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pledged and promised to sing along.  To drown out my
mistakes, her mother would say with a laugh, though
everyone knew there wouldn t be a single mistake.
It was the happiest Sabrina had ever seen her mother and
father when they were sitting at the piano with a crowd of
friends. They d play all the old big-band tunes, fun stuff to
sing like  All of Me,  Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy, and
 Chattanooga Choo-Choo. But always, without fail her
mother would end the evening with  When You Wish Upon
a Star, and all the giggles and previous belting out of gib-
berish would quiet, giving in to the soft melody and the
light but sobering message.
Sabrina could barely tap out  Chopsticks. Eric had
been the one who had inherited their mother s musical
talent, but not the interest. Sabrina closed her eyes and
brushed her fingers over the keys, wishing that she could
hear it for a second or two, just the way it was back then,
mixed with the laughter and Uncle Teddy s baritone adding
harmony. She wouldn t even mind adding the smells her
mom s best friend, Verda May s, cigarette smoke, the scent
of candle wax and even the burnt cinnamon from her
mother s failed attempt at baking apple pie. Always at the
last minute she d send Sabrina s father out to Della s
Bakery around the corner to pick up a replacement dessert.
The parties, the laughter, the music, everything ended when
her mother ended.
Sabrina plucked at a few keys, the beginning of  Chop-
sticks. Someday she d take lessons, if only to be able to
play  When You Wish Upon a Star.
She heard a scraping sound out on the patio. That damn
78 ALEX KAVA
cat. Sabrina slid open the glass door, ready to grab the
broom. She stopped herself when she caught a whiff of
lavender. She could feel a presence even before she could
make out the old woman s shape, sitting next door in the
wicker chair. The scraping sound must have been the
chair s feet scooting against the cement floor, and now
Sabrina could hear the chink of ice cubes in a glass. In the
still of the night she could even hear the purring of a
content Lizzie somewhere close by.
 Miss Sadie? Sabrina said gently, not wanting to startle
the old woman who had keen hearing, unlike her cat.
Out of the dark came the familiar smooth, deep voice.
 Come join me, dear.
Sabrina heard the clinking of more ice as she felt her
way around the hedge of crepe myrtle that separated their
patios. Her eyes adjusted to the dark and she could see the
outline of Miss Sadie, her crinkled hair pulled into a neat
bun at the back of her head. Her wire-rimmed eyeglasses
were still in place despite the dark and on the small table
beside her sat the tall glass of what Sabrina knew was
whiskey and water on ice. Also on the table was an ice
bucket, tongs and another glass and she remembered it
was Friday night. Though unspoken and unplanned, they
had spent every Friday night since March right here in the
dark, sipping whiskey and water on ice, usually just sitting
quietly, listening to the night birds and watching the stars.
They shared bits and pieces, glimpses of their pasts,
never whole stories. It wasn t necessary. It was difficult to
explain. They were like two old friends who already knew
enough about each other to know they liked what they knew.
Sabrina took her place in the rickety wicker chair beside
the old woman. She added several cubes of ice to the empty
WHITEWASH 79
glass, poured the whiskey a third of the way and splashed
it with water. She took a long sip, tonight grateful that the
bite of liquor was stronger than usual.
 I just got back from Chattahoochee, she said and she
saw Miss Sadie nod. She could feel Lizzie rub up against
her leg and begin a rumble of purrs. Oh sure, on this side
of the crepe myrtle Lizzie befriended her. On the other side
she swatted down potted plants like they were pesky mice.
 Chatt-a-hoo-chee. Miss Sadie drew out the word and
tasted it with a sip of whiskey.  My momma used to scare
the living daylights out of us with threats she d send us off
to Chattahoochee if we misbehaved.
 Did it work?
 My little brother, Arliss, ended up there for a spell in
 55. He was long past being a child by then, but I suppose
you could say it was misbehaving that put him there. Times
were much different. It was either there or the state prison.
Nothing like now.
Sabrina leaned her head back and looked up at the stars.
There was something about Miss Sadie s voice that made
everything she said sound like a melody. Maybe it was the
southern accent mixed with the deep richness of each word,
slow and smooth as molasses. It soothed Sabrina more
than the whiskey, more than anything else in her life right
now. The old woman had become a staple in Sabrina s
life, someone she didn t need to explain herself to,
someone who didn t want anything from her.
 How is your daddy? Miss Sadie asked, inviting as
little or as much as Sabrina wished to share.
 I don t know, Sabrina confided.  I honestly don t know.
Miss Sadie nodded again, satisfied. That was all Sabrina
had to say, as if the old woman knew exactly the confu-
80 ALEX KAVA
sion and uncertainty Sabrina felt without her having to put
it into words. She got the feeling there wasn t much in life [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]