Tarnished Gold

  "On my honor," he said, holding up his right hand. "I have changed. You see that, don'tcha?" He nodded emphatically to drive home his own claim.

  "You going to get cleaned up?"

  "Absolutely. You'll see."

  Although she was still suspicious, Mama agreed. She said she was doing so mostly for me. She tried on the dress. It was pretty and she was very pleased at how she looked in it. She made me try my dress on, too. She decided to take in the waist and let out the hem a bit, but otherwise, she thought Daddy had made amazingly fine choices.

  "It's been so long since we did something like this," she told me. "It's against my better judgment, but I think I'll let myself go a bit and trust him."

  On Saturday Mama washed and ironed Daddy's pants and shirt and then sat him on a rain barrel behind the house and trimmed his hair, beard, and mustache. He didn't put up his usual opposition. Scrubbed and pruned so even his fingernails turned from green-brown to clean, Daddy, looked his handsome self again. It was as if a human being had peeled off this smelly, grimy swamp creature and stepped forward..

  I watched Mama brush out her own hair and put her fancy combs in it, and when she put on the new dress and a little lipstick, she was about the prettiest woman in the bayou.

  Daddy rained compliments over her .He said it made him proud, proud to be escorting the two prettiest women in the bayou. Mama blushed like a young girl. She helped me with my hair, and after I put on my new dress, she stepped back and said "You might just catch yourself a handsome young man tonight. I hate to say your daddy could be right, but he could be."

  I hadn't been to a fais dodo since I was in, school. I hadn't made any new girlfriends, and most of the girls in my class had gotten married or were of living with relatives because there was someone nearby who would soon be marrying them. Evelyn Thibodeau had married Claude LeJeune, just as she had planned. He was doing well shrimping and owned two boats. Evelyn had a two-year-old boy and was pregnant with her second. Yvette Livaudis married her uncle's foreman, Philippe Jourdain, just as she had said she would, and then, a year later, gave birth to twin girls. I had just gotten a letter from her a month ago with a photo of her daughters inside. It took me a week to write back. I really had nothing new to tell her about myself, and it looked like her and Evelyn's predictions for me would come true: I would remain a spinster working beside Mama at our roadside stand forever.

  The night of the dance was warm, although a bit overcast with sprinkles threatening. I remember as the three of us, all fancied up, stepped out of the house, I felt hopeful. Maybe we could be a family yet. Maybe Daddy was telling the truth about himself, about the changes in him. Maybe there was a new future for me, waiting out there, waiting like some beautiful pink rose, waiting to be plucked.

  It wasn't until we were halfway to town that Daddy let out what his real motives were. Mama almost made him turn back. The truck took a big bounce. Daddy laughed and told us to hold on.

  "Don't want to see my beauties messed up 'fore we get there," he said. "By the way," he added, "I went ahead and promised out Gabriel's first dance."

  "What? What are you talking about, Daddy? Promised me to who?"

  "Jed Atkins's brother's boy Virgil is visiting from Lafayette."

  "An Atkins?" Mama wailed.

  "Nothin's wrong with him. He's got a good job working for Jed's brother."

  "And what sort of work is that?"

  "They have a busy service station in Lafayette. Jed says the boy's a master mechanic, a natural with engines."

  "Uh-huh," Mama said. "And what else about him, Jack?"

  "Nothin' else." He paused. "Cept one minor physical thing."

  "Physical thing? What might that be, Jack? Spit out the whole truth," she added quickly. "I know how truth always tastes bitter in your mouth anyway."

  "Zat so?" He hesitated. "Well, he has this birthmark on his cheek. Just a minor thing . . a big blob of red, but I told Jed my Gabriel especially ain't one to look down on a man because he got a little birthmark on his cheek. Ain't that right, Gabriel?"

  "Yes, Daddy," I said cautiously.

  "That's what I thought."

  "There's more to this story, Jack Landry," Mama said, focusing her eyes on him so intently, he couldn't look at her. "'What is it, Jack?"

  "Nothin' else. He's a strapping young man, tall, about my height, rich dark hair. . ."

  "How come he hasn't asked anyone to marry him, and how come he's not in the army, Jack? Mechanics ain't being excused."

