Running Barefoot - Page 67/95

“Tara!” I turned and glared at her. “Why would you say something like that?”

“What?” She protested. “He was intimidating! He never said two words to anyone, and he always had a scowl on his face. He wore his hair long, and I swear he carried a tomahawk strapped to his leg. I don’t know how you stood it. I would have peed my pants if Mr. Walker had assigned me to sit by him.”

“I liked him,” I said simply. “We actually became friends. He was quiet and kind of intense, but I’ve been accused of that myself.” I looked at Tara pointedly.

“Wasn’t he the guy that clapped in church that one time?” Penny Worwood piped in with her two cents.

Louise whirled around and pointed her comb at me, waving it wildly and dancing around like she had ants in her pants. “It was him! He stood up and clapped for you after you played your solo! At the time, I just thought maybe he was trying to stick it to his grandparents a little, embarrass them, be a smart aleck, ya know? I didn’t realize you two actually knew each other! Woo! Hoo! Man, that was really something when he did that! I still remember the look on your face, Josie Jo! You coulda died and gone straight to heaven right then.”

“So…this Samuel guy…why’s he back in town?” Tara interrupted her mom’s giddy monologue.

“Well, Nettie told me he’s come back to help her and Don get things in order.” Louise responded. “They don’t really have anybody else, ya know, and they’re gettin’ on in years. Tabrina and her husband are no help - those two together are about as smart as a box of rocks.”

“Louise!” I scolded

“Oh okay, Josie. I am bein’ kinda harsh.” She amended with “Tabrina and her husband are about as smart as a box of frogs.” She smirked at me over her right shoulder before she continued.

“Anyhow, this Samuel - and he is a fine specimen now, Tara, no matter what you thought when you were in seventh grade - he’s come back to do some legal work for them, help them get their sheep sold, sell some land, stuff like that. Don’s health isn’t great, and it’s just time to stop workin’ so hard.”

“You said he was doing some legal work for them. Is he some kind of lawyer?” Tara piped in with interest. Lawyers meant money to Tara, and money was number one on the top of her marriage-must- haves.

“No, he’s a Marine.” I volunteered.

“He’s a Marine, all right, but Nettie says the Marines helped pay for his college and then he went to officer’s training, and now he’s going to attend law school. He’s on some kind of leave right now.”

I gasped right out loud. Samuel, becoming a lawyer? I felt a little weak in the knees, and then I felt ridiculously like crying. I was suddenly, euphorically, proud of him. I hadn’t read far enough in the letters obviously, and he’d said nothing about it. But when had he really had the opportunity? Each of our conversations had been riddled with emotional grenades and catching up had just not come up. I felt ashamed that I had asked him so little about himself.

“Earth to Josie!” Tara was waving her hands in my face. “You look like you’re gonna cry, you okay?”

I brushed away her questions, smiled brightly, and wished the day were over. I needed to go find Samuel, regardless of whether or not he believed the “princess was dead.”

Samuel was not home when I knocked on Nettie Yates’ screen door later that evening. I’d baked some cookies as an excuse for stopping by. I’d also filled a basket of vegetables from my garden. Nettie had stopped planting a garden in recent years, complaining that she was just too “brittle to work in the dirt anymore.” It was sweet irony that she had shared with me and my family from her garden for so many years and had shown me how to plant one and care for one, and now I could share my garden’s bounty in return.

Nettie was crocheting something, and she invited me in to sit and chat a minute. “Samuel and Don went to bring the cows down from the mountain early this morning. I didn’t want Don to go; I worry about him sittin’ a saddle all day, but he wouldn’t hear nothin’ of it. I didn’t fight ’im too hard. He’s been bringing the cows home from Mt. Nebo every fall since he was old enough to tie his shoes, and this will probably be the last time. We’re sellin’ off the cattle and the sheep, ya know. Don’s relieved, but it’s hard for him, too. Samuel bein’ here helps take the weight off his shoulders a little.

When Samuel came to live with us all those years ago I didn’t know what to think. He never talked to us much, and he seemed so angry at first. But then slowly he started changin’- don’t really know why, but I’m grateful for it. He’s grown up to be a real good man and a blessing to us now when we need him. He says he’ll stay until we’ve got things buttoned up.”

I was terrible at small talk and didn’t quite know what to say to keep the conversation flowing. I decided I would just come out and ask for the information I sought.

“When will they be back?” I ventured casually.

“Oh they should be pullin’ in any time.” Nettie looked at me curiously.

I changed the subject quickly and asked her if I could do anything for her before I left. She hemmed and hawed, not wanting me to bother, but ended up confessing she needed help with the flower beds in the front yard. Before long, I was on my hands and knees in the dirt. I actually liked pulling weeds. Call me crazy, but there’s something immensely therapeutic about yanking the noxious things from the cool brown soil. I got busy and made short work of the flower bed on one side of the front walk and was working my way down the other when I heard a truck crunching over gravel. I had hoped to be cool and composed when I saw Samuel again. Instead I was on my knees with my rear in the air, pulling dandelions out from among the marigolds.