Mama and Daddy stood in the kitchen, talking about his paycheck. I sat at the table, drawing on a tablet of paper with a dull, graphite pencil. It didn’t feel right to me, hearing them go on about money. In my memory, I didn’t think they discussed so much as the spending of a penny within my hearing.
“It won’t be as much as usual,” Daddy said. “State’s cutting back on everybody’s checks now.”
“I can’t make a grocery list until I know how much you’ll get.” Mama crossed her arms and leaned back into the counter. “I don’t feel right taking credit at Smalley’s with him tightening his belt the way he has.”
“Might be half of what I usually get.”
“About sixty then?”
Daddy nodded. “We’ve gotta make it last. I’m worried about what January will bring.”
“That’s okay,” she’d said. “We’ll make do.”
Mama put me to work, writing a list of all she said we needed. Flour. Coffee. Molasses. Yeast. I wrote with a careful hand, practicing my penmanship and hoping Miss Camp would be pleased once school started back up in January.
“I think that’s about it,” Mama said when she’d told me the last ingredient she needed, which happened to be sugar. “You want to come with me?”
I nodded, happy that Mama wanted me with her.
“Button all the way up,” she said, handing me my thick sweater. “It’s real cold out.”
“Do you want me to drive you?” Daddy asked.
“It’s not a long walk.” Mama smiled and pushed her hands into the sleeves of her sweater. “Besides, I don’t have that much to buy.”
Mama and I walked out in the chilly, almost-Christmas air. I tried to remember the last time I held her hand and why I’d stopped. I wondered if she missed it like I did sometimes.
The little grocery store was quiet. Only Mr. Smalley sat behind the counter. He stood as soon as we walked in.
“Ladies,” he said, a big smile across his face. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Smalley,” I said.
“Come to get a few things?” He stepped out from behind the counter, leaning a hip into a shelf that used to hold jars full of candies. The jars were all empty.
I tried my very hardest not to be disappointed.
Mama handed him her list and the two of them talked in between finding all her groceries. Soon the stack of items grew on the counter.
“Looks like we might have to make a couple trips,” Mama said, smiling.
“I can help you carry.” Mr. Smalley pushed up his glasses.
“Don’t worry. Johnny can help us, can’t he?”
“Well, Bea took the kids.” Mr. Smalley turned toward a shelf, reaching for something on a high-up ledge. “They went to New York. She’s got family there.”
“For Christmas?” Mama picked up a small can of milk and inspected the label. “You should have gone with them.”
“Thing is, they ain’t coming back. She didn’t want to fight the dust no more.” He faced us. “She told me not to come there.”
“Oh.” Mama nodded slowly, lowering the can of milk to the counter. “I’m so sorry.”
“She said once she’s got enough money, she wants a divorce.”
“Pearl, darlin’,” Mama said, not turning toward me. “Go on out and sit on the bench a spell. I’ll get you when I’m ready to leave.”
I obeyed, even though I wanted to hear more from Mr. Smalley. I’d never met somebody who was divorced before, but I’d heard Pastor rail about it many times. I wondered what it felt like to have your family split in half like that. It seemed it would hurt like crazy.
Outside on the bench, I pulled the collar of my sweater over my mouth and nose to keep from getting cold. Leaning close to the door, I tried my best to hear Mama and Mr. Smalley talking through. All I could make out, though, were mumbling voices.
As much as I hated being in class with Johnny, I felt bad that he wasn’t going to be around his father anymore. Mr. Smalley was a good man, and Johnny would grow up not knowing it.
I stared across the street at the courthouse. The big doors were closed, but a few of the windows on the second floor were cracked open. I figured Millard was in his bedroom, snoozing the way he liked to on a cool afternoon. I only knew that because Daddy would tease him about it every once in a while. Turning my ear in that direction, I tried to catch the sound of him snoring but couldn’t hear much of anything at all.
Then I heard a woman yell. “Stop it! Leave me be!”
There wasn’t a single person on the street. Turning this way and that, I tried to see who had yelled. Nobody was in sight.
The woman cried out again, and someone yelled a cuss at her. I realized the sounds were coming from the alley behind Mr. Smalley’s store.
Peeking through the window, I made sure Mama wasn’t stepping out just then. She stood, facing Mr. Smalley with her hand to her chest. I figured she’d be there awhile.
I walked around the side of the store, in the direction of the voices I heard hissing at one another. Stepping toe-to-heel like I read the Indians did back a long time ago, I snuck, trying not to make any sound at all. Daddy’s Indian book had said walking like that helped them sneak up on their prey. That must have only worked for them walking in bare feet because, hard as I tried, the grit under the soles of my shoes kept grinding.
