He’s married. He has children to think of. Nothing good can come of this.
Don’t say that, Mother. I thought it would be all right if I could tell one person. I wanted you particularly to know.
You were wrong, Willa said.
Why did you tell him about teaching and the Depression? And my father. You didn’t have to say all that.
Because things don’t often turn out the way we think they will. I wanted to be sure you knew that.
I know that too well, Mother.
23
WHEN FRANK WAS FIFTEEN and Lorraine eighteen and they were both attending Holt County Union High School, he came into her bedroom late one night. She was in her winter pajamas reading, listening to the radio turned down low. He stood in the doorway looking at her. What’s wrong? she said. He came in and shut the door. Come over here, she said. He went to her bed and stood there. Tell me.
They did it again, he said.
Oh no. What was it this time?
He told her. After football practice that afternoon some seniors and a couple juniors jumped him when he came out of the shower and held him down on the floor in the corner while he was still wet and naked and rolled him over and slapped him hard on the butt and the back of the head, laughing and calling him what they always called him, and then turned him faceup and one of the naked boys sat on him. Look at him. He likes that. One of the boys grabbed at his dick and hit it back and forth, cursing him, while the others pinched and gouged at him. One boy had an arm pressed against his throat and he could hardly breathe.
Then the coach finally heard the shouting and noise and came down the hallway. What in the goddamn hell? You boys get the hell out of here. Go on now. Goddamn it, get out of here.
They jumped up and grabbed their clothes from the metal lockers and put them on and ran out. He was still wet and naked, where they’d left him in the corner. He got up and stood shivering, shaking uncontrollably, turned sideways away from the coach, hiding himself.
What was all that? the coach said. What in damn’s name is going on here?
He wouldn’t speak. He stood shaking, burning all over.
The coach looked at him for a long time.
You better go on home. I don’t like this. Go on now.
I’m going.
What did you do to them? You must of done something.
I didn’t do a goddamn thing to those sons of bitches.
Well. I don’t know. You think you’re all right? Are you hurt?
I’m all right.
Get dressed then. Go on now. The coach watched him a while longer and shook his head and turned and went back to his office down the hallway.
He went into the toilet stall and blew his nose on the paper and washed his face at one of the sinks and got dressed and left.
I’m never going back, he told his sister now. I’m done. I’m quitting them all. I don’t care.
You don’t have to go back. You shouldn’t go back.
The goddamn assholes. He began to cry, his shoulders shaking.
She got up and drew him down on the bed and they sat together with her arm close around him. It’s all right now. It’s okay. Oh, Frankie.
He cried for a time and then stopped.
Are you going to tell Dad and Mom? she said.
No.
Then I’ll tell them.
No. Don’t say anything about this.
They’ll know something’s wrong if you come home early from school. And if you’re not suited up for the games.
I’ll tell them. I’ll make something up.
He began to cry again and she held him tighter.
Those sons of bitches.
Don’t, she said. They’re not worth it. Not one of them is worth it. You’re here. It’s okay now.
No, it isn’t, he said.
She held him as close as she could and pulled the blanket over them both. Later in the night he went back across the hall to his own bed.
24
THE QUESTION WAS how to make it seem acceptable to Berta May. I’ve known her for more than sixty years, Willa said. She was just a young woman only a little younger than I was when I moved here to marry your father. I met her at church. And then that man she married turned out to be no good and he left her and their daughter, and then her daughter married someone like her father and now she’s dead from breast cancer and Alice is sent here, for Berta May to raise at her age. I won’t have her troubled anymore, even a little, for anything. We have to be careful how we do this.
We can tell her it’s for us, Alene said.
That’s exactly what it is. It is for us.
We’ll tell her she would be doing us the favor.
That much is true.
Even if she doesn’t believe it.
We can hope she wants us to think she does. Will you call her or shall I?
You’ve always known her better, Alene said.
So the next day in the middle of the afternoon Berta May sat in the living room of her house in her housedress and apron and then the girl came out with her hair brushed and her face freshly washed.
Come here, honey. Let me look at you.
The girl stood in front of her.
You look just fine, Berta May said. Now be nice to them. Like you were when they took you out to eat. Do you know why?
No.
Because they’re lonely. They want to do something with someone young. They chose you.
But why?
I don’t know. They don’t know other young girls, maybe. Just be grateful for this.
But Grandma, I don’t need new clothes.
Yes, but they need to give you some. It’s for them. They need to have a reason to be with you and this is how they do it. It’s all right for you to receive this.
You said it was better to give than receive.
Now you’re letting them give. You’re giving by letting them.
When they drove up in front of the house, Berta May and Alice came out and stood at the door and looked out at the old woman and her elderly daughter waiting in the car and Berta May said, Now have a good time. That’s allowed. And you remember to thank them.
I will.
Good. I know you will. Go on then.
The girl walked down the steps and out to the car, not in a hurry but steadily, and got into the backseat behind Willa. Alene was driving.
Hello, dear, Willa said.
Hello, she said.
Alene turned and smiled at her and she smiled back. They drove over to Main Street and parked in front of Schulte’s Department Store at the intersection of Main and Second. Inside the store it was warm and not very brightly lighted. The big ceiling fans were spinning, making a clicking noise. They went back toward the rear of the old store with its narrow creaking wood floors to the girls’ section and Alene and Willa began to consider the selection of shorts and T-shirts. Alice hung back and then the clerk came, a high school girl working in the summer, and the Johnson women explained to her what they had in mind and she began to show Alice different outfits and combinations and to hold them up against the girl’s thin bony chest to size them. Alice watched the two women, to see what their reaction might be, and then she went alone into the small boxy dressing room against the wall where there was a full-length mirror and locked the door and took off her clothes and set them carefully on the bench and put on the new clothes, looking at herself in the long mirror, turning to view herself sideways, and unlocked the door and came back outside to the aisle where the women and the high school girl were waiting.
Well yes, Willa said, you look very nice.
Alene came forward and adjusted the shirt a little. What do you think, honey?
I like them all right.
Just all right?
They’re okay. They’re nice.