Finding Will Hennie Page 8

  “Oh, heck. I’ll have the curtains decorated with baseball cards and sports pins and fishing hooks. They’ll be fine. I can still smell moth balls, but that’s okay. It reminds me of Miss Ethel. She always smelled like them. It makes me feel like she’s still with me.”

  “I’m glad you like it,” Miss Marylee said, turning toward Mr. Tom. “Thank you for helping Will get moved in and making him feel comfortable.”

  “My pleasure, Miss Marylee.” Mr. Tom backed out of the room.

  “Will, it’s about supper time. Are you going to eat at the dining table?”

  “Not yet. I still like to sup with Berta. I love to hear her tales. She’s full of them.”

  “She’s full of—never mind. Get washed up and I’ll see you in the parlor after we eat. It’s been a respectable time and the radio will be turned on tonight. We’ll listen to Burns and Allen. I love that Gracie. She’s so funny. The rest of you can listen to the other shows. I’ll see you in a few minutes. Don’t be late.” Miss Marylee left the room.

  Before Will went downstairs, he couldn’t resist the urge to jump onto the bed. He backed up against the door, took off running, and with one leap, he landed in the middle of the bed. He felt his body sink in. It felt wonderful and he didn’t want to leave it. He rolled from side to side a few times and the softness of the mattress around him felt as if warm arms were hugging him on a cold night. A bed! A real bed! I never thought I’d ever sleep in a damn bed like a grownup. Shit fire! This is my kind of living. I sure hope you can see me, Gram. I miss you, Miss Ethel, but thanks for making it possible for me to have my own room and a real bed.

  Will forced himself to roll off the soft mattress and go downstairs. He was hungry.

  Will and Berta ate together and neither of them spoke, which was unusual. Finally, Will said, “Berta, how come you and Jim Bob never had any kids?”

  Berta almost choked on the bread she was chewing. She grabbed her water glass and washed it down. “You can ask the dandiest questions. But if’n ya really wanna know, I’ll tell ya. Jim Bob ain’t got what it takes for what it takes to make a kid.” She took another drink. “But you didn’t hear me say that.”

  Will laughed so hard, he almost choked.

  “You always did laugh at me, but yer the only one who thinks I’m funny. These boarders are all stuffed shirts. All prim and proper. It’s nice to be able to let my hair down, so to speak, when you’re around. You sure have brought a light to my darkest days.”

  “Bless the day you opened your heart to me, Berta.”

  “Bless the day you came to my door, Will Hennie.”

  Chapter Nine

  Will awoke to the smell of biscuits baking and coffee brewing in Berta’s new percolator. How he loved to wake up to the heavenly aroma. His bedroom was directly over the kitchen and the wonderful smell seemed to waft through the floor. He rolled out of bed and promptly made it, making sure there were no wrinkles in the spread. Miss Marylee had shown him how to make a bed and she insisted he do so each morning before he left his room. He walked into the closet and turned off the lamp. He’d burned out a few bulbs in the past two years, but Mr. Tom always had another one on hand.

  He dressed and went downstairs. He still ate breakfast and lunch with Berta in the kitchen, but he had been eating supper at the dining table with the other boarders for a year now. Berta pouted when he ate with the boarders, but Miss Marylee beamed.

  He bounded the stairs two at a time, anxious to get a cup of coffee. Miss Marylee said fourteen-years-old was too young for coffee, but Mr. Tom had come to Will’s defense, saying that he had drunk coffee since he was old enough to sit on his pappy’s knee and it hadn’t hurt him. Miss Marylee had given in.

  As Will reached the dining table he looked at the three chairs that were empty. He felt a lump in his throat. In his mind’s eye he could still see Miss Ethel, Miss Opal and Miss Sarah, sitting at the table at supper time, each of them waiting for him to tell them about his day and how he was doing with his lessons. How he wished they were here this morning so he could tell them that he had almost made it through high school. Miss Opal passed a year after Miss Ethel, and Miss Sarah passed six months after Miss Opal. One by one, all my family are dying. But my memories of them will never die. I never did beat Miss Sarah in a game of Chinese checkers.

