Shiloh and Other Stories - Bobbie Ann Mason [42]
Cleo looks at the train. Two of the pictures are out of order, and she rearranges them so that the caboose is at the end. For a moment she can see the train gliding silently through the pleasant scene, as quietly as someone dreaming, and she can imagine her family aboard the train as it crosses a fertile valley—like the place down by the creek that Jake loved—on its way out West. On the train, her well-behaved sons and their children are looking out the windows, and Linda and Bob are driving the train, guiding the cowcatcher down the track, while Tammy and Davey patiently count telephone poles and watch the passing scenery. Cleo is following unafraid in the caboose, as the train passes through the golden meadow and they all wave at the future and smile perfect smiles.
DRAWING NAMES
On Christmas Day, Carolyn Sisson went early to her parents’ house to help her mother with the dinner. Carolyn had been divorced two years before, and last Christmas, coming alone, she felt uncomfortable. This year she had invited her lover, Kent Ballard, to join the family gathering. She had even brought him a present to put under the tree, so he wouldn’t feel left out. Kent was planning to drive over from Kentucky Lake by noon. He had gone there to inspect his boat because of an ice storm earlier in the week. He felt compelled to visit his boat on the holiday, Carolyn thought, as if it were a sad old relative in a retirement home.
“We’re having baked ham instead of turkey,” Mom said. “Your daddy never did like ham baked, but whoever heard of fried ham on Christmas? We have that all year round and I’m burnt out on it.”
“I love baked ham,” said Carolyn.
“Does Kent like it baked?”
“I’m sure he does.” Carolyn placed her gifts under the tree. The number of packages seemed unusually small.
“It don’t seem like Christmas with drawed names,” said Mom.
“Your star’s about to fall off.” Carolyn straightened the silver ornament at the tip of the tree.
“I didn’t decorate as much as I wanted to. I’m slowing down. Getting old, I guess.” Mom had not combed her hair and she was wearing a workshirt and tennis shoes.
“You always try to do too much on Christmas, Mom.”
Carolyn knew the agreement to draw names had bothered her mother. But the four daughters were grown, and two had children. Sixteen people were expected today. Carolyn herself could not afford to buy fifteen presents on her salary as a clerk at J. C. Penney’s, and her parents’ small farm had not been profitable in years.
Carolyn’s father appeared in the kitchen and he hugged her so tightly she squealed in protest.
“That’s all I can afford this year,” he said, laughing.
As he took a piece of candy from a dish on the counter, Carolyn teased him. “You’d better watch your calories today.”
“Oh, not on Christmas!”
It made Carolyn sad to see her handsome father getting older. He was a shy man, awkward with his daughters, and Carolyn knew he had been deeply disappointed over her failed marriage, although he had never said so. Now he asked, “Who bought these ‘toes’?”
He would no longer say “nigger toes,” the old name for the chocolate-covered creams.
“Hattie Smoot brought those over,” said Mom. “I made a pants suit for her last week,” she said to Carolyn. “The one that had stomach bypass?”
“When PeeWee McClain had that, it didn’t work and they had to fix him back like he was,” said Dad. He offered Carolyn a piece of candy, but she shook her head no.
Mom said, “I made Hattie a dress back last spring for her boy’s graduation, and she couldn’t even find a pattern big enough. I had to ’low a foot. But after that bypass, she’s down to a size twenty.”
“I think we’ll all need a stomach bypass after we eat this feast you’re fixing,” said Carolyn.
“Where’s Kent?” Dad asked abruptly.
“He went to see about his boat. He said he’d be here.”
Carolyn looked at the clock. She felt uneasy about inviting Kent. Everyone would be scrutinizing him, as if he were some new character on a soap opera. Kent, who drove a truck for the Kentucky Loose-Leaf