I pushed the shoes off and carried them, my toes gliding across the cool dirt.
Careful that I wouldn’t be seen, I spied around the corner with just one eye and looked into the alley.
Eddie and Winnie stood in the alley, face-to-face. Neither of them seemed happy. Her face was set hard like when she faced Pastor. His was the same as when I’d seen him at the rabbit drive. I didn’t like that look on him one bit.
He pushed her against the brick wall and kept his hand on her chest, holding her still.
“Be quiet,” he grumbled in her face. “You best not say a word to nobody.”
“No, I ain’t gonna be quiet,” she said back. She pushed at his hand and wiggled to get free. “I want you to leave her alone.”
“She’s got to know.” Eddie turned his head the opposite way from me and spit his plug of tobacco out. “Ain’t that why I come all the way here? So you’d get her?”
“You just come here to get revenge. That’s all.” She slapped at his hand again. “You wouldn’t never come to help me. I’m not stupid.”
He lowered his hand, but didn’t step away from her. “I come here to help you.”
Winnie said a word that Mama would have called barnyard talk. “You didn’t come for nobody but yourself. And I’m gonna tell them about you.”
“You ain’t gonna do nothing, Winnie. You hear?” Eddie yelled. “You’re gonna keep your mouth shut, or I’ll shut it for you.”
“I ain’t scared of you.” She snarled at him. “I’m gonna tell them who you are. Just see if I don’t.”
Eddie put his hands on her, struggling to pin her back to the wall. He punched her right in the mouth, making her head hit the brick behind her. She sputtered and spit blood. He held her arms down so she couldn’t touch her lips, check her teeth, wipe the blood. He growled like a wolf, baring his teeth at her.
Winnie had stopped fighting and let him hold her against the wall. She did sob and turn her head to one side. The blood streamed from her mouth.
“I never did know what my brother seen in you. You dirty little whore.” He got so close to her face that his nose nearly touched her cheek. “All he did was write about how he got some no-count girl in trouble.”
“We were gonna get married,” Winnie said, thick and mumbling through the blood and spit and already-swelling lips.
“He wasn’t never gonna do that.” Eddie laughed at her, pushing her harder against the wall. “He never would’ve.”
“He said he loved me,” she whimpered.
“You’re stupid.” Eddie’s voice gave me the chills and made my stomach turn. “My brother never loved nobody.”
“He did love me,” Winnie cried. It was like she was begging for it to be true.
“Nope. He never did. Even told me so much in one of his letters.” Eddie turned and spit again. “He never loved nobody. Not even our mother. He came out wanting to hurt anybody he could. And he done it, too. He hurt everybody.”
Eddie shoved her again, moving his arm up across her throat so hard she yelped and gasped for breath.
“I’m just like him. You hear?” Eddie said. “And I’m gonna do just like he done.”
“You ain’t like him,” Winnie said, choking. “It ain’t too late for you. Just leave. Go back to Tennessee. Nobody’s got hurt yet.”
“You think so, huh?” He eased up on her.
“Remember that girl? The one you found? You helped her.” She got one of her hands loose and used her sleeve to wipe under her bottom lip. The fabric soaked up the red. “You didn’t have to help her. You knew who she is, but you saved her anyhow.”
“That ain’t the whole story.” He turned his head toward me, but kept his eyes on Winnie. “Y’all don’t know nothing but what I want y’all to.”
“What happened?”
“I ain’t telling you.” He wrinkled his nose and shook when he breathed in and out. “I can’t trust you, can I?”
“You can. I promise.”
“But you was gonna tell everybody about me, weren’t you?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I won’t do that. You were right. I’m on your side, Eddie.”
“Good. ’Cause if you tell anybody a single thing about me, I will kill you.” He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled it hard, forcing her to look in his face. “I will.”
He punched her once more, and she fell to the ground.
I rushed back to the bench and waited for Mama to get done in the store. I shoved my feet into my shoes and tried to imagine I’d not seen anything. When I closed my eyes, though, all I could see was Winnie’s bloody face and her falling to the ground.
When Mama opened the door to the shop and called me in, I held my hands together behind my back so she wouldn’t see them shaking.
“You okay, Pearl?” Mr. Smalley asked. “You look like you seen a ghost.”
“Yes, sir. I’m all right,” I answered, pushing a smile on my face and holding it there.
“What’s wrong, darlin’?” Mama felt of my forehead. “You aren’t getting sick, are you?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Mama.” I made the smile bigger. “I’m just excited for Christmas.”
I lied because Eddie’s threat to Winnie was for me, too. That I knew clear as day.