Colors

Colors



by Luke Pennington





    Me.  I don’t remember much about me before my 5th birthday, thank you.



                                          …………………………………….



    But when I was five, I got a pinto bean stuck in my ear. Mama said that was a bad thing.  I couldn’t hear half of what she was saying.  She tried to get it out with tweezers.  But it was too deep.  My baby sister, Jaynelle,  waddled right up to me when Mama was done.  She stuck her sticky lips on my other ear and blew real hard.  I pushed her away.  It hurt like the dickens, but that pinto bean didn’t move a bit. 

    Daddy was reading the paper.  He always read the paper.  The corner of the paper folded down.

    “What ya’ll doin’?”

    “Jasper got’s a bean growin’ in his ear!” Jaynelle squealed.  She was excited.

    Daddy put his paper down.  He took the big cigar out of his mouth and stood up.  Mama wouldn’t let him light it in the house.  It was like a big finger he carried around all the time.

    “Come here, boy.”  I got up and went to him holding my sticky ear.

    “Pinch yer nose.”  I heard pinose.  I watched him grab his nose with his thumb and finger.  I did the same.  “Now, don’t let go.” he said. “…and do what I tell ya.”  I shook my head yes. 

    He grabbed me under the arms and spun me upside down, gripping my ankles real tight.  The blood ran to my head.

    “Now close you mouth an’ try to blow really hard.” he yelled.  I pinched harder on my nose and took a deep breath. My lips clamped shut.  And I blew.

    That pinto bean flew out like a bullet and hit Jaynelle in the eye.  She screamed.  The bean rolled across the floor.  Daddy put me down, right side up.  Jaynelle was still crying.  Seemed like she cried all the time.  We took her to the doctor.  In the clinic.  Daddy and Mama went in with her.  Then they came out.  A doctor went in.  Then he came out.  He spoke to Daddy, in the corner.  They talked real soft. Daddy was angry.  Mama covered her mouth.  She shook her head.  A woman came over.  She wore glasses.  And carried a bag of papers.  Her dress was brown. She went into the room.  She came out.  She came over to me.  She patted my head.  She ask me questions.  She scared me.  I was quiet.  I didn’t answer.  Daddy glared at me.  His face was red.  The women spoke to my Mama.  Daddy banged through the door.  On the way out.  A nurse bought Jaynelle out.  We left.  The drive home was silent.

    That was eight months ago.  I don’t stick things in me any more.  Mama says that’s a good thing. 

                                              …………………………………

    I saved the bean, though.

                                              …………………………………



    Daddy says I’m short for my age.  Mama agrees.  Fred agrees with Mama.  Fred is my imaginary friend.  He never agrees with me.  Sometimes I get mad at him and push him.  He pushes back.  Next thing you know, we’re all over each other.  Mama says I look like an idiot rolling around out there in the dirt.  She can’t see that Fred has a handful of my hair.  Daddy says that’s called “dirty” fighting.  Fred can be real  mean sometimes.  So can Jaynelle.  She knows about Fred.  I told her.  Sometimes when Fred and I are fighting, Jaynelle comes over and hits me with her fist.  Ouch! I say to her.  She says she’s hitting Fred for me.  I’m not sure she’s telling the truth.  She smiles when I tell her this.  She’s mean sometimes.

    We have a dog.  His name is Lickit.  Daddy named him that.  He is white with black spots.  Every time I call Licket, Daddy laughs.  I’m not sure why.  I heard him tell Mama that Lickit was a lucky dog.  Mama told him to shut up.  Daddy laughed.  I think Lickit has something wrong with his back.  He stays doubled over a lot.  He ain’t like that all the time, though.  Sometimes I play soldiers out in the sandlot.  Lickit is right there.  I think Lickit likes to play soldiers.  He’s always gnawin’ the head off ‘a one.  It makes him happy.  When he’s happy, Lickit hugs my leg.  Real tight.  Bein’ happy makes him dance.  His hips just jerk and jerk.  His tongue hangs out.  He hugs my leg a lot.  Daddy says he’s a happy dog.  Then he laughs.  I think Lickit is special.  He does tricks.  He pulls his butt across the ground.  Real hard-like.  Hind feet in the air, he works real hard scootin’ across that grass.  I tried it, but I can’t do it.  Daddy says I look like an idiot out there scootin’ around.  Mama says I’m ruining my pants.  Lickit just tries to hug me the whole time.

