The Improper Life of Bezillia Grove (6 page)

She nodded her head as if to punctuate her point and then handed me an old wooden tray. A large plastic pitcher full of lemonade and two Mason jars left it feeling heavy and awkward in my hands. I had never been served lemonade or tea or anything for that matter in a Mason jar. Maizelle said it wouldn’t be proper.

My little sister jumped up as I walked down the front steps. She wiped the hair out of her face with her dirty hand, leaving her cheek streaked with mud, Baby Stella dangling as usual by her side. It was as if the two of them had been hand-dipped in a vat of melted chocolate. Adelaide was whining, wanting me to come and admire her mud pies. But my arms were already aching, and I was afraid the tray might spill from my hands before I got to the barn. I told her to run up ahead and let Samuel know I was bringing him and his father some lemonade. But Samuel didn’t run to help me like he had Maizelle, and by the time I got to the barn, my arms were shaking.

“Well, lookie here! Look who’s come and paid us a visit, Samuel. And she’s bringing refreshments. I always knew you were my favorite, Miss Bezellia.” Nathaniel laughed, winking at Adelaide. She winked back as if they had already agreed that she was his true favorite. I spied a worktable a few feet in front of me, but my legs grew suddenly stiff, no longer willing to listen to my head. And the pitcher of lemonade began to slide toward the edge of the tray.

“Son, grab that before she drops it!”

Samuel threw down his hammer and ran toward me. He steadied the tray in his own hands and then nodded his head, reassuring me that I could let go.

“Shoo. That was a close one, Miss Bezellia. Sure would hate to lose Maizelle’s lemonade before even getting a sip. Don’t think she’d make me any more if it wound up on the ground.” Nathaniel laughed, now seeing that the tray was safely in his son’s hands. “Bezellia,” he continued, scratching his head as he talked, “you ever met my son before this week? I just can’t remember you two ever meeting. Samuel and I were talking about it on the way home last night. I’ve talked about each of you to the other for so long, I just assumed that you had.”

“No, I don’t think so,” I said, my arms falling heavy and tired at my sides. “But it was nice finally getting to meet you,” I told Samuel, and then crossed my arms in front of my waist to keep them steady.

“I’ve always kind of wondered what a Bezellia looks like,” Samuel said, barely even bothering to really look at me.

“Samuel,” Nathaniel snapped in a surprised but serious tone. “You know he’s going to be playing football at Pearl this year. Straight A’s too. I guess he’s gotten a little big for his britches and done forgotten his manners, Miss Bezellia.”

“I didn’t mean no harm. It’s just that, like Daddy said, I’ve been hearing about you all my life, and to be honest, I’ve never heard of anybody with a name quite like yours.”

“It’s definitely different, no denying that,” I said. It even sounded a little funny to me as I listened to it roll off the tongue of a stranger. It was almost as if I was hearing it for the first time. But I liked the way it sounded. I liked the way he said it. “Well, you’ll never forget me. My name, that is.”

“I guess we’ll see about that, won’t we.” Samuel laughed so warm and easy, as if he already knew something he wasn’t quite ready to share.

Nathaniel tossed his hammer down next to Samuel’s and then reached for the pitcher and poured two glasses of lemonade. “Bezellia, I think if your sister don’t get down to that creek soon, she’s going to dry hard as a nut, and we might have to crack her open like a pecan growing on one of those trees back behind the house.”

Adelaide immediately started crying and jumping up and down. And even though she did need to be soaked and scrubbed, I couldn’t help but wonder if Nathaniel had done that on purpose. I wondered if he could tell that I liked it when his son said my name. I wondered if he could tell that I liked it when his son looked at me. I wondered if he could tell that I was looking back.

By the time we got to the water’s edge, the mud was starting to dry hard on Adelaide’s skin. She stood on the bank, waving her arms in the air and screaming, “Get it off. Get it off. I don’t want to be a peanut!”

“A pecan,” I corrected her and then reached for a branch hanging low over the bank’s edge and sidled my way down the grassy slope and into the creek. The water felt cool around my ankles, and I quickly found my footing in the pebbles that covered the creek’s floor. I stretched out both arms, and Adelaide leapt toward me, still clutching Baby Stella in her right hand.

