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“I’ve got some dresses, Jess Aarons.” Would wonders never cease?
“Here,” he said. “Open your mouth.”
“Why?”
“Just open your mouth.” For once she obeyed. He se
nt a stream of warm milk straight into it.
“Jess Aarons!” The name was garbled and the milk dribbled down her chin as she spoke.
“Don’t open your mouth now. You’re wasting good milk.”
Leslie started to giggle, choking and coughing.
“Now if I could just learn to pitch a baseball that straight. Lemme try again.”
Leslie controlled her giggle, closed her eyes, and solemnly opened her mouth.
But now Jess was giggling, so that he couldn’t keep his hand steady.
“You dunce! You got me right in the ear.” Leslie hunched up her shoulder and rubbed her ear with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. She collapsed into giggles again.
“I’d be obliged if you’d finish milking and come on back to the house.” His dad was standing right there at the door.
“I guess I’d better go,” said Leslie quietly. She got up and went to the door. “Excuse me.” His dad moved aside to let her pass. Jess waited for him to say something more, but he just stood there for a few minutes and then turned and went out.
Ellie said she would go to church if Momma would let her wear the see-through blouse, and Brenda would go if she at least got a new skirt. In the end everyone got something new except Jess and his dad, neither of whom cared, but Jess got the idea it might give him a little bargaining power with his mother.
“Since I ain’t getting anything new, could Leslie go to church with us?”
“That girl?” He could see his mother rooting around in her head for a good reason to say no. “She don’t dress right.”
“Momma!”—his voice sounded as prissy as Ellie’s—“Leslie’s got dresses. She got hundreds of ’um.”
His mother’s thin face drooped. She bit the outside of her bottom lip in a way Joyce Ann sometimes did and spoke so softly Jess could hardly hear her. “I don’t want no one poking up their nose at my family.”
Jess wanted to put his arm around her the way he put it around May Belle when she was in need of comfort. “She don’t poke her nose up at you, Momma. Honest.”
His mother sighed. “Well, if she’ll look decent….”
Leslie looked decent. Her hair was kind of slicked down, and she wore a navy-blue jumper over a blouse with tiny old-fashioned-looking flowers. At the bottom of her red knee socks were a pair of shiny brown leather shoes that Jess had never seen before as Leslie always wore sneakers like the rest of the kids in Lark Creek. Even her manner was decent. Her usual sparkle was toned way down, and she said “Yes’m” and “No’m” to his mother just as though she were aware of Mrs. Aaron’s dread of disrespect. Jess knew how hard Leslie must be trying, for Leslie didn’t say “ma’am” naturally.
In comparison to Leslie, Brenda and Ellie looked like a pair of peacocks with fake tail feathers. They both insisted on riding in the front of the pickup with their parents, which was some kind of a squeeze with Brenda’s shape to consider. Jess and Leslie and the little girls climbed happily into the back and sat down on the old sacks his dad had put against the cab.
The sun wasn’t exactly shining, but it was the first day in so long that the rain wasn’t actually coming down that they sang “O Lord, What a Morning,” “Ah, Lovely Meadows,” and “Sing! Sing a Song” that Miss Edmunds had taught them, and even “Jingle Bells” for Joyce Ann. The wind carried their voices away from them. It made the music seem mysterious, which filled Jess with a feeling of power over the hills rolling out from behind the truck. The ride was much too short, especially for Joyce Ann, who began to cry because the arrival interrupted the first verse of “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town,” which after “Jingle Bells” was her favorite song. Jess tickled her to get her giggling again, so that when the four of them clambered down over the tail gate, they were flushed-faced and happy once more.
They were a little late, which didn’t bother Ellie and Brenda for it meant that they got to flounce down the entire length of the aisle to the first pew, making sure that every eye in the church was on them, and every expression of every eye a jealous one. Lord, they were disgusting. And his mother had been scared Leslie might embarrass her. Jess hunched his shoulders and slunk into the pew after the string of womenfolks and just before his dad.
Church always seemed the same. Jess could tune it out the same way he tuned out school, with his body standing up and sitting down in unison with the rest of the congregation but his mind numb and floating, not really thinking or dreaming but at least free.
Once or twice he was aware of being on his feet with the loud not really tuneful singing all around him. At the edge of his consciousness he could hear Leslie singing along and drowsily wondered why she bothered.
The preacher had one of those tricky voices. It would buzz along for several minutes quite comfortably, then bang! he was screaming at you. Each time Jess would jump, and it would take another couple of minutes to relax again. Because he wasn’t listening to the words, the man’s red face with sweat pouring down seemed strangely out of place in the dull sanctuary. It was like Brenda throwing a tantrum over Joyce Ann touching her lipstick.
It took a while to get Ellie and Brenda pulled away from the front yard of the church. Jess and Leslie went ahead and put the little girls in the back and settled down to wait.
“Gee, I’m really glad I came.”
