head with a confidence that reminded me of a grown man. By the second day kids who wouldn’t let me sit at their tables were lining the lunchroom seats next to Beau and me.
He even worked his magic on Nana and Poppy. When Nana first refused to let me go fishing with strangers, Beau had his mama stop by so we could see that she was decent. She had curly red hair and a beauty mark on the side of her chin just like Miss Kitty on Gunsmoke .
“Where y’all from?” Bonita asked. She let the standard answer fly past and soon started telling Poppy that she heard a big government contract was going to bring in a lot more work to the marina where he was working.
“Well, that sure is good news,” Poppy said and brushed away a gnat.
“Yeah, well I heard it the other day down at Nap’s Corner. It’s a restaurant just the other side of the bridge. I work there four days a week. And what about you, Pauline? You working?”
Nana pulled her shirt down lower. “No, but I’ve been studying about trying to pick something up. You know, just while Brandon’s in school.”
Bonita waved her hands like an excited baby. “Ooh, ooh . . .
you ought to come down and talk with Nap. But Nap’s not his real name. They say it’s really Enoch or some other Bible name. Anyway, we got a spot open on the lunch crew. He fired that other girl.
I warned her that Nap wouldn’t put up with being late. Anyway, the tips are real good and the best thing is you can be home when school lets out.” She ran her hands through Beau’s hair until he edged away. “I sure believe in being home when my kids walk through the door.”
When Bonita and her husband, Johnny, returned with Beau the following Saturday, a boy not more than six was sitting on top of a big Slow Way Home
71
spare tire in the back of the truck. Later Beau introduced the boy as his brother, Josh. The dark-skinned boy with auburn hair smiled to reveal a missing front tooth.
Johnny brushed off his hand and removed a faded baseball cap. He nodded patiently and answered Nana’s questions about the safety of his boat. Feeling blood burn my face, I was relieved when Poppy patted her shoulder. “I want y’all to bring us back a mess now.”
Out on the sea, the heavy sun broke the November chill. The boat rocked with the currents, and a band of seagulls seeking handouts followed close behind. We settled near a marshy island. Besides the seagulls, the only visible life on the island was an eagle’s nest tucked on top of a dead tree.
Salt from the air tickled my tongue, and when no one was looking, I stuck it out to see if any would gather.
“Brandon, honey, do you need to put on your windbreaker? It’s getting chilly,” Bonita said.
I shook my head, and watched as Johnny arranged a folded net on the plywood that covered the back of the boat. The net squished together to form the shape of an accordion that Johnny played like a skilled musician. Then, without saying a word, they all took their places as Johnny drove the boat around in a wide circle.
“Hey, man. You better get over here and help. We ain’t catching your supper for you.” Johnny’s broad smile and a point at the steering wheel was all I needed. Gripping the sun-baked metal, I could see Johnny out of the corner of my eye. He lit a cigarette and pretended like he wasn’t watching.
The front of the boat dipped to meet the white-crested waves. I dug my toes deeper into the soles of my shoes and rocked only a little bit. Johnny laughed and yelled to the others. “Look at ol’ Brandon.
He’s working it now.” Only twice did he reach down and adjust my direction. His touch was that of leather, and his thick fingers were nicked in a way that made me think of tree bark.
We circled wide, and then Johnny took back control, directing the boat into the middle of the net we had dropped off. Beau and Bonita 72
m i c h a e l m o r r i s
yanked the motor up with one swift pull. Once inside the net’s circle, they
He even worked his magic on Nana and Poppy. When Nana first refused to let me go fishing with strangers, Beau had his mama stop by so we could see that she was decent. She had curly red hair and a beauty mark on the side of her chin just like Miss Kitty on Gunsmoke .
“Where y’all from?” Bonita asked. She let the standard answer fly past and soon started telling Poppy that she heard a big government contract was going to bring in a lot more work to the marina where he was working.
“Well, that sure is good news,” Poppy said and brushed away a gnat.
“Yeah, well I heard it the other day down at Nap’s Corner. It’s a restaurant just the other side of the bridge. I work there four days a week. And what about you, Pauline? You working?”
Nana pulled her shirt down lower. “No, but I’ve been studying about trying to pick something up. You know, just while Brandon’s in school.”
Bonita waved her hands like an excited baby. “Ooh, ooh . . .
you ought to come down and talk with Nap. But Nap’s not his real name. They say it’s really Enoch or some other Bible name. Anyway, we got a spot open on the lunch crew. He fired that other girl.
I warned her that Nap wouldn’t put up with being late. Anyway, the tips are real good and the best thing is you can be home when school lets out.” She ran her hands through Beau’s hair until he edged away. “I sure believe in being home when my kids walk through the door.”
When Bonita and her husband, Johnny, returned with Beau the following Saturday, a boy not more than six was sitting on top of a big Slow Way Home
71
spare tire in the back of the truck. Later Beau introduced the boy as his brother, Josh. The dark-skinned boy with auburn hair smiled to reveal a missing front tooth.
Johnny brushed off his hand and removed a faded baseball cap. He nodded patiently and answered Nana’s questions about the safety of his boat. Feeling blood burn my face, I was relieved when Poppy patted her shoulder. “I want y’all to bring us back a mess now.”
Out on the sea, the heavy sun broke the November chill. The boat rocked with the currents, and a band of seagulls seeking handouts followed close behind. We settled near a marshy island. Besides the seagulls, the only visible life on the island was an eagle’s nest tucked on top of a dead tree.
Salt from the air tickled my tongue, and when no one was looking, I stuck it out to see if any would gather.
“Brandon, honey, do you need to put on your windbreaker? It’s getting chilly,” Bonita said.
I shook my head, and watched as Johnny arranged a folded net on the plywood that covered the back of the boat. The net squished together to form the shape of an accordion that Johnny played like a skilled musician. Then, without saying a word, they all took their places as Johnny drove the boat around in a wide circle.
“Hey, man. You better get over here and help. We ain’t catching your supper for you.” Johnny’s broad smile and a point at the steering wheel was all I needed. Gripping the sun-baked metal, I could see Johnny out of the corner of my eye. He lit a cigarette and pretended like he wasn’t watching.
The front of the boat dipped to meet the white-crested waves. I dug my toes deeper into the soles of my shoes and rocked only a little bit. Johnny laughed and yelled to the others. “Look at ol’ Brandon.
He’s working it now.” Only twice did he reach down and adjust my direction. His touch was that of leather, and his thick fingers were nicked in a way that made me think of tree bark.
We circled wide, and then Johnny took back control, directing the boat into the middle of the net we had dropped off. Beau and Bonita 72
m i c h a e l m o r r i s
yanked the motor up with one swift pull. Once inside the net’s circle, they
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