Before she had both feet firmly planted beneath her, she plopped her bottom down in the water and started rubbing her arms and legs with her muddy hands. I crouched behind my little sister and untied her braids, carefully working my fingers through her curly brown hair. I cupped my hands, lowered them into the creek, and poured the water over her head.

“How ’bout that, you’re starting to look like a little white girl again,” I said, gently cleaning her shoulders and back. “I was beginning to wonder if you were one of Nathaniel’s daughters and not a Grove after all.”

Adelaide giggled and continued to wash the mud off her legs, rubbing her knees so hard I was afraid she might make them bleed. Then she locked Baby Stella between her thighs and started pouring handfuls of water over the doll’s plastic head.

“I think that’d be nice,” she said.

“What would be nice?”

“Being Nathaniel’s daughter.”

I laughed out loud. But when I saw Adelaide’s serious expression, I hid my smile behind my hands.

“Why’s that so funny?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I guess if you were Nathaniel’s daughter, you’d be as dark as that mud, and that just seemed kind of funny to me.”

“Yeah, so? That mud’s a pretty color. Besides, I like Samuel.”

“Samuel?” I was surprised to hear his name, and for a moment I wondered if even Adelaide had caught me admiring him.

“Yeah. Samuel. I’d like Samuel to be my big brother. And if I was Nathaniel’s little girl, then Samuel would be my brother, right? I think that’d be real nice.”

I retied my sister’s hair in one short braid and then softly stroked her neck, rinsing the last traces of mud from her tiny body. “Well, there’s no big brother that’s going to wash the mud out of your hair like I just did.” And then I playfully poured one more handful of water over her head.

Adelaide stretched her feet out in front of her and started kicking. She giggled and waved her arms, tossing water in every direction. I closed my eyes and asked her to stop, but she only kicked harder and giggled louder. I leaned back on my forearms and started kicking my own two feet. Adelaide’s laugh grew strong and full. It was a sweet, unbridled sound that came straight from the bottom of her belly. I had never heard such a rich, beautiful melody. I think that day Adelaide washed the mud and a whole lot of sadness right down that creek. All these years later, I can still hear her laughter ringing in my ears.

But Maizelle would be looking for us before long. She’d want to give Adelaide a hot, soapy bath before she started cooking the evening meal. She’d want to scrub her down one more time for good measure. I reluctantly guided my sister out of the water. And while I stretched out in the sun to dry my clothes, Adelaide crawled under the willow tree and started making a bed for Baby Stella. She needed another nap, Adelaide said, and we couldn’t leave until she’d had one.

The sun warmed my body, and I raised my arms above my head, offering myself completely to its touch. A bee buzzed back and forth across the field, and I could hear Adelaide humming a lullaby to her baby. I wondered if that doll, all snug in my sister’s little arms, felt as relaxed as I did. And for once, I really didn’t care how long Baby Stella needed to sleep.

A cloud moved in front of the sun, and the sudden dose of shade left my body feeling chilled and exposed. I opened my eyes and found Samuel sitting in the grass by my side. He was holding his hat over my head, staring down at me.

“What are you looking at?” I asked, now feeling very out of place by the creek I had known since I was a little girl.

“Your face. It’s all red.”

I touched my cheeks with my fingertips. My skin was hot and tender.

“That’s funny. How your skin can go from white to red in no time at all?” Samuel said. “You really ought to wear a hat,” he went on, and he pointed to his own tattered blue ball cap.

“Guess so,” I quipped. But Samuel just sat there, shading my face.

“Daddy said there was some water here along the tree line where I could clean up a bit. Said he used to fish down here when he was a boy. We’re heading straight to the bus station to pick up my grandmother. She’s coming up from Birmingham.”

“Nathaniel’s mother?” I asked, feeling more and more surprised by the discovery of Nathaniel’s very own family tree.

“Yep. Nana comes up every summer for two weeks.”

“Nana? Huh, that’s funny. That’s what I call my grandmother.”

“Why’s that funny?”

“I don’t know, just seems funny. Besides, I didn’t even know his mother was still living.” The way Samuel looked at me I figured he thought I was saying more than I was, and I didn’t care for that either. “Didn’t you come here to clean up? Well, go ahead. Help yourself. It’s not my creek.”

