Free Part of Me by Kimberly Willis Holt Page A

whiskey?”
    â€œIn the Ritz Cracker canister over the sink,” said Aunt Pie. She kept her gaze on Merle Henry and never missed a step.
    Merle Henry thought it was nice that Aunt Pie knew where to find things in their house. It kind of made it her home, too. She never stayed in one place long anyway.
    An hour and a half later, Aunt Pie stopped moving and dropped her arms to her sides. “Young man, you’ve worn me out. You’re going to be the most dashing gentleman at that school dance.”
    Merle Henry beamed as if he were six feet tall.
    She raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t sick at all, are you?”
    â€œNo, ma’am.”
    â€œCooter’s more sick than you.”
    â€œI’m starting to feel better,” Cooter said, now sitting up on the couch. “That whiskey does do the trick. And I’m not drunk either.”
    Aunt Pie flopped on the couch beside him. “I doubt you will be for a while.” She combed her fingers through his hair. “If you know what’s good for you, sugar, you’ll remember this morning.”
    Merle Henry’s feet tingled. They wanted to keep moving. Aunt Pie was right, dancing was in his genes. He’d never seen his parents dance even though they said they used to dance in Houma every Friday night. He felt like they’d been keeping an important secret from him. Gordie never danced, but he didn’t seem interested. Girls were always making goo-goo eyes at Gordie, and Merle Henry had seen him sneaking looks at girls. But Gordie was probably too shy to ask someone to the dance. Then again, Merle Henry hadn’t exactly asked anyone either.
    Aunt Pie picked up the Indian Chief notepad on the end table and thumbed through the pages like someone shuffling a deck of cards. “Does your momma still write those stories?”
    Merle Henry pointed to a box in the corner, filled with dozens of notepads. “What do you think?”
    â€œI wonder where your momma is,” Aunt Pie asked, looking at the clock.
    â€œShe went to Faye’s house. Remember?” Merle Henry said.
    â€œBut that was two hours ago. Rose told me she was just taking a bottle of chamomile lotion to Faye.”
    â€œYou could call her,” offered Merle Henry. Merle Henry’s family had finally gotten a telephone the month before when his father started worrying about the baby coming and him working all the way in Oakdale. And it hadn’t cost too much since they shared a party line with eight other families.
    â€œGood idea.” Aunt Pie dialed Faye’s number. She talked a few minutes about meeting Cooter and her new job at Fort Polk and how she was getting a chance to go hear Johnny Cash sing. Then she asked if Rose was still there. As she listened, her eyes grew wide.
    â€œI better go,” Aunt Pie said and quickly hung up.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Merle Henry asked.
    â€œRose never made it over there.”
    Merle Henry tried to swallow the big lump gathering in his throat. Finally, he said, “She might be in the woods. She was going to check my traps on the way to Faye’s house.”
    Aunt Pie bit her lower lip and yanked on her hair. “Lord, I hope she didn’t fall. Maybe she’s having the baby out there. Oh, mercy, what do we do?”
    Merle Henry wished Aunt Pie would shut up. All her chatter was making him nervous. How could the magic he felt just a moment ago be swept away with one big swoosh?
    â€œNow hold on,” Cooter said, standing. “Let’s think calmly.”
    In that instant, Merle Henry changed his mind about Cooter. He was glad he was there. Someone needed to think calmly. Talking crazy like Aunt Pie wasn’t going to help his mother.
    â€œI know the way to the woods,” Merle Henry said. “I’ll just be a second.”
    He ran to his room and changed into his pants and shirt. If anything happened to his mother he’d never forgive himself. He