Absolutely Normal Chaos

It’s a little hard to get used to how primitive this place is. I still haven’t gone to the bathroom. I did walk out to the outhouse.

Oh, Supreme Being! I’d forgotten just how awful that outhouse is. It’s so dark inside. The only light that can get in is a little sunlight from a hole cut high up one wall. But also through that hole come flies and wasps and creepy spiders. There are spiderwebs in all the corners. I don’t even want to mention the smell. Arghhhh. I’ll wait until I am absolutely desperate before I go in there. Maybe Carl Ray was as afraid of our bathroom as I am of his. Maybe he was used to all this back-to-nature sum and substance.

I’m back on the porch swing. I’ve been sitting here most of the day writing letters. Everybody else has been rushing around doing chores, and whenever I ask if I can help, they say, “Naw, you just set awhile.”

I’m getting tired of “setting awhile.”

I think Aunt Radene has the flu.

She did make dinner tonight though. We had fried chicken (again, because it’s Carl Ray’s favorite), gravy, boiled potatoes, corn on the cob, tomatoes, sweet potatoes, and fried peppers. Then for dessert we had chocolate pudding with whipped cream and also cherry Jell-O with bits of peaches inside.

We almost didn’t get the pudding because Aunt Radene dropped it. Arvie Joe was asking Carl Ray if he was sure he hadn’t seen any murders yet in The City, and Carl Ray said, “The only dead body I’ve seen was—” but he didn’t finish because that’s when the pudding slipped out of Aunt Radene’s hands. She doesn’t like to hear about dead people—I can tell.

Then, while Aunt Radene was scooping up the pudding, Arvie Joe asked Carl Ray about his job in the hardware store, so Carl Ray told them about stocking and orders and all that boring quintessence. Arvie Joe said, “They sure must pay you a lot, if you can afford that car.”

Carl Ray looked right at me, and I knew it was a warning, so I didn’t say anything—not until Arvie Joe kept going on about how much money Carl Ray must be earning. Just to participate a little in the conversation, I said, “Well, Carl Ray’s lucky. People keep giving him things—”

Carl Ray gave me a dirty look.

“Like what?” Sally Lynn said.

I was in trouble now. I fished around and fished around. “Well, like a job…” (Carl Ray relaxed a little) “…and a ring…” (Carl Ray gave me the dirty look again).

“A ring?” said Aunt Radene.

I was about to explain that it was the ring from Uncle Carl Joe, but then Uncle Carl Joe said, “A ring? What the blazes for?” Everybody looked at Uncle Carl Joé. I think those were the first words he said to Carl Ray since we arrived. I couldn’t tell if Uncle Carl Joe was pretending he hadn’t given the ring to Carl Ray or if he thought I meant that Carl Ray had been given another ring.

Carl Ray was staring at me. Then I realized that Carl Ray knew that the only way I could have known someone had given that ring to him in the first place was if I had been snooping in his drawers and read that card. I tried to move on. I said, “Oh well, he gave it away anyway.”

“You gave it away?” said Aunt Radene to Carl Ray.

“You gave it away?” said Lee Bob and Sue Ann.

“What did you go and give the ring away for?” asked Uncle Carl Joe.

But it was about this time that Aunt Radene fainted dead away on the floor (fortunately she missed the pudding mess), and Uncle Carl Joe and Sue Ann and Lee Bob all jumped up and started patting her face and everybody else was crowding around and then they carried her into her bedroom.

Carl Ray stayed in the room with her and the rest of us went back out and ate dessert. Sally Lynn said we could eat the pudding because the floor was “clean enough to eat up off of” and it “wouldn’t hurt us none.” It was good, even though I did find a dog hair in mine, but I didn’t tell anyone.

So then Sue Ann, Sally Lynn, and Brenda Mae did the dishes (I asked if I could help, but they said no) and now everybody’s getting ready for bed and I’m sitting here in the kitchen writing by the kerosene lamp. Aunt Radene is still in bed, but I can hear her voice. She’s talking to Carl Ray, so she must feel a little better.

I sure would like to know why Uncle Carl Joe seems so mad at Carl Ray and why they don’t talk to each other. And I sure would like to know when Carl Ray’s going to tell everybody about the money and the college education. Maybe he wants them all to believe that he is making a ton of money working in a hardware store.

I’m going to the outhouse. I can’t put it off any longer. If I don’t come back, tell Alex I lovvvve him. And my parents too. And Maggie, Dennis, Dougie, and Tommy.

(I survived the outhouse.)

After breakfast, I went with Lee Bob, Sue Ann, and Sally Lynn to the swimming hole. It is the greatest place in the world. You have to climb a big hill out back and then go through some woods and then down a steep hill by way of a narrow path, and at the bottom of this hill is a creek and you follow the creek along for a while and then you come to the swimming hole. It’s not very big, maybe fifteen feet across, but it’s pretty deep in the middle. There are trees hanging over it, so when you float on your back, you can look up and see tons of leaves. All around the edges are old fallen logs. One of these sticks out into the water and Lee Bob dives off it. No one else is brave enough to.

Well, we were having a great time. I thought I was in a magical place. But all of a sudden, Lee Bob yells “Snapper!” and everybody starts flailing around trying to get to shore. I didn’t know what was going on. They were all yelling at me to get out and hurry up and, boy oh boy, I scrambled out so fast.

They were all pointing over to one side. “What is it?” I kept saying.

“Snapper! Snapper!”

“What’s a snapper?”

They all looked at me like I was an imbecile.

“Snapping turtle, dummy,” Lee Bob said.

“You mean there’s a snapping turtle in there?” I said.

“Couple of ’em. You gotta watch it or they’ll get your toes.”

After a while, everybody went back in the water. Everybody but me. I’d had enough swimming for one day.

I was suddenly reminded of Mr. Furtz. Swimming in that hole all happy and everything and then hearing “Snapper!” reminded me of how we were going along all cheery as clams when the phone rang that day and we found out Mr. Furtz was dead. Snapper! It makes you a little afraid to get back in the water. Is that a metaphor?

I’m the same age as Sally Lynn, but the funny thing is that even though I’m from The City, she and Sue Ann seem a lot older than I am. They’re always talking about boys, and you can tell from the way they talk that they’ve been going out with boys for a long time. Sue Ann said that three of her best friends, who are the same age as she is, are engaged to be married!!!! Imagine!!! And Sue Ann’s best friend, who is sixteen years old, is pregnant! And no one seems to mind! Some things seem a little advanced here in West Virginia. What’s the hurry??? My mother would have a fit.

Sue Ann and Sally Lynn kept asking me about Alex, but I kept trying to change the subject, because I knew they would want to know what-all we did (in the way of messing around) and I was pretty sure they’d think that what Alex and I did was pretty babyish. I mean, if they knew that we hadn’t even kissed, they would laugh themselves silly. Maybe Alex will kiss me when I get back. I ought to practice.

Aunt Radene said she was feeling “a mite better,” but she didn’t look well at all. Her eyes were all puffy and even her freckles were pale.

Do you know what she asked me? (Of course you don’t.) She said that Carl Ray told her all about the money he received at Mr. Biggers’s office and about the college education. “Any idea who that was from?” she asked.

“Nope,” I said.

“Well,” she said, “I’m gonna ask you something strange, and if’n you’d rather not do what I’m gonna ask you, you just tell me straight on out and I’ll abide by that. But if’n you’ll do what I ask, I’d be beholden, Mary Lou Finney.”

I love the way she talks. And I think I understood what she said.

So she went on, “Now, Carl Ray has told me about gettin’ this money and a education from some stranger, like I said, and I know you know about that already.”

I was nodding.

“So what I want to ask you is this: I want to ask you not to tell Uncle Carl Joe or any of the kids about Carl Ray gettin’ this money and all. Would you do that for me?”

I said, “Sure, Aunt Radene. I won’t tell if you don’t want me to.”

She patted my hand.

“But,” I said, “could you tell me why you don’t want me to tell?”

She chewed on her lip awhile and then said, “Well, now, that’s a fair question. It sure is.” She chewed on her lip some more. I have a feeling she didn’t want to tell me.

Finally, she said, “There’s just some things that ain’t nobody’s business, at least not yet, and the way I figure it is this: Carl Ray’s been lucky and he’s had some good fortune, but if the rest of ’em hear about some stranger givin’ him money and all, then they’re gonna want to troop on up to The City too. And Mary Lou, I don’t want ’em to go. Not yet. I don’t want ’em to go, ’cause I might not get ’em back.”

Well, it sounded reasonable to me, so I agreed.

But I do wonder why she doesn’t even want to tell Uncle Carl Joe. You’d think that Carl Ray’s own father ought to at least know about it. Maybe he would have an idea who gave Carl Ray the money. Maybe it’s some old army buddy of his or something. Maybe it’s some long-lost maiden aunt of Uncle Carl Joe’s who is about a hundred years old.

So I’m going to keep the secret, but there’s something funny about all this, don’t you think?

Boy, am I homesick!! I sure wish I could call home.

