Cousins Page 3

“Swell,” said Richie.

  Andrew laughed. Then he said, “You ran off, Cam. I don’t fashion that.”

  “Were you driving around looking for me?” she asked.

  “Sure,” he said. “Had to find you before Mom got home.”

  “You’re not mad at me?” she asked.

  He smoothed her hair back with the towel, as he drove, drying it more. “Oh, you’re about up to par today, kid,” he said. “Who could get mad at that? And getting yourself wet in a storm.”

  “I got soaked before now,” she told him, explaining about Aunt Effie.

  “No kidding, she came after you?”

  “Great,” Richie said. “Now she’ll get on me for being around you guys.”

  “Aunt Effie and that brat sister of yours are both weird, Richie,” Cammy said.

  “Maybe Aunt Effie will forget about telling Maylene,” Andrew said, “but I doubt it.” He thought it amusing to call his mother by her first name. Maylene didn’t think it was.

  The conversation hung on the air. Richie didn’t like the way Aunt Effie was, either, so he said. They couldn’t get along for more than five minutes. Still, he didn’t care to hear his cousins talk about her.

  Andrew and Cammy knew that. Her brother gave her a look and she knew to stop talking about Aunt Effie.

  The sky was bright gray at the storm’s edge. Just a line of blue showing, but more to come. Cammy had her head on Andrew’s shoulder. Her legs were crossed like a grown-up girl. Her knees stung where she had fallen. She tried to forget about it, resting her hands easily in her lap. Richie had his window open and Cammy’s shoulders were getting chilly.

  “I want to go home,” she said, looking up at Andrew. “I’m pretty wet and cold. I think I scraped my knees some.”

  Andrew glanced over at Richie. She heard Richie’s window roll up.

  She was turned to Andrew. “Andrew?” she said.

  “Shhh,” he said. He was listening to the radio. Some song about “You drive me crazy when I’m with you.” She didn’t much care for love songs. Andrew seemed to like them; Richie, too. They would stop what they were saying to listen when a love song came on. Like they were trying to learn something.

  “Dumb stuff,” Cammy said, under her breath.

  “So, Gram Tut was okay today?” Andrew asked her, when the song was over.

  “I don’t know,” Cammy said. “I guess. She talked some. Old Man Vance came in and bothered us.”

  If Cammy had known her brother was going to ask, she would have been ready. She would have had time to close herself off from how she felt about Gram Tut. From how she loved her just to death and hated Patty Ann for teasing so mean.

  Old, funny Gram, I love you much! She missed coming home to find her Gram in the rocking chair, snapping some beans.

  “You are snappy, yourself, just like them green beans,” she’d told Gram.

  And Gram said, “Those green beans, child. Don’t they ever teach you the proper English in school?”

  Cammy’s eyes filled with tears. She sniffled and moaned a high, sad sound.

  “Come on now, Cam, don’t do that,” Andrew told her. He put his arm around her shoulder, patted her.

  “Andrew, Gram Tut’s going to die!”

  “No she’s not,” he said. “Least, not for a long time.”

  “She’s old!” Cammy cried.

  “Well, there’s lots of old people,” he said. “They walk around every day and they’re all not going to pass on tomorrow.”

  “No, but …”

  “No buts, Cammy. I swear, Gram Tut’s not about to go anyplace just yet,” Andrew said.

  “When’s the last time you saw her?” Cammy asked.

  He was quiet a moment. “Last Sunday,” he lied. He couldn’t bear to see his Gram wasting away like that. “On my way over to see Dad.”

  At the mention of their dad, Cammy sat up straighter and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. She had the feeling he could see her. He listened to every word she said. Cammy never could say about her father. She’d been so young when he first was out of the house. When he came over now, a rare event, she just sort of circled around him, stared at him, said nothing much to him. Sandy hair and light eyes. Not that she felt there was something missing at home. But she suspected he fit somewhere between their days and nights. A shadow something, before dawn and after sundown.

  “I haven’t seen Gram Tut in six months,” Richie said. “Mom don’t ever say Patricia Ann has to go see her.”

