Clover (14 page)

But you know, I do have sense enough to speak of how my father was, instead of how he is. I do know the past tense from the present and future. I'm not all that dumb.

But come to think of it, I'm not all that smart, either. Lots of times, I get my tenses all mixed up. To tell you the truth, this thing about my high IQ is not exactly right. Deep down I think I've fooled them all. Especially Everleen. She truly thinks I'm so smart I'm gonna make it to Washington, D.C., and out-spell everyone in that spelling bee.

Like I said before, Sara Kate is not letting up on this thing.

“There is also this leg thing, Everleen,” she says. “It worries me sick to see her limp. Perhaps it's how it happens. Clover will walk normally for days on end. And then, for no apparent reason, start to limp.”

There is dead silence. I know Everleen is thinking. Remember, she's been on me about that limp, too.

Sara Kate finally offers ice tea and cookies. I don't have to see them to know she will get out those fancy paper doilies and those fancy, high-priced cookies that don't taste worth a dime. That woman can spend more in a grocery store than anybody I've ever seen in my life. And we still never have anything good to eat.

Everleen has finally thought this thing out. “You know, Sara Kate, little girls grow into womanhood earlier now than they used to. And their bodies start to change. I was thirteen before my body changed over. Now that could be why Clover's leg aches her. To tell you the truth, Sara Kate, I been planning to talk to Clover, about, about, well, you know what, but I didn't. I figured with you being her stepmother and all, it was sort of your place to tell her.”

Everleen knows good and well she's not telling the whole truth. She's been trying to get up enough nerve to tell me ever since we got to the M's in the dictionary. Neither one of them need to tell me. It already happened to my friend, Nairobi, when she was only nine years old. I know, because she told me. I don't care if it never starts for me.

“I can only hope, Everleen,” Sara Kate is saying, “that all of this is not only in her mind. There is also this fixation that Clover has about her mother. She really thinks she can remember the things she did. Even the kind of clothes she wore.”

“Sometimes the good Lord gives visions,” Everleen says
quietly. My aunt can face up to anybody in this world. She never gets tongue-tied. If she is pushed into a corner, she'll survive. She will simply put the entire matter into the hands of the Lord. Grandpa always said, “It's hard to buck up against Him.” It's now another round for them.

“Let's be reasonable, Everleen. Clover does not remember her mother and it's not healthy for her to believe that she does.” Sara Kate's voice is firm. “I do believe that she needs medical attention. And if it's found that there is nothing wrong with her leg, then we'll know it's only in her . . .” Sara Kate stops short. She doesn't have to finish, Everleen knows what she was going to say.

Now if you know about all them half-crazy people in Everleen's family, you know good and well, the slightest hint that somebody in her family, like me, might have something wrong with their mind is going to set her off. Set her off like a match lit under a firecracker. Nobody is going to tell her she's got crazy kin.

I know my aunt is getting cross-eyed and her mouth growing out like Pinocchio's nose. That red hot temper inside her will heat up her skin like it's been microwaved. And her face will start to look all wet and greasy. She is some kind of mad then.

“What you trying to say in a nice fancy way is, the child ain't got right good sense. I don't go for some outsider coming in and trying to cook up that kind of mess.” Everleen is
getting loud. She starts talking loud and flat when she's mad.

I guess Sara Kate would have had me at some kind of doctor a long time ago if she knew what was really going on in my head all the time. I know for a fact what's wrong with my leg. I hurt it. Hurt it, trying to find my daddy. I was in the backyard feeding the dog when I thought for sure I heard Gaten call me. I ran to the tractor shed. Then my mind told me to check out the woods. I fell over a log and almost broke my leg, but I didn't find Gaten.

That old empty hammock in the yard bothers me a lot, too. Nobody, but nobody, ever uses it any more. It seems to still hold only the imprint of my daddy's figure.

I've never told anybody I even hurt my leg. And I sure will never tell that my leg seems to hurt more whenever I think about Gaten. I guess in a way I'm still thinking I'm just having a bad, bad dream and I'll wake up and see Gaten standing there.