Arghhh. Arvie Joe has been telling ghost stories out on the porch. He claims that every single one of them is true, and all the ghosts come from the graveyard in the front yard.

The worst one was about this young boy who got his head chopped off in some freak accident at a meat factory and how his body is always roaming around the yard looking for his head, and how his head is always somewhere around moaning and calling for his body. Oh, the noises Arvie Joe can make! He imitates the head calling for the body: “Ohhhhhh, bod-eeeee, where are youuuu?” He makes the head sound real sorrowful and gruesome, just the way a head might sound, I guess, if it was looking for its body. Anyway, right near the end of this story, Arvie Joe jumps up all of a sudden and gets this god-awful look on his face, and his mouth hangs open and he starts backing away from us and pointing out into the yard, and we all look out there and Arvie Joe says, “There it is. The head! There it is!” And we all look, but we can’t see anything, it’s so pitch black out there, and then Arvie Joe starts screaming and saying, “It’s coming, watch out, it’s coming!” and we all run into the house, screaming and shaking.

Uncle Carl Joe was sitting there in his chair, chewing his tobacco, when we all came running in. “Arvie Joe!” he said. “Quit scarin’ ’em, or I’ll tan you one.” But everybody was peering out the window and telling Uncle Carl Joe that the head was coming, and all of a sudden Uncle Carl Joe made these awful noises, just like Carl Ray did that day he chased me and Dennis and Dougie and Tommy at Windy Rock, and then he started chasing us around, and then Arvie Joe and Carl Ray joined in.

Boy, I mean to tell you I was scared about to death, with these three guys growling and chasing us, and the whole time I kept looking around for the head of that boy because I thought it might be chasing us too.

Boy, this is one strange family.

But you know what? It was the first time I’ve seen Uncle Carl Joe and Carl Ray doing something together and having fun. Afterward I saw the two of them walk down toward the graveyard together. I think they were actually talking.

And I’ll tell you one thing: I am not going to the outhouse at night anymore, flashlight or no flashlight. I’ll just have to wait until everyone’s asleep and use the pot that’s under the bed. Oh, Alpha and Omega, when will I be able to go home???

Oh yawn, yawn, yawn. I am so tired I could sleep standing up. I didn’t get any sleep last night.

First I had to wait until Sue Ann, Sally Lynn, and Brenda Mae were asleep (we’re all in the same room) so I could use the pot under the bed. Then I had one heck of a time trying to use that dumb thing, and just when I finished and I stood up, I tripped and knocked it over, and what a mess. So I had to sneak downstairs to find some rags to mop it up with.

And when I got downstairs, I heard Aunt Radene and Uncle Carl Joe arguing in their bedroom. Actually, I could only hear Uncle Carl Joe. He was saying something about “my blasted son.” I hope he didn’t mean Carl Ray, and I hope they’re not mad at each other again. I was afraid they’d hear me and think I was snooping, so I went back upstairs, and the only thing I could think of to mop up the pee with was my socks, so I blotted it all up and stuck the socks in the pot and pushed it back under the bed.

Then I couldn’t go to sleep because I kept thinking that the boy’s head was going to come in the open window (I sleep right next to the window), so I shut the window, but then I kept thinking that the head could still look in the window, and if it was a ghost-head maybe it could come through the window. So I put my head under the sheets.

Then I was pretty sure I could hear the head out there moaning. I thought I heard it say, “Oh, bod-eee, where are youuuu?”

I must have dozed off finally, because I had this awful nightmare. In it Mr. Furtz’s dead body was running all around the yard looking for his head, or at least that’s what I thought it was looking for, because it didn’t have a head on it. I was sitting in a tree (why was I sitting in a tree?) and then I happened to look next to me, and there, on the branch, was a head. The head fell out of the tree and landed on the body with a sickening glump, and I woke up. Thank the Deity!!! I was shaking to death. And then I noticed that the window was open.

I really want to go home.

Oh, and at breakfast this morning, cabbageheaded ole Sue Ann says, “Oh, Mary Lou, are you missing a pair of socks?”

“No.”

“Well, I found a pair of yours…”

“I’m not missing any socks.”

“…in the pee pot.”

Everybody started snorting in their oatmeal.

“After I peed in it,” she said.

Everybody was rolling off their chairs.

Arvie Joe said, “Normally, we don’t put our socks in the pee pot….”

And everybody’s gagging and snorting and rolling around.

Aunt Radene finally made them all shut up.

Boy, I can’t wait to go home.

Lordie. The last day of July. Summer’s almost over.

About the most exciting thing that has happened so far today is that Arvie Joe took me along on his paper route this morning.

First, we got in this old truck that looks as if it was the first truck ever made, and we drove down to the general store to pick up the papers. Arvie Joe isn’t really old enough to drive, but he does anyway. He’s pretty good at it, too. Then we sat outside the general store folding the papers. You have to fold them in thirds and tuck one end inside the other so that when you throw them they don’t go flying all over the place.

It’s not like doing a paper route in Easton, where you just walk along and place a paper in front of everybody’s door. We’re so way out in the country here that you have to drive and drive—sometimes it’s at least three miles between houses. The houses are set pretty far back from the road, so Arvie Joe slows way down and then whips the paper out the window and up to the front porch. Boy, does he have good aim.

He did the first few houses himself, to show me how. If the house is on the left side of the road, it’s easy—he just whips the paper straight out his window. But if it’s on the right side of the road, he has to whip the newspaper up over the roof of the truck.

After he showed me how, he let me do the houses on the right side. I messed up the first few. I threw one in a birdbath, one about halfway up the lawn, and another one hit a chicken in the front yard. But Arvie Joe was real nice about it.

He said, “Don’t they teach you how to throw, up there in The City?”

I said that it wasn’t high on the list of things to teach kids, no.

“Well, it oughtta be,” he said. Then he asked me what was high on the list of things to teach kids. I had to think awhile. “I guess algebra and English and stuff.” (I didn’t think “sum and substance” would go over real well with Arvie Joe.)

“Besides school crud,” he said.

“Well, besides school crud, let’s see…swimming, maybe. Baseball, I guess. Tennis.”

“Tennis? God almighty.”

“Anything wrong with tennis?”

“Sissy game.”

“Ah.”

“What else?”

“That’s about it.”

“God almighty. What about your parents? Don’t they teach you stuff, like throwin’ and fixin’ cars and stuff?”

I had a hard time with that one. “Manners, I guess. My parents are big on manners.”

“Manners? God almighty, girl. Manners? Manners sure ain’t gonna help you when you gotta fix a car!”

He was dying laughing.

Anyway, that was the big excitement of the day, Arvie Joe’s paper route.

I’ve hardly seen Carl Ray at all since we got here. He’s always off in his car, visiting his friends. He has a ton of friends here. That surprised me, I guess. And I keep forgetting to remind him about Beth Ann. I’d better do that. Maybe he’ll want to leave if I start reminding him about his Cleopatra back in Easton.

It’s funny, but the first day we were here, Carl Ray seemed so happy and excited to be back. But the last couple days, he seems so quiet when he’s here (which, as I said, isn’t all that much). He talks to Aunt Radene a lot, and ever since he and Uncle Carl Joe had their walk in the graveyard, they seem nicer to each other. But they still don’t actually talk to each other, in front of me, anyway.

Well, I’m going to stop for now. John Roy and Sally Lynn just asked me if I wanted to climb up Booger Hill (the hill right behind the barn) with them. I have no idea why it’s called Booger Hill.

I’m sooooo homesick. I really want to go home.

So I went, this afternoon, with John Roy and Sally Lynn to climb Booger Hill. They had packed some bologna sandwiches and Kool-Aid in a backpack, so we could have a picnic at the top.

John Roy was leading. He claimed we were following a path, but I couldn’t really see a path. On the way through the woods, they were telling me about a prisoner who escaped from a nearby prison two days ago. They were saying that he was armed and very dangerous. He’s killed all kinds of people, John Roy said.

“You don’t think he’d be around here, do you?” I asked.

“Naw,” John Roy said. “Why would he pick this hill? There’s millions of other hills he could hide out on.”

Sally Lynn said, “But he could have picked this hill, John Roy. He could have. Maybe he’s scared. Maybe he didn’t know which way to go. Maybe he’s starving to death.”

“Naw,” John Roy said. “If he’s such a good killer, he could kill all kinds of animals. He won’t be starvin’.”

“But he could be,” Sally Lynn said.

We climbed and climbed. I was getting a little tired, and my feet were killing me. I just had these cockamamie sandals on, but they were wearing work boots.

After we’d been walking for about an hour, John Roy said, “We’re almost to the cabin. We could eat there.”

“Cabin?”

“It’s sort of run-down and fallin’ to bits,” Sally Lynn said.

Pretty soon John Roy says, “There it is,” and he points to this pile of logs covered by some tarpaper. If you looked real hard, you could imagine that one time maybe it did look like a cabin.

We had just come up to the door (well, actually, there was no door, only a doorway) and John Roy said, “Whoa!” and Sally Lynn gasped and backed right into me, and I said, “What is it? What’s the matter?”

