Good Hope Road

I watched Lacy and June Jaans weave that string, him helping her move her hands this way and that, and her talkin’ to him like she was a normal little girl. Her big eyes sparkled with joy as he praised how quick she was learning cat’s cradle.

Why? I thought. Why can’t I get her to light up like that? Lacy tangled the string and gave a frustrated groan, then smiled a little at him. He grinned back, his teeth looking straight and white against the gray stubble of beard grown over his thin face. I remembered how I used to like his smile. I remembered how, when that boy grinned at me, something went warm and soft and fluttery inside me. I didn’t want to remember it, but I did. I guess, in a way, I always had.

Nobody else ever made me feel like that—not even Olney, though I loved him dearly and we made a good life together. That wild, fluttery feeling only comes with a powerful dose of first love. What made it all the worse was that June give me a first dose of heart-break, too, and he was the one who took my sister away from me.

Lord, Eudora, what are you doin’, standing here thinking about all this now? You got a hate for him that’s as big and black and solid as the cloud that carried that tornado.

I could still see her looking at me with those big, doe brown eyes and telling me how to forgive. I wondered if God would really ask something so hard from me. I wondered if, the same way He made Jenilee the one to pull me from the cellar, He was going to make old June Jaans the one to pull Lacy from the pit she was in.

Thick silver hair fell over June’s forehead as he bent forward to help Lacy with her cat’s cradle. In the blink of an eye, I saw the young boy I knew all those years back. It come on me so quick and powerful that I moved a step closer, seeing a ghost. June drew back like a startled mule, and looked at my face like he couldn’t imagine what I was thinking.

I’m sure he couldn’t. I was thinking that, considering he’d kept himself pickled for the last six years since his wife died, he was still a pretty good-lookin’ man.

Lordy, Eudora, what in the world is wrong with you? There had to be something wrong with me if I was thinking that way about June Jaans. Jenilee Lane must of put some kind of hex on me.

June turned back to Lacy. He helped her move the string again, then leaned close. “There, now, show your grandma.” He pointed at me and patted Lacy’s arm. “You done made it all the way to cat’s cradle this time. Now all you got to do is go catch that old cat and put him in there for a nice little catnap.”

Lacy made a little sound in her throat, something that might of been the beginning of a laugh, and she held up the cat’s cradle. “Granny . . . do you think . . . Mr. Whiskers will fit?” It was the first thing she had said to me since right after the tornado.

I come closer and sat down in the chair beside the cot, moving real careful, like I was trying not to startle some wild creature. I didn’t want that smile to flit away. I wanted to call Weldon and Janet over, but I was afraid that would ruin things.

“I think he might like it fine. Maybe soon we can get out to the house and see if we can get him to come on up for a nap. Weldon said Mr. Whiskers had been eatin’ the food he’s been leavin’ at the old home place, but that little cat is sure keepin’ himself hid around there. Maybe if he catches sight of you, he’ll come on up. You and that old cat are pretty good friends.”

“There you go. That’s the way,” June said. “It’s a pretty fun game, ain’t it? Makes your brain and your hands work together. That’s good for ya.” He glanced at me and winked one blue eye. “Back in your grandma’s and my day, why, we kids knew how to have fun with little things we could find around. We didn’t need no five-hundred-dollar TV video game to have fun.” He tapped a finger on Lacy’s forehead, and the corners of her mouth lifted upward. “I told my grandson exactly that the last time I saw him when they were out to visit two summers ago. He lives in Germany, because his daddy’s in the army, and that’s a long, long way off, so I don’t get to see him much.” June looked sad, and right then I felt sad for him. I’d always had a mess of grandkids around me.

Lacy nodded, frowning as she dropped a finger and messed up her string. “I don’t see my mama much. She lives in Tulsa, and that’s a long, long way off, too.”

June sniffed, then reached up and scratched his nose. “I know, child, and that’s a hard thing, ain’t it? But I think that’s why we got friends and neighbors—so it’s like we got a whole great big family around us all the time.”

