Part 8 (2/2)
Brae loped back up the driveway and dropped the ball at Henrys feet. He licked Henry. ”Do I taste sweet, Brae?” said Henry. ”Cake sweet?”
And right there at the top of the driveway, under Mount Mansfield, Henry felt the heat of a tiny bit of hope.
”Ill ask Mom if I can go,” said Henry. ”Sh.e.l.l let me go.” He paused. ”No, she wont. Shoot.” He paused again. The heat-spark flickered dramatically. Hope, no hope, hope, no hope. ”What am I going to do, Brae? I need to get that marble. But how? What would Wayne do?” Brae stared into Henrys eyes. ”Youve got the answer, dont you? What is it?” Henry stood up fast, almost knocking Brae in the nose. ”Right! Hed sneak onto the truck! Thats what hed do. And thats what Im gonna do.” He took a deep breath. ”Who am I kidding? I cant sneak onto Jakes truck.” He looked into Braes eyes again. ”Okay, yeah, youre right. Im just going to have to talk to Jake. Im going to have to get Jake to convince Mom that I can go.”
With that, Henry turned up the heat on his cake, on his triple-decker, perfect cake of an idea.
marble journey part II
CORA KRISHNASWAMI.
Marble cake! That was it! She couldnt wait to go to the kitchen in the back of the Salvation Army and bake it.
Cora wanted to try making a marble cake with three flavors swirled together. The usual marble cake was two. Chocolate and vanilla. But that was a little too ordinary for the occasion, Cora thought. Two ordinary. Cora laughed at the joke inside her head.
”Pardon?” The woman at the counter looked up from writing her check.
”Hmmmm? Oh, no, nothing-something I just thought of-” Cora unclipped her hair and let it fall across her shoulders.
Like toilet paper tucked in the waistband of a pair of blue jeans, Cora always managed to drag embarra.s.sing stuff out into the public. She couldnt seem to keep the roll of thoughts she had from spilling out of her mouth.
”Sorry,” she said. ”I didnt even know I laughed out loud.”
This time it wasnt so bad. Just a random laugh. But people were sensitive these days. Cora knew that. Theyd been through so much-too much-and there was nothing funny about any of it. She was lucky. Her small house had been spared. But not her neighbors. His house sat lower than hers and it got flooded even when hers did not.
”Well, its important to find something to laugh about,” said the woman. She picked up her shopping bag from the counter.
”Yes,” agreed Cora. The woman was generous. She could have been put off by Coras laugh. Her neighbor could have been put off by her too. If he had been able to hear her over the rain and wind. Of course she had blurted out that she was queen of the mountain as she stood on her front porch as the rain and wind came down. She still didnt know why she had said that. She had stepped outside for just a moment and was overcome by the raging battle taking place all around her little house. Knives of rain clattering down. The shriek of the wind. And she was, on her covered porch, just above it all. She had felt a sense of relief, and a weird thrill, and before she knew it, this queen thing had escaped from her mouth.
Just half a second later, she turned her head and saw her neighbor on his roof, water pouring out of his downstairs front window. Cora had seen him on the roof plenty of times before-he hung out up there with his daughter sometimes, but mostly with two other men. His brothers. They came over to her neighbors house and sang up there a lot, and she loved to listen to them.
”Do you have any children?” Cora asked the woman.
”Yes,” said the woman. ”Why?”
”We just got a big donation from Vermont,” said Cora. ”I havent gone through all of it, but there are some great kids clothes.” She indicated a pile on the side counter. ”Take a look. Someone is about to come by and take them to Baton Rouge.”
The woman walked to the clothes and thumbed through a stack. She pulled a pair of blue jeans from the middle and unfolded them. ”These look almost new,” she said.
Cora nodded.
”But theyre too long for my son.” She began to fold them again.
”Oh, Ill do that,” said Cora. She took the jeans from the woman.
”I should get home to him,” said the woman. ”Im starting to let him stay home alone, but only for an hour or so at a time.”
”How old is he?” asked Cora.
”Ten,” said the woman.
”Sort of an in-between age, huh? A little too young to stay home alone, but also a little too old to need supervision?” asked Cora.
”Yes, exactly.” The woman began to walk toward the door. ”Ill be back,” she said. ”Im so glad youre open.”
”What do you think of chocolate, peanut b.u.t.ter, cinnamon cake?” Cora blurted out.
”It sounds delicious,” said the woman.
”Oh good. To me too,” said Cora. ”Three cheers for the generator! Im trying to make a marble cake with three flavors. Three cheers for three flavors!”
”Sounds complicated.”
”Its for three things, so I thought three flavors would be a nice touch.”
The woman smiled.
”Thing One: I hope that you-oh, not you”-Cora pointed at the woman-”you, my neighbor, move back home. Thing Two: I love listening to you and your trio sing. And Thing Three: Im sorry for what I said out there in the hurricane-” The words tumbled out of Coras mouth.
The woman stared at her.
Cora shook her head. She had gone and done it again. Toilet paper in the waist of the jeans, right there in public. She twisted her hair back into a bun and clipped it into place. She could at least keep her hair neat.
She looked down at the blue jeans in her hands and slowly finished folding them. By the time she looked up, maybe the woman would be gone.
chapter 19.
ZAVION.
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