    My Grammy lives with us.  She’s my Daddy’s mama.  She smells funny.  Like flowers and dead things in the sun. Mama says she knows.  Daddy just stares at me when I say it.  Grammy must be real old.  Sometimes she sleeps in Daddy’s chair.  I am curious.  I get real close to her.  Her skin is crinkly.  I try to count the lines, but I get lost.  I’m careful not to wake her.  I use my magnifying glass I got for Christmas.  Grammy has tiny little white hairs all over her face.  It’s like exploring the moon.  Her breath comes out all raspy.  It smells like sour milk and alcohol.  And something dead.  I wonder if a pinto bean will fit in her ear.  I just wonder.  Daddy tells me to leave her alone.

    When she first came to live with us, she scared me.  Thump, thump, thump.  I could hear her walker.  I envisioned a peg-legged pirate.  Walking around.  Late at night.  I cannot see her eyes.  Her glasses are like my magnifying glass.  Big, thick saucers.  Mama says she can’t see too well.  Daddy says leave her alone.  I ask why.  He just stares at me.  Grammy talks to Jaynelle a lot.  Jaynelle just stares at her.  Daddy says that’s rude.  I think Jaynelle is just scared of Grammy. 

    Mama is asleep on the couch.  She sleeps a lot.  Her arm is hanging off the cushion.  She looks like a mannequin.  Pale.  Sometimes I count the little dots on her arms.  I want to connect them with an ink pen.  Daddy says leave her alone.  I sometimes leave her a flower on the couch arm.  Sometimes Lickit lies at the foot, with a sad face.  Sometimes Lickit cries like Jaynelle.  I try to get him to go with me.  Jaynelle says leave him alone.  People always say that to me.  So I do.

    Daddy is drinking beer on the porch.  He likes the porch.  He don’t watch T.V..  Daddy says the world is his T.V..  He sits there for hours at night.  He waves a lot.  Some people wave back.  Our neighbor, Ed, just stares at him over the fence.  Daddy says that’s rude.  Mama says it’s rude, too.  Daddy waves at Ed a special way.  Daddy has big hands.  And big fingers.  I’m sure Ed can see them.  But he just stands there.  Daddy smiles at Ed a lot.  We have a blue house.  Ed’s house is white.  Blue is my favorite color.  Jaynelle says that’s a good color.



Fall Forward……



    It’s Saturday.  Jaynelle is pulling on my arm.  She wants candy. I don’t have any.  We can go to the stow-a, she whines to me.  I listen.  I don’t want to hear her cry today.  The convenience store sits down on the corner.  It’s as far as Mama let’s us go.  Get a loaf of bread, Mama says.  She gives me money.  Enough for bread and candy.  I take Jaynelle’s hand and we walk out the door.  Daddy is mowin’ the lawn.  The grass is brown.  Daddy says Lickit’s piss is killing his grass.  He’s drinking his beer.  Big sweat stains soak his tee shirt.  His face and neck are bright red. Like a beet.  I call Lickit.  Better Lickit stays with me today.  Daddy can get mean about his grass.  Lickit unfurls from his bent position by the porch and falls in beside Jaynelle and me.  It’s hot.  I feel the heat from the sidewalk on my face.  Flies are buzzing Jaynelle’s candy mouth.  I guess flies get hungry, too.

