30. Nonnie hadn’t spoken to Dean since the social worker’s visit. Dean knew that he had to apologize, but he also knew that he wasn’t good at that sort of thing. Communication had never been his strong suit. He liked cars better than people for that very reason. The car told him whatever he needed to know, so all he had to do was pass that information on to the customer and fix the problem. If only he could handle people the way he handled cars, maybe he’d still be married. She came back early with her bag of cans. He left the fuel pump job he was working on and shuffled over to her with his hands in his pockets. “Nonnie...” he cleared his throat. “...um, I think I screwed up.” She sniffed in his general direction. “No, really?” Oh, he was in trouble, all right. He wasn’t used to sarcasm from this woman. “I meant well. I was worried about you with Willie gone.” “So you ratted me out to the goons.” She stood with her arms folded, small but mighty in her baggy mismatched clothes and her fuzzy blue slippers. Dean had the sensation of shrinking to the size of an eight-year-old. “Gee, here’s a radical thought for you,” she continued. “How about asking? ‘Nonnie, are you doing okay out here by yourself? Are you worried? Are you scared?’” Boy, the toes of his shoes were dusty. He scratched his beard nervously and looked back up. “So...are you?” “Am I what?” “Whatever...scared...are you okay?” “I’m just fine, thank you, other than my income just got drastically cut.” “Getting half as many cans?” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, you really are an idiot, aren’t you? Willie’s disability check!” He scratched his beard again. “Willie got a disability check?” “You surely don’t think we survived solely on aluminum cans!” “Well...” “And you run a business? Really? No wonder your wife left you for that plumber.” His eyes flew open. “How did you know about that?” he demanded. She almost chuckled at that. “How could I not know? You’re like everybody else. If someone looks scruffy or poor, you’ll talk about anything right in front of them and assume they don’t understand or just aren’t listening. Well, I listen. I’ve got very good hearing, thank you. And I understand just fine. And I talk to other people who hear things the same way. You’d be amazed what you can learn from the janitor at the courthouse.” Dean chewed on that thought for a moment, wondering how many other people around town knew the details of his divorce. Returning to the original subject he asked, “Are you scared out here by yourself?” She shook her head. “Dean, pull up a chair and let me explain something.” By “chair” she meant “bucket”. They both sat on overturned five-gallon buckets in front of the storage shed. “I loved my brother. I loved my brother dearly. He was a kind, sweet, gentle man who never wanted to harm another human being. And that was his undoing. He should have been born into a wealthy family where he could go to college and study poetry. He wasn’t. The boys at school beat him up for being different. Our dad beat him up at home just for existing. Then he got drafted and sent to Vietnam. You don’t want to know the things that happened to him there; you’d have nightmares. When he got back he tried -- he really did. But he couldn’t hold down a job, and eventually nobody would give him a chance. I got him declared disabled. It wasn’t enough, so I worked and supported him. I promised him -- “ Here she choked up. She looked away until she could continue. “I promised him that I would take care of him, no matter what. I kept my promise. I couldn’t date because men didn’t understand about him. Nobody was going to love me enough to want to take on Willie. I figured that out early on. But I made my commitment and I stuck to it. And now he’s gone and that’s over. I don’t have to do it anymore. I don’t owe anything to anybody. I can do as I please. “No, I’m not scared. Why should I be? I padlock the door on the inside at night. The windows are small, and I keep them covered. I figure I’m just as safe here as in an apartment, probably safer. And I don’t have neighbors’ noise at night to put up with.” She stopped and the tears returned. This time one trickled down her weathered cheek. “But I’m not going to be able to stay here, am I? They know I’m here now. How are you going to put the toothpaste back into the tube?” “I don’t know,” he said sheepishly. “I always heard that social workers were overworked, but that Grisham woman keeps calling me, trying to arrange to take you someplace to be evaluated. I’d think she’d have to check up on foster kids or something.” “Social workers are horribly overworked,” she informed him. “This is personal. And I probably made it that way, quoting Nietzsche at her. She probably had to go home and look him up.” “Um...Who’s that, anyway?” She sighed and recited, “Friedrich Nietzsche, nineteenth century German philosopher, big on self-affirmation and questioning socially prevalent views and all that. Irrelevant.” Waving her hand impatiently she got to the point. “The important thing is that I knew something she didn’t. Some people can’t handle that, especially from someone they view as inferior.” “So how do you know this stuff?” “I read. Where do you think I go on rainy days?” “I don’t know.” Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a small wallet, from which she drew a plastic card. She held it up for him to see; it was a library card. “See this?” He nodded. “This,” she said solemnly, “is the magical key of knowledge. There is no limit to what a person can learn with this little beauty.” Dean looked at the card, then at the wrinkled face. He had always known Nonnie wasn’t stupid, but he had clearly never given her enough credit. “Just for the record,” she added, putting the card away, “That Grisham creature can’t put me away. She’d have to prove me a threat to myself or others, and that’s not going to happen. She can, however, make me move. There’s a zoning and code issue.” He caught himself scratching his beard again, realizing that that was becoming a nervous habit. “How do you know that?” She responded, “The Arkansas State Legal Code is available online. So are the city zoning and code regulations.” “You use the internet? How?” “At the library, of course.” Dean stood up and promised her, “Miss Lucas, don’t worry. I got us into this, and I’ll get us out of it.”
Posted on: Thu, 17 Oct 2013 15:44:49 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015