The Color of the Sky, The Conclusion

And now the conclusion...

When I got home, I dropped the blanket on my bed and headed to the hay loft.  I had to think.  I had discovered how to... well... "take" matters into my own hand, but didn't know any more than that.

It wasn't long before Sissy... I mean, Rusty came up.  He sat next to me.  I was still perplexed.

"You alright?  You looked like you seen something weird."

I shook my head. "I'm fine. I just heard about something."

"What was it?"

I told him.  He didn't seemed surprised, then I found out why.

"My older brother Luke made me do that one time.  He was drunk and he told me if I didn't do it he was going to tell Daddy and he would get mad and tell me to do it."

I was shocked.

Rusty slid closer to me and nuzzled his nose nuzzle against me jaw.  Before I knew it, I was kissing him.  I felt his hand slide down my shirt to my trousers.  Ten minutes later, I experienced what I had just learned that day.  I squirmed and bite hard on my shirt collar to keep from crying out.

Late in the day, I saw it.  The begonia and all the other flowers were in full color.  I noticed the leaves on the trees, the dark green paint on the house, and the pinks, blues, and purples of Gra'ma dresses.  The green fields and the grass.  The barn and its faded red paint.

*****

A week later, Rusty and I were sleeping in my full-sized bed.  He wore his old nightshirt and I wore my undershirt and underwear. 

Laying on my back, I saw him laying on his side facing me.  A thunderstorm rolled in and ever so often lighting would strike.  The air felt good.  It was cool and damp after hot and dry for weeks. The garden would grow like mad now.

Rusty shifted towards me.  He was scared of the storm.  I got up and pushed the window down so it was open just enough for the strong breeze to come in, but kept the rain out.  I crawled back into bed and clasped my hands behind my head.  Rusty snuggled against me.  I wrapped my arm around him, wanting to keep him safe. I could feel his arm across my chest and his nose into my neck.

I slept good.  Sometime in the morning, I woke and could hear the rain still hitting the window.  I also heard the creak of the door as it closed.  I saw Gra'ma's back as she left.  Rusty and I were still snuggled together.

The next morning, the rain was gone. I dressed and left Rusty sleeping.  Out in the kitchen, Gra'ma stared at something in her hand and sipped her coffee.  I looked out the window and saw a mechanic working on our Ford sedan.

"He's putting on the part it needed."  Gra'ma said as she went out and talked to the mechanic.  I could hear it start and run.  He drove off and Gra'ma came back in.  "He's going to put gas in it for me.  Also put on new tires.  He's such a nice man."

I saw that the wall of the kitchen were yellow.  The curtains in the window were polka-dotted in blues.  And Gra'ma's hair had streaks of silver among the dark.

She pulled what she had been looking at from her apron pocket and laid it on the table.  It was a photograph.  I could see it was a couple of men.  I thought maybe it was Uncle Will and Granddad.

"Who are they?" I said.

"That's my brother Horace. He's fifteen years younger than me. He lives in Los Angeles and works in the motion pictures.  He helps with the sets and stuff like that.  Not really sure what."

I had never seen Uncle Horace before and only heard stories.  "Whose that with him?  A movie star?"

Gra'ma grinned.  "That's his lover."  Not saying any more, she poured more coffee and got some eggs out of the basket on the counter.  "They have a house with a guest house behind it.  He's got money. Not that we're bad off.  I've got the money from your parent's and Granddad's insurance policies. Money put back for your education. Not sure just yet what to do about Rusty.

I knew then that Gra'ma knew about Rusty and me.  I was sure that seeing us snuggled together in bed had helped solve the mystery, if there was a mystery to solve.

She broke and mixed the eggs in a bowl then poured them in the hot cast iron skillet.   She cut sausage and put it another skillet.

"I've been thinking about Rusty. Maybe he should..."  She turned and looked at me.

It was one of the few other times that I was scared of what was about to be said.  I worried that she was going to say that Rusty needed to go back home.  That she didn't want him here.  That he was a bad influence on me and I needed to find a nice girl to date.

"I think it's time we leave here.  We need a change."

I stood up.  I started crying. "You can't send him away. Not back over there.  His daddy will just beat him again.  He's happy here."   Up until then, I had never raised my voice, especially to Gra'ma.

With her mouth hung open, Gra'ma put her hands out to me.  "No.  No.  We're not sending him back over there.  I was thinking he could come with us.  To California.  I've had a letter from Horace. He says we can come live with him."

I fell into her arms and sobbed hard.

*****

We left November third.  It was a Monday. Granddad's Ford ran smoothly.  The mechanic said it should make it all the way to China if we needed.  Not that we'd want to go there.

We'd packed the trunk and backseat with what we actually owned from the rented house. Gra'ma taught me to drive so I could help on the long trip. Gra'ma drove first and Rusty sat in the middle, leaning towards me.

"Horace says we're going to love Los Angeles.  They have orange trees all over and there's movie stars and plenty of work."  Gra'ma's excitement wore off on us.

We drove through town.  I waved goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Milton.  They smiled and waved back.  The Write tipped his hat.  I stuck my tongue out at Neil.  He just stood there. My once sepia-toned world was gone.  I saw everything in full color now.  The world was beautiful.

*****

Now that I am older, I can tell this story.  I'm sitting at my typewriter in our house in Los Angeles.  Rusty is out in the backyard, reading something.  I think it might be my new manuscript.  We lived with Uncle Horace right up through college.  Gra'ma paid for my education. I studied English.  Rusty went to work for Uncle Horace helping build sets.  Gra'ma lived to be one hundred and one.  We never went back to Whitcomb, that town south of Terre Haute, Indiana, but we kept in touch with Mr. and Mrs. Milton until they passed away.  They did tell us that Mr. Fray died while drunk.  He got hit by a train when he staggered out onto the tracks after a visit to Ms. Watkins.

The world is changing again around us again.  We could fly back now to Whitcomb, but we won't.  My world hasn't changed the way that it did back in 1942 when I first noticed that the color of the sky was bright blue.


CSM