The 25¢ Miracle Page 7

  “Well, that’s good. And how’s your garden coming along?”

  “It’s doin’ all right, I think. I’m doin’ like you told me about the water and everything.”

  “Good girl. I knew you would. I’ll tell you why I called, Elvira. I was just wondering if you might be able to do me a little favor?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I’d be glad to,” Elvira answered without hesitation. She would have done a lot more than a little favor for Miss Ivy.

  Miss Ivy laughed. “Well, that’s awfully nice of you, Elvira, but wait a minute, now. You haven’t heard what it is yet.”

  “That’s all right. It don’t matter what it is. I’ll do it.”

  “Thank you, sweetheart. I really appreciate that. But don’t worry—this isn’t anything too hard. I was just hoping that you might be able to spend some time with the boys this afternoon and then maybe stay for dinner this evening. Do you think you could do that?”

  “Well, sure, Miss Ivy, but—but that ain’t no favor.”

  “Oh, yes, it is. You see, I’m afraid the boys are feeling sort of low today, and I thought maybe you could cheer them up a little.”

  “Are they sick?”

  “No, no, not a bit. They’re just disappointed; it’s their father who’s sick. He called early this morning. You know, today was the day he was supposed to come pick them up and take them over to Houston with him, and they’ve really been counting on it. But it looks as if their trip will have to be postponed indefinitely now—until he’s well and can get some more time off.” There was just a hint of irritation in Miss Ivy’s voice. Elvira wondered if the boys’ daddy was really sick. Somehow, she doubted it. I knew he was no-account, she told herself. I knew it all along. Poor old Curtis—I bet he’s takin’ it hard.…

  Aloud she said, “Well, I’ll be glad to go see ’em.”

  “Oh, good. That’s so nice of you. I just hated it that I had to go to work today. Of course, Mrs. McFaddin is there with them, but I’d feel so much better knowing that they had you there, too.”

  Elvira tingled with pride. Did Miss Ivy think as much of her as all that? “What time should I go over?” she asked.

  “Whatever’s convenient for you. I surely do appreciate it, Elvira. I’ve got to run now—people are starting to come in—but I’ll see you at suppertime, all right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Thanks again. ’Bye, Elvira.”

  “’Bye, Miss Ivy.”

  Elvira hung up the receiver and started walking back to the trailer. She felt better than she had felt since Hank had broken the news about Aunt Darla. Talking to Miss Ivy always made her feel better. She was such a nice lady—it was a real shame that she had married someone so jerkified. Elvira wondered if she’d ever get married again. It might be nice for those boys if she did.…

  It was then that it hit her. The inspiration. Pure-D inspiration—manna from heaven—the Holy Ghost Himself, maybe… Whatever it was, it hit her so hard that she almost fell down right there in front of the man with the Adam’s apple, who was standing in the doorway of the trailer park office, blowing smoke rings. Elvira started trembling all over. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. Her eyebrows began to sweat. She wouldn’t have been all that surprised if she had started speaking in tongues.

  She managed, somehow, to get back to the trailer. Then her legs wouldn’t hold her up anymore, so she sat down shakily in the dirt beside her garden, closed her eyes, and breathed a fervent prayer: “Dear God, I take back everything I ever said about Noreen Able.”

  10

  It was all so simple, really. The simplest thing in the world.

  All she had to do was introduce Miss Ivy to Hank. Once he met her, he’d be sure to fall in love with her. He couldn’t help it—nobody could—and then they wouldn’t need Aunt Darla anymore. What Hank had said about Aunt Darla being family and the Trumbulls not needing any outsiders—well, what if Miss Ivy was family? What if Hank and Miss Ivy were to get married? She’d be family then!

  Oh, yes, it was the answer to everything, for everybody.

  Hank would be happy. Elvira was sure of that. And it would be good for Miss Ivy, too. A lady pretty as she was ought to have a husband to look out for her and be nice to her, and Hank could be nice as pie when he was in a good mood. And he wasn’t bad-looking, either—Elvira had never given it much thought before, but it was important now—well, sure, he wasn’t bad-looking at all. He’d be kind of a John Wayne type if he just lost a little weight. And those boys needed a daddy—no question about that. That old guy in Houston didn’t count for much, as far as Elvira could tell. And as for Elvira herself—

  Well. The thought of having Miss Ivy for a mother was so sweet that it almost hurt to think it.

