Free Walking Through Shadows by Bev Marshall Page A

bandaged and Lil’ Bit calmed with a cookie, we set about the serious work of jelly making. Mama stood at the stove with her wooden spoon, stirring the first batch that was nearly ready for cooling while Sheila carefully lined up the jars on the countertop. I dumped another bucket of berries in the sink to wash. I remember thinking that Sheila’s accident was a bad luck sign, as I had dreamt about missing teeth only the night before, so when I heard the crunch of gravel, I looked out the window with a shiver.
    I saw a bright red Chevrolet truck pull up beside our old rusted lawn mower that Daddy had set out for Digger to take home later that day. “Mama, company,” I said.
    “Who is it?”
    “Dunno. Can’t tell.” But as those words came out of my mouth, I recognized the man getting out of the truck. It was Uncle Walter, Lil’ Bit’s real daddy, whom we hadn’t seen since Lil’ Bit’s second birthday three months past. He had been spending a lot of time in Chicago working for the Illinois Central, and his visits had been sporadic and brief. Next I watched the passenger door open and saw a woman stepping out. He had never brought anyone with him to visit before. “It’s Uncle Walter and a lady,” I said, which sent Mama across the kitchen to the window. As we watched them walk toward the back porch, I noticed Uncle Walter had a new bounce in his step, and his hands fluttered around him as he talked to the woman and pointed to the dairy barn, the fig tree, our new tractor shed. The lady’s head jerked around looking in whatever direction his finger led her. She was wearing a beautiful orange, pink, and yellow print chiffon dress, and I thought she looked like she was dressed for a party instead of a visit to our dairy. She wore yellow high heels with rounded toes, and I stared at her feet as they hopped like little canaries toward the house.
    “Wellllll,” Mama said, using a lot of air. “Wonder who she is?”
    In the kitchen Uncle Walter introduced her as Gloria. Sheila picked up Lil’ Bit and carried him into the living room where Mama turned on the lights and waved our company to the couch. After he sat down, Uncle Walter introduced her again. This time as Gloria Vitter. Mama and I looked at each other, both of us trying to figure out if she was a relative of Uncle Walter’s that we didn’t know about.
    “We’re married. Got hitched a week ago,” Uncle Walter said, taking Gloria’s left hand and displaying her gold band.
    I waited for Mama to say something, but she was struck dumb. I think we both tried to smile, but we were so surprised I imagine our mouths looked like we had just swallowed iodine.
    It was then, right at that moment, that Mama’s supernatural powers came to her. She reached across and pulled Lil’ Bit out of Sheila’s arms and held him on her lap with her arms folded over his stomach. Uncle Walter kept right on talking about how he met Gloria in the hotel where he was staying and where she worked as the hostess in the restaurant. They hadn’t known each other very long when they both realized they were “meant for each other.” These last words they actually said together, and as I watched Gloria’s hand squeeze Uncle Walter’s knee, I thought about how he cried so pitifully at Aunt Doris’s funeral. I remembered the hurt and dazed look on his face those times when we helped Aunt Doris into the truck after she visited Lil’ Bit.
    I suspected what was coming, but Mama knew before me, and when Uncle Walter stopped smiling and sat up squaring his shoulders, she kissed Lil’ Bit’s head three times. We had never cut his hair, and it hung down below his ears in soft red curls. He looked like a fat little angel, his blue eyes fixed on Gloria’s colorful dress. “So Gloria’s home is in Chicago. Her people all live there and naturally she wants to stay. I can get a transfer, no problem.” I let out a long breath. Maybe Uncle Walter had come to say good-bye.
    I began