Melody Read online

  "Is this what you want to do for the rest of your

  life?" I asked him.

  He nodded.

  "You don't want to go to college?"

  "My college is out there," he said pointing

  toward the ocean with the fork.

  "There's more to life than just fishing and

  sailing, and there are wonderful places to visit on

  land, wonderful things to see."

  "I see enough here."

  "I never saw someone so young act so--" "What?" he asked quickly. I swallowed back

  the words and chose less painful ones. "Grown up." He nodded.

  "Go on," he said. "If you want to call me

  Grandpa, too, you can. I don't care."

  "You're nothing like a grandpa."

  He looked at me curiously for a moment. I felt,

  since he was being honest, I should be. "But you're

  too fixed in your thinking for someone your age. You

  should have a more open mind about things." "Sure," he said. "And be willing to smoke dope

  and drink and waste my time just like those other

  jerks in school."

  "They're not all jerks, are they?"

  "Most are."

  "You can be pretty infuriating," I told him. He shrugged and began serving the fish. "I don't

  bother anyone and just ask they don't bother me," he

  said. "Let's eat."

  He made sure May had her meal first. The way

  he took care of her, saw to her needs and happiness,

  softened my frustration and anger toward him. "How hard was it for May when Laura died?" I asked him as we sat at the picnic table and began our

  meal. "Real hard," he said.

  "Poor thing. To have such a tragedy on top of

  her handicap."

  "She does fine," he said angrily.

  "No one is saying she doesn't, Cary. You don't

  have to jump down my throat. There is such a thing as

  being too protective, you know."

  "You can never be too protective," he replied.

  "Once you go out there, you'll understand." He

  nodded toward the ocean.

  "When am I going out there?" He was silent.

  "I've never been on a sailboat. Daddy used to take us

  to the beach, but Mommy hated boats so we just went

  swimming and got suntans."

  "What a bunch of tourists," he quipped. "You shouldn't make fun of the tourists. They

  buy your lobsters, don't they?"

  "And ruin everything, litter the beach, poison

  the water, make fun of us."

  "I think you'd be happy just being a hermit," I

  concluded. It didn't faze him. He shrugged.

  "This is good," I told him after I ate some of the

  fish, but it sounded like a complaint.

  "Thanks," he said without any feeling. "You're welcome," I growled.

  We ate silently, shooting darts at each other

  with our eyes, but when we turned to May we saw her

  staring at us and smiling a wide smile of amusement.

  Cary's eyes shifted to mine. We gazed at each other a

  moment and then we had to laugh.

  It was as if a sheet of ice had cracked and let in

  some warm air. Our conversation lightened up and I

  talked about the scenery. I was taken with the apricot

  glow of the sunset as we looked out over the ocean. I

  hadn't realized how beautiful the ocean could be. That

  pleased him and he revealed that when he was a little

  boy he and Laura would lie on their backs in their

  father's rowboat at dusk and watch the sky change

  colors.

  "It seemed magical," he said.

  "It is."

  There was real warmth in his eyes and I thought

  the girls were right: he was good looking when he

  wanted to be. Suddenly, though, he became selfconscious and quickly reverted to his serious, hard

  look. However, after dinner when I helped him clean

  up, he surprised me by suggesting we walk into town

  with May for some frozen custard.

  "And see what damage the outsiders are doing,"

  he added.

  "And what money they're leaving with the local

  merchants," I added. He hid his smile, but I caught it. For the first time, when we walked with May,

  he allowed her to hold both our hands. Cary led us a

  different way that took us past high grass, bushes, and

  scrub oak trees. I heard the peepers in the marsh. "Theresa and her brother and sisters and her

  father live down there," he pointed when we turned a

  corner.

  I gazed at a street that wound east. The houses

  were small and the grass in their yards was spotty and

  rough. Closer to the town, the houses were nicer, with

  real lawns and flowers, like yellow tea roses in a bed

  of Queen Anne's lace, dark purple iris, and

  hydrangeas.

  The Cape was truly amazing. Toward the

  ocean, there were rolls and rolls of sand that looked as

  dry and sparse as any desert, but a short distance away

  were oak trees, blueberry bushes, red maple trees, and

  houses with lawns full of crocus clusters, emperor

  tulips, and sprawling lilac bushes. It seemed like two

  different worlds. Cary said there was often two kinds

  of weather. It could be stormy on the east with the sun

  shining brightly on the west.

  Perhaps the differences in the land explained

  the differences in the people, I thought, some hard,

  frugal, with religious ideas carved in stone; other

  carefree, impulsive, jolly, and hungry for fun and

  excitement. Some lived to work and some worked just

  enough to live.

  At night the little town was exciting, especially

  with all the people, the music from the bars and

  restaurants, the carloads of tourists yelling to each

  other, the crowds down at the dock. My eyes went

  everywhere. He bought May her frozen custard and

  asked me if I wanted one, too. I did. He got himself

  one as well.