  Cammy remembered something Patty Ann had said. “Andrew, is it true that Gram Tut is in a fate-all position?” She thought that was the way Patty Ann had said it.

  “A what?” Andrew and Richie both asked.

  “A fate- or fete-all position? It sounded like,” Cammy said. “Patty Ann told about it.”

  “It’s a place to die in, you mean?” Richie said.

  But Andrew was grinning; then, he caught himself. “S’nothing for you to worry about,” he told Cammy. “You just go visit Gram Tut anytime you want to. Anybody bother you, tell ’em to come see me. Tell Gram Tut I said hi and I miss her, too.”

  Richie made up reports about having seen Gram Tut to please Aunt Effie. Patty Ann knew he was lying. She told Cammy; then, she was sorry she had.

  Everybody knew Richie was a barefaced liar. Andrew said that Richie would lie about anything even when there was no reason for him to lie. Like the time he said he helped rob the bank in downtown Dayton. He had a lot of money suddenly and spread it all around about being a robber. The police came and took him away. He was back the very next day, after Aunt Effie proved he had been with her brother working on constructing a playground—the only job he ever held for more than a week. Lasted a month before he didn’t show up one day, and the next and the next.

  Richie made up large stories, “exaggerations,” Cammy’s mama called them. Andrew said Richie didn’t mean anything bad by doing it. He said Richie felt anxious all the time and couldn’t help himself from making up things to make himself feel better.

  Andrew drove steadily, barely moving the wheel. Long sleek roads. Cammy sat up straight so she could see out the window. Fog had risen off the highway now from the rain, and hung above it. It swirled in the fields on either side of them, like white steam, rolling. Sunlight broke through low clouds. What rain there was, was misty. Then, the sun grew hot through the windshield. Andrew and Richie rolled down their windows. The breeze was warm. Hot sunlight ate up the clouds right before their eyes.

  “Let’s go home, I’m hungry,” Cammy said. “Mama will want to know where I am.”

  “She’s not home, yet. We’ve got time,” Andrew said, mildly. “Here, look in the glove compartment. Candy bar.”

  “Coo-el!” Cammy said, reaching in. It was a BabyRuth. She loved BabyRuths.

  “Anyway, I have to drop Richie someplace,” Andrew said.

  “Someplace where?” she asked. “Ummm, good!” she said, chewing.

  “Someplace where he can go see about a job,” her brother said.

  “But it’s about time for stores to close,” she said.

  “Night shift,” Richie said. “Anyhow. You got to wait on line.”

  “Huh?” She didn’t understand. The radio was loud. They were listening to songs again. She realized she had been shouting when she talked. They all were. The car was full of music swinging out the windows.

  Prob’ly scares the cows and horses in the fields, Cammy was thinking.

  They took the country roads, way out; and then came back. Cammy sensed they’d made a big square, going out where there were many houses. Whole ’burbs. And on the way back, they came to a great, huge, automotive place.

  “It’s a car mall,” she piped up.

  “It’s a truck plant,” Andrew said.

  “Wow!” Cammy said. There were hundreds of people. They made kind of a line but the people were sitting or lying down. They had blankets and small tents and thermoses.

  “What is going on—a
midnight picnic?” Cammy said.

  “Cool it, will you?” Richie said. “This is how you get a job.” He took up a paper bag he had between his legs and turned it up to his lips. Cammy saw the neck of a bottle.

  Swell, she thought. Richie offered the bag to Andrew, looking past her as he did so. “Gimme some, then,” she said, by way of a joke. They ignored her. It was then she saw Richie’s eyes were red-rimmed and crusty. The whites of his eyes looked full of blood. His hands trembled and his breath could knock out a bunch of old folks.

  Andrew wasn’t having any of the bottle. Shook his head. Richie screwed the top back on and stuck the bag and all into his jacket pocket.

  That surprised her. She turned to her brother, stared at him. She was deciding something. He wouldn’t look at her.

  “Thought it was you, Mama did, drinking,” she said. “It’s not, is it?”

  “Just close your face,” Andrew told her. Hard as nails. It hurt her when he spoke like that. She hadn’t expected it. He was being so nice to her.