John Roy whispered, “Somebody’s been here. Look.” He pointed to some charred logs on the ground in front of the doorway. “That’s recent,” he whispered.

Then Sally Lynn said, “Lord Almighty, gum wrappers!” Then, before I could really see the gum wrappers, John Roy said, “Let’s get out of here,” and Sally Lynn yelped, and they took off running.

John Roy dropped the backpack with the lunch inside.

“Waittttt!” I shouted, but they didn’t even turn around; they just kept on running, so I took off after them.

John Roy shouted back, “Quit shouting! It’s the convict. He’s here.”

Once, in the fifth grade, I won first place in the hundred-yard dash at the school sports day. I ran like the wind that day. But compared to today, I bet that fifth-grade dash was a turtle crawl. I ran like crazy. I was sure that convict was going to reach out from behind any tree and grab me.

The worst part was that I couldn’t see either John Roy or Sally Lynn anymore. I could hear people running, but I couldn’t see them and I sure couldn’t see any path and I was just running and running. All I knew was that I was aiming downhill, but I had no idea where I was going other than down. Then I lost my sandal, but I kept on running. I was afraid that I was running right straight toward the convict or he was right behind me.

I ran and ran. It seemed like forever before I came to a creek at the bottom of the hill, but it wasn’t the place where we had started climbing. No sign of John Roy or Sally Lynn. I was sure the convict had already caught them. I figured I was going to have to find some help quick. I ran along the stream, thinking it had to lead somewhere, and finally I came to the swimming hole, so I knew where I was. I ran all the way up that hill, and when I saw the house, I started shouting for help and screaming my stupid lungs out.

Aunt Radene came out of the house and I was flailing my arms around, telling her about the convict and how he must have got John Roy and Sally Lynn and we had to get the police right away. I was so out of breath, I thought I was going to pass out.

The whole time I was trying to explain, Aunt Radene stood there looking at me as if I had lost all my marbles. Finally, she said, “Shh, come on inside.”

I didn’t want to go inside. I wanted her to hurry up and get some help and I wanted her to run, not poke along like she was doing. Then, all of a sudden, I see John Roy and Sally Lynn come strolling out of the house, each one drinking a glass of lemonade.

“Where you been, Mary Lou?” John Roy asked.

“Yeah, where you been?” said Sally Lynn.

I stared at them. “Where have I been? Where have I been? Where in Alpha and Omega’s name have you two been?” I thought I was going to faint dead away right there.

“Alpha and Omega?” said John Roy.

“What are you talkin’ about?” said Sally Lynn.

“The convict!” I said. “Where’d you go? I lost you—”

“Looks like you lost your shoe,” said John Roy.

“Yeah, where’s your shoe at?” said Sally Lynn.

Aunt Radene was standing there, looking from them to me and back again. “John Roy,” she said. “Sally Lynn—”

But then I went crazy. I ran inside and upstairs and fell on the bed and I bet I sobbed for fifteen minutes. After a while I heard Aunt Radene come up and say, “Mary Lou,” but I pretended like I was asleep. Then I did fall asleep, and I slept right up until dinnertime, but I decided not to go downstairs. I decided I wouldn’t eat until Carl Ray promised to take me home.

Carl Ray is the one who finally came upstairs to tell me dinner was ready. I pretended to be asleep, but he sat down in the chair by the bed and picked up my Odyssey and started reading. Finally, I decided to open my eyes or they were going to start twitching.

I said, “What part are you on?”

“Where Telemachus realizes who the beggar is.”

“Oh yeah. And Telemachus and Odysseus cry. Carl Ray? Can we go home?”

“I am home.”

“I mean to my home. Can we go back? Pleeeassse?”

I thought I was going to start crying again.

He nodded.

“Does that mean…?”

“We’re going on Friday—”

“But couldn’t we go before Friday? Please? You could go out with Beth Ann then. Don’t you think you should get back? What if Beth Ann finds somebody else?”

“Somebody else?”

“Yeah. Like what if her old boyfriend comes back?”

“Old boyfriend?”

“Well, gosh, Carl Ray, you’re not her first boyfriend.” I guess I shouldn’t have said that. He looked sad.

“Can’t go before Thursday.”

“Okay then, Thursday. Could we leave Thursday?”

“Yup.”

Oh, I wanted to jump up and kiss that cabbageheaded Carl Ray! I felt better just knowing we could leave one day sooner. So I went downstairs with Carl Ray for dinner. Carl Ray is okay.

I thought everybody would fall all over themselves teasing me about Booger Hill and the convict, but Aunt Radene must have threatened them, because no one said a word to me all through dinner. John Roy and Sally Lynn didn’t say anything to anyone at all. They just stared down at their plates.

We’re going home Thursday!!! Day after tomorrow!!!

What a horrible morning. I can’t wait to get out of here. I don’t care if I never come here again.

First of all, I woke up with a headache and an earache. The headache was from not getting much sleep again. I had horrible dreams about being on a ship and I was trying to get home and there was this awful storm that made the ship toss and roll around and we couldn’t see where we were going. Carl Ray was there—I think he was the captain.

Anyway, I just knew I was going to die before I got home. I kept praying to Athene to please let me get home, and if she got me home, I would be a much better person. I woke up before we ever got anywhere, so I don’t know what would have happened. I didn’t want to go to sleep again, because I was afraid I would be back on the ship. So I lay there thinking about Alex and Mom and Dad and Maggie, Dennis, Dougie, and Tommy. I tried to picture their faces and hear their voices.

The earache is from swimming in the swimming hole, I think. It hurts so bad, I can hardly open my mouth. I tried to get Aunt Radene to take me to the doctor, but she said an earache was no reason to go to the doctor. I told her I might be dying. She said she had a remedy. Do you know what she poured in my ear? Olive oil! Honestly. I’m not a salad.

And I still have the earache.

But worse yet was what I heard Sue Ann and Sally Lynn saying about me.

I came back in from the outhouse, and I was about to go upstairs when I heard Aunt Radene’s voice in the living room. I thought I would go in and tell her that my earache wasn’t any better, but I stopped when I heard Sue Ann say, “And she’s such a baby.”

Then it went like this:

Well, I didn’t hear any more, because I ran outside and up to the barn and climbed up in the hayloft and sat there. Boy, was I mad. I was really mad.

First of all, the dishes: I have offered at least five times to help with the dishes, and they keep saying, “No, you go set awhile.”

Secondly, the bed: They don’t give me a chance to make it up. I get out of bed, get dressed, go downstairs, eat breakfast, and I come back up and it’s already made. I figured they liked to make it.

Thirdly: I am not a baby!!! I’ve only been crying because I am homesick and because they’ve been teasing me and scaring me to death.

Fourthly: Haven’t done a stitch of work!! They never asked me to do anything. I would’ve helped if they had asked.

Fifthly: All I do is write letters and read books! Well, what else is there to do around this place????

Sixthly: I do not act like the Queen of Easton!!!!!

I stayed up in the hayloft a long time. After I got through being mad, I started to think about Carl Ray.

I hereby apologize for complaining about making Carl Ray’s bed, for teasing him, and for calling him stupid, cabbageheaded, witless, beefbrained, boobish, besotted, cockamamie, and anything else I might have called him.

But I’m never going to speak to Sue Ann or Sally Lynn again.

I didn’t speak to Sue Ann or Sally Lynn all afternoon.

Instead, while Aunt Radene was off doing the grocery shopping, and Sue Ann and Sally Lynn were God knows where, I swept the front porch (without anybody asking); I mopped the kitchen floor (without anybody asking); I dusted the entire downstairs (without anybody asking); I cleaned the living room (without anybody asking); I picked some flowers from the hill and put them around the house (without anybody asking); I swept and dusted the bedroom that I share with Sue Ann, Sally Lynn, and Brenda Mae (without anybody asking); and I was just starting on the windows (without anybody asking) when Aunt Radene drove up.

“Why, Mary Lou, what are you doin’?” she asked.

“Nothing. Washing windows.”

She said, “You don’t have to do that. You just set…”

“I don’t want to set!” I said.

“But you’re our guest,” she said.

“Tough,” I said.

When I finished the windows, I walked through the graveyard. It’s a strange thing, walking through a graveyard in the daytime. It’s not spooky, like it is at night. And it gives you this strange feeling: sort of a calm feeling in one way, and a very sad feeling in another way. When you’re in a graveyard, all the other stupid things like the convict and the things Sally Lynn and Sue Ann said, all those things seem ridiculous to worry about. And you wonder why you worry about them and why you let them get you so mad.

The graveyard is a pretty place, with flowers here and there, with all that grass, with those stones and the poems and sayings written on them, all about loving memory and loving parents and loving sisters and loving brothers and time and heaven and sleep.

And I was so calm after walking around the graveyard that I lay down in the grass and fell asleep.

I dreamed a strange dream. It was about Carl Ray and some man with a sheet over his head, and Carl Ray was walking up to him in slow motion, and then he was lifting the sheet, and then the sheet was off and Carl Ray was hugging the man. And someone was calling me, “Mary LOUUU, Mary Louuuu, where are youuuu?” and then I woke up.

