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Ruby packed the picnic basket with paper plates, plastic eating utensils, and the double batch of brownies she’d stirred up that morning. While she felt optimistic about the day, she had growing concerns on another matter. Her memory.
“I just know I told you about Abe Folsom passing.” She looked at Mack, who was studying the picture of his grandfather and his mules that he had pulled from her photo album. “You sure I didn’t tell you about Abe?”
She waited expectantly for her son’s response, feeling positive that she had told him. But then, she reminded herself, she’d also thought she’d told Nonny that Mack was in town. What was happening? Her eyes had grown a little weaker but her hearing was still good. Was her mind going ahead of her ears? That wasn’t the order it was supposed to happen.
“You put nuts in those brownies?” Sister asked. She was pushing deviled egg filling into the whites of boiled eggs with a teaspoon.
Ruby stared at her. “Nuts?”
“I recall now you did say something about Abe.” Mack slipped the picture into his shirt pocket. “Think it was in one of your letters.”
Ruby let out a sigh of relief on the one matter, then addressed the other. “I’m sorry, Sister, didn’t have any nuts. Pound of shelled walnuts is right at five dollars now.”
“That’s not what surprised me,” Mack said.
Ruby looked toward her son. “No?”
Before Mack could answer, Sister spoke up again. “Wasn’t wanting you to put nuts in them. George Folsom don’t have a tooth in his head and won’t wear his teeth. Lot of people wear dentures. Figured you’d know that.”
Ruby felt like one of the bobble-headed dolls she’d seen on the dashboards of cars. She only had enough attention for one person at a time and debated which one to give it to. Mack won out.
“Oh. You’re talking about Nonny moving back home.” She dried her hands on her apron and studied her son’s face. “What’s so surprising about that?”
“How’d that come to pass?”
She rubbed at her forehead. “I could’ve sworn I wrote you about her picking up the contract on Abe’s route . . . or maybe it was when we talked on the phone. Anyway, he had another year to run on it when he died, so she finished out that year and then renewed the contract.”
“Just left off teaching school,” Mack said, more a comment than a question.
“That’s right, going on three years now.” As Ruby filled his cup again, she noticed the skepticism on his face. “What’s so surprising about that? Sometimes people come back home.”
“To deliver mail?” Mack snorted. “Others, maybe.” He pulled the photograph from his pocket, stared at it some more, then said, “How’s she look?”
“Who . . .?” Ruby glanced at the picture in Mack’s hand, studying the two mules. “Oh—you’re talking about Nonny again. She looks good, real good. Held her figure right well. Course, that job helps keep her trim but . . . Well, the girl’s carrying a heavy burden.”
“Burden?” Mack looked up at her. “Abe leave a mortgage? How can that be? He was a member of the Nation, probably got that place free and clear with his Choctaw allotment.”
Ruby rubbed her head some more. “Well now, George gets an Indian allotment so Abe probably did, too.” Why am I having so much trouble keeping things straight these days? she wondered.
“He makes hooch out in those backwoods,” Sister said.
Mack looked at her. “You telling me George still makes his special recipe?”
“Now Sister,” Ruby said, “you don’t know that for a fact—”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Sister said. She looked at Mack and laughed.
When Mack responded in kind, Ruby shook her head. Sometimes she felt as though she were wading in quicksand.
She handed a package of paper napkins to Sister. “Here, fold these. If you’re done with those eggs, might as well make yourself useful.” She turned to Mack again. “That’s not the kind of burden I was talking about. Something—or maybe somebody—hurt that girl after she went away to school. What do you suppose it could be, Mack? I thought on it and thought on it and I can’t come up with what it might be.”
“None of my business, Mama.” Mack scraped his chair away from the table. “Or yours either, for that matter.”
“Why Mack Barlow. You always thought the sun rose and set with Nonny.”
“I’ll get the car ready to go,” he said, pushing open the screened door. “Talking to George was a good idea. Meet you outside.”
Ruby walked to the kitchen window and watched her son as he pulled her sedan around to the back door.
“Something’s bothering Mack,” Sister said, not looking up from her napkin folding.
“So you noticed it, too,” Ruby murmured, still watching Mack. “I hardly slept last night, wondering where he went yesterday morning . . .”
*****
A grove of redbuds rolled across the hills behind the Scipio Baptist Church, cutting straight lines around patches of newly broken ground, curved lines along creek bottoms. Two meadowlarks called out to each other and then to meadowlarks in other places, who took up the song. Meadowlarks were Ruby’s favorite bird for, unlike other birds, they stayed year round. Ruby listened to their music now, feeling thankful that some creatures did not migrate to far places.
Mack set the picnic basket on one of the long tables covered in oilcloth, then left to scout out George Folsom, which did not take long. Ruby unloaded the basket, watching her son from a distance. From the way George acted, she could tell that he expected to see Mack there, and she figured Nonny had told him of Mack’s mission to find Bill and Jack. She also knew that if anyone would remember where Pa buried his mules, George would. She watched anxiously for his reaction, saw him look at the photo Mack pulled from his pocket, and sighed in relief when his head began to shake.
