When Cousin Polly, Mama, and Auntie Rita headed off to the kitchen to get dinner ready, Daddy began bellyaching to Teddy about how one of his two mechanics had quit without any warning.
“No warnin’ at all?” Teddy asked.
“None whatsoever. Found him a lady friend up in Raleigh and he was gone like the wind. Most beautiful woman he ever laid eyes on is how he tells it.”
Teddy grinned. “Can’t blame him for that, now, can we?”
Daddy laughed and shook his head.
The smells coming from the kitchen were making my mouth water. Finally the kitchen door swung open, and in no time flat, the table was loaded with steaming food. Roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, corn that had been shaved from the cob, biscuits dripping with butter and honey, and a pitcher full of lemonade crowded the table. Teddy nearly knocked over the pitcher as he reached across for the potatoes.
“As y’all can see, we clearly need a larger table,” Mama said, and everyone agreed but I accidentally smiled, causing Tink to nudge my leg under the table and shoot me a look that said Cut it out, which in turn led Auntie Rita to take notice.
“What have you two cooked up?” she asked, searching our faces for clues.
“Nuthin’s cookin’, Grand-ma-ma,” Tink replied.
“And stop callin’ me Grand-ma-ma. Call me Nana like you always have.”
Cousin Polly joined in the conversation. “Until Miss Helen-with-an-E Reynolds from New York City arrived next door.”
“Her name’s Helene, not Helen-with-an-E, and not only is she intelligent and enlightened, but she’s also a gas,” Tink told us. “A total gas.”
Cousin Polly clicked her tongue. “Fulla gas is what I call it.”
Chuckles and laughter were popping up when Tink spouted off, “As usual, Mama, you are off the cob.”
Cousin Polly glared at her. “That’s some kinda cruel insult, ain’t it? I’m ’bouta jerk a knot in your tail.”
I scooped up a forkful of corn and interpreted, “It just means corny.”
Teddy patted his wife’s hand. “See, Polly . . . Don’t have a hissy. And Tink?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Even if you don’t . . . can you at least pretend you have some breedin’?”
Changing the subject was something Auntie Rita was known for, and that’s exactly what she did. She cleared her throat twice and asked me, “Gabriel, were you aware that to have been saved the way you were today means you likely have a special destiny?”
“No ma’am, I wasn’t.”
“And for a total stranger to risk his life to save yours . . . My oh my, ain’t that somethin’ that surely leaves a sweet taste inside you?”
I nodded.
“I’ve heard tell that when someone saves your life, a special bond is created ’tween you and it’s likely you’ll be indebted to him.”
“So, I owe him?” I asked.
“Indeed,” she replied.
“What’d you say his name was?” Daddy asked.
“Meriwether,” I responded.
At the mention of the name, Teddy’s face lit up. “Fine name, Meriwether. Meriwether Lewis was the soldier and explorer who headed the Lewis and Clark Expedition back in the 1800s and reached the Pacific Ocean in—?” Teddy searched his memory for the answer and found it: “1805.” Teddy claims his mind is full of mostly useless facts, but Auntie Rita proudly boasts that her son’s so smart, he ought to be a contestant on the radio show Twenty Questions.
“I learned about Lewis and Clark in history class, but first names didn’t get talked about, at least I don’t think they did,” I told him.
“Don’t care much about what his name is . . . Mighty glad he happened to be there is all,” Mama said, her eyes brimming with tears again.
Auntie Rita patted her hand. “I am doubtful that he just happened to be there, Agatha. This was certainly divine intervention.”
Cousin Polly rolled her eyes.
But Auntie Rita, who usually doesn’t miss a thing, caught a glimpse of Polly’s shenanigans and slyly remarked, “Well, bless your heart, Polly Waldrop, ain’t you precious.” It didn’t sound like an insult but it was. “I’m fixin’ to delve into somethin’ of spiritual importance. Is that all right with you, dear?”
Polly’s face looked the way Mama’s does when she pricks herself accidentally with a sewing needle. “I reckon.”
“Now then, look at me, Gabriel, and try not to blink,” Rita ordered.
“Yes ma’am.”
As usual, she stared deeply into my eyes, and I wondered if the old soul was still in there and, if it was, could she see him, and if she could see him, exactly how old he was. But this time she peered for so long that I got fidgety, because it seemed like she was tinkering around inside my thoughts.
Finally, she looked away through the open window and up toward the sky. “Yes, my boy with the old soul . . . you most surely have a special destiny.”
“Special destiny?” I asked.
“Perhaps you’ll have a lifetime fulla exceptional good works or achieve something of remarkable significance during your earthly time. A special destiny should never be interfered with by no one, no way, no how.”
Suddenly, I felt as if I’d stepped into a moonlit swamp. I shivered.
Tink noticed. “Stoppit, Nana . . . You’re givin’ him the willies.”
But Auntie Rita continued, “And I hope y’all can appreciate that it certainly wasn’t meant to be . . . for the very automobile sold by the daddy . . . to take the life of his child.”
To me, that sounded like she was blaming Daddy, so I sprang to my feet. “He’s not the one to blame! It was my fault for not being careful . . . all mine! Well, maybe some of it belongs to Mr. Babcock for buyin’ a car for his wife, who is the rottenest driver in all of Birdsong . . . probably the worst driver in all of Carolina, North and South. And I bet Daddy didn’t even know about that . . . so you can’t blame him, Auntie Rita, you can’t blame Daddy for nuthin’!”
Auntie Rita calmly replied, “Not puttin’ blame on your daddy, Gabriel. Just sayin’ you clearly weren’t meant to be harmed by a car your daddy sold.”
Daddy took a deep breath. “All right now, Rita.” Which I took to mean that it was time for her to be quiet.
Auntie Rita didn’t take the hint and started up again. “And one more thing—”
But Teddy cut her off and blurted, “In other words, Mama, put a button on your lip!” So she did.
Cousin Polly giggled.
Soon as supper was over, the pineapple upside-down cake was placed on the table and the twelve candles were hastily lit.
“I didn’t burn it this time, y’all,” Mama said proudly.
As Tink had schooled me, I joined my hands together and whispered a prayer no one could hear but me: “Please, God, lemme please, please, please keep my bicycle.” Then I finished with a loud “Amen,” and when I looked into my parents’ eyes, I thought I saw pity.
With one long breath, I blew out every candle and hoped.