  He touched the back of Miss Sarah’s chair, remembering the night he had awakened when he heard strange noises coming from Mr. Tom’s room. He was sure they were the same sounds he’d heard when he was living with Bee, and the house would fill up with people. He couldn’t go back to sleep, so he decided to go use the outhouse. He was about to open his door when he heard a familiar female giggle.

  He opened his bedroom door just a crack so he could see the hallway. He almost laughed out loud when he saw Miss Sarah shuffling down the hall in her night gown and house slippers. He looked toward Mr. Tom’s door and saw him smiling and watching Miss Sarah hurry on her way.

  Will shut his door and leaned against it, trying to stifle his laughter until they were both in their rooms with their doors shut. From that night on, he had the urge to laugh every time he played Chinese checkers with Miss Sarah, and when he played regular checkers with Mr. Tom.

  When Will was fourteen, Mr. Tom explained sex, and he didn’t mince words. Will understood, but he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to do it. Girls had begun to get his attention and he thought he might want to kiss one and find out what their breasts felt like, but he wasn’t sure about the sex thing. Mr. Tom told him that girls thought a boy belonged to them after you’d had sex with them. Will vowed that he wasn’t ever going to belong to a girl. The thing was, no girls he knew struck his fancy and he didn’t want any of them laying claim to him. Nellie Brown was still trying to get him to kiss her, but she just didn’t have any charm. Her brothers were vulgar, too. He didn’t have much use for the whole Brown family.

  Passing through the dining room, he patted Miss Sarah’s chair, then rushed into the kitchen. “Mornin’, Berta. How’s my favorite girl?” He kissed her cheek.

  “Fair to middlin’. How’s my favorite boy?”

  “Hungry. I’ll have a cup of coffee while I wait for the biscuits to come out of the oven. You still make the best biscuits in the world. You make the best everything in the world. Nobody can out cook you.”

  “Ah, ya ol’ sweet talker. You don’t have to butter me up so’s I’ll give you an extra helpin’ of milk gravy. You know I’m gonna.”

  Will poured a cup of coffee and as he drank the warm brew, he stood at the back door and looked through the window. “I’m sure glad you finally put up a new door with a window. It’s a beautiful morning. May is my favorite month. The world is coming alive after the long winter. I’ve only got one more week of school, then I’ve got the summer to goof off.”

  Berta snorted. “You’ve got your nose in a book all year around. So what difference does it make? You and Miss Marylee beat the band when it comes to books. So, are ya just about done with all yer schoolin’?”

  “Next week I’ll be finished with high school. I got through twelve grades in six years. Miss Marylee said since she was a certified school teacher, she’d contact the board of education about getting me a diploma. She said all she has to do is send them my grades, then they’ll send me a test. I’ll take the test and mail it back. If I pass it, they’ll mail me the diploma. I can’t wait to frame it and hang it on my wall. Are you going to raise nine kinds of hell if I put a nail in my bedroom wall?”

  “Nope. If ever there was a reason to put a hole in the wall, I say it would be to hang a diploma. I’m right proud of ya, Will. That first day when you come into my kitchen, I didn’t think there was a snowball’s chance in Hades that you’d ever amount to more than a hill of beans. You sure proved me wrong. And I’m glad ya did.”

  Will walked over to Berta and lifted her chin. “If it wasn’t for you and Miss Marylee, I would still be a pile of poop. You two made it possible for me to be who I am. I’m a handsome
pile of beans!”

  “That ya are, my sweet boy. Soon, them girls are gonna be all over ya like white on rice.”

  Will laughed. Berta was still as funny to him as she’d always been. “Where’s that confounded ol’ cuss?” he asked.

  “Probably out under the elm, playin’ that banjo. That’s where he is early mornin’s. He says early mornin’ is the only time he can breathe when he’s outside. Once the sun is over the tree, he comes back in and goes to bed. Don’t make a lick of sense to me. I can breathe all day. He’s just a lazy ol’ cuss.”

  “Whatever you say, Berta. I’m going to take him a cup of coffee and sit with him a spell.”

  Will heard Berta mumble, “Say what?” as he left the kitchen.

  Will went out the front door and he could hear Jim Bob playing the same tune he played several times a day. He walked over to him. “I brought you a cup of coffee, Jim Bob.”

  Jim Bob looked up, smiled and reached for the cup. “Thank ya. That’s mighty kind of ya.”

