A Life of Bright Ideas Read online

  “We’re gonna make a fortune,” Winnalee told me as we left the girls, me pushing Evalee in her stroller. I grinned. Not because of her promise, but at the way she was moving, strolling like she was on a fashion runway, and stopping now and then to pause and strike poses that looked straight out of the Montgomery Ward catalog. And yeah, lots of people looked, but I don’t think it dawned on Winnalee that at least some of those looks came from guys who remembered her from the cage at the Purple Haze (or, worse yet, from the back of her van), judging by the amount of them who gawked and grinned, while their girlfriends or wives crossed their arms, or swatted them on the cuff.

  Tommy rang the bell near the house to let everyone know it was time to dish up, and as I was filling plates for me and Winnalee, Rita Dayne and Jesse’s dad came to the table. “Hi, Evy, don’t you look pretty today. Did you change your hair?” Just seeing the shape of Rita’s smile—so like Jesse’s—made me get that carved-like-a-pumpkin feeling inside. She pumped me for any news I might have about Jesse, because she hadn’t heard from him in at least three weeks. “Oh, he’s been busy,” Winnalee said, her tone sarcastic. “Taking care of some old business. Isn’t that right, Button?”

  I assured Rita that Jesse was fine, then quickly pointed to a casserole. “You want some of this, Winnalee?”

  “Ew,” she said. “There’s celery in there.”

  “I’m sure Jesse told you that he’s coming home on leave soon?” Rita said.

  I wanted to pretend he did—and maybe he had in the letter I’d torn—but instead, I asked when.

  “Soon,” Rita said. “I’m not sure of the date, though. That’s why I’m so eager to hear from him. So I can put together a little party. But you know men. Maybe he’ll just pop in.”

  The Daynes moved down the table, and I worked hard to steady my hands and control the dread I felt at the thought of running into Jesse while he was on leave. Or worse yet, being at a party like this one, and him singling me out so he could get advice on how to tell his parents about his older woman.

  “Reece, Reece, come eat,” Aunt Verdella called over to where Dad sat, holding only a beer while the men around him ate from overflowing plates.

  Freeda set her half-finished plate down. “Why don’t you give me the baby so you can eat,” she said to Winnalee. Freeda drifted off to the shade where we’d left Evalee’s stroller near two lawn chairs, and only then did Dad start heading toward the table. “Oh dear,” Aunt Verdella said, her eyes darting from Freeda to Dad. “There’s something up with those two,” she whispered to me. “Freeda was quiet while we canned yesterday, then she headed over there, late. She went straight upstairs when she got back, and she’s not been herself all day.”

  “Hi, Uncle Reece,” Winnalee called. “Have some of this Jell-O stuff. It’s really good.”

  While Aunt Verdella was tapping spoonfuls of food over Dad’s plate, Linda and Al came up to the table with empty paper plates, their napkins flapping. “I found work,” Al told Dad. “A plumbing outfit down in Green Bay. I start next week. Crissakes, will be nice to bring in a check again.”

  Dad asked Al about his new job, and Aunt Verdella turned to Linda to ask the question screaming in my head. “What about the shop?”

  Linda glanced at me under hooded eyes, then turned her attention to the potato salad. “Well, I don’t want to say too much. I want to talk to Hazel and Marge first. And of course, Evy.”

  Linda scooted around Al, pretending a dish farther down the table had caught her eye. I looked up and grabbed a flap of skin in my mouth. Not biting, just holding on to it like a security blanket. I’d been at the party less than an hour, and already I’d gotten two bits of news that made me want to run off by myself.

  Al followed Linda, and Dad stopped Aunt Verdella when the plate he was holding threatened to collapse from the weight. “Why don’t you eat over by Freeda, Reece? She looks like she could use a little company.” Dad looked over to Freeda, who bounced Evalee on her bare knee.

  “Reece,” Melvin Thompson called. He hurried to the table to ask Dad about some racket he’d heard under his hood on the way over. “We’ll look at it after we eat,” Dad told him, and Aunt Verdella sighed.

  “Are you worried about the shop, honey?” Aunt Verdella asked me after the guys wandered off. I shook my head—another lie. “Linda must have something planned. Maybe Hazel’s taking it over. You just put it out of your head for now and have a good time.” I nodded.

