Eventide

How are Joy Rae and Richie?

Well. Richie he still has him some trouble at school. Like before.

What kind of trouble?

It’s hard to say. He don’t talk about it.

It’s those other kids picking on him all the time, Betty said. They won’t never let him alone.

Why do you think that is?

He don’t do nothing to them. Richie’s a good boy. I don’t know what they got against him.

Have you tried talking to his teacher?

That wouldn’t do no good.

But you might at least try. Maybe she knows what’s going on.

I don’t know.

What about Joy Rae?

Oh, now she’s doing real good, Luther said. She can already read better than me.

Can she?

Better than Betty too. Can’t she, Betty.

Betty nodded.

Better than both of us put together, Luther said.

I’m glad she’s doing so well, Rose said. She’s a smart girl. Rose looked around the room. Snow was melting outside on the roof, dripping down in front of the window. Now I have to ask you about Hoyt, she said. Has he been over here?

No ma’am, Luther said. We don’t want him here. He ain’t welcome with us no more.

You need to insist that he stay away. You understand that, don’t you. He cannot be here.

We don’t want to have nothing to do with him. We ain’t even seen him. Have we, Betty?

We seen him that one time in the grocery.

We seen him that one time in the grocery, but we didn’t talk to him. We never even said how you doing. Just went around the other way, didn’t we?

And we ain’t never going to talk to him again, Betty said. I don’t care what he calls us.

Yes, Rose said. That’s right. She studied them both but couldn’t be sure they were telling the truth. Luther’s great red face was damp with sweat, and Betty looked merely dull and sick, her lifeless hair hanging about her face. Rose looked out into the kitchen. That’s fine, she said, I’m glad Hoyt hasn’t been here, but it has to stay that way. Now I want to talk to you about something else. It’s important for you and for your children that you live in a clean and safe environment. You know that. So you need to do a little better in the house here. Things are not as clean and orderly as they might be. You can do better, don’t you think you can?

I told you I been sick, Rose, Betty said.

I understand that. But Luther can help too, can’t you, Luther.

I already been helping, he said.

You need to do a little more. You can start by keeping the dishes washed. And by emptying the trash. You need to take that bag of pop cans out. They’ll attract bugs.

In winter? Luther said.

It’s possible.

Well somebody might steal my cans if I put them outside.

You can keep them on the porch.

I can’t see how they’re going to collect no bugs in winter.

In any case, they shouldn’t be in your kitchen. They shouldn’t be near where you eat.

Luther looked at her, and then he and Betty stared out the front window, their faces stony and obstinate.

Rose watched them. How’re you doing with your money? she said. Are you still separating it into envelopes and paying your bills on time?

Oh, yes ma’am.

That’s fine, then. Do you have any questions for me?

Luther looked at Betty. I don’t have no questions. Do you, dear?

I don’t, Betty said.

And I’ve been told you’ve been going to the parenting classes.

Luther nodded. There’s only two more left, the teacher said.

Yes. Well, it appears that you’re doing okay. I’m glad to see that. So I think I’ll go now. But I’ll come back again before long.

Rose slipped her notebook into her purse, and Luther opened the door for her, and outside in the car when she glanced back in the rearview mirror he was still standing barefoot on the porch, watching her drive away, and Betty was out of sight, somewhere in the house.





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