  "Well . . he was in the army," he replied quickly.

  "Was? What happened?"

  "He got accused of something, but he swears he was innocent."

  "Accused of what, Jack?" Mama said. Daddy hesitated. "This is worse than pulling ticks out of a child's hair."

  "Attacking a nurse. Now, don't that sound stupid?"

  "Attacking? You don't mean sexually, do you, Jack? You do," Mama said, answering her own question. "And you want Gabriel to meet this man after what's happened to her?"

  "He was innocent. The woman was one of them, you know, one of them who likes men, all men, and he refused her, so she accused him and--"

  "And they threw him out of the army?"

  "After he served his time in the brig unfairly, yes. He's better off anyway. Probably would have been killed. He's a good boy, Catherine. I'll vouch for that."

  "It's like the devil swearing for Judas."

  "What's that?"

  "Nothing. And how much did Jed say his brother would give you if you arranged this marraige, Jack?"

  "How much . . . ! How could you accuse me of that?"

  "Easy," Mama said. "Now I know why you were so eager to get us to this fais dodo," she added, her voice thick with disappointment.

  "Why, that's a downright lie."

  "Just tell us how much money you were promised and get it all out, Jack, so we don't discover nothing under a rock later."

  "It ain't that he's paying me anything. He just said he would be sure we had something for our own nest egg. He's just a generous man when it comes to those who are members of his family," Daddy explained. "Now, ain't that a nice family to marry yourself into?" he asked.

  "Jed Atkins's family can't be much to holler about," Mama replied.

  "There you go, putting my friends down again. You don't let a man breathe, Catherine."

  "Breathing is not what worries me about them; it's what they do with their breath and how it stinks," Mama said with a knowing, small smile.

  "Nevertheless, Gabriel," Daddy said, leaning over to speak to me, "we ain't folks who look down on other folks because they've had some bad luck, are we?"

  "No, Daddy."

  "Tell your mother. It ain't like we don't have our own skeletons to keep in the closet, right?"

  "Yes, Daddy."

  "All I ask is you give the boy a chance. He's a shy one, which goes to prove he couldn't do what they accused him of doing in the army."

  Mama smirked. "Why did I let myself get talked into this?" she muttered. "I should have known."

  "Just relax, Catherine. Relax and let's have a good old time of it, no?"

  Mama closed her eyes as the truck bounced and swayed, but I had grown very nervous.

  The Crab House was a restaurant with a big ballroom in the rear. In it there was a small stage for the musicians who played the accordion, the fiddle, the triangle, and guitars. This fais dodo was one of the most popular of the year. People were streaming in and out the front door, and we could hear the zydeco music as we pulled into a parking space. Cajuns brought their whole family to dances like this. A room was set aside in the Crab House for the small children, many of whom would fall asleep while their parents danced or played bourre.

  When we entered, there were those who knew Mama and were surprised and happy to see her attend. Many of them used the opportunity to complain about one physical ailment or another and get her advice. A number of Daddy's friends were gathered around the beer barrel, drinking and sucking o
n crawfish. I saw Jed Atkins wave to him and then saw Jed coax a tall, slim young man forward.

  "Come on, Gabriel," Daddy said. "I'd like you to meet Virgil."

  Reluctantly, with Mama flashing warnings and disapproval my way, I walked alongside Daddy. He and Jed shook hands vigorously, and Jed handed him a cup of home brew.

  "Hello there, Gabriel," Jed Atkins said, turning to me.

  "You sure grow'd into a fine young lady since I seen you last."

  "I saw you just a few weeks ago, monsieur."

  "Oh, yeah? Must've been a little under the weather. Don't recall." He laughed. "This here's my brother's boy, Virgil," he said, pulling him forward.

  Half of Virgil Atkins's left cheek was covered with a patch of cardinal red skin, the ridges in it lifted slightly. He had dark eyes, a thin nose, and dark brown hair, the strands unevenly cut just below his earlobes. His lips were thin, too, resembling a stretched-out rubber band.

  "Hello," he said. He sipped some beer.

