Lordie. The last day of July. Summer’s almost over.
About the most exciting thing that has happened so far today is that Arvie Joe took me along on his paper route this morning.
First, we got in this old truck that looks as if it was the first truck ever made, and we drove down to the general store to pick up the papers. Arvie Joe isn’t really old enough to drive, but he does anyway. He’s pretty good at it, too. Then we sat outside the general store folding the papers. You have to fold them in thirds and tuck one end inside the other so that when you throw them they don’t go flying all over the place.
It’s not like doing a paper route in Easton, where you just walk along and place a paper in front of everybody’s door. We’re so way out in the country here that you have to drive and drive—sometimes it’s at least three miles between houses. The houses are set pretty far back from the road, so Arvie Joe slows way down and then whips the paper out the window and up to the front porch. Boy, does he have good aim.
He did the first few houses himself, to show me how. If the house is on the left side of the road, it’s easy—he just whips the paper straight out his window. But if it’s on the right side of the road, he has to whip the newspaper up over the roof of the truck.
After he showed me how, he let me do the houses on the right side. I messed up the first few. I threw one in a birdbath, one about halfway up the lawn, and another one hit a chicken in the front yard. But Arvie Joe was real nice about it.
He said, “Don’t they teach you how to throw, up there in The City?”
I said that it wasn’t high on the list of things to teach kids, no.
“Well, it oughtta be,” he said. Then he asked me what was high on the list of things to teach kids. I had to think awhile. “I guess algebra and English and stuff.” (I didn’t think “sum and substance” would go over real well with Arvie Joe.)
“Besides school crud,” he said.
“Well, besides school crud, let’s see…swimming, maybe. Baseball, I guess. Tennis.”
“Tennis? God almighty.”
“Anything wrong with tennis?”
“Sissy game.”
“Ah.”
“What else?”
“That’s about it.”
“God almighty. What about your parents? Don’t they teach you stuff, like throwin’ and fixin’ cars and stuff?”
I had a hard time with that one. “Manners, I guess. My parents are big on manners.”
“Manners? God almighty, girl. Manners? Manners sure ain’t gonna help you when you gotta fix a car!”
He was dying laughing.
Anyway, that was the big excitement of the day, Arvie Joe’s paper route.
I’ve hardly seen Carl Ray at all since we got here. He’s always off in his car, visiting his friends. He has a ton of friends here. That surprised me, I guess. And I keep forgetting to remind him about Beth Ann. I’d better do that. Maybe he’ll want to leave if I start reminding him about his Cleopatra back in Easton.
It’s funny, but the first day we were here, Carl Ray seemed so happy and excited to be back. But the last couple days, he seems so quiet when he’s here (which, as I said, isn’t all that much). He talks to Aunt Radene a lot, and ever since he and Uncle Carl Joe had their walk in the graveyard, they seem nicer to each other. But they still don’t actually talk to each other, in front of me, anyway.
Well, I’m going to stop for now. John Roy and Sally Lynn just asked me if I wanted to climb up Booger Hill (the hill right behind the barn) with them. I have no idea why it’s called Booger Hill.
Later
I’m sooooo homesick. I really want to go home.
So I went, this afternoon, with John Roy and Sally Lynn to climb Booger Hill. They had packed some bologna sandwiches and Kool-Aid in a backpack, so we could have a picnic at the top.
John Roy was leading. He claimed we were following a path, but I couldn’t really see a path. On the way through the woods, they were telling me about a prisoner who escaped from a nearby prison two days ago. They were saying that he was armed and very dangerous. He’s killed all kinds of people, John Roy said.
“You don’t think he’d be around here, do you?” I asked.
“Naw,” John Roy said. “Why would he pick this hill? There’s millions of other hills he could hide out on.”
Sally Lynn said, “But he could have picked this hill, John Roy. He could have. Maybe he’s scared. Maybe he didn’t know which way to go. Maybe he’s starving to death.”
“Naw,” John Roy said. “If he’s such a good killer, he could kill all kinds of animals. He won’t be starvin’.”
“But he could be,” Sally Lynn said.