Aunt Radene was standing on the porch calling me.

So I went up to the house, and she said, “It’s dinnertime. Come on in.”

Boy, what a huge dinner. Fried chicken (again), mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, tomatoes, green beans, coleslaw, potato salad, and beets. Everybody was talking about how it was Carl Ray’s last night home (they didn’t mention me) and oh, they wished he would stay longer, and couldn’t he at least stay until Saturday, and I started to feel sick because I thought he might give in and say yes.

But then. It was time for dessert. Sally Lynn and John Roy went into the living room and came out with this huge chocolate cake and on it, in huge white letters, was “MARY LOU: WE’LL MISS YOU.”

And then everybody started talking to me all at once, and Sally Lynn said she was sorry about Booger Hill and John Roy said he was sorry about the convict and Sue Ann said she was sorry if I overheard them today (how did she know?) and that they didn’t mean it, and on and on. I thought I was going to cry, but I didn’t want to seem like a baby, so I chewed on my lip a lot.

That was a nice thing for them to do, don’t you think?

But still, I’m not sorry to leave and WE GO HOME TOMORROW!!!!!!!

HOORAY!!!!

I AM HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We made it! The ship didn’t crash in the storm. Captain Carl Ray got us through. I am in my OWN room writing at my own NEW DESK. But, but, but. There’s more to tell first.

Where oh where to begin? Calm down, Mary Lou.

The trip. You can imagine, I guess, that I wasn’t real sorry to leave Aunt Radene’s, even if she did cry when she hugged me good-bye and even if Sally Lynn did give me a present (a book wrapped up in paper: it’s all about sex) and even if Aunt Radene did hold on to Carl Ray as if she wasn’t ever going to see him again.

One really surprising thing is that Carl Ray and I talked (yes, talked) on the way back, and I found out the most amazing things about Carl Ray.

First, I asked him if he had ever been homesick at our house, and he said yes. So I asked him why he hadn’t said anything about being homesick, and he said, “Wouldn’t have done any good, would it?” I had to think about that. When I asked him if he would still be homesick now, he said he didn’t rightly know. “But why are you coming back, then?” He said he had some “unfinished business,” and he wouldn’t explain, but I figure he means Beth Ann.

It took about a hundred miles of the trip to get that much out of Carl Ray. Then I asked him if Uncle Carl Joe was always mad at him.

“Mad?” he said. “What do you mean, ‘mad’?”

“Well, he didn’t exactly seem thrilled to see you home.”

Carl Ray gave me one of his long, mournful looks. “He just doesn’t show it,” he said. “We had a fight.”

“A fight?” This was interesting.

“Before. When I was still living there. That’s why I left in such a hurry. That’s why I came to Easton.”

“What? You didn’t come to find work? Aunt Radene said you were coming to look for work.”

“I did look for work, didn’t I?” he said.

“But what was the fight about?” Carl Ray gets away from the important issues very quickly.

“Well…” He looked as if he was trying to decide whether or not he should continue. “If I tell you something, do you promise not to…”

Oh boy, here we go again, I thought. Maggie and Beth Ann are always making me promise not to tell. And Aunt Radene asked me to keep the secret about Carl Ray. Now someone else making me promise not to tell. I can’t keep all these promises straight.

“I promise. Now just tell me.”

“You really can’t repeat—”

“I promised, didn’t I? God, Carl Ray.”

“Naw,” he said. “I can’t. Mom would kill me.”

“Carl Ray! That’s so mean. First you make me promise. Then I promise. Now you’re not going to tell me. God.” (I was saying “God” again.)

But he wouldn’t tell me. So I was mad for a while. Then I decided to read the Odyssey, but all of a sudden I remembered the dream in the graveyard and all of a sudden I realized that Carl Ray was Telemachus!!! I said, “I’ve been having the strangest dreams, and you’re in almost every one.”

“Me?” He looked pleased.

Then I told him each dream. I told him about the headless body dream and the ship in the storm dream and then the graveyard dream where he rips the sheet off of the man and starts hugging him. “I think I’ve been reading the Odyssey too much.”

But Carl Ray had the strangest look on his face. His mouth was half open and his hands were wrapping tighter and tighter around the steering wheel.

“What’s the matter, Carl Ray?”

“That’s amazing,” he said.

“What is?”

He just sat there. I thought I was going to have to slap him or something. Then he said, “Okay. I’m gonna tell you. But you have to promise.”

“I already promised. I am not promising again. If you don’t believe me—”

“Okay. Okay. Here it is, then.”

Why can’t people just say things straight out? It drives me one hundred percent cra-zeeeee when they mumble around like this.

Ooops. Mom wants me to stop writing and talk with her.

I’m too tired to finish this. Tomorrow. I have a lot to tell.

Oh, mercy. Why is everything getting so complicated? How am I ever going to catch up? How am I going to explain it?

And where, oh where, is Alexxxxx?????

Oh, God. I mean Alpha and Omega. Control yourself, Mary Lou. Back to the car trip home yesterday with Carl Ray.

Right.

Here is what Carl Ray told me when he finally decided that he could trust me. He said, “Have you ever thought your parents weren’t your parents?”

“Sure,” I said. “I always think I’m probably adopted. Only my parents don’t want to tell me. See, they want to pretend—”

“Well, I never thought that.”

“That I was adopted?”

“No. That I was adopted.”

“Carl Ray, are you? Are you adopted? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? If that—”

“No.”

“No what? Carl Ray, just spit it out. Just spit it right out!!!” I was getting that exploding feeling again.

“I’m trying to. You know that fight I mentioned? The one with my father? Well. This is what it was about.”

He talks so slowly! He pauses after every couple of words.

“One day my mother told me that my father was not my father, and then I went sort of crazy and left home—I was staying with some friends—and I didn’t want to talk to my father—my Carl Joe one—at all. Because he wasn’t my real father. Don’t you think they should have told me that a long time ago? Don’t you think they should have let me find my real father?”

“Wait a minute. Let me get this straight. Your father is not your father? Did she tell you who your father is? Your real father?”

He said, “Yup.”

“Wow. So who is it?”

“I can’t tell.”

“CARL RAY, YOU IMBECILE.”

“What’s the matter with you?”

“You can’t make me promise and then not tell, and then tell, but only tell part. You just can’t do that.”

“But my mother would KILL me—”

“I don’t care, Carl Ray. I don’t care.”

I thought we were going to have an accident, because right about then, the car in front put on its brake lights and I had to scream at Carl Ray and he jammed on the brakes and just missed that car by about six inches.

“So,” I said, when we calmed down from almost being killed, “tell me who it is. Spit it out.”

“I’m not saying a word,” he said. “I promised my mother that I wouldn’t tell anyone who it was until…”

“Until what?”

“Until I talk with someone.”

“Who?” I said. “Is it your real father? Is that who? Is that who you have to talk to first?”

Carl Ray drove and drove and drove. And just before we pulled in our driveway, Carl Ray made me promise (again!!!) not to say anything to anyone under any circumstances. I said, “What about Alex? Not even to Alex?” and he said, “No!” so I promised, but I’m not sure I can keep that promise.

So we got HOME. Finally. Everybody was eating dinner and they were so surprised because they didn’t expect us until Friday and they were hopping all around and talking all at once.

Dennis and Dougie were going on about some presents, Maggie was going on about Beth Ann calling all the time, Tommy was going on about a tractor, and Mom and Dad were going on about Mrs. Furtz.

The bit about the presents was this: During the week that we were gone, boxes started arriving—a lawn mower for Dad, a bicycle for Dougie, a kiddie tractor for Tommy, ice skates for Dennis, a coat for Maggie, and a coat for Mom. Then something for me.

“For me? Where is it?”

They said it was in my room. I went racing upstairs. There, in my room, was this rolltop desk with a million little cubbyholes for paper, pens, and all that stuff. I was never so surprised in my whole life.

Everybody knew it was Carl Ray. We were all hugging him and thanking him. Boy, did he look embarrassed.

How about that Carl Ray?

Next, the bit about Beth Ann: Maggie said that Beth Ann must have called thirty times, and Carl Ray better hurry up and call her before she explodes.

Everybody thought that was real funny—except Carl Ray, that is.

Mom said that on the day we left (last Friday), Mrs. Furtz came over. She was a basket case. She said that she had to see Carl Ray, but they explained that we had left. She wanted his phone number. They explained about the phone.

Mrs. Furtz said she had to talk to Carl Ray about the ring. Carl Ray gave me a sick look when they said this, but he said he would go over there tomorrow (which is today, but I’ll tell about that later).

Boy, what an exciting evening. But most of all, it was so wonderful to be HOME. I know how Odysseus must have felt.

When things quieted down a little, I phoned Alex. I was dying to talk to him and surprise him, because he wasn’t expecting me until tomorrow. But there was no answer. I called about ten times last night and ten times today. Where IS he? He was supposed to be home on Tuesday. I can’t stand it. If I don’t see him pretty soon, I’m going to burst. Calm down, Mary Lou. Maybe his family decided to stay longer in Michigan. Maybe they got in an accident. Oh, Lord. Calm down, Mary Lou.