  She just had to figure some way to get them together. That shouldn’t be too hard.… She’d ask Miss Ivy over to dinner—that’s what she’d do. A real romantic dinner with candlelight and all, like she’d seen in those magazines over at the U-Totem. She wouldn’t ask Hank if it was all right; she’d just do it, and then tell him about it when it was too late for him to say no. It was for his own good; he’d thank her for it later on, even if he hollered about it at the time. There was the question of money, of course, but she could work that out. Hank had tired of doing all the grocery shopping and was trusting it to her again sometimes. Oh, she could do it—she really could—and if she got Hank and Miss Ivy off on the right foot, well, then, everything else would just naturally fall into place. It had to.

  Elvira’s head was still spinning. Come on now, girl, she told herself. You ain’t got time to faint and fall out. You got things to do. She pulled herself up on her feet and went inside the trailer. It was lunchtime, but she couldn’t eat a bite. She was full already—full to overflowing. It felt as if she had swallowed the sun. It crossed her mind that the Holy Ghost must have an awful lot of thin friends. Anyway, she figured that she ought to be getting over to Miss Ivy’s pretty soon. She washed her face and hands and was about to go back outside when Hank got home. He looked worn out. He hadn’t been looking too good for the last few days, as a matter of fact, and he was quieter than ever. Elvira hadn’t really paid it any mind before, but now it worried her. She was going to have to think of some way to spruce him up for the dinner party.…

  “You fixin’ to go somewhere?” he asked her, as he sat down wearily at the kitchen table. Every movement seemed to cost him a great effort.

  “Yessir.”

  “Well, where you off to?”

  “Miss Ivy’s. She asked me to go play with her little boys. I’m s’posed to stay for supper.”

  Hank lifted his head and looked as if this was somehow surprising, but when he spoke, his voice was flat and tired sounding. “You never told me she had kids.”

  “I didn’t? Well, I meant to. I guess I just never thought of it,” said Elvira. “They’re—they’re real nice boys,” she added, as an afterthought. It couldn’t hurt to get started on her campaign right away. “Their daddy lives over in Houston. Miss Ivy and him’s divorced. That’s too bad, ain’t it?”

  “Hmmm?” Hank didn’t seem to be paying good attention.

  “I said Miss Ivy’s divorced. Ain’t that too bad?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I guess…”

  Hank appeared to be done talking, so Elvira moved toward the door again. “Well, ’bye,” she said.

  “Elvira,” he called to her when she was halfway out.

  “Yessir?” she answered, coming back in again.

  “Are you feelin’ all right about—well, are you feelin’ all right now?”

  Elvira reddened. She knew what he meant. He meant had she gotten used to the idea of going to Aunt Darla’s. Well, the truth was, she really was feeling just fine now. A little trembly, still, but it was a good kind of trembly. But there was no way she could explain to him that the reason was that she knew she wouldn’t be going to Aunt Darla’s. No way she could explain that now—not yet. So all she said was, “Yessir, I—I f
eel all right.”

  “Well. That’s good. That’s real good. You go on now.”

  Hank watched her run outside. She really did look like she was feeling better today. She looked—right pert, he thought. He figured that she must have thought it over and seen that she’d be a lot better off without her crotchety old man. She’s got a lot more sense than I give her credit for, Hank told himself.

  But somehow, this didn’t make him feel as glad as it ought to have. All he felt was a kind of dull ache. Probably just some kind of acid in my stomach, he decided. Been drinkin’ too much coffee, I guess.…

  If Elvira hadn’t been all of eleven years old, she would have skipped the whole way to Miss Ivy’s. She felt that good. Let’s see now, she thought. This is Monday.… If Miss Ivy comes over on, say, Friday night, that’d still leave two weeks before Aunt Darla’s s’posed to get here. How long does it take for people to fall in love, anyhow? It don’t usually take more than a half hour on television.… I guess two weeks ought to be plenty long enough.