But he just sat there, staring at me, holding his hat over my head. I looked down and saw that my shirt was still damp, and my bra was showing as if I wasn’t wearing any shirt at all. I crossed my arms over my chest and sat straight up. Samuel politely smiled, understanding that he had taken in a little more of me than he should have. I really didn’t think it was right for
any
boy to be noticing my breast size. Mother would definitely not approve, and yet I found myself puffing my chest out as far as I could to convince Samuel that there was more to see than he had first thought.

He smiled again, and his forearm grazed my hand. He leaned forward and tugged off his tennis shoes and socks. Then he rolled up his blue jeans to his knees, revealing strong, muscular calves. He grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked it over his head, exposing his bare back. And now I felt like I was taking in more of Samuel than I should have.

He tossed his cap on the ground next to me and walked to the edge of the creek. He stepped into the water and sat down on his bottom, just like Adelaide had. I could hear him exhale, the heat and sweat of a long day pouring out of his tired, hot body. He leaned back on his elbows, the cool water rushing past him, and stared up at the sky.

“Hi, Samuel,” Adelaide cried from behind a curtain of branches. “Look! Look at my baby. I made her a crown, just like a real princess. See?”

“That’s real pretty, Adelaide,” Samuel answered, as he turned his body around so he could admire my sister’s handiwork. “Hey, why don’t you make your sister a crown while you’re at it? She’s kind of a princess, too, you know.” He looked back at me and smiled, but I didn’t feel like this boy was paying me much of a compliment.

“Adelaide!” I yelled. “C’mon now. We better be heading back to the house.” I jumped to my feet and straightened my blouse.

Adelaide started fussing and telling me that Baby Stella was not good and awake yet. I told her she’d be sitting in a tent somewhere in North Carolina if she didn’t pick that baby up right now and come with me. I was feeling anxious and clumsy, queasy and light-headed, and I was certain that the only other time I remembered feeling this way was when I was standing behind Mrs. Dempsey’s coatrack and waiting for Tommy Blanton’s lips to find mine. But a white girl doesn’t kiss a black boy, just wouldn’t be right. Everybody knew that. Then he smiled again. And for a minute I almost forgot who we were.

I walked toward the creek and up to Adelaide’s secret spot underneath the willow tree. Samuel was still leaning back in the water, staring straight up at the sky, as if he was lost in a dream.

“You know, someday I’m going to own a big piece of land with a big, wide creek running right through the middle of it, just like this one here, only bigger,” he said, as much to himself as to me.

“Uh-huh,” I mumbled, as I tried to retrieve my sister from deep within the willow tree.

“You can uh-huh me all you want, but it’s true. I’m going to have me some land. Yep, sure am. And a big house too. Maybe even bigger than yours.”

“Better be careful what you wish for, Samuel,” I warned, and again focused my attention on my little sister. “I mean it, Adelaide. We’ve got to go. I’m taking Baby Stella myself if you don’t move it. And I’m going to pack your trunk and call that camp in North Carolina as soon as I get back to the house.”

“No!” she yelled through the branches.

“Then come on.” And I blindly reached through the willow branches and grabbed Adelaide by the arm. She let out a sudden cry and tugged hard to try to free herself. But I held on tight to my sister’s tiny wrist and pulled her up. Samuel jumped out of the creek as if I had ordered him back to the house too. He had nearly buttoned his shirt by the time we started walking back across the field, and he indicated he was going to escort us home whether I wanted him to or not.

Adelaide was tripping along next to me, my hand clutched tightly around hers. Samuel quickly fell into place on my other side. We walked toward the house without saying much of anything, except for Adelaide interrupting the awkward silence with whiny comments about the gnats flying around her head or about the grass sticking to her legs. We stopped in a patch of clover so she could make another crown for Baby Stella, since the first one had fallen off somewhere along the way. Samuel made one, too, and then placed it on my head.

“There,” he said. “You are a princess after all.”

Adelaide looked at me and giggled. “You do look like a beautiful princess, Bezellia.”

“Why do you keep calling me that, Samuel? Why do you call me a princess?” I demanded, snatching the clover ring from the top of my head.

“Okay, you live in a castle for one thing. You have people waiting on you for another. And you sit on that porch and read while everybody else is working to make you happy. Sounds like a princess to me, at least what I know of one.”