Freddie Owens - Then Like the Blind Man - Orbie's Story

Willis sat Chester in the middle of the road — the first I’d seen of him since Reverend Pennycall’s visit. “What ya’ll doing?” he said.

“Watching that cloud. What you?”

“Nothing. Too hot.” Willis slid off Chester. He looked at the cloud. “Rain ca-comin’.”

I remembered what Bird said. I remembered the circle around the moon and the diamond star. “It’ll blow over.”

“Might,” Willis said.

“Where you been?”

He didn’t answer, but I could see he had been crying.

“He ain’t dead,” I said. “Can’t be.”

“Can be too.”

“Granny don’t think so.”

“Miss Alma do.”

We watched the cloud a while, and then we went around to the front porch. I had my comic books and drawing papers and all my colors out there. Momma was sitting at the end of the porch in the rocking chair with Missy. Willis drew a picture of them. Then he started coloring it in. The colors looked good. Momma with black slacks and a blue blouse, little white flowers stitched across the front. Missy in a pair of black pedal pushers and a pink tee shirt. I sat back against the wall and read about body snatchers, about this man who was trying to warn people about the invasion of the body snatchers but nobody would listen.

Momma took up a little brown make-up case and looked at herself in the mirror. She took out the powder-puff and rubbed powder around the bruises on her neck. Willis worked on his picture. A blue dragonfly zoomed down next to his arm, flickered in the sunlight and zoomed away. Momma put the powder-puff back in the case. She dropped the case in a makeup bag by her chair. She took up a fan with a picture of Jesus on the back and began fanning herself and Missy.

I put away the Body Snatcher book and looked up in the sky. The cloud had moved up closer to the house and had mushroomed big as an A-bomb, twice the size it was before. The sky underneath was almost green with black-green curlycues and cave holes going through it. I had on my red shorts and Davy Crockett tee shirt. Flies kept tickling me, landing in places I couldn’t reach. I was smothering in the heat.

Something, a suitcase, Victor’s tan colored suitcase, kathumped down on the end of the porch right next to Momma, causing her suddenly to sit straight as a board. Victor kathumped his green file box on the porch too. He stood there a minute, looking around at the yard, all fidgety-like and nervous. “Momma,” he said. “I’ve decided. I’ve got to get out of here honey, and I want you and the kids to go with me.”

He broke down then and started to cry. Tears streamed down around his nose. He was wearing his silvery gray pants and that pink shirt with the cuffs rolled back to his elbows. Two pens and the end of a fat cigar stuck out the breast pocket. “I want you to come right now Momma. I’ve worked everything out. You don’t even have to think about it. We’ll just get in the car right now.” He took out a hankie from his back pocket and wiped his eyes. “Get the hell away from here.”

Momma sat up even straighter. “I can’t do that hon, what with Granpaw in the shape he’s in — and all this other business going on.” Missy began to whimper.

Willis looked up from his picture. He looked at me. He looked at Victor.

“I know,” Victor said. “But your mother and father, they’re going to be all right. I mean, listen. They could move to town. People will help them.” The color was gone from his face. “I’ve got it all figured out, Momma. Forget Florida. Forget the house, for now anyway. We can go anywhere we want. I’ve heard Texas is a good place. We could go to Dallas or Houston. Or how about Arizona?” When he said Arizona his eyes went wide. “Tucson? Yes! It’s hot there, but the winters are mild. We can go there! Sell the house later. I’ve got money. A little. And you’ll have Jessie’s insurance. I love you Momma! I don’t know what I would do without you and the kids!”

You could tell he’d been drinking. His forehead gleamed whitely in the sunlight. I could see the worms in his eyes — even from where I was sitting — cutting themselves on the glass behind his tears. Thunder rumbled across the sky. “Say you’ll come with me Momma. We don’t have much time.”

No Momma! Don’t believe him! Don’t say you’ll go Momma!

“Time?” Momma said, “Victor honey, what do you mean?”

Victor frowned. “I mean if we don’t hurry, your parents will be back. And then we’ll have to explain everything. You know how stubborn they can be. Your mother will start asking a lot of questions. Confuse things. I can’t have any confusion right now Momma. You can understand that, can’t you? Sure you can.”

Momma hugged Missy tighter, her voice weak and trembling. “Oh hon, now. Try to calm yourself. Mamaw. She just wants what’s best for the kids and me. She don’t mean any harm.”

Victor blew his nose in the hankie. “Uh huh. Then, what about me?” His voice had turned suddenly unpleasant. “What is it she wants for me I would like to know?”

“Well. She wants the best for you too. I think she does anyway. I don’t know. I don’t think she understands you good Victor. Sometimes. Sometimes I don’t know if I do.” She leaned a little away from Victor. “I mean like now. You wanting me to leave without even saying goodbye.”

Victor’s face went like a rock. “Write her a note.”

“I can’t do that hon.”

“I can’t do that hon,” Victor said, his voice mocking and hateful.

I got to my feet.

“It wouldn’t be right,” Momma said. “Please hon; don’t do this a way!”

Victor made his face go like Momma’s. “Please hon; don’t do this a way!”

I looked around for something to use against him. I remembered the knife but it was in the box with the Rain Skull under the house. Granpaw’s wheelchair sat empty. Maybe I could turn it around somehow and push it at Victor. There was an old iron Granny used as a doorstop; it was sitting upright on the floor behind the wheelchair. I reached down and grabbed it up by the handle.

Momma said, “It would break Mamaw’s heart I was to leave without telling her goodbye.”

Victor grabbed Momma by the wrist, jerking her toward him. “Break it then!”

Missy started to cry.

“Victor, your hurting me!”

“Victor, your hurting me!” Victor answered. “Better think of your kids Momma. You want what’s best for them don’t you? You want them to be safe?”

“Course I do!” Momma said.

“Course I do! Course I do!”

Take care of your Momma son. She don’t see things all the way through.

I tried to lift the iron over my head, but it was too heavy. I thought maybe, if I ran at Victor with it and let it go, it would hit him in the ribs, maybe knock the breath out of him. To do it though, I would have to run in front of Granpaw’s wheelchair, past Momma to the edge of the porch.

Willis grabbed me by the ankle. “What you gone do boy?”

“Let go of me Willis!”

“Well, well, what have we here?” Victor was looking right at me now. He still had a hold of Momma’s wrist.

“We ain’t going with you!” I said, trying to hold up the iron.

“So! Momma’s little hero,” Victor said.

“Let him alone,” Momma said. “Orbie put that down.”

Missy was crying full out now, screaming almost. There came the sound of a truck lumbering up the road, gears grinding hard. Missy got quiet. I thought it would pass but when it got to Granny and Granpaw’s, it turned up in the yard — Moses’ old pick-up truck — with Miss Alma behind the wheel. Vern and Fable were standing up in the truckbed, holding onto the cab.

Victor said, “Son of a Goddamn Bitch!” He let go of Momma’s wrist, grabbed up his suitcase and stormed away. The green file box stayed on the porch. A cool breeze rushed over the yard. Bunches of clouds were moving overhead now. They made an upside down floor over the crossroads all the way almost up to the house. Black green bubbly clouds they were, big bruised titties hanging down. A white bolt of lightning streaked to the ground followed by a roll of thunder.