Halley Page 4

  Halley was still thinking about the stone when they left the churchyard. But when they reached the Calvin house a short while later, such thoughts were driven away. The house was big, with porches wrapping around three sides. It had a sparkling cheerfulness about it too. It wasn’t just the paint. The yard was dotted with flower beds. Cactus plants were set up on posts, probably to keep children away from the prickly spines.

  There were rope swings hanging from trees and a big swing on the front porch. There was a playhouse off to one side with its own little porch and windows. Halley couldn’t imagine Pa Franklin taking the money, time, or effort to build something like this for his children or grandchildren.

  Three girls, the youngest around Halley’s age, met them on the porch. They were all plump and pretty blondes. Dimple would have died of envy if she could have seen their bosoms.

  “I’m Clarice,” the tallest one said. “And these are my sisters, Eva and Lacey.” She turned to her sisters. “See, I told you Halley was pretty like her mother. I recollected that from when they come to our church.”

  Halley blushed. She wasn’t accustomed to being called pretty, because she wasn’t. Mainly people noticed how strong and healthy she was, or what a hard worker, or how smart she was in books. “I don’t favor my mother,” she said. “I’m more like my father.”

  Mrs. Calvin came out, and Robbie gave her the remaining jar of honey and then ran off to play with the Calvin boys, who had come from behind the house.

  “Dooley, Steve!” Lacey called after them. “Show Robbie the new puppies.”

  “There were supposed to be two jars of honey,” Halley said when she presented the preserves and tomatoes, “but Robbie dropped one.”

  “No one needs to know. Come in, come in. While I get dinner on, you girls go through the clothes. Pick out for your mother and brother, too.”

  The girls took Halley down a long hallway to what obviously was their room. There were two large beds. A dresser with a big mirror stood next to a large wardrobe with another mirror. Frilly curtains hung at the windows and colorful quilts covered the beds. Sunshine made the wide board floors gleam. It smelled like sunshine and starch and talcum powder.

  Stacked on a table were some things that were not quilts, but from a distance almost looked like them. Close up, Halley could see they were fuzzy flower patterns on a fuzzy background.

  “Chenille,” explained Eva. “These are the tufted bedspreads we’ve done this week. You didn’t see any before?”

  Halley shook her head.

  “We earn money doing ’em.”

  Eva pulled a box from under the bed. She showed Halley the sheets of unbleached muslin fabric with a blue design stamped on each. There was a smaller box of colored spools of yarn that had to be sewn into the designs with large needles.

  “I hate clipping threads,” said Lacey. “If you nip the cloth, even a little, Mr. Bonner won’t pay you for the spreads.”

  “How much does he pay?” Halley asked eagerly.

  “Different amounts,” Eva replied. “Twenty-five cents for some. Thirty-five for others. Depends on the amount of work.”

  Before Halley could ask more, Clarice pulled her over to a big box in one corner. “Everything in here is going to look beautiful on you, with your good build.”

  Halley blushed. “Me? I don’t have any shape at all.”

  “Yes, you do!” Eva said. “Little bitty waist, slim legs, and you’re beginning to sprout a bosom.”

  Self-conscious, Halley folded her arms across her chest.

  “Do you wear a brassiere?”

  Halley nodded. “One I made.”

  “One of the bought ones in this box will do better,” said Clarice. “Close the curtains, Lacey.” She pulled a yellow print dress from the box. “Try this.”

  “We’ll turn our backs ’til you’re dressed,” said Eva.

  The girls turned away, but they continued going through the box, tossing boy clothing in one pile and girl clothing in another.

  “I’m dressed,” said Halley when she was buttoned up.

  “Oh,” said Clarice, “if only I could wear that dress and look that good. Then maybe I could catch Gid’s eye.”

  Eva nudged Halley. “She’s sweet on your uncle.”

  Halley could think of nothing to say.

  “Little good it does me. Only one I can catch is Homer.”

  “I think Homer Russell is good-looking,” said Eva. “I’d go with him in a minute.”

  Clarice took Halley by the shoulders and turned her toward the wardrobe mirror. “Look at yourself.”

