Ch.2 Post 4

He stayed out there on the porch, and played chimney. Looked like he believed the rain doused the crops on his invitation. And he sat there, gladly overseeing the business of it all, surveying which gutters needed attention, plugging the leaks, internally, externally, in that stubborn philosophy of his. Silence where words fit. Words when paragraphs were called for.

I suppose the phone call had been scheduled, and that he was aware of it, and he intentionally handed it off to me, to duck her, because, the phone rang as  soon as I finished up the dishes. Oh Clement, her voice practically seeped into my inner ear, I miss you so much. Yes, Momma. I miss y’all so much. You tell Cubbie for me. What have you all been up to? The sound of her was persuasive. I stopped being mad right away, everything I thought I’d say to her, each tantalizing barb, succumbed to my mental image of her, long lashes, swaying skirt, bright eyes. Then I remembered the extra chores, the tv dinners, the angry man out on the porch, and voila, all that resentment returned, impelling me onward. Not riding rollercoasters, I said, what kind of thing is that? Leave us behind while you go have your own private summer vacation. Summer vacation is for kids, I added, getting hurt all over as I replayed the words I said to her. Your Daddy told you to say that, she said. No he didn’t. Let me talk to him. No, I want to talk to you. She took a deep breath. I had to keep going, before she had the chance to throw the bible at me.  Where are you? The top part of Georgia. What’s it like there? She loved telling us about places, especially if none of us had been there. It always seemed like she made things up, embellished details to elongate the story, because her descriptions were so totally enlivening, devoid of commonness, or boredom. The story rules the audience, she sometimes said. There aren’t many places  that she got to on her own, she never traveled like Daddy, and when she went anywhere, she usually had one or both of children in tow. But on the off chance she made it out of Peasticks alone, come supper time, she’d maneuver the conversation toward wherever it was she went, soon as she got the chance.

I could hear her breathing, on the other line, and thought how odd it was to know how someone breathes, to really understand the cadence and rhythm of that part of their life so well that once it ended, you could count it out, like a pop song, and dance around to it, if you chose. Odd, like how the idiosyncrasies of life  position themselves in the brief pauses, say, when you’re on the phone, and they keep it vital. And there came that quick suck of air she’d take before she started talking again, a cue, just as vital, but ever so faint. There was one place I thought I might see the light, she said, the story already swelling her like a balloon. Back in Tennessee. Bibleland. Of course, I had to see that. Billboards and signs everywhere you looked. But just like most things, advertising led me on, at my allowance, and once I found Bibleland , it wasn’t much more than an almost imperceptible stop on the highway. They sold fruitcakes, and Gideon’s Bibles. I think they bought all of ‘em from a bankrupt motel chain. I knew her disdain for the Gideon people, who she believed chopped out the guts of the book which served as her guide to life, instead cramming it with New Testament redemption.

Then there was Silver Dollar City, she exalted, and I thought that would make up for Bibleland. But it didn’t have much of a coaster. Then there were the Smokies. The cops got you, I asked, interrupting, anticipating, clamoring for a break. Are they bringing you back? No, no, honey, I’m talking about the Smoky Mountains. Tennessee mountains are much bigger than East Kentucky.  Though it all looks pretty much the same, after a while. Even Georgia. And honey, this one here, they call it the Cannonball. Wood so brightly painted white, it’s more divine than that grubby old one you and Cub saw. The cars are painted blue and grey, in keeping with the theme.  But the Cannonball is a religion unto itself. Provokes the good lord’s eyes of glory.