Читать книгу Family Ties - Ernest Hill - Страница 10

Mr. Henry’s old green pickup truck was parked next to the house beneath the carport. Miss Big Siss followed me out to the truck, and once I had helped her climb inside, I went around to the driver’s side, got in, and slowly pulled out of the driveway, heading north toward the still blue waters of Lake Providence.

As I drove, I formulated a plan. When I reached Brownsville, I would park in front of my mother’s house, then cross the yard and take the stairs like one who belonged. And when she opened the door, her eyes would fall upon me, and she would cry, and then she would stretch forth her arms and pull me into her bosom, and all that had been wrong between us would be made right, and she would apologize for the ugly words she had directed at me all those years ago, and I would accept her apology, and the nightmare that had been our relationship would be never more. Involuntarily, I let out a deep sigh. Oh, if only this vision, which danced so vividly in my head, could somehow morph into the reality that I was so desperate to claim.

I turned left at the caution light and headed west toward Brownsville. The truck rumbled over the tracks, and I heard Miss Big Siss grunt. I looked at her; she was bracing herself against the door. I had been driving too fast. I gently pressed the brake and the truck slowed. Through the windshield, I spied a sign neatly nestled on the far shoulder: BROWNSVILLE 8 MILES. I swallowed hard, feeling my tepid skin flash hot. It just did not seem fair that I should have to deal with so much. Suddenly, I frowned. I could not picture my mother’s face. It had been so long since I had been in her presence that I simply could not picture her. How strange this was to me; she was my mother, and I could not picture her face.

In Brownsville, I spied a flower shop on the corner just off Main Street. Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. I should bring her something—a peace offering of sorts. I pulled into the parking lot and stopped, my eager eyes fastened on the sign hanging high above the tiny flower shop. I looked at the sign and then at Miss Big Siss.

“Maybe I ought to buy Mama some flowers?”

“That would be nice.”

“What kind?”

“Roses,” she said. “A lady is always partial to roses.”

“Roses it is,” I said. “A dozen red roses.”

I hurried from the truck and bound toward the door. Inside, I paused and looked around. An arrangement in the far corner caught my eye. I was starting toward it when a woman called to me. I snapped around, startled. Our eyes met. I paused and looked at her. She was a beautiful lady. I guessed she was in her midtwenties. She was wearing an elegant gray skirt with matching high heels. Her shoulder-length hair was down, and she was carrying a rather expensive-looking purse. Then, suddenly, I recognized her.

“Peaches,” I exclaimed. “Is it really you?”

Involuntarily, I felt the corners of my mouth form a smile. And in that instant, I was in Jackson again, looking through the peephole, staring at a young, beautiful woman standing before the door, seeking entrance into the seedy hotel room that served as my temporary hideout.

“It’s me,” she said.

I took her into my arms and held her for a long time. “What in the world are you doing here?” I asked, finally releasing her.

“I live here,” she said.

“In Brownsville?”

“Yes.”

“You’re lying.”

“No,” she said. “It’s true.”

“But how can that be?”

“It’s a long story,” she said.

Through the large bay window, I could see Miss Big Siss. She was still sitting in the truck, only now her head was bowed and I figured she was looking through her purse for something. I looked at her for a moment, then at Peaches. No, I couldn’t keep her waiting. That would be rude.

“Right now I’m pushed for time,” I said.

“How about the abridged version?” she asked me.

“Sure,” I said.

“In short,” she said, smiling, “I came looking for you.”

“For me!” I said, frowning.

“Yes,” she said. “For you.”

“But how did you know where to find me? I mean, I never told you where I lived.”

“Your cousin told me.”

“What cousin?”

“Glenda.”

I hesitated. “How do you know Glenda?”

“I met her at a church retreat.”

“Really.”

“Yes. The two of us shared a room. As a matter of fact, that’s how your name came up. One night, I saw a picture of you in her photo album. When I saw the picture, I asked her how she knew you, and she said that you were her cousin. Then I asked where you were, and she told me that you had been sent away to Louisiana Youth Authority and that after you were released, the family lost contact with you. So then I asked her where she thought I ought to look for you, and she said Brownsville, because sooner or later, you were bound to come back.”

“So you moved to Brownsville.”

“That’s right,” she said. “Three years ago.”

“And you waited all this time?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Why?”

“First of all, you saved my life—”

“No,” I interrupted her. “That’s not true.”

“It is true,” she said. “Because of you, I got off the streets and I went to college—I’m a teacher now.”

“A teacher!” I shouted.

My reaction amused her and she smiled again before offering an explanation. “After I was arrested, I went to college. And I earned a degree in elementary education from UL Monroe.”

“UL Monroe!”

“Yes.”

“That’s unbelievable.” I shook my head from side to side. “I just graduated from ULM a few days ago.”

“Get out of here!”

“I’m serious,” I said.

“Boy, this is a small world.”

“Tell me about it.”

I stared at her for a moment. “And you’re really a teacher?”

“I am a teacher.”

“And you teach here.”

“Yes,” she said. “I teach at Brownsville Elementary.”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it,” she said.

“Really!”

“Yes…this little town is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“What!”

“I mean it. I was able to reinvent myself here. Now I’m Miss Lewis—Peaches does not exist.”

“No Peaches,” I mumbled. “That just doesn’t seem right.”

“Aw, she wasn’t real anyway. She was just a frightened little girl who found herself on the streets of Jackson. And if she had not been fortunate enough to stumble upon a wonderful soul who took her under his wing and guided her through that terrible nightmare, I shudder to think what would have become of her.” She hesitated and looked at me again. “You saved me. And I came here to say thank you and to let you know that I owe you big-time.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” I said.

“I owe you my life.”

She paused and I remained silent. Then she looked at me with quizzical eyes. “What finally brought you back here anyway?” she asked.

“The same thing that took me away,” I said.

“And what’s that?”

“Death.”

She paused again. My answer baffled her.

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ll tell you about it sometime,” I said. “But right now I have to go. Someone’s waiting for me.”

“I understand,” she said. “Maybe you can give me a call when you have a moment.”

I looked at my watch. “I’ll do that,” I said. “But right now, I really have to go. Are you in the book?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m in the book.”

“Good.” I turned to leave.

She stopped me. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

“I won’t,” I said.

“You promise?”

“I promise,” I said. “I’ll call right after I see Mama.”

Suddenly, her expression changed. “Are you going to see her now?”

“Yes,” I said. “Why?”

“I got so caught up in seeing you again that I didn’t ask if you had heard.”

“Heard what?”

“About Curtis.”

“What about Curtis?”

“He escaped last night.”

“Escaped!”

“Yes,” she said.

“From where?”

“The parish jail,” she said, then paused again. “I guess you didn’t know he was locked up.”

“No,” I said. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything.”

“Well, the cops are looking for him. They say he’s armed and dangerous. They even closed the schools early. They said they didn’t want anyone on the streets until he’s caught.”

“My God!” I said. “What did he do?”

“He was convicted for burglary and assault.”

“What!” Suddenly, my head began to whirl. “I’ve got to go talk to Mama,” I said. “Maybe she can tell me what’s going on.”