  Halley could not believe her eyes. She looked older and prettier, and she had more shape. It made her feel good in one way, but it worried her too. She wasn’t ready to look this grown-up.

  “Wear that to church and you’ll have a feller in no time,” said Lacey.

  “If there are any boys left that didn’t already join the CCC,” said Eva.

  “CCC stands for Civilian something, something,” Clarice explained when Halley looked puzzled. “It’s government jobs for young men who can’t find paying work. They plant trees, fill in washed-out land, clear out creeks, and stuff like that. Trouble is, the government takes the boys so far off that they can’t court girls around here.”

  “Too bad they don’t just take the sorry ones like Stan Duncan,” said Eva. “Nobody’d miss him except his mama.”

  In response to Halley’s questioning look, Clarice went on, “Never works. All Stan does is run that car of his daddy’s into the ground and throw away money.”

  “And they say he’s got two girls in trouble already,” Lacey whispered.

  “Let Halley try on clothes,” said Clarice, changing the subject.

  Halley ended up taking three dresses, two brassieres, and two raincoats—one for her and one for her mother. There were three pairs of pants and two shirts that looked like they would fit Robbie. Halley tried to head home after she wrestled Robbie away from the puppies and determined that the clothing she had picked for him was a good enough fit, but the Calvin girls wouldn’t allow it.

  “We’ve got to show you how to tuft,” Clarice insisted. Then Mrs. Calvin had dinner on the table and simply wouldn’t accept a refusal to her invitation to eat.

  Halley could hardly believe the feast on the table when they sat down. Chicken and dumplings and about six different fresh vegetables. For dessert, there was peach cobbler.

  Robbie’s eyes were large. “Ma and Pa Franklin don’t ever have food like this!” he exclaimed after the blessing.

  The Calvins looked at each other and Halley kicked her brother under the table. “We have enough to eat,” she said.

  The amount of food Robbie piled on his plate gave her the lie. He had seconds on everything, including the cobbler. As for Halley, it was the happy conversation during the meal as much as the food that she enjoyed. She hated for dinner to end, but she knew there would be trouble if she stayed much later.

  “See you at church on Sunday,” Clarice called as Halley and Robbie were leaving.

  “See you then,” Halley answered, but her mind wasn’t on church or the dinner on the grounds after services. Her thoughts had returned to her father’s marker. Now she knew how she could get the money for it. She was going to tuft spreads!

  4. Dinner on the Ground

  Gid was as good as his word. On Saturday, despite his father’s continued objections, he quit work at dinnertime.

  Meanwhile, Kate, Halley and Ma Franklin cooked for Sunday. “Webb allows me to cook plenty of vittles for dinner on the ground,” Ma Franklin said. “We’ll bake the cakes and pies today and fry chicken tomorrow morning.”

  When the baking was finished, Ma Franklin set Kate and Halley to making pear preserves while she spot-cleaned and ironed Pa Franklin’s second-best white summer suit. Trim and muscular, Pa Fr
anklin had a number of store-bought suits, and he knew he looked good in them.

  Ma Franklin chuckled over her ironing. “Webb’s as particular about his preaching clothes as when we was courting.”

  “Doesn’t that bother you?” Halley asked. “I mean, him all dressed up in fancy clothes when you don’t have anything nice to wear.”

  Ma Franklin waved away the very idea. “I don’t need nothing fancy. I ain’t up in front of the crowd like Webb, and Webb says people wouldn’t think it was fitting for a preacher’s wife. They wouldn’t ever give him any love offerings if I was all decked out like a rich man’s wife.”

  “Do they pay him anything?” Halley asked. “I mean, a salary?”

  “Heavens no,” Ma Franklin replied. “That’s how we know our preachers really got called. They ain’t preaching for money.”

  Halley laughed. “If our Methodist preacher in Alpha Springs is doing it for money, I feel sorry for him, little as he gets.”