  "Well, ain'tcha going to ask her to dance, Virgil? If I were your age, I would," Jed said. "I used to do a mean two-step when I was younger," he added.

  "Sure. You wanna dance?" He had a silly, soft smile, impish like a boy who liked to tease.

  I gazed back at Mama, who was watching us while two elderly ladies jabbered in both her ears.

  "I think I'll have something to eat and drink first," I said diplomatically.

  "Fine. Go fetch her a plate, Virgil. Show her you got manners," Jed said. "These dances are more for you young people than for us old coots," he added, looking at me.

  "Right," Virgil said. "Everything's better on a full stomach." Daddy and Jed laughed. Virgil and I walked toward the food.

  "I'll getcha a bowl of gumbo," he said, elbowing in between two young boys. After he got us the food, he nodded toward an empty table. "I could getcha a beer."

  "No. I'll just have a lemonade," I said.

  "Don'tcha drink? All the young girls I know drink these days," he said with a wry expression.

  "No," I said.

  "You go to a lot of dances?"

  I shook my head. He scooped the gumbo into his mouth quickly, his eyes fixed on me.

  "You're a pretty girl," he said. "My uncle told me your daddy been keepin' you hidden away." He flashed that small smile again.

  "No one's keeping me hidden away," I said sharply. He laughed.

  "Why ain'tcha got a steady boyfriend then?"

  "I did have," I lied, "but he had to go into the army." "Oh?" His smile evaporated. "Uncle Jed didn't say anything about that."

  "Not everyone knows. He writes me a letter every day." "Where's he at?"

  "I don't know. It's a secret."

  He gazed at me suspiciously and drank some more of his beer. Then he smiled with confidence again, as if he had concluded I was making it all up.

  "If I get up and get me another beer, will you still be here when I get back?" he asked.

  "I haven't finished eating yet," I replied, which satisfied him.

  I was nearly finished by the time he returned. He had brought me a glass of beer, too.

  "Just in case you change your mind," he said.

  "I don't like beer."

  "Oh? Whatcha like, wine?"

  "Sometimes."

  He nodded. "You look like a girl who has rich tastes. Betcha that's why you're still not married, huh? You're waiting for a rich catch?"

  "No. Money has nothing to do with it."

  He laughed, skeptically. I felt sparks of anger catch in my chest and send a heat through my body.

  "I'd like to return to the dance hall," I said, rising. "Okay. I ain't the best dancer in the world, but I'm as good as most."

  I froze for a moment. I hadn't meant I wanted to dance with him, but he obviously had taken it that way.

  "You wanna dance, don'tcha?"

  "Okay," I said. My tongue was so reluctant to form the word, I almost choked, but I got up and went on the dance floor with him. When I looked over toward Daddy and Jed Atkins, I saw them grinning from ear to ear. Mama, who was standing with some of her friends nearby, glared in their direction, the sparks flying out of her eyes. Daddy ignored her.

  The truth was, Virgil wasn't a bad dancer, and I did enjoy the music. He took it as a sign I was comfortable with him and liked him.

  "I play a mean washboard," he shouted into my ear, and laughed. "Me and some friends get together at the garage and fool around. We played for a fais dodo once."

  "That's nice," I said. The music got louder and faster. Virgil started to sweat profusely. He unbuttoned his shirt and gulped some more beer.

  "Let's get some air," he cried finally. I was going to excuse myself and join Mama, but she was into a heavy conversation with two of her friends and had her back to me, and I couldn't think of a good excuse. "Come on, let's have a smoke."

  "I don't smoke," I said.

  "So you'll watch me." He took my hand and I went out with him, looking back once to see Jed Atkins pat Daddy on the back and the two of them toast each other.

  We went out the rear door into the parking lot. Virgil dug a pack of cigarettes out of his top pocket and pounded one out. He lit it quickly and threw the match into the air, laughing.

  "Bombs away. So you like living here?"

  "Yes," I said.

  "I got my car right here. Wanna see it? I souped up the engine myself." He pointed to a customized automobile with a lightning streak painted in yellow across the driver's side. "It's a drag car, you know."

  "I don't know much about cars."

  "Whatcha think of it?"

