Age:
High School
Reading Level: 2.9
Chapter 1 - Up To No Good
"Nowhere," Suzanne yelled back. Granny stood in the door watching Suzanne make her way down our long, sandy drive. Granny had a cloudy look on her face. I hated Suzanne for worrying her.
Papa, my grandpa, was sitting in his recliner. He didn't stray very far from his recliner these days, or from his bottle of bourbon and his coffee cup that sat between his chair and the end table. I guess he thought it was hidden, but we all knew it was there.
"I don't know, Papa," I said.
I grabbed my tennis shoes from beside the couch and went on the porch to put them on. I didn't like being around Papa now. He had an old, sick smell. The kind of smell people get when they have lived past their usefulness.
We made our way to the garden in silence. Wisps of wind sent the smell of ivory soap from Granny, who was walking ahead of me. I knew she was thinking about Suzanne.
Suzanne was a year and a half older than me. She was fifteen and I was thirteen. She seemed much older. She hated being a child and tried her best to grow up quickly. She'd been giving Papa and Granny a fit all her life.
Mama had Suzanne when she was young. Mama ran away with our daddy at sixteen, breaking my grandparents' hearts. Suzanne was my Papa's favorite because she looked just like Mama.
"You start in the peas, I'll get the squash," she added.
Chapter 2 - Rose's Goodbye
Rose was tall and skinny. She had long, dirty blonde hair. It was parted in the middle and hung down her back. How I envied that hair. She was "shades" of pretty. Not pretty at first glance, but pretty at certain times. She didn't smile very often.
Not at all like me who smiled too much, at everyone, at any moment. She reserved her smiles, using them only for a truly happy time. She wasn't the type to smile upon spotting me across the field, or meeting new people, or just for the hell of it.
I loved staying over at Rose's house on the weekends! It was so different from being at home. I felt worthwhile at her house, not "in the way." We would cook supper and wash dishes, fold clothes, and do "mother things."
Rose was used to it. It made me feel mature. Rose's father would bid us good night, and we would have full reign over the house. We could eat and stay up late.
I'd drift off to sleep in her bed and smile to myself and feel happy inside.
"Dad is happy about it," she said. "Wilmington's a nice town. Dad will have more business. I'll miss you, Caroline." I continued my crying.
"You can visit me. It's on the coast!" Rose said with a rare smile.
"Yeah," was all I could say.
We both knew I'd never visit her. Even in our twelve-year-old minds, we knew.
The next Friday, the day Rose left, I was sitting on our back porch. The sun had just risen with a rage. I spotted her walking up the rows of the tall tobacco plants. She was smiling.
Papa came out on the porch and saw her leaving. I tried to dry my eyes.
"Life is full of heartache, Caroline," Papa said, "but it goes on."
Chapter 3 - Ugly as Razzy Gentry
I was still staring off at Rose's house when Granny interrupted my thoughts. "Finish up your peas," Granny said. She was carrying a shirt-tail full of yellow squash. "And get your head out of the clouds."
I finished and went to the well and got a drink. I looked out across the sandy fields surrounding our yard. They were once full of big, green tobacco plants. They were once full of hot, sweaty workers. Papa was once one of the most successful farmers in our community. That was before his stroke. The stroke left him paralyzed on the left side. The stroke took away his spirit.
When Papa was farming, he and I would get up before the sun came up. God, I loved that time of day. The bright light in the kitchen made it seem even darker outside. I'd go to the porch and let the cool, damp air hit my face.
Papa would make us fried eggs, grits, and sausage. We'd warm up some of Granny's biscuits left over from supper.
"Us farmers got to start the day off right, don't we girl?" he'd say with a wink.
"Yes sir, we do!"
Papa and I would eat and then get in his truck and check the fields and barns already curing. "A fine crop this year," he'd say.
We'd go to the well and fill up the water tanks for the workers, then head into town for ice, sodas, and saltines.
I jumped on that tractor and worked the steering wheel and tried my damnedest to back up that long trailer full of tobacco. I felt the staring eyes. I knew all those men were watching. The more I steered and backed, the more nervous I got. I knew I couldn't do it, but in my ten-year-old heart, I'd do it or die.
"If you don't get that frown off your face, it'll stick and you'll be ugly as Razzy Gentry. If you don't behave, you'll turn out meaner than Razzy Gentry. If you don't quit eating, you'll be as fat as Razzy Gentry."
"Get off that tractor! Ain't you got a lick of sense?" said Papa. "Start picking up that tobacco before it goes to wilting."
Papa had been mad and embarrassed for having Razzy Gentry for a granddaughter.
I never learned how to backup a tractor. I was never allowed to get on one again.
"Come and eat you some lunch, Caroline," Granny yelled out the front door.
"Did you water the dogs?" Papa asked.
"I will after I eat," I said. Papa just nodded. He always looked so angry, the left side of his face turned down in an eternal scowl becauseof the stroke. He finished his sandwich and rose with the help of his cane. He limped out of the kitchen, without a word, back to his recliner.
"Caroline, why don't you go check the peach trees today? I could make us a cobbler," she said with a sweet smile.
"Okay," I smiled back.
"But don't forget to water the dogs first," she half-whispered with a fake scowl. We both made a little giggle.