“About a real one; I don’t care about make-believe anymore.”
“You probably don’t remember Granny Boone, but she was my favorite.” He shushed me from ever sharing that secret before he went on. “When I was at school at Tulane, I woke up one night and saw her standing at the foot of my bed. I thought it was strange that she was there, but I wasn’t scared. She smiled at me and told me to go back to sleep, so I did. About a half hour later, Jack called to tell me Granny’d passed.”
A quick shiver ran through me, and I stopped fanning my menu. “Really?”
“Yes, missy.” Uncle Lee nodded. “Our family’s so full of ghosts, we could rent ’em out two for a dollar. Uncle Bobby got a call from his wife the day after her funeral.” He put his menu down as our waiter approached. “Then again, Uncle Bobby thinks the CIA is stealing his trash. I don’t know that you can take that one for the gospel.”
I ordered, then willed the waiter away so I could get back to my haunted family. “Who else?”
Uncle Lee leaned back and said, “You tell me.”
There was that tone that said he knew, that said I could confide in him. Breathlessly, I said, “I saw Elijah Landry in the cemetery.”
Uncle Lee’s smile changed; it turned shaded and thoughtful. “Is that so?”
I realized if Daddy knew him, Uncle Lee must have, too. “Y’all got on?”
Squeezing lemon into his sweet tea, Uncle Lee nodded. “He was Jack’s best friend. What makes you think it was him?”
“He said so. He wrote me a note. And I saw pictures in the newspaper; I know it was him. He wants me to find him. That’s what we’ve been doing this summer.”
“How about you back up,” Uncle Lee said.
So I did, to the beginning. All through étouffée and first coffee, I spilled it out, until I had nothing left in me but a lingering doubt. Turning my glass with the tips of my fingers, I asked, “Am I crazy?”
“No.” Uncle Lee shook his head. “Papa Charles buying four dead mules on purpose, that was crazy. This is just wound up.”
Uneasy, I pulled my chair closer to the table. “It’s true, though.”
“I believe you,” he said. “But I’m glad you’re done with it. What you’re talking about, Eli wasn’t like that. He had his moods, but he was kind.”
The way he said it made me feel ashamed, like I’d been caught talking about somebody behind their back. I fibbed and said, “Maybe it’s not him, then. He could still be alive.”
Uncle Lee set his napkin aside. “I think Jack would have heard from him.” He slid the dessert menu in front of me. “Pick something with strawberries for me. I’ll be right back.”
“Wait, one more?” I touched his elbow, and he stopped beside me. “Why was he in the hospital before he went missing?”
Uncle Lee paused. “I don’t remember, Iris. It was a long time ago.”
Left alone, I swallowed up my thoughts and turned to look at the people around me. In a corner booth, a brown-skinned woman tried to coax mouthfuls of rice into a baby bent on making a mess instead.
The table closest to me had two older ladies who looked fresh from church. They wore bright red suits and hats to match, and if I leaned right, I could smell their perfume, sweet and powdery.
When the waiter returned, I ordered something chocolate for me and something strawberry for Uncle Lee. The waiter tapped his pen on his order pad as he walked away. After the waiter passed my table, a boy across the way waved at me, and my cheeks went hot. I glanced at my new shirt, wondering how grown I looked, then, curiously, raised my head again.
My lunch turned to stone in my belly. It was Elijah. He sprawled back in the booth, feet up, jeans covering his sneakers. He smiled, and I saw his mouth moving.
I didn’t need to hear to understand him.
“Iris?”
I started, looking up to see Uncle Lee standing beside me, blocking my view. He had a friendly, curious lightness to his voice. “You woolgathering,
“You probably don’t remember Granny Boone, but she was my favorite.” He shushed me from ever sharing that secret before he went on. “When I was at school at Tulane, I woke up one night and saw her standing at the foot of my bed. I thought it was strange that she was there, but I wasn’t scared. She smiled at me and told me to go back to sleep, so I did. About a half hour later, Jack called to tell me Granny’d passed.”
A quick shiver ran through me, and I stopped fanning my menu. “Really?”
“Yes, missy.” Uncle Lee nodded. “Our family’s so full of ghosts, we could rent ’em out two for a dollar. Uncle Bobby got a call from his wife the day after her funeral.” He put his menu down as our waiter approached. “Then again, Uncle Bobby thinks the CIA is stealing his trash. I don’t know that you can take that one for the gospel.”
I ordered, then willed the waiter away so I could get back to my haunted family. “Who else?”
Uncle Lee leaned back and said, “You tell me.”
There was that tone that said he knew, that said I could confide in him. Breathlessly, I said, “I saw Elijah Landry in the cemetery.”
Uncle Lee’s smile changed; it turned shaded and thoughtful. “Is that so?”
I realized if Daddy knew him, Uncle Lee must have, too. “Y’all got on?”
Squeezing lemon into his sweet tea, Uncle Lee nodded. “He was Jack’s best friend. What makes you think it was him?”
“He said so. He wrote me a note. And I saw pictures in the newspaper; I know it was him. He wants me to find him. That’s what we’ve been doing this summer.”
“How about you back up,” Uncle Lee said.
So I did, to the beginning. All through étouffée and first coffee, I spilled it out, until I had nothing left in me but a lingering doubt. Turning my glass with the tips of my fingers, I asked, “Am I crazy?”
“No.” Uncle Lee shook his head. “Papa Charles buying four dead mules on purpose, that was crazy. This is just wound up.”
Uneasy, I pulled my chair closer to the table. “It’s true, though.”
“I believe you,” he said. “But I’m glad you’re done with it. What you’re talking about, Eli wasn’t like that. He had his moods, but he was kind.”
The way he said it made me feel ashamed, like I’d been caught talking about somebody behind their back. I fibbed and said, “Maybe it’s not him, then. He could still be alive.”
Uncle Lee set his napkin aside. “I think Jack would have heard from him.” He slid the dessert menu in front of me. “Pick something with strawberries for me. I’ll be right back.”
“Wait, one more?” I touched his elbow, and he stopped beside me. “Why was he in the hospital before he went missing?”
Uncle Lee paused. “I don’t remember, Iris. It was a long time ago.”
Left alone, I swallowed up my thoughts and turned to look at the people around me. In a corner booth, a brown-skinned woman tried to coax mouthfuls of rice into a baby bent on making a mess instead.
The table closest to me had two older ladies who looked fresh from church. They wore bright red suits and hats to match, and if I leaned right, I could smell their perfume, sweet and powdery.
When the waiter returned, I ordered something chocolate for me and something strawberry for Uncle Lee. The waiter tapped his pen on his order pad as he walked away. After the waiter passed my table, a boy across the way waved at me, and my cheeks went hot. I glanced at my new shirt, wondering how grown I looked, then, curiously, raised my head again.
My lunch turned to stone in my belly. It was Elijah. He sprawled back in the booth, feet up, jeans covering his sneakers. He smiled, and I saw his mouth moving.
I didn’t need to hear to understand him.
“Iris?”
I started, looking up to see Uncle Lee standing beside me, blocking my view. He had a friendly, curious lightness to his voice. “You woolgathering,
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