  "It's nice," I said with thick indifference.

  "Nice? It's more than nice. It's a prizewinning vehicle. You know, I won five hundred dollars in races already this year?"

  "I'm very happy for you," I said. "I think we better go back inside." I started to turn toward the door when he reached out to seize my wrist.

  "You're very happy for me? Boy, you're sure stuck on yourself, ain'tcha?"

  "I am not."

  "You sound like you are." He flipped his cigarette into the air and it bounced over the parking lot, sparks flying every which way. He still held my wrist. "Whatcha want to hurry back inside for? Just a lot of old people and kids. Come on, I'll take you for a spin in my car."

  "No, thank you."

  "No, thank you," he mimicked, laughed, and then he put his left arm around my waist and drew me to him before I could resist. He pasted his lips to mine with a wet kiss as his hand fell to my buttocks and squeezed. I struggled to free myself, but he held on tighter, pressing his tongue into my mouth with such force, I couldn't even block it with my teeth. I gagged and finally broke free, wiping my lips with the back of my hand.

  "How dare you do that?"

  "What's the big deal? You've been kissed before, ain'tcha?"

  "Not like that and not without my wanting to be kissed."

  He laughed. "Don't put on airs. I know all about you, how you was pregnant with someone else's baby," he added. I felt the breath leave my body and my blood drain down to my feet. "It's all right. I don't care about it. I still like you. The truth is, I learned it's better to have a woman already broke in. Learned that in the army. We'll go for a ride and get to know each other and maybe we'll get hitched. Come on," he urged, stepping toward his car.

  "I wouldn't go with you if you were the last man on earth," I said.

  He laughed. "For you, I might just be. Once everyone knows about you, no one's going to come around asking you to marry him. You wanna be livin' with your ma and pa till they got no teeth? I can make you happy. Better than that other man did," he added with a leering smile.

  "You're disgusting," I said, and pivoted.

  "Last chance," he called, "to have a real man."

  I didn't reply. I couldn't get away from him fast enough. When I stepped back into the dance hall, I looked desperately for Mama and spotted her talking to Evelyn Thibodeau's mother. She took one look at me and excused herself
quickly to walk across the hall.

  "Gabriel?" she said. "What's wrong, honey?"

  Tears were streaming down my cheeks. "Oh, Mama," I said, "he told. Daddy told about me so that boy thought he was doing me a favor to ask me to become his wife."

  She straightened as if her spine had turned to steel. When she looked for Daddy, she found he was already well on his way to a good drunk, all his buddies around him, laughing and guzzling beer and whiskey as fast as they could. She and I stood behind him. He stopped laughing and looked around fearfully for a moment.

  "We're going home, Jack," she said. "Now!"

  "Now? But . . I'm jus . . havin' some fun."

  "Now," she said again.

  He grew angry. "I ain't running home," he replied, "to hear you roll out complaints."

  "Suit yourself," Mama said. She took my hand and we marched to the front door. "We'll walk home," she told me. "It won't be the first time I left him behind and I know it won't be the last."

  10

  Failing

  .

  Mama wouldn't speak to Daddy for days after

  the fais dodo. He didn't come home that night anyway, and when he appeared the next afternoon, looking as if he had slept in a ditch, she refused to give him anything to eat. She even avoided looking at him. He moaned and complained and acted as if he were the one who had been violated and betrayed. He fell asleep on the floor in the living room and snored so loud the shack rumbled. He woke with a jerk, his long body shuddering as if electricity had been sent through him. His eyes snapped open to see Mama hovering over him like a turkey buzzard, her small fists pressed against her ribs.

  "How could you go and do that, Jack? How could you run down your own daughter for an Atkins, huh?"

  He sat up and combed his fingers through his hair, gazing around as if he didn't know where he was and couldn't hear Mama screaming at him.

  "We put Gabriel through all that horror living in that dreadful woman's house secretly just so no one would know what a terrible thing had happened to her, and you go and spill your guts out to the likes of Jed Atkins? Why? Tell me that, huh?"

  Daddy licked his dry lips, closed his eyes, and swayed. He lay back against the settee for a moment, making no attempt to respond or defend himself.