  “You’re very welcome. I sure like to see you smile. You need to do it more often.”

  “Ya don’t have to yell. I ain’t deef. I hear what I wanna. Truth is, I don’t wanna hear much and I ain’t got much to say, and I don’t smile ‘cause I don’t have much to smile about, and I don’t wanna show my teeth. They’s as crooked as a dog’s hind leg.”

  Will sat on the ground beside Jim Bob. “Well, I think your crooked teeth give you character. Nobody has perfect teeth. Look at mine,” he said, as he lifted his upper lip. “See how my eye teeth overlap my front teeth a little.”

  Jim Bob nodded and continued to play the banjo.

  “What tune are you playing? It’s right lively. I always want to dance when you play it.”

  ‘It’s called ‘Oh, Susanna.’ She went to Alabama with a banjo on her knee.”

  “Sing it for me, Jim Bob. I’d like to hear the lyrics.”

  “Can’t sing. I can whistle, but can’t carry a tune in a bucket.”

  “There’s nobody here but you and me. So sing it. C’mon. I bet you can sing as good as you whistle.”

  Jim Bob grinned. “I’ll do my best.”

  Will laughed as Jim Bob sang, “It rained all night the day I left, the weather it was dry—the sun so hot I froze to death.”

  “That’s the funniest song I’ve ever heard for sure. I think you should add another verse and say she had a toothache in her heel”

  Jim Bob laughed harder than Will had ever seen. “That be a good’ en. But I think that be another song.”

  Will laughed. “And you know what? Your singing isn’t bad. Sing it a few more times and I’ll learn the lyrics, then I’ll sing it with you.”

  “Here we go. Now listen up,” Jim Bob said and began to sing.

  Soon, Will had the lyrics memorized and he did his best to sing but he couldn’t stop laughing. Jim Bob laughed, too. “Will, that be the first time I’ve laughed since I was a pup. Yer good medicine. Thank ya fer takin’ a likenin’ to me and my music.”

  “Jim Bob, this has been one of the best mornings of my life. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to have my morning coffee out here with you, and if you’d give me a few lessons, I’d like to learn how to play the banjo.”

  “I’ll learn ya to play in no time. You shore made a happy man outta me this here mornin’. Thanks fer yer company and fer the coffee. But I need to get inside. I’m startin’ to gasp fer air. It happens ‘bout this time a day. I’ve been poorly like this all my dadburn life!”

  “Jim Bob, I think you might have asthma.”

  “I’ll have ya know I can ‘member things just fine! I said I can’t breathe.”

  “Not amnesia. That’s when you can’t remember. I said asthma. That’s when you can’t breathe. Have you ever taken medicine for it?”

  “Nope. I don’t take medicine. That stuff’s poison. I’ll be just fine. I just gotta get inside and stick my head in the icebox fer a few minutes, then listen to Berta yell at me. I pretend I can’t hear ’er. I’m deef when it comes to her.”

  Will watched Jim Bob walk away and his eyes stung. He was a good man and people just didn’t understand him. And he was sick. I like you, you confounded ol’ cuss.

  After Will ate breakfast and finished his chores, he went upstairs and knocked on Miss Marylee’s door. His heart warmed when he heard her sweet voice say, “Come in, Will.”

  “You always know it’s me. Can you see through that door?” he asked, as he kissed her cheek.

  “You have a special knock. It’s easy to recognize.” Her smiled broadened as she continued, “I special ordered some law books for you, but they haven’t arrived yet. You said you wanted to study law. I’m trying to get you set up to take some correspondence courses.”

  “That’s great. I really want to get started with my law lessons. But, I’ve got to tell you about me having coffee with Jim Bob, this morning. He’s a fine man and he’s going to teach me how to play the banjo. Can you believe that?”

  “That’s wonderful, Will. He’s never taken to anybody as far as I know. So you want to learn how to play the banjo? You’ve never expressed an interest in playing a musical instrument. I had no idea.”

  “I really don’t have an interest in playing any musical instrument. I just want to make Jim Bob feel like he’s important by him teaching me. I doubt if I’ll ever learn how to pluck a string.”

  From that morning on, Will and Jim Bob drank their morning coffee as they sat under the elm. Then the banjo lessons began. Will did his best but he couldn’t get the feel of the frets and he couldn’t pluck the five strings the right away. “I think I’d just like to hear you play, Jim Bob. Music just isn’t in my bones like it is yours. So you play and I’ll sing.”