I just tried phoning again. NO ANSWER. Oh, Alpha and Omega!

Calm down.

Beth Ann. I will talk about Beth Ann to get my mind off Alex. Carl Ray called her last night and went over to her house (after he put on a ton of Canoe). She called today, but Carl Ray was over at Mrs. Furtz’s, only I didn’t tell her that. I just said he was out. Then she went on and on for hours about how much she had missed him and how wonderful it is to have him back, only he seems tired and sad, she said, and on and on, and did he miss her, and what did he say, and on and on. I made a bunch of stuff up.

She didn’t say one word about missing me. Friendship, boy.

She did say, however, that she went to the GGP pajama party and that it was “fine,” but she “couldn’t really say” what she did there. (She’s starting to sound just like Carl Ray.)

“What do you mean, you can’t really say? Don’t you remember?”

“Oh,” she said, “I remember. Only I can’t say.”

“Why not?” I asked.

Pause. Pause.

“Why not, Beth Ann?” She can be a real pain sometimes.

Pause. Pause. Pause.

I was about to hang up the stupid phone.

“Promise not to get mad?” she said.

ANOTHER ROTTEN STUPID PROMISE! I almost threw the phone out of the window.

Quite calmly, I said, “I promise not to get mad, Beth Ann.”

Pause. “Well,” she started, “I’ve been voted into GGP…”

I felt my teeth gnashing together.

“…and, oh please don’t be mad, Mary Lou, but I accepted their invitation to join, and I can’t tell about the pajama party because it is supposed to be secret.”

“What? A pajama party is secret?” Gnash. Gnash.

“Mary Lou, you promised not to get mad—”

“I am NOT mad,” I said, and I hung up the stupid phone. Honestly.

I will change the subject. I will not waste any more paper on Beth Ann Bartels.

I showed Maggie the book that Sally Lynn gave me about sex and she seemed extremely interested in it. I let her borrow it. I’ve already looked through the good parts. It’s a little advanced, I think, for me. It’s probably a little advanced even for my parents.

WHERE IS ALEXXX??? (I just phoned again: no answer. Groan.)

Mrs. Furtz. Tell about Mrs. Furtz. Okay.

Carl Ray looked really pathetic when he got back from seeing Mrs. Furtz today. He said she wanted to know where he got the ring.

I’ve been wondering about that myself. “So?” I said. “Where did you get it? And if you’re going to ask me to promise not to tell, I am gonna blast you one.”

“I told her that Mr. Furtz gave it to me before he went into the hospital that day.”

“WHAT??? Are you saying Mr. Furtz gave you that ring? The one you turned around and gave back to Mrs. Furtz? Is that what you’re saying here? Could you tell me exactly why it is that everybody’s always giving you things, Carl Ray? Could you please tell me that? You hardly knew Mr. Furtz. You worked for him—what—a day? A lousy day? And he gives you a ring? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

I would not make a very good detective. I would want to beat the information out of people. Which is what I felt like doing right then to Carl Ray. I am so impatient.

“Why, Carl Ray? Why did he give it to you?”

“Look, Mary Lou. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow, okay? I have to go think awhile. I promise I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

Oh brother. He’d better tell me or I’m going to kill him.

Just phoned Alex again. No answer. Groannnn. I’m going to bed. Please let him be home tomorrow, Athene, please.

Oh, King of Kings and Alpha and Omega! I am definitely going to go cra-zeeee.

First of all, that beefbrained Beth Ann. She called here four times this morning wanting to talk to Carl Ray. The first two times I said he was still in bed and I wasn’t going to wake him up. The third time she begged and moaned, so I went up to wake him, and he wasn’t there! So I told her that and she wanted to know where he was.

I said, “I’m not my brother’s keeper, Beth Ann.”

She said, “He’s not your stupid brother, Mary Lou.”

She called again an hour later and wanted to know if he was back yet. I said, “Nope.” She wanted to know when he would be back.

I said, “I’m not my brother’s k—”

Then Carl Ray came home. I told him about besotted Beth Ann. He said he’d call her later. I said, “Good for you, Carl Ray.” I was glad he didn’t go rushing to the phone.

Then I asked him if he’d drive me to the drugstore. I didn’t have to go to the drugstore, but I knew that was the only way I was going to get him alone so he could tell me the rest of the story about the ring.

I should mention, however, that before Carl Ray came home, I called Alex again. He wasn’t home. I’m going to die.

So Carl Ray and I got in the car.

“Okay,” I said, “finish your story, and don’t give me any business about ‘What story?’ You know exactly what I mean. About Mrs. Furtz. She wanted to know where you got the stupid ring and you told her that Mr. Furtz gave it to you, and I asked why, and you didn’t answer. And by the way, I want to know exactly why you came here to Easton and exactly who your father is. I want to know it all, Carl Ray.”

He gave me one of those mournful looks. “I came here because my mother said that my father—the real one—lived here in Easton.”

“In Easton? God! Easton?” I was trying to think of everybody I knew who was old enough to be Carl Ray’s father. I had this horrible thought that what if it was my father? That was too horrible to even think about. Then I thought of Mr. Furtz, but Mr. Furtz was dead and, besides, he didn’t even know Carl Ray until Carl Ray got a job at the hardware store. Then I thought of Mr. Cheevey, for some reason, and as soon as I thought of Mr. Cheevey, I thought, Of course! Mr. Cheevey has those long arms and those long legs and that skinny body and that little bitty head and those freckles. Boy, have I been stupid! All that other stuff—the money and the college education—must have come from his real father. Of course! Mr. Cheevey has lots of money. But eck—Alex and Carl Ray as brothers? Eck. I said, “WHO IS IT? WHO IS YOUR FATHER?”

“You don’t have to yell.”

“I DO! I DO! I DO!” I stopped. I counted to twenty. I breathed deeply. “Okay, Carl Ray,” I said, in this very sweet and soft voice. “Did you find your father here in Easton?”

He nodded.

Softly, sweetly, I said, “Who is it, Carl Ray?”

He looked all mournful. “I have to do one more thing first, and then I’ll tell you.”

Aargh. “And when might that be? I am only asking for an approximate time. Tomorrow? Wednesday? Next week? Next year? In ten years?”

“Pretty soon.”

“Very good. Very good indeed, Carl Ray. Thank you for telling me all of this.” Sometimes when you talk with Carl Ray for a while, you begin to lose your marbles and talk like an idiot.

Oh, King of Kings!

Alex is home! Finally! Sigh.

I haven’t seen him yet. I called and called his house all day and was just about to expire from despair because no one was home, no answer, no nothing.

And then, after dinner, he called. They made a “side trip” to visit some old friend of his father’s and that’s why they didn’t get back on Tuesday. He’s fine, he missed me, and he wants me to go over there tomorrow. Maybe Carl Ray will drive me over. I don’t think I can wait until tomorrow night. God, I’m hopeless.

Right after I finished talking to Alex, the phone rang and Maggie answered it, and she said it was for Carl Ray. He mainly listened, and every once in a while he would say, “Yup,” and “Okay.” I knew it wasn’t Beth Ann, because when he’s talking to her on the phone, he messes with his hair.

When he hung up, I said, “So, who was it?”

He said, “Just somebody. Nothin’ important.”

Honestly. People. I didn’t even ask him about any of his secrets. I think the trick with Carl Ray is that you have to give him a little time. You have to be patient. I am going to learn to be more patient.

Oh, Deity, Omnipotent, Alpha and Omega, King of Kings and Supreme Being!!!!

You won’t believe it.

You really won’t.

But then again, maybe you will. Maybe you haven’t been as stupid as I have been.

Calm down, Mary Lou. Tell it from the beginning.

First of all, while Carl Ray was at work today, the mail came and there was a letter for Carl Ray from Aunt Radene. I kept looking at that letter. I held it to the light but couldn’t see anything at all. Then I examined the flap to see if it would open easily. Stuck down tighter than anything. I thought about trying to steam it open, but the last time I did that (with one of Maggie’s letters) I burned my hand, and it didn’t work anyway, and Maggie could tell someone had been trying to get her letter open and she went berserk.

So I had to wait.

As soon as Carl Ray got home, I gave him the letter. Then I stood there while he looked at it. He didn’t open it. He started up to his room. I said, “It’s from your mother.”

He said, “I know.”

God.

Then I asked him if he’d take me over to Alex’s after dinner. He said, “Sure,” and he went on upstairs.

He came down for dinner with a tie on! Everybody started teasing him.

“Goin’ out with Beth Ann?” Dennis asked.

“Hot date, huh?” said Dougie.

“Didn’t know you owned a tie, Carl Ray,” Maggie said.

But Carl Ray just ate his dinner.

Then he drove me to Alex’s. He seemed so nervous. I figured Aunt Radene must have really shaken him up by her letter. So I said, “What did your mom have to say?”

“Oh, stuff.”

“Yeah. Stuff. Like what?” I get right to the point, don’t I? So much for patience.

“She told me that I could tell people about my real father if I wanted to. She said she had a long talk with my other father—the Carl Joe one—and he understands now why I was so mad at first and why I had to come up here to find him—the other father. He—Carl Joe was jealous, she said.”