  Halley looked out the doorway and saw Robbie lining up bottles along one wall of the dogtrot hallway—milk of magnesia bottles, castor oil bottles, shoe polish bottles. There were a number of hair oil and hair tonic bottles, too. Robbie had discovered them all at the dump area back behind the barn. But bottle collecting seemed innocent enough, and he had apparently finished all his chores. The wood box was full and the yard fresh-swept. Halley told herself to quit worrying.

  What she needed to put her thoughts on was tufted bedspreads. She had to explain the plan to Kate and get her support before letting the Franklins know anything. The trouble was, Ma Franklin was almost always within earshot, and, while she could be deaf as a post when she wished, the old lady’s hearing was sharp when she wasn’t supposed to hear.

  After bath time that night, Halley finally had her chance. Robbie was already in bed asleep, and Kate and Halley were getting ready for bed.

  Halley repeated all the Calvin girls had told her about tufting and described the spreads they’d finished. “Clarice and Eva say they’ll teach me, and I aim to start tufting,” she said.

  Kate nodded. “Pa’ll be glad to have more money coming in.”

  “Mama! I’m not giving him the money,” Halley burst out. She looked toward the cot where Robbie was apparently fast asleep with a bottle clutched in one hand, and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’m working to buy a tombstone for Daddy.”

  Kate shook her head. “Pa already said he would make a cross to mark the grave.”

  “Daddy wouldn’t want one of those crosses,” Halley snapped. “You know he wouldn’t. Can’t you stand up to them on this one thing?”

  Kate bowed her head.

  Halley took no mercy. “Pa Franklin kept all the money from our place and the animals he sold, and the equipment and the furnishings. We work here every day, and you know he’ll take our cotton picking money and your mill pay. Can’t I keep this money to buy a marker?”

  “I’ll ask,” Kate finally said, “but don’t count on anything.”

  Looking at her mother, with her hair let down for bed, made Halley think of happier times, only a couple of weeks ago when her father was living, and they had their own house. “I miss Daddy,” she said. “Oh, how I wish . . .”

  Kate stopped her. “Don’t wish. All we got is now.”

  Halley was stunned. “I can’t even remember?”

  “No use. You can’t go back,” Kate said and got into bed.

  Halley shook her head and then blew out the lamp. “I intend to remember.”

  Sunday morning came all too soon. Milking, feeding animals, cooking, and cleaning up after breakfast all had to be done same as any other day—only with fewer hands, for Gid was slow getting out of bed. When finally up, he was in a gloomy mood. Halley dared not ask if he’d seen Bootsie or found out what Tom decided about Buck. But that didn’t stop Robbie.

  “Is Buck riding in the train yet?” he asked when they were sitting down to breakfast.

  “Yep,” Gid replied. “Headed to Atlanta yesterday. Belcher said if you keep an eye out for the four o’clock train at Crider switch, you’ll see your dog.”

  Pa Franklin let out a dismissive grunt.

  Ma Franklin spoke up before he had a chance to say anything. “Everybody got church clothes ready?”

  “I’m going to wear the yellow dress the Calvins gave me,” Halley answered. “I ironed Robbie’s best pants and shirt yesterday, and Mama’s light blue dress.”

  Ma Franklin shook her head. “Light blue won’t do a’tall. Kate’s got to wear her black funeral dress. People would say she’s looking for a man. After a few months it’s all right to ease back into regular clothes, long as she don’t get too fancy.”

  Gid pulled out of his gloom long enough to say, “Reckon you’ll have to put away all your lace and satin stuff, Kate. And if I was you, I’d leave off all them pearls and rubies and diamonds.”

  After breakfast, when the women were frying the last of the chicken, Pa Franklin made his appearance in his white suit. His white hat he hung on a nail next to the door. He strutted about until Ma Franklin took the hint and bragged how fine he looked.

  “Mules are hitched and I’ve pulled the wagon round,” Gid called from the porch. “Ma, you ready for me to load food?”

  “Just about,” she answered, setting a bowl of green beans down in a washtub with a bowl of butter beans and a jar of peach pickles. Turning to Robbie, she said, “Stack wood in the dogtrot. My neck and back tell me we’ll have rain tonight or tomorrow.” She looked toward a window. “Hope it don’t come early and ruin the church dinner.”