    There are eight houses on the way. I counted them before.  Jaynelle is gripping my hand tight.  Too tight.  Mrs. Tippet lives on the other side of us.  We pass by her house.  It is grey.  Like something faded and old.  She’s in her yard as we pass.  She looks at us, but does not wave.  She is old like Grammy.  She stands still like a statue  as we pass.  Her walker reflects the sun into my eyes.  I look away.  She does not like to be reminded, Mama says.  Of what?, I ask.  Of ponytails and freckles. Of energy and youth.  Of what came before..Mama says.  I shake my head.  I understand.  She has lost something.  She is bitter.  I leave it alone.  But I see a lot in Mama’s eyes.  The darkness around her eyes mesmerizes me.  She sees a lot with those eyes.  From our windows.

    We make our way down the block.  Three houses.  Nobody home.  The houses hold silent greetings. Welcome! says one door sign.  Our Humble Home says another.  The Terneys says the third.  Their house is brown.  Lickit wanders onto their lawn.  He pees on the grass.  Soon their grass will match their house.  I call Lickit.  Bad boy, I tell him.  He stops at my feet.  Busy, busy, he cleans himself.  I pull Jaynelle away and start down the sidewalk again.  Jaynelle is fascinated by Lickit’s dexterity.  We all are.

    House number five.  There is a bus stop here.  A man waits.  He holds a small dog.  He rubs the dogs head.  The dog’s tail wags.  A hand produces a chicken nugget from a brown sack.  The dog gobbles it fast.  The hand goes in for another.  We have stopped, Jaynelle, me and Lickit, and we watch this silently.  Overhead.  A plane flies low.  I turn my eyes up.  I follow the dot across the hazy sky.  Until... I see…. a billboard.  It rises above the houses.  Several blocks away.  I squint.  A small boy is on the billboard.  His head is large.  His eyes are large.  Vacant.  Pleading.  A tear streams down the boy’s dusty face.  His belly pokes out.  His arms and legs are like sticks.  He is a brown boy.  He is hungry.  I can see this…in his eyes.  I look down at the dog.  It gobbles another nugget.  Nugget crumbs fall onto the man’s shirt. There is something wrong here.  I continue down the sidewalk with Jaynelle in tow.  She is giggling at the dog.  I don’t giggle.  It is not funny.  Lickit sniffs at the man.  He wants a nugget.  The man ignores him and makes sweet baby talk to the nugget dog.  Lickit gives up.  He is on my heels again.  We are not making good time.  Jaynelle tells me I’m hurting her hand.  I relax a little.

    We approach another house.  This one is green.  A man come out the front door.  He looks mad.  He comes down the steps and makes his way around to the open garage.  He disappears into the shadows.  A woman comes out. She is wearing a coat.  It’s too hot for a coat.  She has shade glasses on.  She is nervous.  Too nervous.  She has a gun in her hand.  She looks around the porch and staggers to the steps.  Something clangs in the garage.  She turns in that direction.  Moving slowly, she starts for the garage.  I pull Jaynelle next to me.  Ouch!, she tells me.  I do not care.  I feel uneven.  I move quickly up the walk, sister and dog in tow.  I don’t want to know what will happen in that garage. 

    Lickit has decided to drop his bits in the next yard.  He makes haste.  With his back arched and paws firmly planted, he drops more than one dog should.  That’s what Daddy says.  When he’s done, he turns around to sniff it.  I’m not sure why.  Jaynelle giggles at Lickit again.  I worry about Jaynelle.  She is almost five.  But sometimes I wonder.  I take care of her a lot.  Mama is always sleeping.  Daddy likes to spend time with Jaynelle.  Unlike me.  He always sends me out to do things.  Him and Jaynelle play a lot.  Lickit has to go out with me.  Mama don’t hear anything.  Jaynelle cries a lot.  Anytime. Anywhere.  Not just when she’s mad.  Sometimes she cries when she smiles.  I think that’s weird. 