We climbed and climbed. I was getting a little tired, and my feet were killing me. I just had these cockamamie sandals on, but they were wearing work boots.
After we’d been walking for about an hour, John Roy said, “We’re almost to the cabin. We could eat there.”
“Cabin?”
“It’s sort of run-down and fallin’ to bits,” Sally Lynn said.
Pretty soon John Roy says, “There it is,” and he points to this pile of logs covered by some tarpaper. If you looked real hard, you could imagine that one time maybe it did look like a cabin.
We had just come up to the door (well, actually, there was no door, only a doorway) and John Roy said, “Whoa!” and Sally Lynn gasped and backed right into me, and I said, “What is it? What’s the matter?”
John Roy whispered, “Somebody’s been here. Look.” He pointed to some charred logs on the ground in front of the doorway. “That’s recent,” he whispered.
Then Sally Lynn said, “Lord Almighty, gum wrappers!” Then, before I could really see the gum wrappers, John Roy said, “Let’s get out of here,” and Sally Lynn yelped, and they took off running.
John Roy dropped the backpack with the lunch inside.
“Waittttt!” I shouted, but they didn’t even turn around; they just kept on running, so I took off after them.
John Roy shouted back, “Quit shouting! It’s the convict. He’s here.”
Once, in the fifth grade, I won first place in the hundred-yard dash at the school sports day. I ran like the wind that day. But compared to today, I bet that fifth-grade dash was a turtle crawl. I ran like crazy. I was sure that convict was going to reach out from behind any tree and grab me.
The worst part was that I couldn’t see either John Roy or Sally Lynn anymore. I could hear people running, but I couldn’t see them and I sure couldn’t see any path and I was just running and running. All I knew was that I was aiming downhill, but I had no idea where I was going other than down. Then I lost my sandal, but I kept on running. I was afraid that I was running right straight toward the convict or he was right behind me.
I ran and ran. It seemed like forever before I came to a creek at the bottom of the hill, but it wasn’t the place where we had started climbing. No sign of John Roy or Sally Lynn. I was sure the convict had already caught them. I figured I was going to have to find some help quick. I ran along the stream, thinking it had to lead somewhere, and finally I came to the swimming hole, so I knew where I was. I ran all the way up that hill, and when I saw the house, I started shouting for help and screaming my stupid lungs out.
Aunt Radene came out of the house and I was flailing my arms around, telling her about the convict and how he must have got John Roy and Sally Lynn and we had to get the police right away. I was so out of breath, I thought I was going to pass out.
The whole time I was trying to explain, Aunt Radene stood there looking at me as if I had lost all my marbles. Finally, she said, “Shh, come on inside.”
I didn’t want to go inside. I wanted her to hurry up and get some help and I wanted her to run, not poke along like she was doing. Then, all of a sudden, I see John Roy and Sally Lynn come strolling out of the house, each one drinking a glass of lemonade.
“Where you been, Mary Lou?” John Roy asked.
“Yeah, where you been?” said
Sally Lynn.
I stared at them. “Where have I been? Where have I been? Where in Alpha and Omega’s name have you two been?” I thought I was going to faint dead away right there.
“Alpha and Omega?” said John Roy.
“What are you talkin’ about?” said Sally Lynn.
“The convict!” I said. “Where’d you go? I lost you—”
“Looks like you lost your shoe,” said John Roy.
“Yeah, where’s your shoe at?” said Sally Lynn.
Aunt Radene was standing there, looking from them to me and back again. “John Roy,” she said. “Sally Lynn—”
But then I went crazy. I ran inside and upstairs and fell on the bed and I bet I sobbed for fifteen minutes. After a while I heard Aunt Radene come up and say, “Mary Lou,” but I pretended like I was asleep. Then I did fall asleep, and I slept right up until dinnertime, but I decided not to go downstairs. I decided I wouldn’t eat until Carl Ray promised to take me home.
Carl Ray is the one who finally came upstairs to tell me dinner was ready. I pretended to be asleep, but he sat down in the chair by the bed and picked up my Odyssey and started reading. Finally, I decided to open my eyes or they were going to start twitching.
I said, “What part are you on?”