Sara Kate said I keep getting those sharp pains in my eyes because I shift them so sharply and I'm always rolling my eyes. I keep cutting my eyes so sharp because sometimes it seems like I catch a glimpse of my daddy. I can understand all of that. It's what's going on in my head that worries me.

My daddy's funeral was a long time ago, but sometimes I can still hear the singing, children singing without music. Singing along with Miss Kenyon. Only Miss Kenyon wasn't
singing at all. She was only opening her mouth and moving her lips. Like Aunt Ruby Helen, sadness had swallowed up her voice. The singing is sad and sounds faraway like the sound of echoes bouncing across hills.

I think of the hearse that brought my daddy's body to our house for a last good-bye. In my head, the sound of the funeral cars start and stop, but it takes a long time for the singing to stop. The funeral program called the singing accappella or something.

The singing seems so real. The wake still seems pretty real in my head, too. The soft, soft music playing so quietly you could have heard a pin drop.

The crowds of people that filed by the open casket cast silent looks, and with noiseless footsteps made silent exits.

“Mama, mama,” a little girl whispered really loud. “Hush,” her mama whispered back equally as loud. “Is this what they call a wake?” the little girl whispered again.

A young woman in real tight pants and spike heel shoes made a quiet entrance and stood looking down at Gaten for a long, long time. “That's Minnie Faye Baker's daughter,” someone whispered. “She's right nice-looking,” someone whispered back. Outside a group of happy children played handball against the brick wall. Kuh thump, kuh thump.

The whispering, a few soft coughs, and many, many soft sad sobs were the only sounds that punctured the soft strange music.

I didn't know half the people who were there. After about thirty minutes they ushered us to waiting cars. The wake was over. The next day the funeral was held, then like the wake it was over. Yet it's all still left in my head. Sadness still floating about like heavy rain clouds. I don't like death one single bit.

I wonder, when will I become too old to stop remembering all that stuff? Maybe next year.

In the kitchen, Everleen is moaning and carrying on. “Lord, Lord, if Gaten Hill had even the slightest notion somebody was thinking there was something the matter with his baby child's mind, he'd turn over in his grave. He was proud of that baby girl of his. Lord, was he some kind of proud.” She sounds like she's going to cry. But she's not. She never cries unless somebody, anybody, dies.

But Sara Kate cries. “I'm sorry. So very sorry,” she whispers over and over.

Except for the crying, it's quiet for a long time in the kitchen.

Everleen finally speaks. “Clover's head is all right, Sara Kate. It's in better shape than ours. If that child limps, it's because of grief and sorrow. The child can't shake her sorrow. Just a few years apart she lost her grandpa and her daddy. The poor child ain't even got no mama. Don't you understand that or do you people have no feelings for your lost loved ones?”

Sara Kate draws a sharp breath. “I don't believe I've given you any reason to say that, Everleen. Remember, I lost Gaten, too. But it's Clover we're concerned with, and I am her mama now.”

Everleen must know she has gone too far. Her voice becomes soft and kind. “There is nothing wrong with our little Clover, Sara Kate. She is depressed, that's all. We can cure all that with just a little time and a whole bunch of love.”

“Perhaps you're right, Everleen. But I still think we should both keep an eye on Clover.”

After supper, Sara Kate and I watch television for a little while. On the coffee table is a book about girls growing up. Sara Kate has opened it to a subject on puberty. She doesn't want to be the one to have to tell me. I guess nobody wants to take on that burden. They always want to give it to someone else. I guess it's kind of good I won't have to put that burden on my daddy now. A few days later, on my bed I find a brand new little white bra and a rag doll. It seems Sara Kate knows I'm starting to grow up but yet she wants me to stay a little girl.

I do believe the leg business being in my mind is settled now. Sara Kate hasn't mentioned taking me to the doctor again. Sometimes when I'm playing, she will tell me not to hurt myself.

The only sad part is, it's only settled with Sara Kate and
my aunt. The truth is my leg really hurts a lot of the time. Right now it's hurting.

Maybe Everleen is right. The heavy load of pain and sadness is too much for my mind and soul. So my leg is helping them out.

