Clover Read online

  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.

  12

  I s
till 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.”

  I dropped my head. I couldn’t stand to look at either one of them. I was so glad Daniel was with his daddy, I didn’t know what to do. I would have been so ashamed if he’d been there.

  Finally I said, “I apologize, Sara Kate. I’m sorry for the way I acted.” But then under my breath I said, ever so softly, “But you shouldn’t have tried to make me eat the lunch.” And dag, they both heard it.

  Everleen’s voice had softened, “Try to look over her little fast cutting remarks, Sara Kate. She really didn’t mean any harm with that last remark. The poor little thing has just not been herself here of late.

  “You see, Sara Kate, sometimes the child has to hear more around this peach shed than I’d like. I wish I didn’t have to keep the kids here. Every bad word that’s used sticks to their brain like a suction cup. But Lord knows, I don’t know what I would do without them.”

  Sara Kate smiled at Everleen. “Oh, I’m beginning to learn how to handle things like that. I treat those kind of sayings, coming from a small child, like small fish. You simply toss them back into the water.”

  I can clearly see that Sara Kate is no longer angry with me. And it gives me a good feeling. I think just having Everleen not dump on her, plus take her side, did her all the good in the world.

  Maybe Sara Kate became so happy after her talk with Everleen because she knew she was planning to clamp down tight on me. Now I imagine she believes Everleen will side with her if I get the least bit out of line.

  For a few days, I have halfway been thinking that, just maybe, I will tell Sara Kate about my leg. “Sara Kate,” I’ve made up my mind to say, “I was just thinking that, maybe, well, maybe you should take me to see that old doctor about my leg.”

  As usual, like with everything else, I didn’t do it. I sure didn’t plan for things to turn out the way they did yesterday.

  Like always, I was home for lunch. It was not too bad for a change. Hamburgers on crusty seed-topped buns with pink juice running out the meat. I’m getting so I like them that way, now. Sara Kate gave me a small dish of pork-n-beans, and of course a salad. She always makes salads. She didn’t eat any of the beans. She seldom does.

  When we finished, she put a small plate of cookies on the table. Can you believe that just for the two of us, no company or nothing, she put a lacy paper doily under the cookies.

  Well, anyway, you know that funny feeling your mouth gets when you are eating, and your mind keeps telling you, you still have half of a cookie or something left to eat. Yet you can’t find it anyplace.

  It’s hard to explain that feeling, but the thing itself is very, very real. That was in my mind, so I was looking everywhere, all around my plate, under my napkin.

  “What are you looking for, Clover?” Sara Kate asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. I was looking for something and she knew it. I wouldn’t say what it was, because it was too hard to put into words why I was looking so hard for half of a butter creme cookie.

  I must have twisted my leg or something when I got ready to leave, because the thing started hurting me so bad, I couldn’t help myself. I started crying like a newborn baby.

  Sara Kate rushed behind me. Her eyes wide. “It’s your leg, isn’t it, Clover?”

  Like I said, I wasn’t ready for her to find out. Daniel and I were supposed to go fishing. Daniel was right when he
said you can’t hide anything from her.

  “How in the world do you think my leg can keep from hurting, Sara Kate? I have to run and carry peach baskets every morning.” I was still crying. “So what if it’s hurting, it is my leg, you know.” I had promised myself to stop being a smart aleck, but that just slipped out.

  Sara Kate didn’t get angry. “Let’s get dressed, Clover,” she said, “we are going to the doctor.”

  You guessed it. I wound up in the doctor’s office.

  The doctor was quick to see I was not about to say anything about my leg. So he started tapping, pressing, and feeling my leg. He finally said I must have injured the leg somehow. He sure didn’t get it out of me first, though. I might even have kept him from finding out that I’d hurt it. The trouble was I couldn’t help but say “ouch” when he pressed down too hard in one place.

  I thought of the time, not too long ago, when Mr. Elijah Watson hurt his leg. They said gangrene set in. And you know what, they put him in the hospital and cut the dang leg clean off. See, Sara Kate doesn’t even know stuff like that.

  I decided on my own to tell the doctor I fell over a log and hurt my leg. He wanted to take X-rays of my leg. I’ve never had one before. They may hurt for all I know. Well, telling him what happened sure didn’t help. I had to have the thing X-rayed anyway.

  The doctor pointed out shadowy areas on the X-ray to Sara Kate. “There is no damage to the bones,” he said. “Your daughter likely tore a ligament in the beginning and doubtless kept hurting the same leg over and over.” He called me her daughter. Sara Kate had called me her daughter. She kept saying it. The only time she said Clover was when she spoke to me. Now that was really something.

  I guess my leg wasn’t really hurt all that bad after all. The doctor didn’t put bandage one on my leg. I thought if you hurt your leg or something, they ought to bandage it up. They sure did it when Skip caught his arm in the lawn mower. Sure would have saved me from carrying peach baskets if he’d put it in a cast or up in bandages.