Free Brightleaf by Raleigh Rand Page B

hate it that a Share Group meeting upset someone. That’s the very opposite of what we hope to achieve at our meetings.
    Mavis and I follow Terry to the door.
    “Are you okay?” I ask. “This didn’t really turn out as I planned. I mean…I had no control. I am so sorry you were offended.”
    Terry opens his mouth to say something but stops.
    Mavis says, “C’mon Doc. Nobody’s thinkin nothin bad about you. Everybody knows we ain’t lovers. But I wouldn’t mind it a bit.”
    “It’s okay, Mavis,” says Terry. “I need to be hitting the road. But thanks for the kind words.” And he walks out the door.
    “Well, Doyle,” says Mavis, “I guess that one came back to bite us in the butt.”

14
    Not So Top Secret Entry
    June 20, 1990
    Dear Diary,
    There are kids around my age who live in a few houses on Main Street, but I haven’t felt like making friends with them yet. They pass me on their bikes like they are in some kind of gang that’s required to wear Izod. And I’ve seen a group of girls about my age smoking cigarettes in the City Park. It’s not like I’ve never smoked a whole pack of Virginia Slims all by myself. So 6th grade. Recently, I’ve become a real regular in the garage sale circuit. I used to think you’d always find nasty stuff, like somebody’s old false teeth or a half-used tube of Chapstick at garage sales. I was right. If you want that kind of stuff it’s there for the taking. Some people think it’s OK to sell anything. Once I saw some old person’s potty-chair with some real pee turned to brown syrup in the bowl. Right in the front yard. Like the people selling it were darn proud and really lucky to have this quality potty in their sale. Besides the gross stuff, there is a whole bunch of great stuff, too. Yesterday I bought a pair of hot pink Converse high-tops. They fit just right. I also found a really good pocketbook that I paid 2 dollars for, and it still had a bunch of change inside it. $3.47. The old records are the funniest. I bought one for 50 cents, just to see what was on it. Crazy Horses by Donnie and Marie Osmond. My mother wouldn’t be caught dead at a flea market. Not even tanked-up. And she would just die if she knew I was walking all over Brightleaf in the shoes of a stranger. It does not bother me at all, as long as I wear socks. The thing that bothers me more than contracting athlete’s foot from the last owner of these shoes, is watching Grandmother and her friends dance at their favorite restaurant every week. Smitty’s has polka on Friday nights. The band is a group of men with thick glasses and comb-overs playing horns and an accordion. There’s a dance floor if you want to dance. And I never do. I’m just there for the meatloaf because I can’t seem to get enough of it. As much as I like meatloaf, I would be completely mortified if any of my friends from Atlanta ever saw me walking into Smitty’s because everybody knows it’s a place old people go to flirt and carry on with each other, which is very disturbing to me....X

15
    A Little Problem
    Mary Beth
    Somebody knocks on my bedroom door very early in the morning. The rising sun slowly seeps through the blinds, and I’d like to rest here between the sheets feeling the coolness on my legs and think about the coming day before answering that knock. It’s Mavis. She’s whispering to me through the door. She says we have no running water. I mumble for her to call the city and see if there’s a broken line.
    “Already done that,” she says. I haul myself out of bed, pull on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, and walk into the bathroom and try the faucet. Nothing. Next, I head downstairs to the kitchen. Eleanor is standing at the sink, attempting to fill the coffee pot with nonexistent water. Mavis says she’s going to check and see if Ned has water in the carriage house. Whether the carriage house has running water or not, I need a plumber. And I really hate plumbers. To me, they’re the same as