“Oh,” Lacy whispered, frustrated because the string was knotted up. She set it on the bed, then stood up and wandered off, looking at the pictures on the wall.

June lay back against his bed. “Lacy don’t know that. All she knows is that’s the only mama she’s got. Every critter wants to be loved by its mama. Maybe her mama will come around.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but then that city doctor come in the door and walked over to us. I stood there looking at him, trying to recall his name. Always Right . . . no, not Always Right, Albright. Dr. Albright. I was going to have to jot that down somewhere so I could jog my memory.

“Oh, fair to middlin’, I reckon,” June answered. “A little better now that all the excitement’s died down. This is some hospital you’re runnin’ here, Doc. I feel like I’m on Wheel of Fortune.”

Dr. Albright chuckled. “Well, fortunately we don’t have too many patients left. Mostly just pictures and a few curious reporters now.” He pointed a finger at me. “To change the subject, I was thinking about what we were talking about earlier.”

My mind was as blank as a summer sky. Panic scampered through me, because I couldn’t recall talking to him earlier. I remembered the newspaper reporters and the cameras. . . .

“About Jenilee,” he said, wheeling a hand in front of himself, trying to crank up my memory like an old tractor engine. “I had asked you earlier about whether she’d be interested in the summer internship program through the Vista Ridge hospital system. The purpose of the program is to help disadvantaged kids pursue a college education, particularly careers in medicine.”

I nodded slowly, recalling standing on the steps with Weldon and Dr. Albright, talking about whether Jenilee would think about leaving Poetry if she got the chance. “Well, Doc, I don’t know. Her family ain’t got any money to help her.”

The doctor nodded. “The program is designed to help kids work their way through school on a combination of work-study credits and grants. I understand that Jenilee’s grades aren’t outstanding, but I have friends on the board of directors, and I could write a recommendation for her. Given everything that’s happened here, she deserves a chance, if she’s interested. She’s a remarkable young woman, and she has a God-given gift with people.” There was a flicker of something in his eye that made me wonder again why he was so interested in Jenilee.

June piped up before I got a chance to answer. “I think that would be a wonderful thing for Jenilee. Why, she’s been rescuin’ sick critters for as long as I can recall. She could darned near have a vet degree already, I think. She’s a smart girl, and good-hearted. I just think that would be a fine thing for her.”

“Hush, June!” I snapped. I was trying to get my thoughts clear, and all his talking was muddying up the waters. “I just don’t know what to say about that. I don’t even know if she’d think about going. Poetry ain’t got much in the way of good things to offer her, but she’s been here all her life. She’s mixed up with that Shad Bell. I got a feeling she’s thinking to settle in with him and go that route in life.”

“I ain’t sayin’ it’s a good thing. I’m just sayin’ that’s what I think she’s got in mind. She’s come out of her shell a lot these last days, but it’s a long way from here to some college.”

“Ain’t for anybody else to say,” June barked. “It’s her choice. I think you ought to talk to her about it, Doc. See what she says.” He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at me. I reckon he didn’t figure I had Jenilee’s best interests in mind, given the way I’d felt about her in the past.

“That’s true enough,” I agreed. “But, Doc, I guess I’ll just come right out and ask what’s been bothering me for a while now. I’m wondering why it is that you have such a big interest in Jenilee.”

The doc drew back, surprised by the question, and put out that I would ask. I guess he thought nobody noticed the strange way he looked at her. “I . . .” He stopped for a minute, like he was thinking about how to answer. “I think she’s a young lady with great potential. She’s obviously very intelligent, she’s calm in a crisis, and she has a natural talent for medicine. She clearly already has quite a bit of medical knowledge. I’ve worked with med students who couldn’t have handled a triage situation as well as she did.”

June piped up like he had some say in it. “I—I guess we’d just have to talk to her about it. I’ll ask her if you want. She don’t know you very well yet, Doc.”

Dr. Albright nodded. “Let me know what she says. I’ll probably be heading back to Kansas City tomorrow afternoon. I can leave my card and the name of the director of the internship program. Jenilee can call if she has questions.”