  I didn’t expect Tommy and Craig to join us as we carried our plates toward Freeda, but they did. Freeda put Evalee in her stroller, plugged her mouth with her pacifier, and excused herself to go talk with June.

  Winnalee was cute, the way she tried to act all proper and shy around Craig. Dabbing at her mouth with her paper napkin, and talking a lot softer than she normally did. I could feel her glancing at me often, and when I sipped my lemonade instead of chugging it, she did the same. “What’s up with you, Winnalee?” Tommy asked.

  “What?” she asked. There was an edge to that what, and I could tell Winnalee was struggling to file her voice soft again.

  Tommy grinned. “The girlie act,” he said. He gave a slight nod toward Craig, who was watching Brody flirt with some blonde who looked like Amy, but wasn’t. Winnalee reached out and jabbed Tommy in the thigh, then smiled sweetly at Craig when he turned.

  Across the yard, Boohoo wrestled with Rupert, then the two of them took off around the back of the house. Dad dropped his plate in the trash barrel and followed Melvin out of the yard.

  “I’m gonna bring Craig to fly over your house while he’s still steering like a five-year-old on a two-wheeler,” Tommy teased. I turned to see who he was talking to, me or Winnalee.

  “Well, you’d better warn Button first,” Winnalee said, “so she knows when to duck … or hightail it to Fossard’s bomb shelter.”

  Tommy laughed, like it was absurd that I’d duck or run.

  “She did, you know. She ducked! It was so funny …”

  Tommy looked at me, his face reddening from a hearty laugh. “You really ducked?”

  “She did. Just like this …” Winnalee set her plate on the grass and got up to reenact the scene.

  “Okay, okay … so we were in the house and Boohoo shouted at us to come see—right after he beat me up with a broom, but wrong story. Anyway, Boohoo heard your plane. So I looked up …” Winnalee looked up, capping her hands above her eyes, even though the sun was so muted by fog that she didn’t need to. “So me and Boohoo started going crazy, jumping up and down and shouting …” Winnalee reenacted that, too, being every bit as loud and boisterous as she was then.

  Brody and two other guys I remembered from someplace—probably the Purple Haze—were drinking beer a few yards away, and looked over.

  “So Tommy tipped the nose of the plane down”—she used her hand to demonstrate—“and it was coming right at us. Boohoo and me were all excited, and Button … oh my God. I turned and there she was …”

  Winnalee squatted, oblivious to the fact that her dress had crawled up her legs, and that her knees were spread to keep her balance.

  Brody and the other guys were standing right in eye-shot, and they noticed her creeping dress.

  “Winnalee …,” I hissed, to alert her.

  “I’m not making fun of you, Button,” she said in a rush. “It was sweet.” Then without missing a beat, she resumed her story.

  “And zoommmmm, over the house the Piper went, and … and …”

  “Winnalee,” I hissed again, louder this time, because I could hear Brody and the other guys snickering. I knew Craig could, too, because he was watching them.

  “I looked, and there was Button, crouched down, and she’s got her arms wrapped around her head like this …” Winnalee was laughing so hard now that she was weak. She covered her head as I had, then put her hand on the grass to steady herself. “Like what?” she chortled. “If the Piper crashed on her, her head would be the only thing that was gonna get donked?
And her arms could save her if that was the case, anyway?”

  Winnalee was laughing so hard that she toppled over onto the grass, holding her stomach and rolling side to side as she laughed. Tommy gave me a gentle shove with his shoulder, as he laughed every bit as hard as Winnalee.

  I saw the three shadows stretch over the grass. “Look at that, Pete. Winnalee felt so sorry for us, missing out on the cage show at the Purple Haze, that she decided to give us our thrills with a little picnic peep show.” The three of them chuckled, Brody, the loudest, of course.

  Winnalee sat up, only now realizing that her legs were spread, her dress hiked to her underpants (thank God she was wearing them!). She sprung to her feet.

  “Hey,” Brody said, looking at Tommy now. “We’re talking about going up to the Willow Flowage tomorrow. Now that your haying’s done, you guys wanna come?”

  Winnalee’s nostrils were huffing. “Just ignore him,” I muttered, even though I knew she wouldn’t. Evalee started to fuss and I stood up to lift her from her stroller. Winnalee shoved aside the guy to Brody’s left, and butted her face up to his.