  May wanted to go to the dock and watch the

  deep-sea fishermen try to entice the tourists to hire

  them. I had never been in a real tourist town at night

  before, and was taken with all the lights, and the way

  store owners and desert tour operators barked at the

  people, tempting, cajoling, practically begging for

  their business.

  "I hate those desert tours," Cary remarked when

  a jeep load rolled by. "Once, a couple of jeeps pulled

  up behind our house and the guide pointed to my

  mother and Laura, describing them as native

  fishermen's women."

  "So, that's what your mother is, right?" "She's not a freak for tourists to gape at, no," he

  said, "and Laura certainly was not. How would they

  like a sightseeing bus coming around to their

  backyards and having people gape at them while they

  did their housework?"

  I nodded, understanding some of his anger. "You're right. That isn't nice." He looked appreciative, but quickly checked his smile and gazed at

  May.

  "Better get back," he said. "May's sleepy." When we returned to the house, Uncle Jacob

  was entertaining his fisherman friend in the living

  room while their wives chatted in the kitchen. We

  went directly upstairs. May went to sleep quickly. "Thanks for the custard and the walk," I told

  Cary in th
e hallway.

  He stared at me a moment.

  "Are you very tired?"

  "No, not very," I said.

  "Want to see something special?"

  "Sure."

  "Come on," he said, leading the way down the

  stairs. We stepped quietly through the house, but

  Uncle Jacob heard us and came to the living room

  doorway.

  "Where "Where you going now, son?" he

  asked.

  "Just going to check the bog," Cary replied. Uncle Jacob looked at me, his eyes growing

  smaller before he nodded softly and returned to his

  company.

  Cary said nothing. He hurried out of the house

  and led me over the grounds to the hill. When we

  reached the top, he paused and we gazed at the bog.

  The moonlight played tricks with the blossoms. They

  dazzled like jewels in the night.

  "What do you think?" he asked.

  "It's beautiful."

  "I thought you might like it."

  To our right the ocean roared in the darkness. I

  embraced myself.

  "Cold?"

  "A little," I admitted.

  "I bet you really wanted to go to that beach

  party," he said.

  "I've never been to one."

  "All they do is smoke dope or drink around the

  fire.

  Some of them go off into the darkness, of

  course."

  "Don't you want a girlfriend some day?" I asked

  him.

  "When I find someone sensible, I'll speak to

  her," he replied.

  "No one's sensible?"

  "And pretty, too," he admitted. He stood there

  with his hands in his pockets, kicking the sand and

  occasionally glancing at me and then at the ocean.

  "What about you?"

  "What?"

  "Did you have a boyfriend back in West

  Virginia?"

  "For a while I was going steady, but after

  Daddy died. . . I stopped going to school dances and

  things."

  "Yeah, I didn't want to do anything after Laura

  died. I didn't want to work or ever go back to school." "That was the only good thing about us leaving

  Sewell," I told him. "Not having to go to the places

  Daddy and I used to go to anymore, not having to

  look at the coal miners and wait for him to come

  home."

  He thought a moment. "I couldn't leave here

  ever." "Most of the young people I knew were always

  talking about getting away from home someday." "Not me. This is where I belong, where I was

  meant to be. I got saltwater in my blood."

  I laughed.

  "I probably won't graduate anyway," he added. "Why not?"

  "Doing pretty bad in English."

  "Badly."

  "What?"

  "You're doing badly, not bad."

  "See what I mean?"

  "Maybe I can help you. I'm a very good English

  student."

  "It's probably too late. If I don't pass the final--

  "

  "Then you'll pass it," I told him. "I'll help you

  every night. Okay?"

  "I don't know. I don't know if I even care." "You've got to care! Besides, I'm sure you'll do

  well if you try."

  He smiled.

  "I understand Laura was a very good student.

  Did she help you?"

  He looked away instead of answering and then

  he turned back and started down the hill. "Let's go

  back to the house."

  I followed him. When we entered the house

  again, Uncle Jacob asked Cary in to talk about the

  lobster business with them. I told them good night and

  went to my room to read. A little while later I heard

  Cary go up to his attic hideaway. I listened to him

  scuffle about and then all grew quiet, but for the

  muffled voices of Uncle Jacob, Aunt Sara, and their

  friends below.

  My eyelids felt heavy. I dozed off, woke up,

  went to the bathroom, returned, and dressed for bed.

  After I put the lights out, I gazed out the window and

  saw the moon walk on the ocean. How beautiful. Had

  Laura looked out this window and been thrilled by it?

  What was she really like? I had Aunt Sara's constant

  descriptions, comparisons, and remarks, but somehow

  I thought there was more to her daughter than she

  knew.

  Cary knew, I thought. She had been his twin,

  but he was afraid or unwilling to talk about her. It

  would take time, but more importantly, it would take

  trust. I wondered if I could ever get him to trust me

  with the secrets of his heart. I knew he had secrets

  buried deeply.

  I closed my eyes and lay back on my pillow and thought about Mommy. Where was she tonight? I swallowed back my tears and pressed for sleep to

  keep myself from thinking sad thoughts. Was that what Cary did every night?