“Where Telemachus realizes who the beggar is.”
“Oh yeah. And Telemachus and Odysseus cry. Carl Ray? Can we go home?”
“I am home.”
“I mean to my home. Can we go back? Pleeeassse?”
I thought I was going to start crying again.
He nodded.
“Does that mean…?”
“We’re going on Friday—”
“But couldn’t we go before Friday? Please? You could go out with Beth Ann then. Don’t you think you should get back? What if Beth Ann finds somebody else?”
“Somebody else?”
“Yeah. Like what if her old boyfriend comes back?”
“Old boyfriend?”
“Well, gosh, Carl Ray, you’re not her first boyfriend.” I guess I shouldn’t have said that. He looked sad.
“Can’t go before Thursday.”
“Okay then, Thursday. Could we leave Thursday?”
“Yup.”
Oh, I wanted to jump up and kiss that cabbageheaded Carl Ray! I felt better just knowing we could leave one day sooner. So I went downstairs with Carl Ray for dinner. Carl Ray is okay.
I thought everybody would fall all over themselves teasing me about Booger Hill and the convict, but Aunt Radene must have threatened them, because no one said a word to me all through dinner. John Roy and Sally Lynn didn’t say anything to anyone at all. They just stared down at their plates.
We’re going home Thursday!!! Day after tomorrow!!!
Wednesday, August 1
What a horrible morning. I can’t wait to get out of here. I don’t care if I never come here again.
First of all, I woke up with a headache and an earache. The headache was from not getting much sleep again. I had horrible dreams about being on a ship and I was trying to get home and there was this awful storm that made the ship toss and roll around and we couldn’t see where we were going. Carl Ray was there—I think he was the captain.
Anyway, I just knew I was going to die before I got home. I kept praying to Athene to please let me get home, and if she got me home, I would be a much better person. I woke up before we ever got anywhere, so I don’t know what would have happened. I didn’t want to go to sleep again, because I was afraid I would be back on the ship. So I lay there thinking about Alex and Mom and Dad and Maggie, Dennis, Dougie, and Tommy. I tried to picture their faces and hear their voices.
The earache is from swimming in the swimming hole, I think. It hurts so bad, I can hardly open my mouth. I tried to get Aunt Radene to take me to the doctor, but she said an earache was no reason to go to the doctor. I told her I might be dying. She said she had a remedy. Do you know what she poured in my ear? Olive oil! Honestly. I’m not a salad.
And I still have the earache.
But worse yet was what I heard Sue Ann and Sally Lynn saying about me.
I came back in from the outhouse, and I was about to go upstairs when I heard Aunt Radene’s voice in the living room. I thought I would go in and tell her that my earache wasn’t any better, but I stopped when I heard Sue Ann say, “And she’s such a baby.”
Then it went like this:
AUNT RADENE: Well, now, that’s still no reason to—
SALLY LYNN: Lordie, Momma, she doesn’t do a stitch of work.
SUE ANN: Have you seen her wash a single dish?
SALLY LYNN: And she doesn’t make up her bed.
SUE ANN: I have to make up her stupid bed.
SALLY LYNN: All she does is lie around and read.
SUE ANN: Or write letters.
SALLY LYNN: I’m just sick of her.
SUE ANN: Me too.
SALLY LYNN: She thinks she’s a queen.
SUE ANN: She sure does.
SALLY LYNN: Miss City Girl, Queen of Easton.
Well, I didn’t hear any more, because I ran outside and up to the barn and climbed up in the hayloft and sat there. Boy, was I mad. I was really mad.
First of all, the dishes: I have offered at least five times to help with the dishes, and they keep saying, “No, you go set awhile.”
Secondly, the bed: They don’t give me a chance to make it up. I get out of bed, get dressed, go downstairs, eat breakfast, and I come back up and it’s already made. I figured they liked to make it.
Thirdly: I am not a baby!!! I’ve only been crying because I am homesick and because they’ve been teasing me and scaring me to death.
Fourthly: Haven’t done a stitch of work!! They never asked me to do anything. I would’ve helped if they had asked.
