A Thousand Acres_ A Novel - Jane Smiley [127]
It wasn’t hard to hear them getting closer. Caroline was speaking to Daddy in a loud voice, and his tone matched hers. It was as if they both thought the other one was deaf. Loren must have left, because I heard him say, “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”
Roberta said, “Is there anything in particular you need, Caroline?”
Caroline said, “Daddy needs some things. Daddy? Mostly some socks and things. He made a list. Daddy? Have you got your list?”
“I’ve got it.”
There was a long pause.
She said, “May I see it?”
“Daddy? May I see the list?”
Another long pause.
Finally, he said, “You got money?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Let me see it.”
“It’s in my wallet. I’ve got plenty. It’s okay.” I saw Roberta’s feet go by my curtained booth, pause, turn, pause, proceed. Caroline said, “Let’s look at the socks. You like white, Daddy? These crews are a good buy.” Her voice was falsely enthusiastic, the way mine had always been. Urging progress, trying to avert letting this small project mire itself. After a minute or two, she said, “These are nice, Daddy. The heels are reinforced and they’re a hundred percent cotton. That will feel good on your feet.”
“Let’s sit down.”
There was a shuffling, stepping noise, then the scrape of a chair. He said, “Come sit down here.” His tone was equal parts commanding and wheedling. It gave me a chill. I noticed the two blouses I had taken off the rack. They were still clutched in my fist. I hung them on the hook, then shook out my hand.
Caroline said, “Daddy, we should—”
“Won’t you sit down? Come sit by me?”
She gave a laugh, and said, “Oh, okay.” I peeped from behind the curtain. The chairs they had found were between me and the door. I drew back again into the gloom of the booth. There was no chair, and the gap between the bottom of the curtain and the floor meant that I couldn’t sit on the floor without being seen. I leaned against the wall. He said, “You were a little birdy girl. Remember that brown coat you had? Little hat, too. You were so proud of that. It would have been that velvet stuff.”
“Velveteen,” said Caroline.
“I called you my birdy girl. You looked just like a little house wren.”
“Did I?”
I set my lips together
“You didn’t like it either, nosiree. You didn’t want any brown coat and hat. You wanted pink! Candy pink. You had it all worked out in your mind about that pink velveteen, and you took a pink Crayola to that coat, too!” He laughed a full, happy laugh. “Your mama had to spank you then for sure!”
“I don’t remember any of that. I remember something red—a jacket with hearts round the—”
“Couldn’t ever get you to stay away from those drainage wells! Didn’t matter how we punished you or whipped you, pretty soon, you’d be crossing the road and pushing bits of stuff down the holes! It was like a moth to the flame. Your mama would say, now do you understand, and you’d look her right in the eye and say yes, Mommy, and then off you’d go. I tightened down all the bolts. I knew the grates could hold three men, but it made me so nervous anyway, I got some U-bolts and went around and bolted ’em all down a second time. Then all I could think about was you crossing the road.”
They laughed.
I felt a kind of rushing pressure in my head, and the white walls of the booth changed color.
Caroline said, “We’ve got to go talk to Ginny and Rose today, Daddy.”
He didn’t say anything.
“We need to talk to them. I want to talk to them. I want to tell them—”
He mumbled, wheedling, “We don’t need them.”
“We don’t need them, Daddy, I know, but—”
“All we need is this.”
I leaned my forehead against the nubby cool wallboard.
“But I think—”
His voice was warm and low. “They’ll be jealous. You know how they are. You’re enough for me. Let’s go back to Harold’s, now. There’s Loren.”
“We didn’t get—”
“Take that stuff. Those things are okay.” Their chairs scraped, and Loren’s voice said, “Ready?