"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 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.