  “Dinner!” said Pa Franklin. “I’m more worried about cotton picking this week. If it rains much tonight, we’ll not be able to pick tomorrow.” Pa Franklin handed Halley an old quilt. “Cover the wagon seat. I don’t want to dirty up my suit. Stay!” he ordered Goliath when Halley started out. “Don’t let him touch that quilt. I’m not going to have dog hair and stink on my clothes.”

  Goliath sat down with a mournful expression and a low-pitched whine. He sounded like Buck.

  Robbie must have thought so, too, for he ventured a quick, consoling pat on Golly’s hindquarters as he headed for the woodshed. Golly stood and fell in step behind Robbie.

  On the wagon, Gid rigged a second bench behind the one where the driver sat, and then he began loading washtubs of food. “Me and you’ll have to keep these tubs from sliding about,” he said to Halley.

  “And your other job is to see that the boy behaves hisself,” Pa Franklin said.

  At last it was time to leave. Pa Franklin sat in the driver’s seat, pulling his pants legs up by the creases and arranging the fabric for the least amount of wrinkles. Gid helped his mother and Kate onto the wagon, and then he sat next to Kate.

  Halley missed Gid’s jokes and singing but could think of nothing to cheer him. She took her seat on the end of the wagon bed, where she could keep an eye on the tubs and make sure the tablecloth covering remained in place. Robbie sat next to her, holding his favorite bottle, the one he had taken to bed last night. Why he liked this one so much was a mystery. It was a plain old shoe polish bottle that still had its bent and rusted lid. Robbie kept shaking it and trying to get the lid off. He even tried to get help from Gid, but Gid ignored him.

  “Put it down ’til we get back,” Halley whispered.

  Robbie steadfastly refused, and she finally gave up. What could it hurt? After all, her grandfather wasn’t complaining, not even when Robbie pounded the lid on the side of the wagon. Pa Franklin was busy examining the cotton fields they passed. He estimated how many days of picking each represented, and how many bales they might produce. Known far and wide as the best picker around, he was counting on being champion again this year.

  “I pick just as hard for the other feller as I did for myself back when I had enough young’uns home to raise cotton,” he bragged.


  “And the fact that he gets paid by the pound don’t have a thing in the world to do with it,” Gid said.

  Hopewell Church had just come into sight when disaster struck. Robbie pounded the lid of his bottle one more time and then shook it up and down extra hard. Suddenly the lid popped off and dark liquid spewed toward the front of the wagon.

  “What in the name of God!” Pa Franklin roared. “Whoa!”

  “Oh no,” whispered Robbie, tossing the bottle into the bushes along the road bank.

  Halley swung around to see her grandfather’s beautiful white hat and suit speckled with black. The sprinkles had also landed on Kate, Ma Franklin, and Gid, but because their clothes were dark, the spots hardly showed.

  Gid looked at his father and burst into laughter. “You look like a flock of crows with bowel trouble just flew over and emptied on you.”

  Robbie shrank against Halley.

  At that moment a car came from behind and roared past. Dust rose and settled over them in a thick coating.

  “Dag blast it!” Pa Franklin bellowed, standing and shaking his fist at the car. “What else is going to happen?”

  Gid broke into fresh hoots of laughter. Pa Franklin got off the wagon, trying to dust himself off and wipe off spots of black. It was useless.

  “What I’d like to know is, what is this stuff?” he demanded, rounding the wagon and looking at Robbie and Halley suspiciously, “and where did it come from?” Robbie shrank up smaller than ever, and Halley became busy adjusting the tablecloth over the tubs.

  Gid wiped his eyes and straightened his face. “I think it dropped from this tree hanging over the road,” he said. “Seems like I seen some birds fly off just after it happened.”

  “Shit!” said Pa Franklin. Then he looked at Robbie and said, “That’s just calling a thing what it is.” He sniffed at a big spot on one sleeve. “Don’t stink.”

  “Bird poop generally don’t,” said Gid.

  “You going to church with your suit in that mess?” Ma Franklin asked in a small voice.