Honeysuckle and Lies

So far, Huck and Dewey Strait are just trying to survive under the abusive hand of their father. Dewey is getting bolder in his plans for revenge, while Huck is quickly falling in love with a beautiful colored woman in town. Their daddy, Matthew, comes home claiming to have been attacked by a wild dog, but deep down, Huck knows it isn't the truth.

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"I need you to run into town and get me some honey. I was thinking about frying up some chicken tonight for dinner." Momma leans over to put the clean pot from breakfast away. Sweat is staining her shirt and I watch her wipe her brow.

"Why don't you go sit on the porch for a bit, Momma. I'll bring you a glass of cold water," I offer.

She waves her hand and refolds the dishcloth. "You be careful, if'n there is a dog on the loose, take a stick with you."

I get ready to ask her if she truly believes the whole wild dog story, but I guess she has already answered that question when she said "if'n".

After getting her settled on the porch with her glass of water and her Bible, I take the money she gives me and head on down the path. Once I'm far enough down the road, I start looking for any signs of the supposed attack. Ain't so much as a rock kicked up on the road. There ain't no damned dog. Matthew Strait made the whole thing up.

I can smell the honeysuckle that grows by the road. I yank off a big piece and close my eyes as I imagine the smile Miss Lynn will have when I give it to her.

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The bells chime as I push open the door to Dobey's. I don't see Miss Lynn or her momma, when I walk up to the counter. I can hear the baby, Lionel, crying from behind the curtain. There are boards nailed up over two of the side windows. Something terrible must have happened here. I sure hope Miss Lynn and her kids are alright.

I lay the honeysuckle on the counter and ring the little brass bell on the counter.

Miss Lynn's momma steps around the curtain. "We closed," she says gruffly. She is usually friendly but right now she just looks angry. "Now, go on and get."

"Momma needs some honey," I say.

"Are you deaf, boy?"

"Is Miss Lynn here? I brought her some honeysuckle. It smells real sweet."

Miss Lynn comes flying past her momma, takes her hand and smacks the honeysuckle off the counter. "You get out. I don't want you coming here no mo'. You understand me?"

I feel like someone has hit me in the gut with a white hot poker. I ain't never seen her like this. "What's wrong? What'd I do?"

"You're Matthew Strait's boy. You gonna be no good just like your daddy."

Her momma comes over, wrapping her arms around Miss Lynn while she starts to sob.

"I don't understand. Just tell me what he did. I'll make it right. I'll pay for the windas'. I'll work it off. Please, Miss Lynn."

She swoops at me, fingernails digging into my forearm. "You think I'm crying over some damn windas'? Some broken glass?" She pulls me around, behind the counter and pushes back the curtain. "You can't fix this, Huck. He hurt my baby girl. Oh, God, he hurt my little girl." Her grip on my arm falls away and she just stands there, shoulders heaving and tears rolling down unchecked.

I look to see Hester, lying on a cot, a sheet tucked around her and I see the stains on that sheet. Blood stains dotting the white.

Lynn kneels on the floor, still crying. "Can you fix this?" She ain't asking me. She ain't even looking at me. To her, I don't exist anymore.

"I will. I'll kill that son of a bitch. I'll make it right. I promise. I love you Miss Lynn. I'll make it right," I whisper with a rawness in my voice that I can't contain.

Miss Lynn's momma takes my arm and pulls me out of the room where Hester is. She hands me the honey and ushers me to the door. She studies me for a moment and watches me wipe my eyes.

"I do love her. I'll make this right."

"You go home and ask your momma why you can't be in love with her. It ain't got nothing to do with her color neither. You just ask your momma, Huck."

I run, my legs burning and sweat rolling down my body like rain. I near rip the screen door off the hinges when I toss it open to find him. "Where is he?" I yell.

Momma comes out of the kitchen, eyes wide and I know she's frightened.

I can't look at her. Not now, because I know she's gonna make up excuses for him. I won't hear it, not after what I seen. "Where is that sorry, yellow bellied excuse for a human being?"

"Calm down, Huck," she urges, reaching out for me.

"He hurt Miss Lynn's little girl, Momma."

Her eyes widen, and she starts shaking her head. "No, no, Matthew wouldn't hurt no little girl."

"It's true, Momma, I seen it with my own eyes," I choke on the words as they leave my mouth. I can't help but cry. He's ruined another child's life. Miss Lynn ain't never gonna love me back. He's ruined everything."

"She's lying, Huck. Matthew wouldn't do that."

"It's how he got them scratches. Little Hester was fighting him off and Miss Lynn hit him. She shoulda' killed him. She'd a done the world a favor."

My momma's hand flies up and I hardly feel the sting of her slap. "You stop saying that, you hear me. That man saved my good name. He could have walked away, leaving me to raise Dewey alone. He didn't."

"Just cause he saved your name don't give him the right to destroy other people's lives, Momma. He hurt Dewey. Was your good name worth that? He hurt little Hester, how about that?"

She rubs her hands together, but won't look me in the eye. "He's my husband. I'm obligated to stand by him."

I push past her, sickened that she's chosen her place beside him. "Where is he?"

"Out back with Dewey," she whispers.