“Maybe my loophole’s gonna hold,” she murmured.
Ruby put her mind on getting Sister settled. Her mouth was working overtime these days and Ruby felt a need to corral her ramblings. She was glad to find that a table had been set up inside the church for those who found it too cool to sit outdoors.
“Here you go, the perfect spot.” She led Sister inside where three of their Anderson cousins, all sisters, were seated. “Out of the cool wind and next to family.”
Hurrying back outside, Ruby caught up with Nonny, who was setting out a large macaroni-and-cheese casserole. Nonny had traded her usual blue jeans and chambray shirt for a long dark skirt, a turtleneck, and flat-soled suede boots. Her glistening dark hair and skin and eyes as yellow as precious metal put Ruby in mind of a raven. The color of her sweater was a perfect match for her eyes and Ruby hoped the choice was intentional, meant to help rekindle the flame with Mack.
Her heart fluttered at the thought. Never did she imagine that her son would spend his life alone. A person needed a mate, someone to see them through hard times, and children to see to their care in old age. That was the natural order of things. She had been robbed of the mate, had born only one child—an unmarried child—but perhaps she could fix things. Maybe it wasn’t too late for grandchildren. Abraham’s wife Sarah had been old, she thought. Real old when she had Isaac.
Ruby set her tray of deviled eggs next to Nonny’s casserole. “My, that casserole looks good, and it’ll be easy to eat.”
“That’s what I figured.” Nonny placed a serving spoon in the casserole. “No need for knives. Your eggs look delicious, too.” She picked up a deviled egg and bit into it. “Very good,” she said, licking her fingers.
“And I made brownies—no nuts. Some folks can’t chew nuts, you know.” Ruby paused. “You seen Mack yet? He’s over there showing people a picture Pa and his mules, hoping someone will recognize the place. He hasn’t changed much, has he? Still looks the same as when you two were dating.”
Nonny took her time answering. “Looks like a swinging door took him by surprise. His nose used to be straighter, as I recall. Helluva scar, too. How’d that happen?
“He won’t talk about it. He’s as bad as Pa when it comes to accounting for things.”
“At least he hasn’t developed a beer belly like a lot of others, if you get my drift.” Nonny indicated a man wedging his body onto a bench at a table.
“Billy Joe has put on weight, hasn’t he? And his daddy and grandpa are thin as sticks. Sister thinks it’s because they’re alcoholics. Don’t know why she dislikes them so.” She turned to look at Nonny. “But Mack works his weight off, just like you. Neither of you is afraid of a little hard work. Why, you’re a perfect match.” She smiled encouragingly.
“Doesn’t look like anyone can remember anything.” Nonny stared intently at the men’s table.
Ruby followed Nonny’s eyes once more. The picture of her father and his mules was working itself around the table, causing a lot of head scratching.
“That’s my ace in the hole,” she breathed. “Maybe no one will remember” The more people that looked at the picture, the stronger Ruby’s curiosity grew. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s fix a plate and go listen in.”
“Sit with the men?” Nonny gestured toward the table where the women had congregated. “Betty Winslow’s saving a place for you over there. I talked with her earlier, she said she’d hold you a spot.”
“Not today. I’m a little nervous that someone’s gonna remember that place in the picture, though to me it looks like a hundred-and-one other places.”
“Can’t,” Nonny said. “I need to sit inside so I can keep an eye on the older people. But you go ahead, sit with Mack if you want.”
Ruby grabbed Nonny’s arm to prevent her from walking away. “There’s others can see to that today. I refuse to be the only woman sitting at that table with a bunch of men talking mules!”
“But I wasn’t planning on staying that long, I have other things to do—”
“Something’s going on with Mack, Nonny. Sister even noticed it. Please.”
Nonny hesitated, frowning. “I think you’re worrying for nothing. It’s a long shot he’ll find those mules. Mack’s probably thinking it would content Pa if he just made an attempt to find them.”
“I’m not talking about this Bill-and-Jack thing—he’s keeping something from me. I hardly slept a wink last night worrying about it.” Ruby felt her neck and face grow warm. “I’m getting a bad feeling, real bad.”
“Ease up, Ruby.” Nonny took Ruby’s arm. “You had your blood pressure taken lately?”
“My blood pressure’s fine, checked it at the Walmart just yesterday. Why won’t you believe me when I say something’s not right?”
“All right,” Nonny said, sighing. “We’ll sit with them, but you’re doing the talking.”
Ruby smiled her thanks. She and Nonny fixed a plate of food and walked toward the table. Like a row of dominoes, the men fell over themselves to make room.
“What’s that you were saying, Billy Joe?” Ruby said. They had interrupted an argument triggered by the photo Mack had brought. “I missed part of it.”
“We were talking about where these mules might’ve been buried. I was telling Mack that you can’t go and bury a dead animal anywhere. Now, if you own the property, that’s one thing, but to my knowledge, old man Anderson never owned a lick of anything in his life. Idn’t that right, Mack?”