  But she knew something. It was Richie had the alcohol, she was pretty sure, and not Andrew. Glad of that, she thought. He, Richie, who sometimes left his paper bag in the glove compartment and Andrew probably forgot to get rid of it. Her mama found the bags with their empty bottles and thought it was Andrew.

  “That crowd’s not going to get any smaller, Richie,” Andrew said.

  “Man, you want me to stay out here all night, and I haven’t got even a rock for a pillow?”

  “All night?” Cammy said.

  “You got a blanket and they’ll let you inside if it gets too damp or rainy out,” Andrew said.

  “You have to sleep on the ground?” she asked.

  They weren’t hearing her. They talked over her, as though she weren’t there.

  “Look how long the line is,” Richie whined. “I’ll never even make the door before the end of the day tomorrow!”

  “This is the only way, Richie. You have to wait in line and fill out an application.”

  “Man, what’s the use? They ain’t going to call. I’ve stood in umpteen lines and they never even know who I am when I try to find out something.”

  “No, because you never get your name on the lists!” Andrew said. “I’ve got my name on four different plant lists.”

  “But you already work for Dell’s Oil Change and Tune-up,” she said.

  Andrew sighed. “Come on, Richie,” he said.

  “Man!” Richie cried. But he got out of the truck.

  “You stay here,” Andrew told her, as she made to follow Richie. Richie slammed his door on her. So she leaned out the window, sitting on her feet so she could see better.

  All so many people. Andrew got a blanket out from the truck locker. He threw it over Richie’s shoulder. Richie staggered. Cammy thought he must be kidding. Then, he side-stepped and fell on one knee.

  “Man, Richie, straighten up!” Andrew whispered loud.

  Richie laughed. He reached for his jacket pocket and what was there.

  “No, you don’t,” Andrew told him. He yanked out the paper bag with its contents and took it to the truck.

  Richie stretched out on the ground. He had a silly grin as he spread the blanket over him and folded it over his arms.

  “Come on, Richie, get over in line,” Andrew said. He sounded tired to Cammy.

  “I’m making my own line,” Richie said. “Gimme my taste back, Andrew.”

  “You’re not getting any more, Rich. Don’t act stupid. You’ll catch somebody’s attention in a minute. You have to wait in line!” Andrew said.

  “I’m waiting, man,” Richie said. “It don’t matter where I wait.” He laughed.

  Andrew looked away to the crowd and then back to Richie again. His face kind of broke into pieces like he might cry.

  Cammy couldn’t believe he was going to cry. My brother? He stood there, looking at the ground. He shook his head and took deep breaths, sighs. She wondered if he and Richie would get into a fight. She wouldn’t mind seeing her brother wipe out dumb Richie once.

  Grab Richie up with one hand, Cammy thought. He needs a good shaking. Swing him around Andrew’s head and let him loose. That would be something!

  She smiled; looked aside before she got to giggling. So many people made her think they were all looking at Andrew and Richie, and then at her there in the pup.

  Suddenly, Andrew started to walk away. Then, he seemed to change his mind, and he came back. “I’m going but I’ll be back later on, in a few hours, Rich. Okay?” she heard him say.

  Richie had his eyes closed. Cammy could see he wasn’t too happy. He barely nodded.

  She watched as her brother came back to the truck. He had his head down and his hands in his pockets. She opened the door for him before he could do it.

  “Thanks,” he said, getting in.

  “You’re welcome,” she said, proud she had a brother like him. “But why so many people?” she asked, once he was settled. “Why don’t they all have jobs and stuff?”

  “Some do,” he said. “Some are looking for full time. Some just need work. Lot of people need jobs. This ain’t the best of times.”

  “No?” she said. Well, she knew it wasn’t. But most of the time everything looked pretty good to her. “You kidding me?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. “Lots of people don’t have dads like we have that can help them out with work. We’re lucky. I’m lucky. We’re all lucky that Dad’s nice enough to help Mom out still.”

  We’re lucky, she repeated in her head, in Andrew’s voice. But she didn’t quite see what lucky was, when you weren’t Patty Ann with new clothes all the time.