I counted to ten. “So is it okay for you to tell who your real father is? Can you tell me now? Can you?” He pulled into the Big Boy parking lot and stopped the car. I counted to twenty. I breathed very deeply.

And then HE SAID IT. He just came right out and said, “Mr. Furtz is my father.”

Holy cow. Alpha and Omega. All I could say was, “Mr. Furtz?”

And Carl Ray sat there nodding like an idiot, but all of a sudden he started to cry, and all of a sudden I remembered that Mr. Furtz was dead, and so I started patting Carl Ray on the shoulder. Mr. Furtz! When he calmed down a little, he told me the whole story. If I put it down just as Carl Ray said it, with me in between counting to thirty and forty and fifty and holding my breath, it would take me a whole journal. So I’ll summarize it to the best of my ability.

Here goes: When Aunt Radene first told Carl Ray that Uncle Carl Joe was not his real father, Carl Ray was really mad. He thought she should have told him sooner. He made her tell him who it really was, and she said it was a man named Charlie Furtz.

Aunt Radene and Mr. Furtz had been dating for a year when they went to a New Year’s Eve party in Easton. That’s the party my parents talk about, where Uncle Carl Joe and Aunt Radene fell in love “at first sight.” Aunt Radene stopped dating Mr. Furtz and started seeing Uncle Carl Joe and right away they knew they were going to get married. Then Aunt Radene discovered she was pregnant and it was Mr. Furtz’s baby. (Does this sound like a soap opera or what?) But Uncle Carl Joe said it didn’t matter to him. So they got married right away and nobody ever knew that Carl Ray was anybody’s baby but their very own.

Then, about six months ago, Aunt Radene read an article in a magazine that said you should always tell children if they were adopted, that they had a right to know. Uncle Carl Joe didn’t think she should tell Carl Ray because he wasn’t exactly adopted. Aunt Radene was his real mother, after all. And Uncle Carl Joe said, “What is a father anyway? Isn’t it someone who raises a child as his own?” But Aunt Radene worried and worried and finally she told Carl Ray.

Are you following this?

Anyway, she could not have known Carl Ray would go all berserk on her, and that he would insist on knowing who his real father was and where he lived. As soon as Aunt Radene told him it was Charlie Furtz and he lived in Easton (at least she thought he still lived there), Carl Ray said he was going to go find him and no one could stop him. Uncle Carl Joe got mad. That’s when Aunt Radene wrote to my parents asking if Carl Ray could come up here and stay with us awhile.

“God!” I said. “Did you know Mr. Furtz lived right across the street from us?”

Carl Ray said no. He had looked in the phone book under Furtz and there was one Charles Furtz, who lived on the other side of Easton. Carl Ray went to that address, but the lady living there said the Furtzes had moved to a bigger house. She wasn’t sure where this bigger house was. He was all depressed, but that very night he came outside when Dennis and I were sitting on the curb, and he heard us say the name Furtz and he couldn’t believe it. He decided it was fate.

The next day he went to the hardware store and he told Mr. Furtz who he was, and that he was Mr. Furtz’s son.

“God!” I said. “What’d he say? Was he mad? Did he believe you? God!”

“He just looked at me a long time and asked me when my birthday was and he thought awhile and said that well, I did look like him a little bit. He wanted to call my mother, but when I said she didn’t have a phone, he said he would write to her. Then he offered me a job—and on the first day of work, he gave me the ring.”

“It was Mr. Furtz’s ring?” That’s when I realized that Mr. Furtz (Charlie), Uncle Carl Joe, and Carl Ray all have the same initials: C.F.

Carl Ray nodded. “I didn’t know this then, but my mother had given him that ring a long time ago. That day he went to the doctor, and then to the hospital, and a few days later…” Carl Ray started crying again.

It was awful. I was crying too.

Later, Carl Ray said that he only just learned from Mr. Biggers that when Mr. Furtz heard that he had to go into the hospital, he was afraid that he was going to die. He had a premonition. So he contacted Mr. Biggers.

“The money! The college education! That was from Mr. Furtz?”

Boy, have I been stupid. I should have guessed this a long time ago. I’ve been so wrapped up in Alex Cheevey that I didn’t see anything right in front of my nose.

Carl Ray said that yes, it was all from Mr. Furtz, although Mr. Biggers didn’t tell him that at the time. Carl Ray didn’t know that for sure until he went home and told Aunt Radene everything. She was very upset about Mr. Furtz dying. She wished Carl Ray had told her that sooner. He felt real bad about that, I could tell. But Aunt Radene said that would explain the letter she got from Mr. Furtz, saying he wanted to leave something for Carl Ray, and she had written back saying only “You don’t have to.” But apparently Mr. Furtz didn’t get that letter. He was dead already. Mrs. Furtz got it and she didn’t understand it.

When we got back from West Virginia, Carl Ray went to Mr. Biggers again, and he said he needed to know if it was Mr. Furtz who gave him the money, and Mr. Biggers said he would have to check if he could divulge the name. That’s who called Carl Ray on Sunday. Mr. Biggers. And he said, yes, it was Mr. Furtz who had left Carl Ray the money and all.

How am I doing? Like I said, this took Carl Ray hours to spit out.

Sometime in there I asked Carl Ray if he had told Mrs. Furtz any of this, and he said that yes, he told her today.

“Well, God,” I said. “Was she mad? I bet she was really mad. Wasn’t she? She didn’t even know that you were Mr. Furtz’s son?”

He said, “Nope. She didn’t know. But I think she was a little relieved.”

“Relieved?”

“She said odd things had been happening. First, right after Mr. Furtz died, a letter arrived for him that said, ‘Dear Charlie, You don’t have to. Sincerely, Radene.’ Mrs. Furtz thought he had been seeing some other woman. Then I gave her the ring, and she knew it was Mr. Furtz’s. He had always kept it in this little box on his dresser, and he told her it was from an old girlfriend. He never wore it. She couldn’t figure out how I got it. She thought I stole it. Can you imagine that?”

“Didn’t she want to know why Mr. Furtz never told her about you?”

“When I told her that Mr. Furtz only just found out himself—that I was his son—right before he went in the hospital, she said that she knew he would have told her soon enough. And when I got ready to leave, she said, ‘I’m just glad to know that there’s a little more of Charlie left in the world now that he’s gone.’”

Can you imagine that? It made me cry.

So. We sat there a long time. I felt real bad for Carl Ray. Why did Mr. Furtz have to die right after Carl Ray found him? Finally, Carl Ray started the car again, and when we pulled into Alex’s driveway, I asked him where he was going, all dressed up. Carl Ray said, “To the cemetery. I want to talk to my—uh, my father.”

Well, I started bawling like mad, and Carl Ray had to pat me on the shoulder. Then I asked him if he wanted me to come with him, but he said, “Nope.”

When Alex answered the door, he just stood there. He looked at me as if he’d never seen me before.

I thought I was going to die. Oh boy, I thought. He doesn’t like me anymore. Then I thought, I look terrible from all this crying and he’s thinking I’m uglier than he remembered. Then I thought, He’s going to tell me it’s all over. We’re finished.

He seemed so nervous. I thought, Sure, he ought to be nervous. He’s going to tell me it’s all over and maybe he thinks I’ll punch him or something.

“Come on in,” he said.

On the antique side of the room was Mrs. Cheevey, and on the modern side was Mr. Cheevey. When they saw us, they jumped up.

“So who’s going to start?” Mrs. Cheevey said.

We looked at her. Start what?

Then Mrs. Cheevey said, “Okay, okay, okay. Let’s start with Mary Kay. Oooh! A rhyme: Okay, Mary Kay. Ha, ha, ha.”

“It’s Mary Lou,” Alex said.

Then, all of a sudden, I started talking. I was so upset about Carl Ray, I had to tell someone. So I told them all about Carl Ray and Mr. Furtz. I went on and on and on. I told them everything. They kept saying, “Poor Carl Ray,” and “How astonishing,” and “Poor Mr. Furtz,” and on and on.

And after I finished babbling away like an idiot, I felt better.

Then Alex said, “Want to go see my fishing lures?”

The funny thing is Alex really does have a collection of fishing lures. We went out into the garage to look at them, and then it happened. The Big Event.

He KISSED me!!!!

Sighhhhhhhh.

Right there, in the garage, beside the fishing lures. He just leaned over and kissed me. It was simple as anything. Still, I was glad I had practiced. And you know what? It didn’t taste a bit like chicken.

Sighhhh.

After the kiss, we looked at some more fishing lures. It was a little embarrassing, if you want to know the truth. I am sure we were both thinking, Wow! We did it! We kissed. Wow! And there we were saying things like, “Oh that’s a nice lure,” and “Here’s my favorite,” and all that sum and substance. Then, right before we went back into the house, we kissed one more time. I started that one. I figured maybe it was my turn. Is that how it goes?

Sighhhhhh.

Finally Mr. Cheevey took me home, and right after I got home, Carl Ray returned and told everybody at my house his whole, long, sad, complicated story.