    I call Lickit. He leaves his doo-doo and catches up.  I’m embarrassed.  There’s no grass to camouflage  that doo-doo.  The yard is mostly dirt.  Lickit’s doo-doo stands out.  Like that brown mole on Mema’s neck.  It hangs there.  Out of place.  Taunting.  Someone needs to remove that doo-doo…and that mole.  House eight.  The Banollis live here.  Red.  Red brick.  Mrs. Banolli  is real nice.  She is in the yard.  With a water hose.  In a bathing suit.  Washing her car.  Her boobies look like my kickball.  I like to play kickball.  I played kickball yesterday.  She waves.  I wave back.  Jaynelle waves, but she is waving at the bushes.  And crying.  Again.  Lickit likes Mrs. Banolli, too.  He is hugging her leg.  He is dancing his hips again.  Mrs. Banolli squeals.  She panics.  She is quick, too.  The hose finds Lickit and he yelps.  Enough hugs and dancing.  Lickit makes haste, again.

    We are at the store.  Chain fence surrounds the building.  Mr. Chin tore one side down when he opened his store.  We walk through a cut in the fence.  Lickit stops.  He lies down.  He will wait for us.  And lick.  Trash is piled up along the  edge.  Poppy is leaning against the brick.  He is Mexican.  He is in a gang. He is trouble.  He hurt me once.  I do not make eye contact with Poppy.  I pull Jaynelle towards the door.  A car sits out front.  Music vibrates the windows.  It jumps up and down.  Up and down.  We walk a wide path around it.  Jaynelle breaks free and runs into Mr. Chin’s.  I find her on the candy aisle.  Mr. Chin sit’s behind the counter.  His eyes are like eggs behind his glasses.  Jaynelle bends down.  She grabs a box of sour candy.  It falls open.  The sour balls roll across the floor.  I stoop to help her. 

    No!, Mr. Chin yells.  I think he’s talking to us.  I stand up.  Look across the shelves.  There is a young man.  He has on many colors.  There is something on his face.  He is swearing at Mr. Chin.  He has him by the collar.  Pulling his shirt across the counter.  He has a gun.  It is against Mr. Chin’s eye.  He yells at Mr. Chin again.  I duck down.  I am shaking.  I keep my hand on Jaynelle’s shoulder.  Keep her down.  Safe.  A loud thud and ummff  from the front.  I peer over the rows of hard candy.  And bubble gum.  Mr. Chin lies across the counter top.  Blood runs down his face.  The man is gone.  I grab Jaynelle’s hand.  I put my fingers to her lips. Shhh,  I whisper.  We step over the sour candies.  Stooped down.  We walk like crabs to the door.  I pull Jaynelle through and we dash outside.  The car is gone.  Poppy is gone.  I am glad.  I pull Jaynelle through the fence and across the street.  There is a bus stop.  We sit.  I am shaking.  I watch the store.  A police car pulls up.  Turns off his lights…and siren.  I watch it all.  I feel empty.  Jaynelle is crying again.  She sobs.  I almost sob with her.  There is a dead cat in the gutter.  It stinks.  Flies buzz it.  It stare at it.  My stomach knots up.  There is a policeman walking across the street.  He is floating.  Like a dream.  I cannot hear his footsteps.  I pull Jaynelle closer.  He stops.

    Did you see anything?  What is your name, son.  Where do you live?  he ask.  I answer him.  I tell him everything.  Everything I know.  He listens. Jaynelle has quit sobbing.  She stares at me.  On the bench there is a spider web.  It is full of bugs.  I watch them struggle.  One flies away.  It is free.  Fly! I think. 

    The policeman opens the door.  We climb into his car.  It has bars.  There is someone talking on the radio.  We pull away.  Jaynelle is still looking at me.  That is okay.  I don’t mind.  We drive past the houses.  Mrs. Banolli  is spraying her car with the hose.  Lickit’s doo-doo is drying in the dirt.  The green garage door is closed.  The man and his nugget dog are gone.  Houses still stand silent. Void of life.  Mrs. Tippet is still there.  She is facing her house.  Leaning on her walker.  Stiff.  Patient.  Watching something age.  Something that has no life.  She will stand there for hours.