  “What did you say about me?” Winnalee asked, her jaw so tight that her lips hardly moved.

  “What?” Brody asked innocently, even though he was smirking.

  Winnalee forgot all about being a lady then. She jutted her chin out like Boohoo did when he was mad. “Listen, you schmuck. I was telling a story. And not to you, so you can just keep your beer-buggy, bastard eyes to yourself. And that goes for your two slimy friends, too.”

  He turned to the guys and grinned. “Must have been a story about the big boy here,” Brody said, jabbing his chest with his thumb. “She did look like she was enjoying herself, didn’t she?”

  “Come on, Bishop,” Tommy said. “Knock it off.”

  “Listen, asshole,” Winnalee spat. She paused, glanced over at Evalee, whom I was nervously bouncing on my hip, and hurried to clamp her hands over the sides of Evalee’s bonnet. She held her hands there as she snipped, “I’m turning over a new leaf because I’ve got a kid to raise—you should try it—and I’d appreciate it if you’d stay out of my goddamn face with your smutty talk! You’re nothing but a useless asshole, Bishop, and I don’t want you talking to me, or about me ever again. Got it?”

  “She was just as sassy in the sack,” he said, nudging the guy to his right, who was gawking around, flushed-faced.

  Winnalee let go of Evalee’s head. “Cover her ears,” she ordered me, then she charged forward. “You son of a bitch!” she shouted. Tommy got to his feet. But before either of the guys could say or do a thing, Winnalee hauled off and slapped Brody across the face. So hard that his head jerked. A raspberry-colored handprint instantly stained his cheek.

  Brody’s other cheek reddened to match it, and his lips pulled tight. He didn’t have a chance to say or do a thing, though, because Tommy took his arm and backed him up. “Let it go, Bishop. You had that one coming.”

  Winnalee was so mad she was panting. She glared at the few who were gawking, and they quickly turned away. Then she looked at Evalee and brushed her hands together. “That, little girl,” she said, “is how you treat disrespectful men.”

  Her pride drooped some, though, when she realized that Craig was staring at her like she’d suddenly grown seven heads, and all of them pea-sized and sporting cocked eyes. Winnalee’s shoulders dropped. “Oh, who am I trying to kid,” she muttered to herself.

  She looked back at Craig. “All that proper stuff you saw me doin’ a bit ago? Wiping my mug, and talking all soft and sweet—that isn’t me. That’s Button. I’m loud lots of times, and scrappy when I need to be. And yeah, I was into free love and all that shit, and I danced at the Haze to make a dime …” She glanced over and I moved my hand up to Evalee’s ears again, “and I’m still all for love, but it’s not gonna be so free anymore. That’s who I am, and if you don’t like girls like that, that’s okay by me, but it’s who I am.”

  Craig stared at her a minute, then he smiled. He picked her plate up and held it out. “Your Jell-O’s getting runny.”

  Winnalee smoothed the back of her dress and sat down like nothing had happened.

  I once heard Fanny Tilman tell Aunt Verdella, “A person would be wise to watch how long and hard they laugh. Because you can bet that while you’re carrying on, something bad is sneaking up to bite you from behind.”

  The four of us were joking around when Ada asked Tommy to bring out more beer and pop. Craig offered to give him a hand, but Tommy decided I should. We were almost to the shed—still laughing—when something above my head caught his attention. His eyes squinted. I turned to look, and saw Boohoo on his knees at the edge of the yard, next to the liquid propane tank. His ball of twine was on the ground, and he was wrapping the string around something. Rupert was standing a ways off, backing up, his fists clenched at his sides as he watched Boohoo. “Boohoo, don’t!” Tommy shouted. Rupert took off running.

  “Run, Boohoo, run!” Tommy shouted as he zipped past me, and sprinted toward him.

  It all happened so fast I hardly knew what was happening: Boohoo jumping to his feet and batting the air, screaming like he was on fire.

  When I got close enough, I saw the hornets’ nest knocked to the grass, twine half draped around it, and hornets swirling Boohoo.

  Tommy snatched Boohoo on the run and dropped him at the corner of the house. He started tearing at his clothes, while Boohoo flailed his arms and danced in place, screaming. Tears were streaming down Boohoo’s cheeks, and his eyes were stretched wide with pain and terror.

