Tempest Rising - Diane Mckinney-whetstone [57]
Shern blew inside the door as if she’d been pushed. She ran straight up the stairs without even a hello to Victoria or even a quick glance at her sister to make sure she was okay, to make sure some harm hadn’t visited her alone all morning with Ramona.
“Boy in Smitty’s tapped her on the butt,” Bliss whispered to Victoria as she walked past.
“What? What happened to her?” Mae sat forward, her wig so crooked now the tan-colored edges of the stocking cap she wore under her wig peeked through.
“Tell me what happened to her.” Mae held Victoria even tighter, bracing herself.
“Boy came into Smitty’s and bothered her,” Tyrone said matter-of-factly. “Uh, Mae, thought you were gone till Tuesday, uh, Mae.”
“Bothered her, how?” Mae ignored Tyrone’s question. The more anxious she was to hear details, the tighter she clutched Victoria, who was squirming, trying to free herself from Mae’s clasp.
“Oh, you’re Mae,” Bliss said, walking in closer, studying Mae as if she had just come upon an interesting rock or leaf on a nature walk.
“That would be me, cupcake. And look at you, aren’t you adorable-looking like a piece of gingerbread with that light brown hair and the eyes to match? Now tell me what happened to your sister, doll face.”
Tyrone and Bliss exchanged glances; neither spoke.
“Well, Tyrone,” Mae said, her voice a full octave deeper now, “somebody better tell me something.” She had both hands around Victoria now.
Victoria could hardly breathe caught up in Mae’s arms, the air around Mae smelling like Clorox. Victoria felt like she was smothering in the bleachy air. “Tell her!” Victoria shouted as if the telling would save her own life. “Somebody please tell her what happened to Shern.”
“Well.” Bliss took a deep breath after the “well,” and Victoria rolled her eyes up in her head knowing Bliss would do a long, too long explanation.
But Bliss was already caught up in the telling, starting with how they’d stopped at Smitty’s after church and Tyrone was treating them to butterscotch Krimpets, and right when Tyrone went to the counter to pay Smitty, and Shern and Bliss stood peering into the glass case of two-for-penny candy—she listed the candy: chocolate-covered malted balls, red licorice sticks, spearmint jellies, strawberry cream-filled wafers—when they were pointing to the wafers, licking their lips at how good they looked, this boy bounced into the store like he owned it. “He went right to her, right over to my sister Shern and said, ‘Hey, sweet baby,’ right in her ear.” Bliss lowered her voice in a near-perfect imitation. “And Shern jumped and said, ‘Boy, you better get away from me.’ Then he made this old nasty slurping sound right in her ear; I could hear it clear as day from where I was standing. And Shern jumped back and pushed him away. And he laughed this old nasty laugh and acted like he was walking away, just so Shern could turn back around and try to forget he was even in there, but then he did a double take, and he put his old nasty hand right on my sister’s butt. You believe that? And I mean, he didn’t just put it there; he had the nerve to squeeze it like he was playing in clay dough or something.”
Ramona listened to Bliss describe the wretchedness of the boy. For the first time she was actually glad to hear Bliss’s fresh mouth go on and on. Ramona knew the boy had to be Addison. Sounded just like the kind of asinine thing the likes of Addison would try right in the middle of a store filled with people.
“Oh, my poor things, my poor, poor, poor things.” Mae gasped. She flung her arms in the air, finally freeing Victoria. Victoria fell against the back of the couch; she didn’t even mind the irritation of the plastic chair covers. For the moment she could breathe again.
“My poor things are having a bad time this week.” Mae went on. “I do declare I’m not gonna be able to leave town again. I leave here for a short trip on a mercy visit to my sister, and one poor little thing gets hurt and the other gets