  Curtis and John David were sitting out in the front yard when Elvira got to Miss Ivy’s. A rush of affection swept over Elvira when she saw them; they were going to be her little brothers someday. But it didn’t seem as if they were all that overjoyed to see her. They looked as dismal as the day after Christmas.

  “Hey, boys! How’re y’all doin’?” Elvira called out cheerfully.

  “Terrible,” said John David. John David hadn’t learned how to lie yet.

  “Aw, we’re all right,” said Curtis, who had. “He’s just in a bad mood.”

  “Whatd’ya mean I’m in a bad mood?” cried John David. “You’re in a badder mood than me. You’re in the baddest mood I ever saw!” He turned sorrowfully to Elvira. “It’s ’cause we didn’t get to go to Astroworld. Our daddy won’t take us.”

  “Will you just shut up, John David?” Curtis hollered. “That’s not anybody else’s business. And anyhow, it’s not that Daddy won’t take us—he just can’t take us, that’s all. He’s sick—he can’t help that.”

  Sure, thought Elvira. I’ll bet. But aloud she said, “Well, what are we gonna do this afternoon, anyway? I came over to play with y’all.”

  Elvira thought she heard Curtis mutter something that sounded suspiciously like “Who cares?” but she chose to ignore this. If she was going to be a big sister, she might as well do it right and not start off by fighting.

  “We could play Voltron,” John David said hopefully. He looked as if he had had just about enough of being depressed.

  “I’m sick of Voltron,” said Curtis.

  “Well, what about Orcs and Mighty Warriors?” John David suggested. “You can be a Mighty Warrior, if you want to, and Elvira and me’ll be the Orcs.”

  “I’m sick of that, too,” Curtis said. “I’m sick of everything.”

  “Aw, c’mon, Curtis,” said Elvira, “you really are in a bad mood. I’ll tell you what we can do. I’ll go set up the sprinkler and y’all can get on your bathing suits and run around in the water. What about that?”

  “Oh, yeah, that’d be great!” cried John David. “Wouldn’t that be great, Curtis?” He looked anxiously at his brother.

  Curtis shrugged his shoulders. The others took this for a positive sign, all things considered, and in a little while the boys were laughing and shrieking and having the time of their lives.

  When they finally tired of running around in the water, Elvira turned off the sprinkler, and they all spread towels on the grass and lay down in the sun.

  “You ever been to Astroworld, Elvira?” Curtis asked quietly, after a while. He didn’t sound so dismal anymore. Just thoughtful.

  “Uh-uh,” said Elvira. “My daddy and me—we just never got around to it.” She glanced sideways at Curtis and then went on, in an off-handed manner, “I expect we will sometime, though. My daddy takes me a lot of places.”

  “It’s really fine over there,” Curtis continued, in the same dreamy tone. “They got this roller coaster called the Texas Cyclone. There’s this man who’s supposed to know all about roller coasters—that’s all he does—travels around the world going from one roller coaster to another. And he says the Texas Cyclone is the best one of all.”

  “I might be tall enough to ride it this year,” said John David. “I was almost tall enough last year, and I’ve growed a whole bunch since then.”

  “Aw, John David—you were tall enough last year, don’t you remember? You were just too scared.”

  “I wasn’t either scared. I really wanted to ride it; my head didn’t come up to that cardboard cowboy’s hand, that’s all.”

  “All right, all right, if you say so,” said Curtis, rolling his eyes at Elvira. He was silent for a while. Then he turned over on his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows. “You know there were two people who got married on a roller coaster one time?”

  “Naw…”

  “I swear—they had their picture in the paper and everything. My daddy cut it out. He likes roller coasters a whole lot, too. You shoulda seen it. The bride’s veil was flyin’ out in back of her, and the groom was grinnin’ like a nut, and the preacher was sittin’ backward on the seat in front of ’em, hangin’ on for dear life. It was really neat.”

  “Sounds crazy to me,” said Elvira, but she smiled and tried to imagine Hank and Miss Ivy on that roller coaster.

  “I think I’ll get married on a roller coaster,” said John David. “I mean, when I’m tall enough.”