Fifthly: All I do is write letters and read books! Well, what else is there to do around this place????
Sixthly: I do not act like the Queen of Easton!!!!!
I stayed up in the hayloft a long time. After I got through being mad, I started to think about Carl Ray.
I hereby apologize for complaining about making Carl Ray’s bed, for teasing him, and for calling him stupid, cabbageheaded, witless, beefbrained, boobish, besotted, cockamamie, and anything else I might have called him.
But I’m never going to speak to Sue Ann or Sally Lynn again.
Later
I didn’t speak to Sue Ann or Sally Lynn all afternoon.
Instead, while Aunt Radene was off doing the grocery shopping, and Sue Ann and Sally Lynn were God knows where, I swept the front porch (without anybody asking); I mopped the kitchen floor (without anybody asking); I dusted the entire downstairs (without anybody asking); I cleaned the living room (without anybody asking); I picked some flowers from the hill and put them around the house (without anybody asking); I swept and dusted the bedroom that I share with Sue Ann, Sally Lynn, and Brenda Mae (without anybody asking); and I was just starting on the windows (without anybody asking) when Aunt Radene drove up.
“Why, Mary Lou, what are you doin’?” she asked.
“Nothing. Washing windows.”
She said, “You don’t have to do that. You just set…”
“I don’t want to set!” I said.
“But you’re our guest,” she said.
“Tough,” I said.
When I finished the windows, I walked through the graveyard. It’s a strange thing, walking through a graveyard in the daytime. It’s not spooky, like it is at night. And it gives you this strange feeling: sort of a calm feeling in one way, and a very sad feeling in another way. When you’re in a graveyard, all the other stupid things like the convict and the things Sally Lynn and Sue Ann said, all those things seem ridiculous to worry about. And you wonder why you worry about them and why you let them get you so mad.
The graveyard is a pretty place, with flowers here and there, with all that grass, with those stones and the poems and sayings written on them, all about loving memory a
nd loving parents and loving sisters and loving brothers and time and heaven and sleep.
And I was so calm after walking around the graveyard that I lay down in the grass and fell asleep.
I dreamed a strange dream. It was about Carl Ray and some man with a sheet over his head, and Carl Ray was walking up to him in slow motion, and then he was lifting the sheet, and then the sheet was off and Carl Ray was hugging the man. And someone was calling me, “Mary LOUUU, Mary Louuuu, where are youuuu?” and then I woke up.
Aunt Radene was standing on the porch calling me.
So I went up to the house, and she said, “It’s dinnertime. Come on in.”
Boy, what a huge dinner. Fried chicken (again), mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, tomatoes, green beans, coleslaw, potato salad, and beets. Everybody was talking about how it was Carl Ray’s last night home (they didn’t mention me) and oh, they wished he would stay longer, and couldn’t he at least stay until Saturday, and I started to feel sick because I thought he might give in and say yes.
But then. It was time for dessert. Sally Lynn and John Roy went into the living room and came out with this huge chocolate cake and on it, in huge white letters, was “MARY LOU: WE’LL MISS YOU.”
And then everybody started talking to me all at once, and Sally Lynn said she was sorry about Booger Hill and John Roy said he was sorry about the convict and Sue Ann said she was sorry if I overheard them today (how did she know?) and that they didn’t mean it, and on and on. I thought I was going to cry, but I didn’t want to seem like a baby, so I chewed on my lip a lot.
That was a nice thing for them to do, don’t you think?
But still, I’m not sorry to leave and WE GO HOME TOMORROW!!!!!!!
HOORAY!!!!
Thursday, August 2
I AM HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We made it! The ship didn’t crash in the storm. Captain Carl Ray got us through. I am in my OWN room writing at my own NEW DESK. But, but, but. There’s more to tell first.
Where oh where to begin? Calm down, Mary Lou.
The trip. You can imagine, I guess, that I wasn’t real sorry to leave Aunt Radene’s, even if she did cry when she hugged me good-bye and even if Sally Lynn did give me a present (a book wrapped up in paper: it’s all about sex) and even if Aunt Radene did hold on to Carl Ray as if she wasn’t ever going to see him again.