I still think back on the day I got into real serious trouble with Sara Kate. It was, after all, partially her fault to begin with. She had no business making me come all the way home every day for lunch. Even if Jim Ed or Gideon did drive me. I've always been plenty satisfied eating Everleen's cooking.

At first coming home was great. If I didn't like the fancy lunches she made, Sara Kate would let me fill up on whatever I wanted, ice cream, cookies, or snacks.

Afterwards, sometimes we would sit on the front porch for a while. Sometimes we talked. Mostly we didn't, though. It's still kind of hard getting used to someone like Sara Kate. She just doesn't seem to fit in anyplace. For instance, for the length of time she has been here, the only company she's had outside of Gaten's people are people trying to sell something. I'll bet she has had a dozen insurance and Avon people here.

That particular day had started out bad. Sara Kate was in a terrible mood. She watched me play with my lunch. It was pretty enough, real fancy and all, but I sure didn't want to eat it. The day of the good old ice cream lunch is now history.

“Do you want to freshen up and change your clothes before you go back, Clover?” Sara Kate asked me. She kills me, always asking if I want to do something, instead of just up and telling me what she wants me to do. She knows she wants me to take off my dirty jeans and tee shirt.

“Sara Kate,” I say, “looks like common sense ought to tell you not to keep on asking me if I want to do this or that. You should know good and well that I am going to say no. Strange, you didn't ask me if I wanted this nasty lunch.”

She gave me a hard cold look. “Clover, I've been working really hard all morning. Yet I stopped in the middle of everything to make your lunch. It happens to be a very good one. But even if it isn't, you have got to learn to be appreciative, young lady. I happen to have feelings like anyone else.”

I turned my head away, thinking to myself what she said about working so hard. It blows me away that she calls sitting down in a cool air-conditioned house, drawing and painting designs, hard work. What my aunt Everleen does is hard work, picking peaches in the hot sun, and then
hanging around that hot peach shed all day trying to sell them.

Sara Kate is still eyeing me. “I suggest you eat your lunch, young lady.”

Well, when I told Sara Kate she could take her lunch and shove it, she really flew off the handle. She sort of lost it. “You apologize this minute, Clover Hill,” she screamed. Her face turned a bright red. Her eyes blazed.

To tell you the truth, I cannot believe I actually said what I did. I have never said anything like that before. It's truly too bad to repeat. I would have never said anything like that to Gaten. I started backing out of the door, but she stopped me.

One thing for sure, I am not afraid of the woman. Never was, never will be. There is no way anybody can be afraid of someone who is too kind-hearted to even kill a little gnat.

“Thank you very much for lunch, Miss Sara Kate,” I said and ran from the house.

Sara Kate followed right behind me in the truck. When she got there, you could tell she had been crying. “Everleen,” she said weakly, “we've got to talk.”

I can tell you, it's not a good feeling to know that you've made a grown woman cry.

They talked all right. Sara Kate told everything that happened between us. Exactly the way it happened. She even told her exactly what I'd said.

Even as bad as it all was, I still find it kind of hard to believe that Everleen took Sara Kate's side. But I guess what's right is right. Everleen was as mad as a stinging bumblebee. “That's no way to behave, Clover Lee Hill, it's unbecoming to you,” she told me. “I've been letting you get out of hand here of late. You are not a grown woman, even if you do think you are. You have no excuse for acting that way. It would be different if the woman was treating you like a dog or something.

“Now you just put in your head that you are a child. And as a child you've got to learn that many times older people know what is best for you. Whew,” she blew. I guess she had fussed out. She crossed her arms in front of her. “Now you tell Sara Kate you are sorry for the way you acted.”

For a long time, I just stood there. I studied Everleen's face, searching for some sign, any little thing, maybe just a slight wink, something to let me know it was just a front she was putting on to keep peace in the family. I needed a sign to let me know she was on my side. But there was no sign.

Everleen did not take her eyes from my face. She moved her hands and planted them firmly on her hips. “I am waiting on you, Clover,” she said, “but I sure don't plan to stand here and wait forever.”