  Maybe Rupert told the others, or maybe they just heard the commotion. Either way, they came swarming into the backyard, Aunt Verdella out front, shouting, “Oh my Lord, what happened? What happened?”

  Tommy picked Boohoo up, naked but for his underwear and socks. He moved him farther from the few stray hornets that still spun above us. I saw two stings on Tommy’s hand, and somewhere on my arm, I felt one, too.

  Boohoo was too heavy for Aunt Verdella to hold, so she slid him down her belly to stand, her arms hugging him close. “Oh, honey, my poor baby!” she cried as Boohoo bounced and bawled. She looked horrified when she turned to June. “Oh Lord, look how many times he was stung!”

  Uncle Rudy reached us and knelt down on one knee. “You okay, little buddy?”

  Everyone was talking at once then, loudly, because Boohoo would not be consoled. His reddened face swished across Aunt Verdella’s belly and he looked up at Uncle Rudy, then at me, his eyes pleading for us to make the pain go away. “It’s okay. It’s okay. They’re gone now, honey,” Aunt Verdella kept repeating. My hand, shaky with fear, fluttered at my mouth.

  I didn’t know who was saying what, but I heard each comment:

  “I told him to leave the nest alone, Mom.”

  “You’ve got to scrape out the stingers.”

  “Raw onions on the sting helps.”

  “You kids get in the front of the yard. No one in the back.”

  “He’s teetering. That’s not a good sign. Son, are you dizzy?”

  “My brother almost died from one bee sting.”

  Seconds later, Uncle Rudy had to catch Boohoo’s shoulder because he was staggering. Tears were streaming down Boohoo’s face as Rudy wrapped his hand around his skinny neck. “A bee’s in my throat,” he told Uncle Rudy. His voice sounded thick.

  “It feels like something’s in your throat, honey?” I think it was Sally Thompson asking.

  Aunt Verdella was gently patting Boohoo, and she leaned over to examine the big patches of plumping skin outlined in red that were starting to form on his back.

  “Hives. He’s getting hives, and his throat’s closing,” Sally Thompson said. “Get him to the hospital. He’s having a reaction.”

  Uncle Rudy scooped Boohoo up. “Rudy, with that detour,” some guy behind him said, “it’s gonna take a good twenty, twenty-five minutes to get him there. Maybe thirty.”

  “You aren’t going to have tha
t long,” Sally said, and someone else agreed. I covered my ears, as if their words were curse words I was too innocent to hear.

  I looked up and saw Winnalee shoving her way between shoulders. “Fly him there, Tommy! You can get him there faster in the Piper, right?” The crowd stilled. Waited.

  Freeda was behind Winnalee, Evalee in her arms. “Do it, Tommy. Do it!”

  Suddenly, it was like my panic was gripping the limbs of time, slowing it down so it could hardly budge. Tommy’s head moved in slow motion, and his Adam’s apple rose with the pace of a rising sun. Boohoo said something, and I didn’t know if he was speaking gibberish, or if my ears were only hearing it that way.

  And then, just like that, things sped up. Raced at breakneck speed even.

  “Craig, start the Piper!” Tommy shouted.

  Craig took off, and Tommy snatched Boohoo from Uncle Rudy and followed him, Boohoo’s limbs and head bouncing with every stride.

  “This haze …,” someone said, and then Ada’s voice: “My God. Be careful, Tommy!”

  “I gassed it this morning,” Tommy shouted up ahead, apparently because Craig had yelled back to ask. “Thirty gallons.”

  We moved like a swarm, Winnalee and I holding hands, Freeda running alongside us, Aunt Verdella moving faster than I ever thought she could, our neighbors close at our backs. “I’m going with Tommy!” Aunt Verdella shouted.

  We gathered around the plane, the propellers a humming blur, the engine trembling the wings. My God! My God! I screamed inside as Tommy passed Boohoo to Uncle Rudy, then hurried to the pilot’s side. Craig and Melvin Thompson helped Aunt Verdella into the plane.

  “Hurry! Come on, hurry!” Tommy shouted as he slammed his door. I’d never touched an airplane before, and I cringed to feel the sides so flimsy that it seemed that if I leaned into it a bit harder, I’d dent it.