  “I think ya be right. You’s just plum pitiful on the banjo. But ya can carry a tune in a bucket, just not good enough to ever get on the Grand Ole Opry. But ya got a deal. I’ll pluck and you sing.”

  One morning, Jim Bob was playing and Will was singing when a dog came up and lay down in front of them. When Will sang off key, the dog raised his head and howled. “Well, I guess you don’t like my singing, huh? Where did you come from?” He rubbed the dogs head.

  “Red. Red, where the hell are you? You better come back here!”

  Will looked up and saw Mr. Brown, who lived a block away. “Is he your dog?” Will asked.

  “Yeah, I just got’ im and he won’t stay home. Ain’t he a beaut? He’s what’s called a golden retriever, but he won’t stay in his own yard. Sorry if he’s botherin’ ya. Red, ya better get yer butt home. Don’t make me take a chain to ya.”

  “Let him stay, Mr. Brown. He likes our music. Well, he wasn’t too keen on my singing, but we like his company.”

  Red licked Will’s face. “Hey, I think he likes me though.” Will rubbed Red’s ears.

  “Yeah, he’s a real killer, he is. He’ll lick ya to death,” Mr. Brown said with a laugh. “If’n he ain’t botherin’ ya, he can stay. Just tell him to git when ya get tired of puttin’ up with him.”

  Will smelled liquor on Mr. Brown’s breath, and it gave him chills.

  When Mr. Brown walked away, Jim Bob hissed.

  “What was that all about, Jim Bob?”

  “It ain’t none of my business who ya be friends with and it ain’t my place to say nothin’ to ya, but if’n I don’t get it outta my craw I’m gonna choke.”

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “It’s them Browns. That man is nothin’ but a drunk, and his boys are mean. They’s always yelling nasty things at me. They be bad company fer ya. That’s all I’m gonna say.”

  “I’ve already figured that out. I’ve played kick the can with them and I still do at times, but mostly I keep my distance. His sons call me a sissy bookworm. His daughter is always trying to get me to do things with her. You know what I mean?”

  “Yeah, I know what ya mean. You’s too young to be doing the nasty with any girl, and ‘specially her. She’s got bad bloo
d in ’er.”

  “I agree. And I thank you for warning me. That’s what friends are for. We watch out for each other.”

  Jim Bob just tucked his head and picked the banjo. Well, you said that’s all you had to say. I guess it is. “I better be getting inside and eat breakfast, then get started on my chores before Berta comes looking for me.”

  Jim Bob just nodded.

  From that morning on, Will, Jim Bob, and Red spent the early mornings under the elm. Every time Will sang off key, Red would howl as if it hurt his ears.

  In the afternoons, Red accompanied Will and Mr. Tom to the field to play ball. When Will knocked a ball to the other end of the field, Red took off after it.

  “I sure am glad that dog goes after them balls. I’m getting’ too damn old to run,” Mr. Tom said.

  Before long, Red felt like a part of Will’s family.

  When summer came to an end, Will started spending his time studying law and he didn’t get to play with Red as often as he liked. He continued to have coffee with Jim Bob and Red before breakfast until late November.

  Snow came in early December that year. Will ran outside and caught flakes on his tongue. He hoped it would get deep enough to wallow in and he and Mr. Tom could have a snowball fight. As Will turned in circles, Red ran between his legs and knocked him to the ground. “Hey there, Red. You like snow too, huh? I tell you what—”

  Before Will could finish his sentence, Mr. Tom ran out to the porch and yelled. “Them damn Japanese done went and bombed Pearl Harbor! We’s goin’ to war. Get in here, Will. It’s all on the radio.”

  “You listen to it and tell me all about it when I come in. Red and me are having fun.”

  “Suit ya’self. Just think ya oughta care enough ‘bout yer country and wanna know what’s goin’ on!”

  Will jumped when he heard Jim Bob picking his banjo. He walked over to the elm. “When did you come out? I thought it would be too cold for you this morning. You want me to get you a cup of coffee?”

  “Done had some. I just wanted to come outside and play before it gets so cold I can’t stand it. It’ll probably be my last time fer a spell.”