    We pull into the driveway.  Stay, we are told.  We stay.  The policeman disappears into our house.  Another car pulls up.  It’s lights are flashing.  There is no siren.  A lady policeman.  She disappears , too.  Jaynelle makes a face.  She has a sour candy in her mouth.  Good for her.  Daddy!, Jaynelle says with puckered lips.  She points.  Daddy is on the steps.  He is handcuffed.  The policeman leads him to our car.  He tells us to get out.  On the other side, he says.  I pull Jaynelle out the door.  Close the door, he says.  I do.  He opens the other door.  Pushes Daddy’s head into the back seat.  He swears at Daddy.  Another car arrives.  It is plain.  Like Daddy’s car.  A lady gets out.  She puts her hand on my shoulder.  She takes Jaynelle’s hand.  Jaynelle pulls it away.  She takes it again.  And holds on.  We’re going away on a little trip, she says.  Some nice people want to talk to you, she says.  Her breath smells of peppermint and cigarettes.  I take Jaynelle’s other hand.  She will not fight me.  She knows.  I will take care of her.  We climb into the new car.  I see Mama come out.  She staggers.  The police lady leads her down the steps.  Her hands are bound.  Her eyes are dead.  Mama!, Jaynelle screams out.  I shush her.  Finger to lips.  Jaynelle falls silent.  They put Mama in the other car.  The smoky peppermint lady climbs into our car.  Grammy wanders out.  She stops and stands there on the porch.  She does not move.  I wonder if she sees what’s going on.  I see Lickit.  He sits at the edge of the yard.  I wish he were with us.  He watches intently, tail wagging.  He stands.  He pees on the grass.  He barks once, loud.  He turns and runs.  He runs very fast.  Very hard.  He is almost out of sight.  The engine starts.  Jaynelle squeezes my hand.  I close my eyes.  We drive away….



                                            ………………………………….



    We live in a new house now.  The Dodds are sad people.  There is no beer.  Mrs. Dodd has skin like milk.  I have seen no dots to connect.  Mr. Dodd smokes a pipe.  It smells like cherries.  There is no Lickit.  The grass is green.  Like my green crayons.  The neighbors smile at us.  There are no bus stops.  Our house is big.  Really big.  And pink.  Coral, says Mrs. Dodd.  Whatever, I think.  There is no store down the street.  There is no Poppy.  No gangs.  No blood. No billboards.  No hoppy cars.  No loud music.

    Jaynelle sleeps across the hall.  We have separate rooms.  My room is blue.  Hers, violet.  The Dodds  are quiet people.  Mrs. Dodd reads and knits.  Mr. Dodd sells insurance.  We eat dinner together.  We are silent when we eat.  Jaynelle still cries a lot.

                   

                                            …………………………………..



    I lay awake in bed.  The house is quiet.  The trees outside make shadows.  They dance on the wall.  My eyes are wide.  They feel dry.  They are locked on the door across the hall.  My clock says 2:15.  The house is so quiet.  Just like him.  He is quiet.  Like a cat.  The door opens.  I squeeze my eyes almost shut.  He slips out.  Closes Jaynelle’s door.  There is no sound.  I wait.  Ten minutes.  Fifteen.  Twenty.  I slide out of bed.  I am quiet, too.  I open Jaynelle’s door slowly.  I slip in.  She is crying.  I kneel by her bed.  I can smell cherries.  I can smell something else.  Damp, musty.  I look at Jaynelle.  Her eyes shine like glass orbs.  They are lit from the inside.  Like a rainbow.  Pain makes them shine.  Sorrow has many colors.  I put my arm around her neck and nestle my head against hers.  She is shaking.  Here, I say.  I hand her the pinto bean.  It is brown with brown speckles.  Brown with brown speckles is a nice color.  She smiles.  She cries.  I think that’s weird…… 



                                                            The End







Cat:  Fiction

Approx. 3600 words

Copyright © 2008