CHAPTER 9
Grandma went to bed not long after supper. I eased out the back door and headed to the stumps. A white winter moon was bright as a bulb and had a halo around it, which meant snow if you believed the old wives’ tale. Crusty leaves and frozen twigs snapped underfoot. I picked a seat, pulled my coat closer, and tried to roll a cigarette with cold fingers. It being Christmas, Fancy might not show, but Saturday was our time, so I waited. Swaying winter-bare limbs raked and cracked against each other like hands clapping.
I heard traipsing through the brush. “Merry Christmas, Junebug.” Fancy sidled up on the same stump and gave me a little hug. “Cold as a gravestone, ain’t it?” She wore brogan shoes, blue jeans, a heavy coat, and a knit hat to cover her head. “Did you have a good Christmas?”
“Real good. You?” A cold breeze rustled the dry leaves and blew a chill down my collar. I sucked on the homemade cigarette, getting a few puffs before it burned my fingers.
“We did. All my aunts and uncles and cousins came to the house and we had a big old time. The men got to sipping and telling funny stories.” Fancy leaned forward with hands in her side pockets, crossed her legs, and pulled the front of her coat tighter. “We had chicken dumplings and collards and sweet potatoes and corn bread for dinner. Good eating, and plenty of it.”
She smelled of wood smoke. “Old Santa find you?”
“Momma made me a new dress for going to school, and Daddy found an old bicycle in Miss May’s barn he fixed up so I can ride instead of walk everywhere.”
“Be good when the weather gets warm.”
She stuck her arm through the crook of my elbow, and folded her hand back into her pocket, snuggling. The softness of her was warm. “What did you get?”
I pulled out the buck knife.
“Dang, Junebug.” She snapped the powerful blade open and shut. “Wanna play mumblety-peg?” The bright moon made her white teeth shine in the dark.
“Hell, no, you’d probably stab me in the foot. But we can do this.” I pulled her to follow me to a poplar tree close by, and started carving.
Fancy looked over my shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Cutting our initials so when folks a long time from now come by, they’ll know we were here.” After some grunting and hard scraping, I finally got a big F and J skinned out.
She admired the work. “Ought to put an L too, in honor of Lightning.”
“Have you heard anything from him?” Cutting the L proved easier than the other two.
“Not a dang word; you’d a thought he could have at least sent a letter by now.” She ran her hands over the letters. “Nice work, Junebug.” The blustery wind picked up, sharpened to a freezing edge. Fancy exaggerated a shiver. We went back to sit.
“Got something for you.” I pulled the box from my coat pocket.
Fancy rolled the package in her hand. “What’s in here, Junebug?”
“Open it and see.”
“Now I feel bad that I ain’t got nothing to give you.”
“Didn’t expect anything. Had a little extra and just wanted to.”
Fancy took her time removing the wrapping, like Grandma saving the paper from the dress box. Her hands fumbled trying to tear the tape so I snipped it with my knife. The silver of the necklace flashed in the moonlight. I struck a match. “See, it’s got your name spelled out right there.”
Fancy put one hand across her eyes. Tears started to spill down. She turned and put her arms around my neck. “Hey, now, I won’t trying to make you cry.”
“Will you help me?” She handed me the chain and turned her back. “I don’t know how to thank you, Junebug. I’m going to wear this to church tomorrow.”
“Don’t let your daddy see it and get the wrong idea. I had enough trouble with him over that candy.”
“Then I’ll keep it hid and only wear it when I’m coming to see you.” She clutched it against her chest.
I would have bought her ten necklaces to get that smile.
Fancy turned her face close to mine. “Junebug?”
“What?”
“Can I kiss you?”
I’d sometimes imagined what it would be like to kiss Fancy, but thinking it and doing it were a long ways apart, which made what came out of my mouth seem crazy. “If you want to.”
We faced each other, our noses almost touching. “You ever kissed a girl before?”
My knee started to bounce. “No.” Her breath smelled like sweet potatoes. “But I’m willing to start.”
She laid her hand on my leg to quiet it. “We could try it if you want to, and see what happens.”
I got a vision of Roy walking up while we had our lips stuck together. Maybe it would be worth the pain of an ass beating. “Okay.”
Fancy edged closer. “All right, you ready?” She seemed way too calm.
My brain was screaming, Stop! but my mouth wouldn’t listen. “If you are.” An owl hooted. I considered running like hell.
Fancy folded her arms around my neck, and then pulled mine up to do the same on her. “Now close your eyes.”
The soft touch of her mouth startled me.
She pulled back. “You all right?”
“Sorry, couldn’t see it coming.”
Fancy unzipped our coats and we stuck our arms inside each other’s jackets. “This time you’ll know what to expect.”
Our lips lay stiff as a day-old biscuit at first, but then we began to move them around. I pulled my head back. “Are you sticking your tongue out?”
“Lightning told me that’s the way you’re supposed to kiss. Come on, let’s try it.” The feeling of our tongues mixing together was weird at first, but got warm in a hurry. We explored, hands squeezing and moving inside each other’s jackets, legs stretching and sliding until we almost fell off the stump. My God, could Christmas get any better?
Finally, we pulled apart and zipped up our jackets.
“Well?” Fancy asked.
I sucked in the cold air, wore slam-out from holding my breath. “Well, what?”
“Did you like it?”
“Did you?” If she said no, I would go straight to the woodshed and kill myself with an ax.
“I think we could get real good at it with a little practice.”
I was thinking home run and she acted like it was only a single. But I was all for a little more practice.
“It’s getting late. You going to walk with me?” Fancy took my hand and we started slowly toward her house. “I might come visit you tomorrow on my bicycle, if it would be all right with your grandma.”
Despite the cold, beads of sweat rolled down my neck. “Can’t think why it wouldn’t be.” I was pretty sure what we did was sinful; I’d heard the preacher say mixing races was a road straight to hell. And I knew without a doubt it was dangerous; there wouldn’t be forgiveness if anybody, black or white, found out.
When we got to the edge of the woods, Fancy pecked me on the lips. I watched until she made it across.
Walking back through the woods, I tried to pee. The last drops drained and I had a familiar urge. In a minute, jisim shot out, and my knees wanted to buckle. I used to practice behind the barn a lot, but fear made me quit. Lightning told me he’d heard a man could go blind doing it.
In the quiet of my bedroom I worried I’d wake up not able to see shit, having to walk around with a cane and dark glasses the rest of my life. I repeated the Lord’s Prayer until I fell asleep.
Daylight came, and I thanked God I could see the ceiling. I put on the new jeans, flannel shirt, and brogans, anxious to get to church and do some praying.