Free Garden of Angels by Lurlene McDaniel Page A

remembered Mama’s philosophy: If you can’t say something nice about someone, don’t say anything at all. “Because he plays football. But everybody knows he’s a bully,” I said, ignoring Mama’s maxim. “And he always has been. Although I guess it’s not his fault he was born big. But his meanness has been carefully cultivated.”
    Jason laughed. “You have colorful ways of putting things.”
    I felt my cheeks going hot and I was glad for the darkness under the trees. “Well, not everybody thinks J.T. is as cool as he thinks he is,” I said. “I’ve known him all my life. He had a terrible crush on my older sister, Adel, but she didn’t pay him one bit of attention. I always respected Adel for that. They were two years apart anyway, so J.T. never really had a chance with her.” I realized that I was babbling about things Jason wasn’t one bit interested in and clamped my lips together before I made a bigger fool of myself.
    In the silence, I heard Pastor Jim playing his guitar across the field and voices singing gospel songs. “I guess I’d better get back.”
    Jason reached out and caught my arm. “Can I ask you something?”
    My heart started thudding and his hand made my skin feel warm beneath the layers of clothing I wore. “Course,” I answered.
    “What’s important to J.T.?”
    The question caught me by surprise and for a minute stymied me. “I—um—gee—I guess football is most important to him,” I said.
    “What other things?”
    “Well, he drives his uncle’s old battered pickup, which is more like a battering ram than a real car, so that’s not important. And books aren’t important because reading and writing are just excuses he uses to play football.” I thought for a minute. “I reckon Donna, his girlfriend, is his current best interest. Though I surely don’t know why. Oh, she’s pretty and all, but thoughtfulness and kindness are not her strong suits, if you get my meaning. But how can you not get my meaning? I’m sorry, that’s not very charitable of me to say those things about her—”
    “It’s okay. Slow down. You’re making me dizzy.”
    My face felt hot again. “Sorry.” I knew I’d said too much and that I should leave, but I didn’t want to. We stood in the darkness listening to the music.
    “Carole really likes your mother,” Jason said after a time.
    “Mama likes Carole too,” I said.
    “Your mother’s sick, isn’t she?”
    “She has cancer, but she’s getting treatments, so I figure she’ll be one hundred percent real soon.” I felt odd discussing my mother with him, then remembered that they’d met when he’d first arrived.
    He reached into a pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, put one between his lips and lit up. “You better go on before you’re missed.”
    I took a step, feeling like a little kid being sent out of a room. “What about you? Won’t they start looking around and see that you’re not there?”
    “I’ll come after I finish this smoke.”
    I started to go.
    “Darcy.” The way he said my name sent a shiver up my spine. “Thanks for talking to me.”
    “Anytime,” I said, meaning it with all my heart.
    “Don’t let them make you cry,” he added.
    I wanted him to know that he had made a wrong assumption. “It was the song,” I said. “I don’t know why it affected me, but it did.”
    “It’s a pretty song,” he said. “I like it too.”
    I walked off, feeling light as a feather, the memory of his voice going over me like water over dry ground.
    On Sunday after Papa, Adel and I ate downtown, I went to Becky’s and told her about the hayride. I didn’t tell her everything exactly as it happened. I just said that I’d had my first bona fide talk with Jason and that he seemed lonely. I dwelled on Donna and J.T. and their rudeness and got total sympathy from Becky.
    On Halloween, she came to my house and helped pass out candy to the kids who came trick-or-treating. Every little ghost and goblin