I looked from one man to the other, and wondered what in the world they thought they were talking about. It was just like a couple of men to cook up a rainbow stew and forget all the practical details.

“I’ll talk to her,” I told them. “And it may not be tomorrow. She’s got her little brother with a broke leg to take care of, and their farm, and her father still in the hospital in bad shape.” And if that sidewinder comes home, she’ll stay right there and take care of him. She’ll never leave Poetry if he comes home. You can bet on that. “She ain’t gonna be ready to even think about the kind of things you two are talkin’ about. You gotta give her some time.”

“There ain’t time.” June glared hard at me. “You heard that Shad fella in here earlier hollering for her.” He pointed a finger at me, and give me a stare that made me step back. “Eudora, you know and I know, if that girl don’t get out of here now, she never will. She’ll end up settlin’ down with someone who don’t deserve her, and spending her whole miserable life here in Poetry.”

“The internship program starts in four weeks,” Dr. Albright added. “If she didn’t start with this group, she would have to wait a year. From what you’re both saying, she can’t afford the delay.”

“Lay still, you old fool,” I grumbled at him, trying to get my mind to think. “But, June, she ain’t gonna be willing to do anything until she knows about her daddy, and she ain’t gonna leave that little brother of hers. She ain’t gonna do it. You know that.”

“There has to be a way.” June closed his eyes. “We just gotta think. We gotta think of a way to make things work out. If she stays here, it’ll be one more wrong thing on top of a bunch of other wrong things we let go on right down the road all these years.”

I met June’s gaze, and I couldn’t believe the two of us were sitting there talking like friends. If we didn’t share much else, we shared a load of guilt because we had turned our backs on them three little Lane kids down the road. We should of helped their mama years ago, when she started showin’ up in town with bruises and scrapes she couldn’t explain. We should of helped her get out, make some other kind of life. A better life.

Wanting something impossible don’t make it possible. My mama used to say that to me. My mama was a practical woman, and she didn’t believe in dreaming big.

I sighed, looking at the doctor and then at June, two strange partners for me to have. “I’ll talk to her about it tomorrow. I’ll ask after her father and her brother, and if it seems like she’s willing to listen at all, I’ll talk to her about it. If Doc Howard’s back by then, maybe he can help me. I ain’t got no idea what she’ll say.”

“I think she might surprise you.” Dr. Albright turned to leave, drumming the tips of his fingers against each other. He looked like a man who was used to getting what he wanted. “If there’s anything I can do to help, or if she has any questions, please let me know.”

“I’ll ask her,” I said, getting that strange feeling from him again, almost like he thought he had some special right to Jenilee and we were getting in the way of it. “I don’t think she’ll talk to you about it. She don’t talk much to people she don’t know.”

I let my face fall into my hand. It felt like someone was beating a rug clean in my forehead. “It don’t seem very possible, June. I almost hate to even bring it up with her. I’m afraid I’m gonna open a door, and it’s gonna get slammed right back in her face.”

“Have a little faith, Eudora,” June said. The scratchy-old-man sound was gone, and I heard the soft, smooth voice of that boy from New Orleans. Just a hint of Cajun lilt. “We’ll find a way. It’ll be a right thing we can do together. We ain’t done too many right things together in the past, have we?”

I felt the warmth of his hand covering my fingers where they rested on his bed. I didn’t move away, and his fingers tightened around mine, trembling at first like one of them poplar leaves in the wind, then turning steady, warm, solid.

I felt something strange come into my cheeks, and all of a sudden I knew I was blushing for the first time in probably thirty years. I turned the other way in a hurry, got up, and started a stiff-legged hobble toward the door.

I thought about June and Ivy, and how afraid they must of been, running off like that, young teenagers getting married in some strange town in the dark of night, expecting a baby. I thought about June working hard those last few months of high school, trying to finish up his schooling, trying to support Ivy. I remembered him so tired from working at the sawmill that he could hardly keep his eyes open in school while the rest of us were laughing and talking about dances and such.

