Counting On It

So far, Huck and Dewey Strait, are trying to survive under the abuse of their father, Matthew Strait. Dewey is starting to confront his father while Huck is trying to hide his feelings for Miss Lynn.

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After we get through with chores, I leave Dewey outside while I fetch some water for us. It's almost as hot inside as it is out here. The days are turning to dog days. The heat sapping our strength, and wilting everything around. I think about fall. That's my favorite time of year. The days are shorter, but there is usually a nip in the air and the smell of rotting leaves and smoke from chimneys makes me smile. I think even the animals are happier in the fall. There ain't so many biting flies and their thirst is abated sooner rather than later. Momma cooks up squash and bacon, and makes pies with apples that are juicy and tart.

I carry two mason jars of water out to where Dewey is sitting on a hay bale. He's humming like he ain't got a care in the world. "Here," I say, handing him one of the jars.

"Thanks," he says, rubbing his thumb across the sweat that's collected on the outside of the glass.

"That was real stupid, challenging him last night."

Dewey shrugs and takes a long drink. "Won't no challenge. Just telling him some interesting facts. That's all." He stares off into the distance.

I look into the colored part of his eyes. The cool green of his eyes makes me think about Miss Lynn and how much I miss her. I look down at the tepid water in my jar. "He's gonna come after you. You know that, don't you?"

Dewey shrugs, but shifts his gaze to me. "Oh, Huck, I'm counting on it."

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Momma is dusting in the living room. She hums like Dewey, don't even know she's doing it half the time. "Momma, can I ask you a question?"

She puts the rag she was using down and nods. "Of course."

"You believe in love at first sight?"

"No. Not really. Real love takes time. What you're talking about is infatuation. That ain't real love."

I move a bowl from the shelf as she starts to dust again. "How do you know what real love is?"

"I guess you just know." She clutches the rag in her fingers tightly and looks at her hands. "You know when a part a you dies at the thought of losing someone. When an ache won't go away when you are apart."

"Who'd you lose, Momma?"

She looks stricken. Her eyes go wide and she has a fearful look to them. "Hush now. Please, let's not talk about this anymore."

"Is this your secret?"

She frowns, still clutching the rag. "Life is made up of secrets. This one is a secret that you can't ever tell no one. Especially not Dewey. You've got to promise me you ain't never gonna tell your brother."

"I promise."

"Sit." She goes to the window, looking for either Dewey or Daddy, then comes back over to where I wait. "When I met Matthew, I was, well, I was with child." She shakes her head, her hands going to her face, covering it in shame.

"That's nothing to feel bad about, Momma."

"It was another man's child. Matthew is your daddy, not Dewey's," she whispers.

Her words fall like an axe. My heart aches for Dewey, who would never know that he didn't carry Matthew Strait's blood in his veins. He would live his life sharing the burden of the Strait name when that curse was mine alone. "Who was he? Dewey's father, I mean."

She looks up with eyes tired and solemn. "He was the love of my life."

"Why did you marry him, though?"

"God had other plans for me. I got you, Huck. I was blessed with you and your brother."

"Where did Dewey's father go?"

She wipes her hand across her eyes even though no tears have fallen. "Matthew told me that he just said he'd never loved me. He just left without a word."

"He left you with a baby in ya', and didn't bother to say goodbye?" I ask. I feel angry that my poor momma went through. "He won't much of a man, was he?"

"Matthew got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. He said my child would have his last name and then nobody could call him a bastard. Matthew kept my name clean. He made an honest woman out of me."

I feel my hands shaking. Poor momma, so swept up in what could have been, she was willing to forget what it was now.

"Never tell your brother, Huck. I don't want him thinking he's a mistake. God don't make mistakes."

I feel her take my hand in hers. "I promise, Momma. I'll take this to my grave."

She smiles, squeezing my hand gently. "You're a good boy, Huck. I've known it since I first held you in my arms. You're gonna change the world one day."

Her kind words make me feel a hair bit special. It takes a little of the sting out what I know.

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Dinner is almost ready. The dishes and silverware rattling in the kitchen as Momma gets ready to load them up.

"She's one uppity negra," he says. "One day, yes siree, she's gonna get what's coming to her."

"There are other stores, Matthew. Just don't go in there if'n she can't be civil to ya'." Momma says.

"She needs to learn her place."

I wait on the stairs, listening to him threaten the woman I love.

"She accused me of breakin' her windas. Then said I tried to break in her house. Said she seen me, in the middle of the night. Now, you tell me, when was I in town after midnight." He isn't asking Momma, no, he's daring her to answer.

That's where he slipped off to the other night. He's after Miss Lynn. The next time I hear him creeping out, I'm gonna follow him. I'll do whatever it takes to protect Miss Lynn. I'll keep her safe, then she'll know what kind of person I am.