I thought they were going to keel over at least a dozen times. Carl Ray didn’t cry again, but everybody kept telling him how sorry they were about Mr. Furtz. It was as if Mr. Furtz had just that very day died all over again. While I was sitting there listening to Carl Ray, I kept looking at my parents and I decided I was going to pay more attention to them from now on. I really am. You know what Carl Ray said? He said, “I’m lucky, actually. I still have a real father.” And we all knew exactly what he meant. Uncle Carl Joe is his real father because, as he says, a father is someone who raises you and takes care of you.

I kept thinking about this time when I was much younger. I was lying in bed one night, feeling really sick. I must have been moaning or something, because my dad came in the room. I told him my stomach was going crazy. He asked me if I was going to throw up, and when I said, “Maybe,” he said I should sit up. And then, before I could even get to the bathroom, I started throwing up, and do you know what he did? He put his hands out to catch it. I threw up right into his hands. And I remember thinking, even though I was only about seven years old at the time, Wow, only a mother or father would do that.

And I’m sure Uncle Carl Joe has done lots of things like that for Carl Ray.

I still can hardly believe yesterday. When I woke up this morning, I had to go back and read last night’s journal entry to be sure I hadn’t imagined all of it.

King of Kings!

I sure had weird dreams last night. In my dreams, everybody kept getting all mixed up and running together. My father turned into Uncle Carl Joe who turned into Mr. Furtz who turned into Mr. Cheevey. Mrs. Cheevey turned into Mrs. Furtz who turned into Aunt Radene.

Beth Ann called here a million times today while Carl Ray was at work. She wanted to know where in the world Carl Ray was last night, and she wanted to know how long he was gone and why he didn’t come over to her house and on and on and on. I didn’t tell her any of the news; I figure Carl Ray will do that soon enough. I just said I wasn’t my cousin’s keeper. That made her mad.

I couldn’t see Alex today (groannnn), but I’ll see him tomorrow.

Sighhhh.

Saw Alex tonight!!! Brain is complete mush as a result!!!

Two more kisses.

I LOVE ALEX CHEEVEY!!!

Alpha and Omega, school starts again in three weeks! How did that happen??? Where has summer gone???

Saw Alex again tonight. Two kisses. Sighhhhhh.

Couldn’t see Alex today, but he invited me to a picnic with his parents on Sunday. He invited Carl Ray too, but Carl Ray got a letter from his other father, Uncle Carl Joe, and Uncle Carl Joe wants him to go home this weekend. He wants to talk to him.

I refused one hundred percent to go along with Carl Ray this time. Dennis is going to go. Poor thing. And I am not going to warn him about snappers or Booger Hill or the outhouse. He wouldn’t believe me anyway, and he might as well find out the hard way.

Beth Ann is a basket case. Carl Ray told her on Tuesday night about Mr. Furtz being his father and all, and Beth Ann called me on Wednesday to ask if it was true. She doesn’t think it’s neat at all. She thinks it’s sort of disgusting, and she told Carl Ray that. So Carl Ray didn’t see her on Wednesday or Thursday.

So then Beth Ann called me about a million times on Wednesday and Thursday to ask why Carl Ray hadn’t called her. Honestly. When I told her that Carl Ray was going to West Virginia this weekend, she started sniffling. How could he do that? How could he? And on and on.

Then she told me that she was going to another GGP pajama party on Saturday. I pretended I didn’t hear.

Then she told me she had seen Derek-the-Di-viiiiine. Remember him? Her old gorgeous boyfriend? She saw him at the A&P. He was with a “tacky” girl in a “tacky” pink sweater and a “tacky” pair of slacks.

I had this terrible feeling that Beth Ann is the kind who would drop Carl Ray in a minute and go back to Derek-the-Di-viiiiine. She’d better not, that’s all I can say.

Oh, dreary day. Raining and pouring outside. Carl Ray and Dennis are gone. Mom made me go through all my old school clothes so she could figure out what I would need for, ugh, school in September.

I finished the Odyssey today. Sort of a strange ending.

I’ve started calling Alex “Poseidon (King of the Sea),” because of his fishing lures and all. The only thing is, ole Poseidon doesn’t have a girlfriend (like Antony and Cleopatra, etc.), so Alex was having trouble trying to think up a nickname for me. I told him I wouldn’t mind being called “Athene,” because, after all, she is a goddess. Heh.

My brain is three hundred percent mush—partly from being with Alex and partly from being with the Cheeveys all day. I’ll tell about it tomorrow.

So. I’ll start with yesterday. Lordie, Lordie.

We all went to Windy Rock. Alex and I took a long walk and climbed up to the actual Windy Rock. We found a place in the grass, and it was so nice there just sitting in the grass, with this little wind blowing all around us and the sky real clear and the sun warm on our arms and legs.

Sighhhhh.

So, let’s see. Carl Ray and Dennis got back from their trip. You should have heard Dennis talking about it. He liked the outhouse just about as much as I did, and while he was there, he went swimming in the swimming hole and Lee Bob scared him talking about the “snapper,” and sure enough, John Roy took Dennis up Booger Hill, and sure enough, John Roy took him all the way up to the cabin, and sure enough, when they got there John Roy started screaming, “Convict!” and took off and Dennis got lost. Dennis also said that Carl Ray drove like a maniac and they were lucky to get home alive. Does all of this sound familiar?

I asked Carl Ray about his father (the Uncle Carl Joe one). He said everything was much, much better. Carl Ray told Uncle Carl Joe what he had told us about being lucky that he still had a real father. And Uncle Carl Joe said he was happy to hear that and he would always be there when Carl Ray needed him.

Then Carl Ray wanted to know if Beth Ann had called, so I told him all about her eight million calls. Carl Ray went to the cemetery again last night, and he must have come home very late, because I didn’t even hear him come in.

At dinner tonight, Carl Ray casually mentioned that Mrs. Furtz had asked him if he would like to live with them.

Now, you know what? A month ago, if someone had asked Carl Ray to leave our house and go live elsewhere, I would have jumped up and down for joy; I would have turned cartwheels; I would have been as happy as a clam in seaweed. But the funny thing is when Carl Ray said that about Mrs. Furtz asking him to go live there, I was mad at her. Who does she think she is, all of a sudden deciding to take Carl Ray like that? And what about Uncle Carl Joe? How would Mrs. Furtz feel if somebody decided to just up and take Cathy or Barry or little David away?

People just don’t think sometimes.

1) I didn’t see Alex. He had to work all day.

2) Carl Ray broke up with Beth Ann!

3) I found out what GGP means: Girls Going Places. Imagine. How dumb.

Christy called me today and asked me if I’d like to come to a GGP pajama party on Saturday night. She said it was only for members and a few girls who were “under consideration.” I said I was busy. I don’t think I would have said that two months ago, but something has happened to me this summer.

I didn’t see Alex today because he and his father went fishing after work.

I LOVE ALEX CHEEVEY!!! He sent me a red rose with a card that said, “To Athene, from Poseidon.”

I think I am losing my brains.

Carl Ray still hasn’t decided about moving in with the Furtzes.

Went to the movies with Alex. That’s what I call heaven.

Sighhhhhh.

Beth Ann went to the GGP pajama party. Big deal.

Carl Ray told Mrs. Furtz today that he wasn’t going to move in with them!

Beth Ann called to tell me that Derek-the-Di-viiiiine came over to her house after dinner. She also said to be sure and tell Carl Ray. I didn’t.

Oh, nooooooo.

I’m dyyyyying.

Alex and I broke up (I think).

It happened like this (groannnn): We went to the park after dinner. Then we walked home to my house. Then he said good-bye. What? No kiss? He started walking away.

That’s why I think we broke up.

I’m dyyyyying.

No word from Alex. I am truly dying. I can’t breathe.

And stupid ole Beth Ann wormed her way back into Carl Ray’s heart. They’re back together. Lucky them. I’m realllll happy. I really am.

Christy called today to say I had only one more chance to come to a GGP pajama party. I said, “Very big deal.” She got mad and hung up.

I’m becoming a rotten person.

Today the florist delivered another rose from Poseidon!

When I got the rose and the card, I tried to call Alex, but his mother said he was at work. So I said, “Please tell him that Athene called.”

She said, “I thought this was Mary Lou.”

“It is,” I said.

“Oh. So I’ll tell Alex you called.”

“Well, no. Could you tell him that Athene called?”

“Isn’t this Mary Lou?”

Groannnnnnn.

Alex called when he got home. He said, “My mother said that you called but that you were all mixed up and didn’t even know your own name.”

Huh.

I thanked him for the rose and the card. Then I took a deep breath and asked him why he didn’t kiss me the other night. And do you know what he said? He said he forgot! He forgot?

Boys.

Well. What a strange evening.

I don’t exactly know how this happened, but Alex and I went out with Beth Ann and Carl Ray tonight. We went to play miniature golf.

It was a three-kiss evening. Sighhhhhh.

Carl Ray said, when he and I got home, “You’re okay, Mary Lou.”

Hmmm.

I can’t seem to write any more. Muse? Where have you gone?

