and I wished for a glass, although I would have drunk straight from the bottle.
Percy, in a cloud of cigar smoke, came out of the office. He jerked me up. I crossed the floor with amazing ease, floated out into the night, and left the Reverend standing there with his hat in his hand.
“Get in the car.”
He climbed in, too, and the Ford coughed. We moved onto the road and away from the place and its hazy lights.
After a while I pressed my legs together and said, “Percy, I gotta pee.”
But he looked straight ahead, and his mouth was set. I sighed and leaned into the corner, my face to the door. I was in that swampy place where nothing mattered.
Pain roused me. “Let’s go back, honey, and I’ll do you ’round the floor.” I giggled, but it came out a no-meaning sound. My belly hurt, and I was thinking it might just be my time. But that was too much to worry about. Whatever was going to happen would happen.
The mountain road was thick and black like even the moon was hiding. Inside the Ford, I didn’t open my eyes. I knew the only thing to be seen was Percy all whip-starched and pissed, and the little white lights winking on the dashboard. I did not want him to take me home. I began to think of ways to make him pull me into his arms.
“Lover—” I said, but the word came out like I’d only dreamed it, and anyway, he was already stopping in the middle of the road. He opened the door and gave me a shove, and I rolled out, landing with the gravel sharp under my shoulder, the blue se-quined dress ripping beneath me. He threw the bottle out, too. I heard it shatter, and when I opened my eyes, glass and blue sequins twinkled together like stars that had fallen on this side of the road.
“You’re white trash, Olivia,” Percy said, hunched over the wheel. “Just like your mama.”
I heard the Ford putting away, rattling on the bridge below, and I laid my head on the sand and waited for Ida to come down the steps and find me.
Wolves howled, high up and far away, my grandpap’s wolves. But my pap had said there was nothing to be afraid of. In fact, it seemed funny, me lying here like a wounded deer. Before long, Ida sure enough came down and laid a hand on my belly, while the gentleman she was entertaining stood off to one side blinking. Ida barked at him, and his thick hands took me up by the heels like I was a hog to be slaughtered. They hauled me in with Ida grunting and kicking open the door, and they carried me through the grocery and put me down in the middle of the big poster bed. Ida drew back her arm and slapped me good. Then again, without missing a beat.
She rolled me over to unfasten the blue frock and pulled it down past my underdrawers, but something like syrup was flowing from me, and the pain had gotten all wild and wrong.
“Go on and fetch Doc Pritchett,” she said to the man. And again, “Goddamit, fetch the doc!”
He took up his hat and shuffled out, saying, “But I paid good money, Ida Mae—”
I opened my mouth, and a long thin scream came out, like the highest of high notes on Wing’s golden horn. It shook the window glass and stuck like flypaper to the walls and ceiling. And I knew that what was supposed to be happening, was not happening at all.
20
M y daughter was born before morning, and I named her Pauline because Love Alice had said I would. Maybe I just wanted Love Alice to be right.
I hadn’t the slightest idea what to do with this whippet. For once, Ida let Miz Hanley come to our place. She showed up on a Thursday with her spine starchy and her mouth set. She clucked at how grown-up I was, and how sweet the baby, though I know she’d heard all about me from the Reverend. She showed me how to fasten the baby to my nipple, how to stroke her throat so she’d stop wailing and suck. I was miserable with Pauline in my arms and clamped to one breast. I suspected I should feel something warm, but it was all I could do to spoon oats in her mouth and change her stinking
Percy, in a cloud of cigar smoke, came out of the office. He jerked me up. I crossed the floor with amazing ease, floated out into the night, and left the Reverend standing there with his hat in his hand.
“Get in the car.”
He climbed in, too, and the Ford coughed. We moved onto the road and away from the place and its hazy lights.
After a while I pressed my legs together and said, “Percy, I gotta pee.”
But he looked straight ahead, and his mouth was set. I sighed and leaned into the corner, my face to the door. I was in that swampy place where nothing mattered.
Pain roused me. “Let’s go back, honey, and I’ll do you ’round the floor.” I giggled, but it came out a no-meaning sound. My belly hurt, and I was thinking it might just be my time. But that was too much to worry about. Whatever was going to happen would happen.
The mountain road was thick and black like even the moon was hiding. Inside the Ford, I didn’t open my eyes. I knew the only thing to be seen was Percy all whip-starched and pissed, and the little white lights winking on the dashboard. I did not want him to take me home. I began to think of ways to make him pull me into his arms.
“Lover—” I said, but the word came out like I’d only dreamed it, and anyway, he was already stopping in the middle of the road. He opened the door and gave me a shove, and I rolled out, landing with the gravel sharp under my shoulder, the blue se-quined dress ripping beneath me. He threw the bottle out, too. I heard it shatter, and when I opened my eyes, glass and blue sequins twinkled together like stars that had fallen on this side of the road.
“You’re white trash, Olivia,” Percy said, hunched over the wheel. “Just like your mama.”
I heard the Ford putting away, rattling on the bridge below, and I laid my head on the sand and waited for Ida to come down the steps and find me.
Wolves howled, high up and far away, my grandpap’s wolves. But my pap had said there was nothing to be afraid of. In fact, it seemed funny, me lying here like a wounded deer. Before long, Ida sure enough came down and laid a hand on my belly, while the gentleman she was entertaining stood off to one side blinking. Ida barked at him, and his thick hands took me up by the heels like I was a hog to be slaughtered. They hauled me in with Ida grunting and kicking open the door, and they carried me through the grocery and put me down in the middle of the big poster bed. Ida drew back her arm and slapped me good. Then again, without missing a beat.
She rolled me over to unfasten the blue frock and pulled it down past my underdrawers, but something like syrup was flowing from me, and the pain had gotten all wild and wrong.
“Go on and fetch Doc Pritchett,” she said to the man. And again, “Goddamit, fetch the doc!”
He took up his hat and shuffled out, saying, “But I paid good money, Ida Mae—”
I opened my mouth, and a long thin scream came out, like the highest of high notes on Wing’s golden horn. It shook the window glass and stuck like flypaper to the walls and ceiling. And I knew that what was supposed to be happening, was not happening at all.
20
M y daughter was born before morning, and I named her Pauline because Love Alice had said I would. Maybe I just wanted Love Alice to be right.
I hadn’t the slightest idea what to do with this whippet. For once, Ida let Miz Hanley come to our place. She showed up on a Thursday with her spine starchy and her mouth set. She clucked at how grown-up I was, and how sweet the baby, though I know she’d heard all about me from the Reverend. She showed me how to fasten the baby to my nipple, how to stroke her throat so she’d stop wailing and suck. I was miserable with Pauline in my arms and clamped to one breast. I suspected I should feel something warm, but it was all I could do to spoon oats in her mouth and change her stinking
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