Background
Two brothers try to survive their abusive father.
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So far, brothers, Huck and Dewey are living under the abusive hand of their father. Dewey gets left behind while Huck goes to town on an errand for his mother. There he gets to see his crush, Miss Lynn.
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Miss Lynn smiles real bright when she sees it's me coming through the door to Dobey's. Those bells that hang on the door always make me smile. "Well, hello, Huck. Seems I'm seeing a lot of you lately."
"I brought a list. Momma, well, she said to let you pick the spices for pickling. Said you'd know just what to get."
Miss Lynn goes over to the big case where the loose spices are. She's humming and it sounds real pretty. I'll just bet she has an angel's voice when she sings. I am just working up my nerve to talk to her when the bells on the door start ringing and in walks old Mrs. Finley.
She's an impatient sort of woman. Hedging closer to a person than she ought to and she tends to peer over her glasses more than she looks through them. It makes me wonder if she really needs glasses at all. Mrs. Finley elbows me to the side. "Lynn, I'm in a real hurry, so you need to stop what you're doing and take care of me."
Miss Lynn smiles warmly. "I'll be right with you, Mrs. Finley. I'm almost done."
I frown as Mrs. Finley gives me a once over. "He can wait."
"He's waited patiently enough. I'll be with you once I'm finished with his order, then I can spend as much time with you as you need."
I can tell by the huff she lets out that she don't like having to wait to be helped. She especially don't like having to wait for the likes of me. She turns and looks over her glasses at me, just studying me a little bit at a time. It's not a good feeling, I can tell you that. It's a lot like being caught with your under drawers down.
"Huck," she says.
"Mrs. Finley." I nod to be polite.
"How's your mother?"
"Fine."
"Your brother still injured?"
"Yes, ma'am. Always will be, I suspect."
"Tsk-tsk. Your daddy is a bad man. Yes, sir, I sure hope you don't turn out like him."
I look at my shoes before speaking. "I hope not, too."
"He's always been a mean spirited thing."
I look over at Miss Lynn, hoping she ain't listening. Sure don't want her thinking I'm anything like my daddy.
"Here you go," Miss Lynn says, handing me a brown paper sack that's heavy with spices. "Anything else, Huck?"
I remember my promise to Dewey. "I told Dewey I'd bring him something."
She nods, a big smile on her face. "Wait here." She hurries behind the curtain that separates the store and the rooms she shares with her children.
Once again, I feel Mrs. Finley's eyes on me. She's watching me, so I pretend to look at the different spices in the bag. "Mmm, these smell good."
After a few seconds, Miss Lynn comes back around the curtain. "Here you go. One for you and one for Dewey. My momma's lemon bars."
I know my face goes red and I stare at the treats with wide eyes. "I can't take your food, Miss Lynn."
"Please, if I ate everything my momma cooked, why, I'd be as big and ugly as a barn."
"Oh, no, you could never look ugly."
I hear Mrs. Finley's sharp intake of air, and I have to think quick. "Neither of you ladies could ever be ugly," I say hastily, smiling at Miss Lynn and then turning my attention to Mrs. Finley.
To my surprise, Mrs. Finley gushes like a school girl. But when I look back at Miss Lynn, she's giving me a curious look.
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"Dewey," I yell as I start down the path to the house. "Miss Lynn sent you something."
Dewey comes racing around the side of the house. His hair is dark with sweat and the wetness under his arms blossom out almost touching in the center of his shirt. "What is it?"
"Smell it. Don't it smell good?"
He lifts the napkin wrapped bar up to his nose. "Mmm. It smells like lemons."
"It's a lemon bar. I already ate mine. I couldn't wait."
"Should I eat it now?"
I look past him to see my daddy walking towards us. He's squinting and he looks extra mean right now. "Dew, did I tell you you could run off? Get back there and finish helping me with those damned screens."
Dewey tries to hide the lemon bar. "I will, I just wanted to eat what Huck bring me."
Daddy leans forward and the sour stink of sweat hits me. He snatches the treat right out of Dewey's hand. "Where'd you get this?"
"Miss Lynn."
He smirks. "Why would Miss Lynn give a white boy something sweet? What else did she give you?"
"Her momma made it."
Daddy flips the napkin off with his dirty finger, sticks his thumb right in the center and touches it to his tongue. Then he smiles at Dewey, and lets it fall to the dirt.
Dewey clenches his jaw and looks down. "What'd you go and do that for? It was for me."
"Tough shit. Get your ass back there and finish what I told you to do."
As soon as Dewey storms off, I start to go around my daddy. He catches my arm. "I know what you's up to, Huck. You always have liked the dark meat on the bone."
I swallow the angry words that are coming up my throat like steam. "That was mean what you did with Dewey's lemon bar." I look past him, at my momma who's standing on the porch. "Momma is waiting on her spices," I say.
"Bet Miss Lynn likes those pretty blue eyes of yours." His voice hisses in my ear like a serpent.
Wrenching my arm free, I start walking up the pathway. Daddy stands right where he was.
"Why don't ya tell yer momma who you's sweet on?" He laughs at his words.
Momma has this worried look on her face. She knows Daddy ain't never got nothing nice to say, and she sees the anger and misery on my face.
"I got everything on your list," I say. My jaw aches from clenching it, but I do my best to act like everything is alright.
It's what we do here, act like every thing's alright.