Today Alex and I sorted out his fishing lures and cleaned their garage. That won’t sound very interesting to you, but you’ve never seen their garage! It’s filled with all kinds of amazing stuff: old wooden skis, pogo sticks, a five-foot-high stuffed bear, a cardboard igloo, two mannequins (man and woman), a box of wigs, a fake palm tree, a parachute, a framed picture of a groundhog, a collection of mounted eels, a tuba, and on and on and on.

We called Carl Ray from Alex’s house to see if he and Beth Ann wanted to go out again, but Carl Ray said he had to talk to Beth Ann about something, and he thought he’d better do it alone!

Alex and I tried to guess what that was all about. We had two ideas: Maybe Carl Ray is going to ask her to marry him (unlikely), or maybe Carl Ray is going to break up with her (why?).

Carl Ray still isn’t home, so I don’t know yet what that was all about. I left a note on his dresser that said, “Carl Ray, you’re okay. P.S. It’s a rhyme! From M.L.”

The worst, worst, worst thing has happened.

Carl Ray is in the hospital.

We got the call at three this morning. He had been at Beth Ann’s, then he went to the cemetery, and then he was driving home and ran off the road and into a ditch and his car flipped right over.

You know what I thought when we got the call? I thought, “Snapper!” It scares me half to death, that something can happen just like that.

Carl Ray is unconscious. He has two broken legs, one broken arm and some broken ribs.

We spent all day at the hospital. The nurses only let Mom and Dad in the room. It’s real bad. Dad sent a telegram to Aunt Radene. I don’t feel much like writing.

I hope Carl Ray is going to be all right.

Please, gods, let Carl Ray be all right. He’s still unconscious. Please don’t let his time be up.

Aunt Radene, Uncle Carl Joe, all their kids, Mrs. Furtz and her kids, and all of us were at the hospital today. Everyone is praying like mad for Carl Ray to wake up.

I got to go in for five minutes today and see him. He looks so pitiful, lying there all pale and bruised and his plastered-up legs and arm sticking out and these tubes jabbed into him. I talked to him as if he could hear me. I said, “Carl Ray, you just have to wake up, because all these people need you to wake up. I have a feeling, Carl Ray, that a lot of these people still have some things to say to you.” And then I told him what I had to say. I apologized for every rotten thing I ever did to him or said about him. I told him he was pretty okay.

Then, when I was back in the waiting room, I kept thinking of the way Carl Ray grins sometimes, and all those presents Carl Ray bought everyone, and Carl Ray saying, “Mary Lou, you’re okay,” and I kept thinking about that note I left on his dresser that he never even saw.

Carl Ray is not okay. He won’t wake up, and the doctors told Aunt Radene and Uncle Carl Joe today that he might not ever wake up. How can such a thing like this happen?

I can’t write about it.

Uncle Carl Joe sits by Carl Ray’s bed all day and all night. He won’t leave. Mrs. Furtz invited Aunt Radene and all my cousins to stay at their house because we don’t have much room. In a way, I’m glad that Mr. Furtz isn’t alive to see what has happened to Carl Ray.

I read back over all these journals today. All those awful things I said about Carl Ray. I only hope that Carl Ray knows that I didn’t mean them and that it wasn’t his fault that I was being so insensitive. I was only starting to see all the good things about him when this happened. Most of those things that used to make me mad about Carl Ray (the way he didn’t ever talk and the way he snuck up on you and how much he ate and the way he didn’t make his bed) are the things that I most like to remember now—not just the good things, like the way he held Tommy’s hand that day at the funeral parlor and how he told Tommy all about God coming to get Mr. Furtz’s soul, and always driving me places, and never saying a mean word about anyone, and bringing me back home from West Virginia early just because I was homesick, and on and on.

Those other things that used to drive me crazy are just part of Carl Ray, and once you get used to him, you wouldn’t expect him to be any different. Suppose he did make up his bed and suppose he clomped around so you could hear him coming and suppose he ate like a bird and suppose he talked on and on like Beth Ann? Would those things be very important? Do they really matter? Remember Carl Ray acting like a monster, running around making funny noises? And can’t you hear Carl Ray saying, “Don’t rightly know”? Does anyone else say that? Isn’t it just like Carl Ray?

Carl Ray is still unconscious.

I read back through the journals again. When I was writing them, I thought I noticed everything. I was keeping a record. But I didn’t notice diddly-squat. I didn’t even notice anything about Carl Ray being homesick or Carl Ray and Mr. Furtz, or how he felt after Mr. Furtz died. How could a person like me go along and go along, feeling just the same from day to day, and then all of a sudden look back and see that I didn’t see much of anything? And that I’ve been changing all along? I don’t even recognize myself when I read back over these pages.

Once my father told me that bad things happen sometimes to remind us we are mortal and to remind us to appreciate people more. We’re not like Zeus or Athene, who can live forever and help people out of trouble.

I told Alex today that the awful thing about starting to like people was that if something happens to them, there is nothing you can do to make everything like it was before, and all the time you keep thinking of the things you wish you had said or done.

Alex said, “So does that mean you shouldn’t like people?”

And even though I didn’t know I thought this, I said, “Well, of course not! That’s just the way it is. If you didn’t let yourself like people, you’d shrivel up.”

“Exactly,” he said. “Exactly.” One kiss.

Aunt Radene says that you just have to do your best to make the world a better place. I said I wasn’t so sure I could make the world a better place, and she said, “Oh, you already have, Mary Lou, you already have.”

How does a person ever know that for sure?

Beth Ann told me today that when Carl Ray came to see her that night, before he had the accident, he told her that he was moving back to West Virginia. And then he went to see Mr. Furtz in the cemetery. Beth Ann was all upset because she had had a big fight with Carl Ray when he said he was moving. Now she wishes she could take back everything she said. I told her that I was sure Carl Ray knew she didn’t mean it, that she only said those things because she would miss him.

Alex visited Carl Ray in the hospital today, and he took Carl Ray a fishing lure. He told Carl Ray (even though Carl Ray is still unconscious and couldn’t hear him) that he would take him fishing when he woke up.

Carl Ray must like fishing, because he woke up today! You’ve never seen a happier bunch of people in your life than Aunt Radene and Uncle Carl Joe and all my cousins, and my whole family, and the Furtzes and Alex and Beth Ann and all the nurses who have been taking care of Carl Ray.

You know what Carl Ray said when his father asked him how he was feeling? He said, “Don’t rightly know.” Uncle Carl Joe said that that was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.

Athene has just swooped down and anointed Carl Ray and saved him from being thrashed around in the sea. What a relief!

What a terrific day!

Carl Ray is smiling all over the place now, getting better every minute. Uncle Carl Joe still sits by his bed all day long, watching Carl Ray and talking to him.

I was allowed to visit Carl Ray for five minutes today, and I gave him the note that I had put on his dresser, the one about him being okay. He pointed to the bedpan and said, “Do you think I could borrow your socks for the pee pot?” Carl Ray’s getting a sense of humor. His wheel of fortune is spinning around to the top again.

I received a letter from school today with a list of my courses for next year—ack, next week! My English teacher is Mr. Birkway. He must be new, because I’ve never heard of him. So a complete stranger is going to read this journal and know all about our odyssey. Let’s hope he is understanding and doesn’t put red marks all over everything.

Carl Ray’s better every day. He’s coming home next week, and we’ve been busy decorating his room with signs. Aunt Radene and Uncle Carl Joe and all my cousins are going back to West Virginia today, although you can tell they don’t really want to leave without Carl Ray, but he can’t travel yet. When he’s ready, Dad will take him back to West Virginia.

Carl Ray is hobbling all around the hospital already. He asks all the nurses to sign his casts. I think he’s becoming more outgoing. Who would have imagined? That Carl Ray is full of surprises.

I decided to end this journal tomorrow. I only have a couple of pages left in this little blue book anyway (this is the sixth blue book I’ve used this summer). I asked Beth Ann and Alex if they did their journals. Alex said he only started his when he went to Michigan (I wonder if he wrote anything about me in it???), and Beth Ann said she thought she’d start it today! I know I wrote too much, but maybe I won’t turn it in anyway. I’m not sure I want a total stranger to read this.

Our family went to Windy Rock today with the Cheeveys and the Furtzes and Beth Ann. What a day. We were all feeling sorry that Carl Ray was still in the hospital and wasn’t able to come too, but Mrs. Cheevey said we would call it Carl Ray Day (“Ooh, a rhyme!”) and she would take pictures and show them to Carl Ray, and when he gets out of the hospital, we could all go again.

I’m sure by now you can imagine all these people clumped together at Windy Rock and you can imagine Mrs. Cheevey darting all around and Beth Ann talking her head off and my brothers climbing trees and me and Alex sneaking off for one little kiss (well, heck!). So I don’t have to write all that down.

I just want to say one more time that Carl Ray is okay!

I was trying to remember how Homer finished off the Odyssey, so I just read the ending again. It’s a little corny, with Athene telling everyone to make peace, but I can’t think of a better ending.

Sigh.

Summer’s over.

Alpha and Omega!!