  “Not me,” said Curtis. “I’d like the roller coaster part all right, but I’m not ever gettin’ married.”

  “You might change your mind someday,” said Elvira. “I mean, if you found the right person…”

  “Not me,” Curtis insisted. “Not ever. No way.”

  Everybody was quiet again for a few minutes. Elvira was trying to decide if this would be a good time to start easing the boys into her plan.

  “You know,” she began tentatively, after a minute or two had passed, “your mama might get married again someday. Maybe to somebody real nice.”

  “Like who?” said Curtis, a little belligerently.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Just somebody…”

  “I hope it’s somebody real, real nice,” said John David. “Somebody who’ll take us to Disneyland and buy me a horse.”

  “There ain’t nobody that nice,” Elvira said. “Anyhow, that ain’t just nice. That’s rich.”

  “Well, it’d be okay if he was rich,” said John David.

  “Aw, John David, you don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” said Curtis. “We don’t want Mama gettin’ married again. That’s nothin’ but trouble. You just don’t remember.”

  “I do too remember. Why are you always sayin’ I don’t remember? I remember just as good as you do. I remember the time Mama threw the tomato and everything.”

  “You don’t tell stuff like that,” Curtis growled. “That’s private.”

  “I can tell what I want, Curtis Alexander. You’re not the boss of me. It was real funny, Elvira—Mama got real mad at Daddy and she threw this big old tomato at him and it splatted all over the kitchen and then they got divorced.”

  “You know, John David, you got a big mouth for a little kid,” his brother informed him darkly.

  “I’m not little,” said John David, with dignity. “I’m just short.”

  The rest of the afternoon passed comfortably enough. Elvira avoided any further mention of the possibility of Miss Ivy’s remarriage, and the boys seemed to forget all about it. They’re just not ready to think about it yet, Elvira decided. But they’ll come around.

  The three of them were in the front yard playing Swing the Statue when Miss Ivy’s car pulled into the driveway.

  “Hello, everybody! Have you all had a good day?” she called as she climbed out.

  The boys ran to meet her, but Elvira held back, a little shyly. She was looking at Miss Ivy with brand-new eyes. She had thought she was plenty pretty before, but now she could see
that she was more than pretty. She was perfect. Absolutely perfect, no matter how many tomatoes she had thrown at her no-account husband.

  Elvira waited until she thought the moment was just right to invite Miss Ivy over for Friday night. The supper things had all been cleared away, and the boys had disappeared somewhere in the back of the house.

  “Well, I guess we’d better be getting you home,” Miss Ivy was saying. “It must be late.”

  “Uh, Miss Ivy,” Elvira began, with her heart in her mouth, “I was just wonderin’—I mean, me and my daddy—we was both wonderin’—if you could come over to the trailer for dinner this Friday.”

  Miss Ivy looked surprised. “Well, that’s awfully nice of you—but, sweetheart, you don’t owe me a dinner.”

  “No, ma’am, it ain’t that. We—we really would like for you to come—my daddy and me. We’re both countin’ on it. It ain’t no trouble atall; I got it all planned out.” She looked up earnestly at Miss Ivy.

  “Well, then, of course I’ll come,” said Miss Ivy, smiling. “I’d be honored.”

  Elvira breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. I’m real glad. I’m sorry we cain’t ask the boys this time; the trailer’s kind of small.”

  She wanted Hank to see Miss Ivy all by herself, this first time, so that he’d get the full impact. He could meet the boys another time, she figured. Friday night, there couldn’t be any spilt milk or little kids’ arguments clouding up the picture. Friday night, everything had to be perfect.

  11

  There was so much to do.…

  Elvira spent all of Tuesday morning sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the magazine rack at the U-Totem, poring over every magazine that had a food section. She had to find the ideal menu for the dinner party—something delicious and exciting and unforgettable and cheap. Cheap, mainly. That pretty well eliminated some of her first choices: “crown roast of lamb” and “brandied steak” and “roast loin of pork St. Cloud”.… Elvira loved the sound of that last one, especially. “St. Cloud”… But she had seen the meat prices at Kroger. Hamburger Helper was more her speed.