Solemn by Kalisha Buckhanon Page A

He’s off to the Army.”
    â€œOh my.”
    They had bumbled back from the Gulf War by now, all around them, even now searching for a footing and reminding anyone who would listen that they were “Desert Storm”—looking for work, for homes, for new ears to put war stories into, for new women to love or the old ones they left behind. Supposedly they had a syndrome: depression, lethargy, listlessness, even rage. With no plans to upgrade to a bigger house anywhere and Landon not finding a full-time job at a store or the electronics plant, Bev put on a good barbecue for him—family mostly. He was set back home filling up on her suppers and Solemn’s company before basic training started.
    â€œWell, it is all over, isn’t it?” Bev asked. Bev saw Stephanie’s confidence and liked it, assumed it as her own, took its nice effect on her.
    â€œIt is all over,” she repeated. “Good times just beginning. Cicadas on the way, next summer. Good luck.”
    â€œI suppose.” Stephanie smiled.
    She wondered how much the woman would offer to pay, or if she would even offer. Offer was payment enough. Although she planned to address her husband, in some way, on bleeding too much cash in Nashville. It started off as Percy Priest Lake catfishing trips, then derailed into feeding mechanical bulls and tan-going slots. The strait was far from dire. But still, Stephanie preferred surplus. The women skated around the subject of pay until the unspoken agreement became there would be none.
    Summer was ending. The lightning bugs came and left earlier by this time. Solemn walked on away from the table without asking or telling. Stephanie saw Solemn spot a lightning bug to run after. It hadn’t even lit up yet. Stephanie only saw what it was once Solemn caught it into her hands.
    â€œNo one home anymore around time Solemn get off of school,” Bev continued. “And I might have to go to town with my husband some days to catch the right bus to the college. My husband sell stuff. He gotta drive our car into Kosciusko every day to see if the electronics plant need him. Gotta be there early. It’s been going all right these past few years. Guess more people needing TVs and radios and stereos and DVDs these days. World’s changing so fast…”
    â€œSure is,” Stephanie said. “And yes, you wanna know if I could carry Solemn on to school when I go into town with my daughter and keep her after?”
    â€œThat would be so helpful,” Bev said. “I would pay you.”
    Bev stared at Stephanie’s deviled eggs for quite some time. She chose one to try. She popped it into her mouth for one whole bite and swallow. She squished her eyes together and grabbed another. They were impressive.
    â€œOh my goodness, these are so good. Taste different from ones I know.”
    â€œI put a little sugar and dill in mine,” Stephanie said.
    â€œWell, I’ll have to try that for myself,” Bev promised. She liked sitting next to the side of a trailer nearly half glass, a special door to special drapes to see how especially wide it was all inside. The new wood cabinets, not Formica or aluminum or tin even, in some she had heard. A few air conditioners. The sinks and faucets looked bright silver, not screeched and water-stained pink. The soft parquet floors had a grand design, like from a museum she had seen pictures of in school. She poured them some sassy water. Her fingers tipped a fair amount of lemon and lime bits and mint in both their glasses.
    â€œIt’s no problem for me to take Solemn along, Mrs. Redvine,” Stephanie told her. “I’m going that way anyway. I just don’t know exactly where y’all are around here. Sometimes, you know, the mornings can be a bit rushed, and my daughter don’t want to go, and I’m trying to wash the breakfast dishes and it gets kinda busy, so…”
    â€œOh no, no, no,” Bev