âYou will always have good luck and overcome many hardships.â Ruthâs said, âYou will meet a tall, dark stranger.â I tucked mine into my sock and Ruth gave hers to Mama to keep in her pocketbook. The people who served us had dark narrow eyes and pin-straight black hair. I knew where they were from. China was in Asia.
Someday, I thought, I will go there. Someday.
Three days later, with tears in our eyes, we were back on the train, bound for New Orleans, the red rose box in my lap.
Seven
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S eems like as soon as we finished waving good-bye to Aunt Olivia and Uncle Bill Chapel, we were waving hello to Daddy and Elijah. They were waiting inside the train station with their hats on, grinning. I was so happy to see them.
Ruth and I got in the back of Elijahâs truck with Daddy, curled up beside him like two snakes under a river rock, and fell asleep.
When I woke, I was in my bed, Ruth tucked in at the foot, Daddy standing over me. I thought I was dreaming. Being close to him almost made me forget about California and chopsticks.
He said, âSeems like your mama dun gone off to Hollywood and got a little fulla herself.â
I said, âNo, Mama isnât the only one, weâs all a little fulla ourselves.â
Daddy said with half a smile, âLong as yâall know how to come back down to earth, I ainât bout to worry.â
I replied, âDaddy, ainât isnât no real word. Thatâs what Mrs. Redcotton says.â
Daddy smiled a big smile, a funny look in his eyes, and said, âWell, you tell Mrs. Redcotton that Willie Hopper said thank you very much for educatin my children to speak proper English.â He paused. âI can see now that Leahâs on her way to better things.â
Ruth added, âMe too.â
âDaddy, could we move to California? Itâs real pretty and they donât have no Whites Only signs and no hurricanes neither. Least thatâs what Uncle Bill Chapel said.â I was trying to convince him.
âGot earthquakes though, plenty of those.â Daddy caressed the top of my head.
âWhatâs a earthquake?â Ruth asked.
âThe earth begins to shake and rumble, opens up, swallows up people, cows, horses, whole towns sometimes, then the earth closes back up till the next time ... never no warning.â Daddy was wearing a straight face but part of me thought that he was stretching the truth.
âIs that true, Daddy, or just another tall tale?â I was getting sleepy.
âPart truth, part tale. You gotta decide what is what, Leah. Good night, pretty little gals.â
He tucked us in again and we drifted toward sleep, listening to Mama and Daddy giggle in the next room like they always did when he came home.
July was hot, smelling like too much rain, feeling like a hurricane, thunder in the distance. Lightning struck and lit the sky.
Sunday mass. We said good morning to Sunday and saw Micah and Nathan Shine, their straight-haired, half-Indian mama with them in the pew ahead of us. Ruth and I thought at the same time about hot dogs and started laughing. Daddy looked at us once. Once was enough and we quieted, listening to Father Murphy. The smell of incense filled the church. Candles glowed. The statue of Christ on the cross loomed above us. The altar boys stood beside the priest. Father Murphyâs bug eyes reminded me of a grasshopper. When the time came for communion, I didnât go, only because of what I thought about Nathan Shine and hot dogs. Ruth went anyway. Daddy looked back at me as he made his way to the front of the church. I hung my head.
We walked home slowly. Daddy and Mama were behind us, holding hands. The country ground felt good beneath my feet but I remembered my red rose box, the pink room, patio furniture, marshmallows, and flowers tucked behind one ear.
I asked Daddy if we could get a book.
He said, âWe gotta book, the Bible.â
âI
Learning to Kill: Stories