  Andrew started the truck. It sputtered a moment before it sounded smooth, like it was ready to roar down the street. When they did start, Andrew eased the car along. They went slowly home down country roads. Cammy rolled down her window and stuck her head out a minute. She put her hand out in the air, let the air fill her palm and knock it back.

  “Careful,” Andrew told her. “Branches stick way out over the road, sometimes.”

  “Oh,” she said. She sat up straight, both hands in her lap.

  4

  THEY WENT HOME. Andrew took his time and Cammy loved that, to get to ride with him by herself. Everything was okay between them. They were on each other’s side.

  They lived on the west side of town. Andrew swung the truck the long way around. The country road they came in on passed right by the cemetery, which was Dale Forest Cemetery. It didn’t have a forest to it anymore. Cammy’s mama said that long ago, trees had been cut down two by two to make way for graves. Gramper Em-un-Ems stayed in Dale Forest. It all made Cammy shiver, to think about him in his grave. She fought against the next thought, but it came through on its own and she couldn’t stop it. Gram Tut would stay right next to Gramper one day. Her bed was already made and paid for, her mama told her. Awful.

  They went by the pond. There were a great lot of ducks swimming and waddling, sitting in the shade right by the pond. It belonged to well-off folks who let you climb on the fence and feed the ducks. The ducks were beautiful. Andrew went slowly so she could see them. There was a low waterfall. In winter, the pond would freeze over and all the kids would ice skate. Except for her, and some few others around town, she guessed. Her mama was afraid of the pond and for the children maybe skating on thin ice.

  Andrew took the truck to the right and onto Highway 68. They went through the main street of town, which was Ames Avenue. There was one main business street and this was it.

  There were three stop lights on the Avenue. The first had a Dairy Queen with outdoor benches and tables, right there on the main drag where anybody coming into town could see you sitting. It was nice, sitting there; it was like saying, this is my town. She did that, sometimes. Had a sundae and sat right there practically under the stoplight. There was the Post Office and Laughing Pizza across the street from the Dairy Queen. A Sohio station and a House of Cards. Four corners and five pl
aces of business. That was because the Sohio and the Cards were both almost on top of one another. Cammy was listing everything for Andrew.

  “Don’t you think I can see?” he said.

  “I’m just telling you,” she answered. “There’s the Art House Movies and Gallegher Drugs.”

  “Come on, Cammy. Just be quiet, I want to concentrate on what I can see.”

  “Well …” she began.

  “Shhhh,” he said. There was his kind of music on the radio again. It was slow and bluesy, with a woman singing about going out the door. Andrew was listening and studying his driving while scanning the sidewalks to see who was out before supper. He waved a few times. Girls.

  They went on. Two churches, two filling stations, one drugstore, Cammy listed to herself, one bakery, a movie, a jewelry store called 68 Silver. A grocery called Cantrells. Something called Gormand-To-Go, Catering. Baum’s Hardware. Starr Bank, and Carry-Out, Beer, Wine. We-Cash-Checks’ Two I.D.’s.

  “That’s about it,” Cammy said, as the last light changed and Andrew turned the truck toward home.

  “Thanks for the riding,” Cammy said, once they were parked. “I’m about dry now, too.”

  “Well, you could change your clothes if you wanted to,” Andrew said. “Mom’s home.”

  “Is it that late?” Cammy said, and then, “How’d you know?”

  There wasn’t a sign that anyone was home. “I can tell when a house has somebody in it,” he said.

  “No, you can’t! You saw the light in the kitchen. You!” Cammy laughed and ran up on the porch, threw open the door and went running to the kitchen. Her mama was at the sink, cutting up vegetables. Her cup of tea was getting cold on the table.

  “Cammy, if you jump on my back, I’ll brain you.”

  “I wasn’t going to!” Cammy laughed and gave her mama a big hug and kiss. “Ummmm, you smell good.”

  “Hi, Cam, sorry I can’t say the same about you. Where you been?”

  “Been with Andrew and …” She was about to say Richie but stopped herself. Didn’t know how much her mama knew. “He took me for a ride.”

  Andrew came in and slumped in the chair at the kitchen table.