted it all up and stuck the socks in the pot and pushed it back under the bed.
Then I couldn’t go to sleep because I kept thinking that the boy’s head was going to come in the open window (I sleep right next to the window), so I shut the window, but then I kept thinking that the head could still look in the window, and if it was a ghost-head maybe it could come through the window. So I put my head under the sheets.
Then I was pretty sure I could hear the head out there moaning. I thought I heard it say, “Oh, bod-eee, where are youuuu?”
I must have dozed off finally, because I had this awful nightmare. In it Mr. Furtz’s dead body was running all around the yard looking for his head, or at least that’s what I thought it was looking for, because it didn’t have a head on it. I was sitting in a tree (why was I sitting in a tree?) and then I happened to look next to me, and there, on the branch, was a head. The head fell out of the tree and landed on the body with a sickening glump, and I woke up. Thank the Deity!!! I was shaking to death. And then I noticed that the window was open.
I really want to go home.
Oh, and at breakfast this morning, cabbageheaded ole Sue Ann says, “Oh, Mary Lou, are you missing a pair of socks?”
“No.”
“Well, I found a pair of yours…”
“I’m not missing any socks.”
“…in the pee pot.”
Everybody started snorting in their oatmeal.
“After I peed in it,” she said.
Everybody was rolling off their chairs.
Arvie Joe said, “Normally, we don’t put our socks in the pee pot….”
And everybody’s gagging and snorting and rolling around.
Aunt Radene finally made them all shut up.
Boy, I can’t wait to go home.
Tuesday, July 31