I thought about him watching the baseball team finish up the season without him, and him realizing that he wasn’t gonna be going away to A&M college to play baseball.

I realized how sad he must of been, and how much he give up to be with Ivy, and how much he must of loved her. It must of broken his heart to put her in the ground holding his baby, the only baby he ever ended up having.

When he married again, it was to a young widow with two small babies of her own, and she couldn’t have any more after that. He loved her anyway, and he loved those children, and if I hadn’t of hated him so much, I would of seen that he was a good husband and father. His wife was a good woman, but she wasn’t my sister, Ivy.

Sleep come to me finally, and I dreamed of Ivy and that little girl who would have been June’s. She had Ivy’s long hair, dark and curly, and June’s sky blue eyes. When she smiled, she looked like June.

She and Ivy were picking wildflowers, somewhere far away, and they were happy. Ivy paused long enough to look across the field at me. She tried to say something, but, as always, I couldn’t hear the words.

“I see you still got your red string.” I touched her little hand. The red string had been wrapped around her fingers all night while she slept. “Maybe later today we can go back and see Mr. Jaans and he can show you some more tricks with the string. I recall he knows quite a few. Would you like that?”

Squealing come from bedrooms down the hall as the rest of the kids woke up and started a fight about something. “Here, you kids stop that!” I shouted. I climbed from the bed and limped down the hall with my legs creaking and crackling.

I looked around the room, and joy filled me like water running into a cup. It felt like such a normal day. Such a wonderful day. “Lands, Christi, that candy’s been in that basket for four months. If it ain’t rotten, somebody ought to eat it.”

A chuckle wound its way up from deep inside me. It was good to know that storm or no storm, children were still children. “I hear some little ones got too much grouchiness and not enough love this mornin’.” I stretched my arms open wide. “I think they need some hugs from their granny to take away all that orneriness.”

The girls squealed and ran from the bed, and Toby got to his feet and followed them, dropping a handful of jelly beans in the Easter basket on the way. I wrapped my arms around the three of them and squeezed hard. In her bed, Anna lifted her pillow and rolled her eyes; then she smiled and pointed to the doorway behind me.

I held on to them for a few moments after they started to squirm and tried to get away. “Well, let’s get dressed,” I said finally. “Today’s a new day.”

You’re awful hard on people, Eudora, I heard June’s voice say in my head, and I knew I didn’t want to be that way—just one more stubborn, grumpy old lady in a world with too many grumpy old ladies already.

I poured water from the jug into glasses, then sat down and took a big swallow as Janet set out the breakfast plates. “You think I can borrow your car for a little while? I got a couple of errands to run this morning; then maybe later we can drive over to Hindsville and get some groceries at Shorty’s, if there’s anything left in the store.”

The kids come rushing in, and we ate breakfast listening to them chatter about going fishing down at the creek. Lacy got a piece of toast and a cup of water, and for once she sat down with the rest of them.

I smiled at her. “I told Lacy later on I’d take her to the armory to see June. You kids might want to come along and see all the pictures. There’s some old ones there from when I was in the Watermelon court at the Poetry Fair. Don’t know where they come from, but them old pictures are quite a sight.” Laughter rumbled in my throat. “Lordy, that was some day! Me and some girlfriends and cousins got elected as the Watermelon Court, and Mazelle Sibley was hoppin’ mad she didn’t get picked. If ya look real close in the pictures, you can see her scowlin’ in the contestants’ row.”

“Can we go see later, Gran?” Anna asked. “I didn’t know they had pictures way back when you were young.” She grinned at me with a wicked twinkle in her eye.

As I walked out to the car, I thought about June. I wondered what he would do now. He was too busted up to go home by himself, and he didn’t have any family close by to take care of him. Far away in Germany, his son and daughter-in-law probably didn’t even know what had happened in Poetry.

Reckon he’ll make out. He always does, I told myself. Ain’t got time to worry about June’s problems now, anyway. I got Jenilee to worry about, and that’s a big enough problem all by itself.