plate full of food in front of Carry. âYou got a handshake in you, or are you too busy shoveling all that grub into your mug?â
My mouth still full, I set down my fork and took his outstretched hand. This was new. Normally Uncle Henry asked me for hugs and kisses too, but I guess he thought I was getting too old for such things. I felt his grip tighten and I tightened mine back. I hoped he wouldnât tighten again, because I was pretty much putting all the strength I had into mine.
He didnât. âThatâs a firm grip you got there, boy,â he said. âYouâre gettinâ strong. Youâre turninâ into quite a young man now, ainât ya?â
Swallowing, I nodded and just beamed back. Like I said, Uncle Henry was good people. He always made me feel good, anyway.
My mother had her oven mitt back on and had brought the iron skillet of sizzling potatoes back to the table. âPull up a chair, Hank. I made lots.â
Uncle Henry waved the idea away. âI ate before I came. You guys go ahead and eat. Just pretend Iâm not here.â He sat down anyway and added, âOf course, Iâll have a cup of that coffee, if you donât mind.â
My mother set down a mug on the table in front of him and filled it. âWell, Iâd say itâs pretty near impossible to pretend you ainât here,â she said, smiling. She removed her apron and brought her own plate to the table. With one of his big arms set upon the table, Uncle Henry lifted his cup and sipped his coffee. Outside, the rain continued to fall. It wasnât near as bad as last night, but a dull gray shone in from the window. It mixed with the brown from the shade over the light hanging above the table, casting the black-and-white checkered floor in an ugly dirt color. A cold hollowness fell over me and I remembered lying awake in bed last night, waiting for my mother to return from the hunt for Mary Ann Dailey.
âIs everyone gonna go back out and look for Mary Ann again after church, Mom?â I asked.
Putting down her fork, she wiped her mouth, glancing at Uncle Henry. âIâm not sure yet, honey. I need to go to the station and meet with Ethan and Chris. You guys are gonna come back here and stay with Uncle Henry.â
I nodded. Carry said nothing. She was sitting with her elbow on the table, her head propped up on one hand while she watched the other poke her food with her fork. Her knotted hair hung forward over her shoulder, practically falling into her plate. I could tell my mother was on the verge of giving her heck for not sitting properly, but she took one look at the scowl on Carryâs face and decided to just ignore her instead.
âMom?â I asked.
âYes, honey?â
âDid you know the Vickers used to have another girl? Someone named Ruby Mae?â
Once again, my mother looked at Uncle Henry, but this time the look was different. Almost like she was scared or something. I hoped I didnât say anythinâ wrong.
âWhoââ She started speaking, but her voice broke. After a second she tried again. âWho told you about Ruby Mae Vickers?â
âMr. Garner,â I said. âHe said somebody took her away and then they killed her and put her on the hill underneath that big willow on the other side of Skeeter Swamp. You donât reckon somebody took Mary Ann like that, do you?â
My mother very slowly swallowed, put down her knife and fork, and wiped her mouth. She looked at Uncle Henry, but he just turned his head away. I kept going back and forth between them, trying to figure out why she wasnât answering my question. Then my mother brought her elbow up and put her hand in front of her mouth while her eyes dropped to the table, as though she were thinking. I was about to ask if I said something wrong when she said, âI donât know where Mary Ann is yet, honey, but Iâll find her.â She got up from the