Filed to story: Love on the Sidelines (Natalie & Karl)
I sat with Karl that night, never letting go of his hand, and we talked when he could.
“You won’t be able to go to school tomorrow.”
“I have to.” He shifted restlessly, wincing as the movement hurt his back.
“No, you don’t. We never do anything the first day. I’ll find out who your teacher is and get the list of school supplies for you.”
“I don’t care about that.” He watched me from under drooping eyelids. “But I have to be there for Lindsey. She’ll be scared if I don’t go.”
“I’ll tell her you’re okay. I’ll even play with her so she won’t be worried.”
“She won’t play.” He hesitated. “She’s not like you, Peewee. She doesn’t talk to anybody except me, and only then when she has to.”
“Is she retarded?”
“No. Maybe a little slow, but it’s not her fault. Nobody’s ever cared about her or tried to help her.” His voice was little more than a whisper, and I could see he was barely awake.
“Go to sleep,” I told him. “I’ll make sure Lindsey is fine tomorrow and I won’t scare her.” I was still sitting on the floor, but I leaned over until my head was on the pillow beside his, our foreheads almost touching.
“You’re something special, Peewee,” he murmured.
“So are you,” I answered.
I must have fallen asleep there, because when I next woke it was morning and I was in my own bed.
Karl couldn’t have gone to school the next day no matter how determined he was.
It was all he could do to lift his head from the bed, and he still ran a fever off and on. I did what I told him I would, getting the list of school supplies from his teacher and keeping watch on Lindsey. Her big owl-eyes brimmed with tears when I told her Karl wouldn’t be there, so I sat with her each recess, assuring her he was fine and would be back in school as soon as he could. She never said a word, just stared at the ground like I wasn’t there.
Normally, I piddled my way home after school, stopping to play or talk to the other kids who walked with me, but that day, I ran all the way.
“How is he?” I asked the Judge.
“Sore, but he’s going to be okay.”
Relief flowed through me. “Can I go see him?”
“I reckon. He’d probably like some company besides mine.” So I spent the whole evening in Karl’s room, telling him about the first day of school, about Lindsey, feeding him supper when he couldn’t move his arms without gasping from pain. I even retrieved the books I’d loaned him, found the place he’d marked, and read to him until he dozed off. I would have stayed there all night if the Judge hadn’t shown up and sent me to the house.
The next morning Mama halted my headlong rush to the barn and hustled me into the car for our annual trip to buy school supplies. I took both my list and Karl’s. If Mama noticed that our basket was quite a bit fuller than usual, she didn’t protest.
To my surprise, our second stop that morning was at the used clothing store. Mama went through it in a very business-like manner, picking out jeans, shirts, underwear, and shoes. All of the items were obviously used but still in excellent condition. She even bought a warm winter jacket. When we got home she cut all the string tags off the garments, folded them neatly, and looking me straight in the eye, held the pile out.
“I cleaned the closets this morning, Natalie, and found a bunch of your Uncle Vern’s old clothes. Would you take them out to Mr. Bob’s room and put them in the chest for me?”
I think I loved my mother more at that minute than I ever had before. “Thank you,” I whispered, hugging her hard.
It was a week before Karl recovered enough to do more than sit up. During that week the bare room was transformed into a cozy nest. First an old desk appeared, then a bookshelf which I promptly filled for him. Next a braided rug covered the bare floor and the single window was adorned with new plaid curtains.
According to the Judge, my mother and aunts had gone into one of their cleaning frenzies and were tossing out everything in the attic. Since he hated to throw away anything still useful, he put it in Karl’s room. I doubt we fooled Karl for a minute, but he never said anything, and I lost count of the times I’d catch him touching the books or clothes with an expression of wonder on his face. No one had ever cared about him before either, except maybe Lindsey, and he wasn’t sure how to take it.
We never heard a word from Frank Hayes while Karl recuperated, and I don’t think he ever hit Karl again, but Karl kept his promise to the Judge. The room in the barn was undisputedly his. Many nights over the next ten years I’d look out and see the gently glowing light spilling from the window and know he was there, safe. Sometimes, if it wasn’t too late, I’d sneak down and we’d talk or read together. And I finally got to ask Karl my question about babies.
It was late in the evening on a Friday, about two weeks after Karl’s return to school.
I’d seen the light come on in his room and, taking the new copy of
Dune I was reading, wentdowntojoinhim.Whileourschoolhoused all the grades from kindergarten to senior high, I rarely had a chance to talk with him during the day. During recess, he would stand behind Lindsey, arms crossed, glaring at anyone who came too close. I had been admitted to this closed circle, but Karl didn’t talk much when other people were around. He would acknowledge me with a small nod, then return to his “on guard” position.
We were sitting on his bed that night, legs crossed as we used the wall for a back support, our shoulders touching companionably as we read. He had finished all of
Lord of the Rings , and was working his way through The Chronicles of Amber.
I put my finger under an unfamiliar word and looked up. “What’s a concubine?” Maybe I should mention here that my mother monitored my reading very carefully, so while I was advanced in reading skills, I was also incredibly naïve and overprotected. I now suspect that she steered my interest toward science fiction because it had so little in the way of sexual references. She hadn’t discovered my copy of
Dune yet. I’d slipped it into the basket on my last trip to town with the Judge, and since he was so used to my hunger for books, he’d never commented on it.
Karl glanced up from his book at my question. “I think it’s a woman who’s kind of like a wife, but isn’t really married.”