Ruby saw the redness creeping up her son’s neck and knew it was time for her to step in. “That’s right, Billy Joe. Pa sharecropped all his life.”
“Just like my daddy did,” Luther Winslow snapped. “Worked hisself into an early grave.”
“It’s a tough way to serve the Lord,” George Folsom added. “For a fact.
As the table grew quiet, Billy Joe put his attention on food and the others followed suit. Ruby picked at her plate, her mind on what Billy Joe had said. She found his words troublesome, filled with implications she had not considered. In time, her worries grew too big to hold.
“Are you saying Pa’s a criminal, Billy Joe? If he did bury those animals without permission, is he liable to get arrested?”
“That wasn’t the point.”
“So there’s a point to all of this?” Nonny said.
“Well yes, there is—”
“Everyone here knows your folks own most of the land here about,” Mack snapped. “If that’s the point you’re making.”
“No, that’s not the point neither.” Billy Joe’s face flushed as he looked around the table. “Look, all I was pointing out is that Mack’s grandpa would’ve had to get permission from the owner of the place he put those animals, maybe the county. You can’t bury animals where they might contaminate a water supply.”
Mack looked at Nonny. “He’s making sense . . . if there is such a law.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” she said. “I’m sure there’s a law against burying a person just anywhere. Could be the same for animals.”
“So there might be some kind of record,” Mack said, turning thoughtful.
Nonny nodded slowly.
Suddenly, Ruby realized that her son and Nonny were talking to each other, just as in days of old. Her heart filled with gladness at the thought, and she began to wonder if there might not be ray of sunshine behind this cloud her father had put over her. Just as quickly, the thought entered her mind that Nonny had gone over to the other side—actually helping Mack find Pa’s mules. As if acknowledging her fear, Nonny became even more encouraging.
“It also occurred to me,” Nonny said, holding her fork midair, “that the Turners own most of the land around here. So wouldn’t old man Turner be the logical one to talk to?”
“You suggesting I go talk to old man Turner?”
Using the fork like a pointer, Nonny said, “Shortest distance between point A and point B, isn’t it?”
Ruby’s heart began pounding like a drum. This wasn’t going the way she intended. “Now hold on, Mack, you know how you feel about old Mr. Turner— No offense, Billy Joe, your grandpa has been real decent to me, but Mack holds a different sentiment.”
“No offense taken, Mrs. Barlow. It’s no big secret how our families feel toward one another, leastways the old timers.” Billy Joe turned to Mack. “You might wanna listen to your mama, Mack. Not a good idea to be bothering my grandpa.”
“Looks like I got no other choice. Might as well run by this afternoon. He still live at the same place?”
Every eye at the table turned to Billy Joe.
“Yeah, we’re still in the same place,” he said, eyes locked on Mack.
The anxiousness in Ruby’s chest made a return. She was thinking hard to come up with another argument when Nonny spoke up again.
“It also set me to thinking that there would be other ways to find where Pa lived from year to year.” Her eyes blinked as if synchronized with her thoughts. “Wouldn’t be any property tax records, since he never owned any, but there’s state and federal income tax records, even census records that might give an idea where he lived.” Nonny raised her fork again, punctuating the air as if it were a sentence. “Let’s see, the Feds took the census every ten years, and the state might have taken a census in between, probably every other year—”
“Now hold on, Mack,” Ruby said again. “That could take a lot more time, even a trip to Oklahoma City. And you need to get back to work.”
Nonny shook her head. “The Genealogy Society and Courthouse downtown keep a lot of those records now so people can trace their genealogy. I help people trace their family from time to time.”
“Genealogy,” Ruby repeated, thinking the word sounded an awful lot like genes.
“Damn,” Mack murmured. “This could be easier than I thought. Where is this genealogy place?”
“Downtown, near the Masonic Lodge. You can’t miss it. But I’m by there every day and could do some checking if you want.”
“Tell you what,” Mack said. “Let me start with old man Turner. Depending on what I learn from him, may be no need to go that route. Let’s keep it in mind as a backup plan.”
As though consensus had been reached, everyone put their attention back on food. Except for Ruby. She sat staring at the others, the anxious feeling she felt earlier taking on uncommon weight and bearing down with tremendous force, as though she were a stone sinking into dark water.
“Ruby, you want to say something else?” Luther Winslow looked her direction. “You look like maybe you got something on your mind.”
Luther’s question turned the attention of the entire table onto Ruby. She looked at all of them, moving from one face to the next. Each was waiting for her to voice what was troubling her. Thoughts jumbled with feelings—resentment, indignation, shame—and she wanted to shout at them to stay out of her family’s business. But she couldn’t do that. They were her friends and their wives were her customers. She had to pull herself together.
Job, I have the patience of Job, she thought. Many have told me so.
A calmness came over Ruby then, and she put a smile on her face. Putting everything into the Lord’s hands, she opened her mouth and waited to hear what came out.
“Anyone ready for dessert?” she said. “I brought brownies, no nuts.”
