Chapter 51

Confronting Grandpa

The afternoon stretches out like a lazy cat, and the air sweats. Florence is in a fretful mood. Pulling a handkerchief from her sleeve, she dabs at her face. “It’s utterly sweltering.”

“Hot enough to scorch a lizard,” I say.

She frets as Mr. Redmond fixes to go to the Camp. “Don’t get overheated. Take care of that cough. Make sure you know where the First Aid tent is.”

“I’m not your child,” he snaps.

She frets again about the heat.

After Mr. Redmond leaves, Florence lies down.

Chance and I sit on the shady front porch and hope for a breeze. We listen to bees explore the flowers. I am quiet, enjoying the way it feels to sit beside Chance, the scent of lavender sweetening the moist air around us.

When my mind slips to thoughts of Grandpa, I try to pull it back, but it’s as if my thinking has conjured him up. An automobile stops at the curb, and Grandpa steps out. I am startled by the sight of him, but speechless that he arrives in a horseless buggy. He hates them so.

Boy Scout Hadley is with him again.

“There’s my Ginnie Lee.” Grandpa’s smile is weak, as he tugs on Hadley’s arm. They edge past me to the porch, where the scout settles Grandpa in the rocking chair. Grandpa’s face is pale and worry-spiders have spun new wrinkles around his eyes.

“Young feller,” Grandpa says to Chance, “could ya fetch a’ old codger a drink’a water.”

When Chance slips through the screen door, Hadley pulls me aside. He towers over me, but stands ramrod straight and talks to a spot above my head. “It’s a hundred degrees today, and he can’t take the heat. It’s lucky he found me and I remembered him. He still isn’t wearing his badge.”

“I don’t think he has one.”

Chance brings a glass of water, and Mrs. Grome follows him.

“If he lost his badge,” Hadley says, “he needs to get a new one. There are too many veterans in Camp for me to keep track of one. Keep an eye on him until the sun goes down and it’s cooler.”

“I’ll try, but it’s right hard to make Grandpa do anything if he has a mind to do otherwise.”

 Hadley steps toward Grandpa and speaks slowly in a loud, clear voice, as though Grandpa is hard of hearing. “Stay with your granddaughter for now. Your state’s representative can get you a new badge.” He turns to go, but Grandpa grabs his sleeve.

“Why don’t ya visit a spell?”

Hadley shakes his head. “I have duties at the Camp.” He trots to the waiting automobile, and is gone quicker than a hound after a cottontail.

I hand Grandpa’s empty water glass to Mrs. Grome and wait for her to go inside. She doesn’t move. I look at Chance and nod toward the door, but he looks puzzled. For someone who speaks so clearly with his eyes, he’s right slow at understanding mine.

I sniff the air. “Is something burning?”

“My pie!” Mrs. Grome nearly drops the glass.

Chance finally catches my meaning. “Let me help you with supper.” He follows the old woman inside.

“Grandpa.” I’m fixing to ease my words along. I search his face. His color is back, and his worried look is gone. He rocks the chair, and a brazen smile comes to his lips.

I let out my breath, stand right in front of him, and my hands still the chair. My words are no longer careful. “What’s going on? What’s this hogwash about the heat bothering you?”

He rolls back his eyes and tries to look like a whipped puppy, but I recognize the shrewd hound-dog.

“I’m not swallowing one bit,” I say.

He looks away, but I move to where he’s looking. I lean over him. “Tell me!”

“Jiggers, Ginnie Lee. Ya might give a’ old man a heart fit, a-hollerin’ like that.”

I don’t back down. “You said you’d be in Camp with General Walker. Come to find out he’s been dead for years. You weren’t at the Camp. Why were you picking a fight with Gerald Simms?” Each word is louder than the one before.

Grandpa’s face gets serious. “Simms?” he says. “Ya want to talk about Simms?”

The last thing I want to talk about is Gerald Simms. And I refuse to let Grandpa lead me down that path.

I go back to the general. “Why did you lie about General Walker? Why did you lie about going to the Camp? You pile one lie atop another! I’ve taken all I can abide!”

“Simmer down, Ginnie Lee.” He runs his thumbs up and down his suspenders. “With Gettysburg plumb spilling over with folks, I seen a chance to earn some money. I toted bags to hotels and hauled vegetables to restaurants.”

“You came all this way to earn money?”

“It ain’t why I come, but I seen a chance and I took it. I done it fer you, fer us, ta make sure we got enough ta git us back home. It’s a mighty long walk if we ain’t got train fare.”

“What about your pelt money?”

He looks down at the porch floor a moment, then points at my shoes. “Spent a pretty penny on them shoes and your fancy hat. Spent quite a bit on them hotels we stayed at, too.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Instead of lying about a dead general?”

“Didn’t want ta worry ya none.”

“And you didn’t think I’d worry when Hadley said you’re ailish from the heat?”

He gets up from the chair and tugs his hat tight on his head. He scoots past me, down the porch steps, and winks over his shoulder. “His first name’s James. Good stock fer a husband. Ya know ya ain’t too young ta be a-lookin’.”

“I’ll do my own looking when I’m good and ready!”

“I’m goin’ ta the Camp.” He trots down the sidewalk, no trace of weakness in his step.

“Don’t you dare show up with a Boy Scout again!” I scream after him. “And get a new badge!”