Dirty Faces - Book 2

Chapter 1: Cleveland

Chapter 1: Cleveland

Adam sat on the bed watching his uncle, dressed in his fatigues, as he packed his rucksack. He was generally a die-hard optimist, but things had been pretty gloomy for some time now, and this was just one more thing. It wasn't that he didn't like his aunt and cousins; he very much did. As a matter of fact, despite the cramped living arrangements, they had been the best thing to happen for him and Uncle Kent in a long while. It was just that all he'd ever really known was Uncle Kent, Paw, and Granny, and now Paw was gone. Granny was still there, but not really.

Uncle Kent's regiment had been called to active duty and he was leaving this morning for Camp Shelby. When he noticed his usually happy-go-lucky nephew's uncharacteristic demeanor, he tousled Adam's fine, sandy blond hair. "Chin up, kid," he said, flashing that million dollar grin of his. "I'll be back before ya know it." To which Adam replied with a very unconvincing smile.

His cousin appeared in the doorway. "Breakfast is ready," she announced.

"Thank you, Ginny," said Uncle Kent. He looked again to Adam. "Get on in there. Tell Suz I'll be there in a minute."

"Yes, sir."

Adam stood up, got his crutch, and followed Ginny into the kitchen. Kody was already at the table reading the newspaper, just as he had done every morning since he got there. He was still amazed that there was a newspaper printed daily and delivered to their door. Aunt Susan was just sitting down with a cup of coffee. "Mornin', sweetie," she chimed.

"Good morning," said Adam as he took a bowl from the cabinet and hobbled over to the stove to fill it with oatmeal. He was grateful just to get to fill his own bowl of oatmeal for himself, but Aunt Susan was getting better about not trying to do everything for him.

"Kody," said Aunt Susan.

"Ma'am?"

"Paper."

Kody folded the newspaper and slid it under his bowl. Adam took his seat between his cousins and noted the plate of bacon on the table. This day was obviously a special occasion if they were having bacon. With so many mouths to feed in the little apartment, most days began with oatmeal and ended with something involving potatoes and still-hungry bellies.

Ginny's face was resting on her hand as she stared glumly into her bowl and stirred. Perhaps it was her hatred of oatmeal that had her looking so down, but more likely it was that she adored Uncle Kent.

Aunt Susan was watching his every move, studying him. She reached across the table and put her hand on his. "He's gonna be just fine. Don't you worry." Then she smiled a smile he knew even she didn't believe.

Adam nodded, "I know. Can't help but worry, though, ya know?"

"Nah, everything'll be fine. I'm sure this is just a precautionary measure. We're not even at war."

"We will be soon enough," Kody interjected, rattling the corner of his newspaper. Aunt Susan shot him a threatening look and he dropped his gaze. "Sorry."

"Where is Kent, anyway?" asked Aunt Susan.

"Still packing," Adam replied. "Said he'd be a minute."

Her jaw tightened. "Packing? Packing can wait. He needs to get in here and eat his food while it's hot." She stood up and headed in the direction of the bedroom, thumping Kody on the back of the head as she passed. "Act right," she hissed.

When Aunt Susan was gone, Adam looked over his shoulder to be sure, then said, "You don't have to be sorry. You're probably right."

Kody bit his lip and didn't say anything. His head was probably still sore and he wasn't about to say anything else to earn himself another thumping. Ginny shook her head in disgust. "Listen at you two, expecting the worst from square one."

"It's just reality, Ginny," said Adam. "We have to look at the way things are going and accept reality."

"Well, we can still hope, can't we?" she shot back.

"Of course. And that's what we'll do."

She sat back in her chair, crossed her arms, and stared across the table at her brother. "I see you over there eyeballing my bacon."

"I ain't even looking at your bacon!" Kody insisted.

"You were. And I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong."

"Oh yeah? Well, what am I thinking?"

And just that quickly, the subject of war was dropped and Adam couldn't help but laugh at them. They argued over the stupidest things. But it was true that Kody was a pretty notorious bacon snatcher.

"You're thinking that since you done ate yours, you're gonna steal mine when I ain't looking. But you're not."

"Nope," said Uncle Kent, swiping her slice of bacon as he passed. "I am." He took a bite and grinned at Ginny, who stared up at him, her mouth gaping.

Adam and Kody burst out laughing. "Y'all already picking on poor little Ginny?" said Aunt Susan, picking up her coffee cup and leaning against the sink so Kent could have her chair.

Uncle Kent sat down and tossed a piece of bacon off the plate in the center of the table onto Ginny's. "I know better than to steal from Ginny. Hear she throws a pretty mean punch," he said with a wink. She smiled and ate her bacon before anyone else could snatch it.

After the initial laughter, they ate in relative silence until the wailing started in the back bedroom. Aunt Susan jumped up and ran over to the stove. "She's awake," she said, ladling some oatmeal into a bowl. "Maybe she'll eat a little something for me today." Then she rushed out of the kitchen to go tend to Granny.

When they were all finished eating, Ginny cleared the table and Kody returned to studying the newspaper. "You looking at the sports section?" asked Uncle Kent.

"No. Want it?"

"Yep."

Kody thumbed through through the paper until he found it and handed it to him.

"Thanks."

"Sure thing."

He was still a young man, Uncle Kent, not yet out of his twenties. His life up to this point had been devoted to his family and his country. Adam hadn't lied to Ginny when he'd said hope is what they would do. He felt in his gut that war would indeed happen, and Uncle Kent would have to fight in it. But he hoped he was wrong.

*****

Ginny clung to the edge of the bed, afraid if she touched her great- grandmother she would wake up screaming, like she did most nights. Coming out here to help care for this woman she had never known was one thing, but it was all the more grim for Ginny that she had to share a bed with the soon-to-be deceased. Some nights Mama slept in here and she got to sleep on the couch but this wasn't such a night. She prayed Granny would sleep through the night because she was inconsolable when she woke up screaming. Not that Ginny would know what to say to her anyway. She'd yet to have a rational conversation with her great-grandmother because she was always confused and talking nonsense.

She had enjoyed getting to know Uncle Kent and Adam, but it was ironic that now they were here, in Cleveland, waiting for letters from Uncle Kent. She lay there thinking of how she missed the mountains and the dirt patch. She missed Aunt Betty and Uncle Bill, and even Jack. She had made a few friends here, but she missed the ones back home. She missed her little wood house with the rusty metal roof. And she missed her bed.

She raised herself up on her elbow and looked over her shoulder, watching her great-grandmother sleep. She was peaceful and her breathing came easy, rhythmically, through her thin, pale lips that were surrounded by dozens of deep wrinkles. Thin lips. Everything about her was thin, from her whispy gray hair to her fragile, liver-spotted skin, to her frail arms and legs. She was just there, waiting to die. They were waiting on her to die. It was morbid but true, and Ginny couldn't wait for these bleak days and nights to end.