  10

  A Cocoon of Lies

  .

  The next morning, Sunday, we went to church

  then came home and prepared for our visit to my grandparents as if we were going to visit royalty. Aunt Sara explained that everyone had to wear his and her best clothes and be prim and proper.

  She paraded through the room explaining what I was to wear and how I was to wear my hair and carry myself. "Olivia doesn't like women to have their hair loose and down. She says it makes them look like witches. Use the bobby pins and combs to wrap your hair neatly. And no makeup, not even lipstick. You can wear the charm bracelet, of course, but rings and necklaces, and especially earrings don't belong on young ladies, she says."

  "Is that what you think, too, Aunt Sara?" "What I think doesn't matter when we go to Samuel and Olivia's home," she replied. "Jacob's pleased when they're pleased."

  "And you? When are you pleased?"

  Aunt Sara paused and gazed at me as if I had asked the most ridiculous question. "I'm pleased when Jacob's pleased, as any wife would be."

  "I hope that my husband will want me to be happy, too, and care about my feelings as much or more than he cares about his own. My daddy was like that."

  "Oh dear, don't say things like that in front of Jacob. Especially not today," she warned.

  "Maybe I shouldn't go along," I said. Alarm sprang to her eyes.

  "You have to go! It's Sunday. We always go to Samuel and Olivia's for Sunday brunch," she said. "Why, Laura used to look forward to going. Olivia always has wonderful things to eat. Laura loved the tiny cakes with frosting and jelly in the center, and Samuel always gave her a crisp five-dollar bill when we left. She was the apple of his eye. She was. . ." She paused to take a deep breath.

  For a moment she seemed locked in a daze. Then her eyes snapped closed and open and she spun around. "Try to keep your shoulders back and your head up when you walk. Olivia hates the way young people slouch today. She's always saying posture shows character and embellishes good health."

  "No one's ever said I slouch."

  "No, you don't, but just be more attentive to it. Well, I must see about May."

  I took a deep breath and rose, feeling even more nervous this morning than the day I had first arrived. When I finally thought myself dressed well enough and looking somewhat the way Aunt Sara wanted me to, I descended the stairs to find the family waiting in the living room. Everyone was still dressed in their church clothes.

  Uncle Jacob wore a dark blue suit and tie and Cary wore a light blue sports jacket, tie, and slacks. His shoes were spit shined. May looked sweet in her pink cotton dress with her hair tied in a pink ribbon.
She wore black patent leather mary janes. Aunt Sara had on a dark blue, high-necked dress with a belt at the waist. As usual she wore no makeup and only the locket for jewelry. Her hair was pulled back in a severe bun and held there with a bone-white comb.

  They all stared at me when I entered. I was being inspected. 1 waited for approval. Cary's eyes widened and then went darker before he looked away. I was sure it was because I was wearing another one of Laura's dresses--this time a pretty cream-colored one. I couldn't wait for my own things to arrive.

  "Well, she looks very nice, doesn't she, Jacob?" Aunt Sara asked meekly.

  "Aye," he said reluctantly. "Did you talk to her about her behavior?"

  "Not yet," she said.

  "What have I done now?" I asked.

  "It's not what you've done. It's what you might do," Uncle Jacob remarked. Then he turned to Sara. "Well, do it and then come out," he said rising. He nodded at Cary, who got up quickly, took May's hand, and left.

  "Just sit a moment, dear," Aunt Sara said. "There are a few other things you must remember."

  "What other things?" I sat on the settee.

  "Olivia, your grandmother, is very particular about how children behave in her home."

  "I'm not a child," I said. "I'm nearly sixteen."

  "Oh, I know, but until you're married yourself, she thinks of you as a child." Aunt Sara obviously spoke from her own experience.

  She stood before me like a teacher in school. "Most important, speak only when you are spoken to. Olivia thinks it's rude for a young person to demand answers from adults or give an opinion without being asked to do so. And especially, never, never interrupt When someone else is speaking."

  "I don't," I said.

  "Good. Remember to say please and thank you and never sit with your legs apart. Put your hands in your lap. At the table be sure to bring the spoon and the fork to your mouth and not vice versa, and remember to keep only one elbow at a time on the table. Always dab your lips with your napkin after you put something in your mouth. Sit with your back straight and don't stare at people," she recited as if she had memorized some etiquette book. "Do you understand everything?"

  I nodded.

  "It doesn't sound as if I'm going to enjoy myself very much," I muttered. She went white.

  "Oh dear, never say such a thing. Please! Keep such thoughts under lock and key."

  "Don't worry, Aunt Sara, I've never

  embarrassed my parents. I won't embarrass you." I rose, my legs very reluctant, and left the house. Cary and May waited in the rear of the car. I got in beside May.

  "How far away is it?" I asked Cary softly.

  "About twenty minutes."

  My teeth were actually chattering in anticipation of Grandma Olivia's disapproval and rejection. But why? I was finally going to meet my father's parents, my real grandparents. I should have been excited. All the grand-parents I ever heard of loved their grandchildren dearly.