"I swear, darlin'," she cried as she marched about the house, "this is gain' to be one of my cheery pick sales. Here today, one tomorrah. Don't you go worrying a minute about it all. I'll get us a top price. Sure.
you're goinr to leave all these pieces of art, the vases, lamps, all of it?"
"Yes," Brenda said so firmly it would have taken a Marine to ask again.
Camellia Dawson Davis just nodded and walked on, her eyes widening with every room.
"Well," she concluded. "we're going to figure at least another ten thousand for the furnishings and all. I'll start showing the house tomorrah, if that's all right with you."
"We're out of here late this afternoon," Brenda said. "It's fine."
"Well, don't you worry about it." she emphasized. She glanced at me, smiled, and then turned away quickly when I just glared back at her. "I'll be in touch with your attorney. He'll have your address and your number?"
"By tomorrah," Brenda replied, unable to prevent herself from imitating Camellia.
I had to hide a smile. After Camellia left. Brenda and I returned to packing. By lunch, we were loading the U-Haul. Celia called to tell us she had already set up the utilities, including the phone. so Brenda had a telephone number to leave with our attorney.
"Don't we have to call the school to let them know I'm moving away?" I asked.
"We'll have the new school contact them. By now. I'm sure the gossip phone's been ringing off the hook, anyway, and most everyone who matters knows. April."
After lunch, we swept through the house slowly, checking to be sure we had taken what was really important to us. I went outside and circled it for absolutely no good reason. I guess I was trying to commit it to memory forever. Brenda went through the garage shelves and boxes. I met her inside the house. She stood there with her hands on her hips, looking about for a moment.
"What do you say we leave after I take a shower?" I shrugged. "I guess so." I said.
"We'll have dinner with Celia in Memphis that way," she said. "There's just no point in our hanging about any longer,"
"Okay." I said in a voice smaller than I wanted.
I returned to my room to gather what was left to put in the car while she showered. Ms. Panda was on the bed staring at me. It was true that when I was little. I did speak to the stuffed animal as if it could hear and understand all that I said. Now I felt as though I had been thrown back through time and was standing in front of it as a five-year-old again.
"We've got to go. Mr. Panda," I said. "You're going to Eve in a new home and sleep in a new bed. Don't look so sad. You're making me feel worse. This isn't the greatest place of all to live, is it? This isn't some kind of paradise. Why should I care so much? People move all the time. I would have moved away from here someday. anyway. I don't care about this room. It's just a room. Stop looking Eke it's the end of the world!" I shouted without realizing it.
I heard Brenda behind me. She was in her robe and stared incredulously.
"I thought someone had come to the house," she said. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing."
She stared another moment. "Let's get the hell out of here," she declared, and returned to her room to dress.
I scooped up Mr. Panda, put on my coat, grabbed my carry-on bag which held my final personal items, and marched out of the house. I threw Mr. Panda into a carton in the trunk and squeezed my carry-on bag between two cartons. Then I got into the car and sat with my arms folded. waiting.
A very slight drizzle began. The drops were as small as of sand and barely made a sound against the windshield. The sky wasn't all that dark. either. Maybe it was only raining over our house and driveway. I thought. Maybe these were the tears of the dead.
I turned when I heard Brenda come out. She put down her last bag, locked the door, picked up the bag, and hurried to the car. She put the bag on the rear seat and got in quickly. It started to rain a little harder. She didn't even look at me. She started the engine and backed us out of the driveway. Then she put the car in drive and accelerated.
"Don't look back." she warned. "Just look ahead." I did what she said.
And we were on our way.
Celia had given her good directions, so that in a little less than two hours, we were pulling into the driveway of our new home.
It was much smaller than I had anticipated from listening to Celia talk about it. To me, it looked no bigger than a bungalow, and it didn't have a garage. It had a carport just big enough for one car. There was a screened-in front porch with a patch of front lawn about one-tenth the size of our lawn. Scattered in front of the porch and around the lawn were a half dozen evergreen English boxwood shrubs. A wooden landing that looked like an afterthought was spread at the front door.
As soon as we pulled up, the screen door opened immediately, and Celia stepped out. She was in a pair of jeans and a blue work shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and the shirt tied at her waist. She had a bandana tied around her hair and held a mop like a jousting lance at her side. She placed it against the door.
"Welcome!" she cried, holding out her arms.