GRAVITY
Somebody once told me that it’s
gravity that keeps us here on this earth. I think it's strange that a force you
can't see or feel is what ties us here. When I climb to the top of Big Rock and
lie on my back to look at the sky, I don't believe it. All I see is a Cooper’s
hawk defying gravity.
May 27th, 1980
"Jobie, get out of bed. Right.
This. Minute." I had a dream last night that my teeth fell out. I was in
front of Mrs. Allen's Creative Writing class reading a poem I had written about
T.S. Elliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” when I felt something hard
and loose in my mouth. “Dare I? Dare I?…” A tooth tumbled out and I watched as
it traveled toward the linoleum. Then another one fell. I tried to hold them in
with my hand but they slipped through my fingers. "....RIGHT. THIS.
MINUTE.” I remember reading somewhere that people who dream their teeth are
falling out are afraid that their youth is slipping away from them.
Me and Billy Ray are skipping school
today. Well, that’s my plan anyway. Billy Ray has been my best friend since
elementary school. We learned early that country kids and town kids don’t mix.
It’s strange how this stayed true all the way through high school. Country kids
get bussed into town. City kids get dropped off in carpools or drive their own
cars. City kids wear Levi’s and Guess jeans, polo shirts and button down
collars, matching belts and shoes. They always smell good. Like somebody has
made it their business to take care of them. And they hang in crowds. That’s
what makes us different. We don’t travel in packs. It might be because we
remind each other of how poor and different we are, or maybe it’s because our
houses don’t have rec rooms where we can lay around on the floor and listen to
Led Zeppelin albums. It’s okay though. Me and Billy Ray have spent just about
every Saturday together since third grade.
In any other place, Billy Ray might
be called William or Will. He might play jazz piano and read poetry. He might
be called “eccentric”. But here, Billy Ray is just plain strange. He wears his
dead granddaddy’s old suits and shirts. If that’s not bad enough it’s made
worse by the fact that he’s only as tall as me (5 feet 6 inches) and he weighs
about 125 pounds soaking wet. Judging by the clothes, his granddaddy must have
been a full six feet tall and a good 200 pounds. When you add in the suspenders
and all of the folding and rolling up of his sleeves and cuffs, Billy Ray looks
like he’s dressed up for Halloween every day of the year. I don't get it. I
keep telling him that he should try to be less obvious. But then again, he
probably thinks I’m crazy for spending hours in front of the mirror trying to
get my stringy hair to look like the Cissy Spacek’s hair in Coal Miner’s Daughter.
I push two fingers in my mouth to see if my
teeth are still there. Me and Billy Ray have never skipped school. We’ve never
done anything bad when it comes to school. Our teachers like us. I'm what they
call “the creative type”. Billy Ray is sweet. We make a good team, and we have to do something adventurous before
we graduate. Skipping school and swimming in the quarry seems like the only
option for adventure where we live. I’ve heard that there are rusted out old
cars at the bottom and if you jump in and go too deep you can get caught up in the
rusty metal and drown.
I cross the field and see Billy
Ray’s old farmhouse. I bet it was really nice when Billy Ray’s granddaddy was
alive. I’ve only known of it since the rain and wind have turned it gray. “Billy
Raaaay!” I yell up at his window. Big Lettie hears me and yells from the couch,
“Come on in, Jobie. Billy Ray’s still upstairs.” Big Lettie is Billy Ray's
mama. She’s been sick since Billy Ray was a baby. She’s got sugar diabetes. That's
why they live with Billy Ray's grandmamma. Big Lettie is Billy Ray’s biggest
fan. That kind of devotion can weigh a person down. I think that’s why Billy
Ray wants to run off after he graduates. What he doesn’t say is that he’s
afraid that if he doesn’t leave, he’ll be living in that old farmhouse taking
care of his mama for the rest of his life. I don’t know what Big Lettie will do
without him. He’s her lifeline. He brings her news from the outside world and
sausage biscuits from the convenience store in town. Anyway, I guess we’ll find
out soon enough.
“How you doing today, honey?” Big
Lettie lies on the couch eating white powdered donuts. She must be having a
good day, because she put on her Mary Kay (a shade called Really Red) lipstick
which is a magnet for the white confectioner’s sugar. Billy Ray is always worried
about Big Lettie. The last time she had a diabetic seizure she fell and hit her
head on the coffee table. Billy Ray faints at the sight of blood. I wonder if
anybody has ever told her that it is called “sugar diabetes” for a reason.
The road is pretty quiet. Not many
cars this morning. “Jobie, did you know that I was born the day Norma Jean
Mortenson died?” Billy Ray is obsessed with Marilyn Monroe. Lately, he has
tried to convince me that he is Marilyn
Monroe reincarnated as a boy. When I asked why, in the name of heaven, would Marilyn
Monroe want to come back as Billy Ray Ledbetter, he tells me it is so that she
can have a real family life. I don’t point out the obvious fact that Billy Ray
doesn’t have a normal family life. But then again, what is normal anyway? He
loves Marilyn in The Misfits. I think
it’s those two lines that get him every time. “How do you find your way back in
the dark?” “Just follow the big star on the right.” Or maybe he just likes
Clark Gable.
It’s hot and the road looks melty. I
should be in Mr. Tanner’s class finishing up my map of the “Impact of
Industrialization (1877-1900) in the United States” and listening to kids talk
about going to college in the fall. No
Trespassing: Violators will be Prosecuted. I imagine ivy covered walls and
heady debates about feminism and society. Private
Property: No Trespassing. I am going to Valley Technical College in the
fall. In two years, if I work and save money, I can transfer to a university
and finish my Bachelor’s Degree. Maybe I can meet up with Billy Ray and we can
be roommates.
“Billy Ray, hold the fence apart
while I go through.” With the exception of his fashion choices, Billy Ray is a
rule follower. I think the No Trespassing
signs spooked him. He looks nervous. “Billy Ray, are you coming?” I stand on
the other side holding the fence apart for him. He steps through and we follow
the deer path down to the quarry’s edge. “Look how far down you can see.”
Something about the depth of the water makes my heart drop to my stomach. It’s a
black hole. You have to use the rope swing to get in, and if you don’t swing
out about ten feet you can crack your head open on the ledge of the quarry. There’s
no turning back once you’re out there.
It feels funny to be standing here
with Billy Ray in his yellowed briefs and me in my faded pink bra and cotton
panties. I guess neither one of us considered this when were getting ready this
morning. I notice Billy Ray has a star shaped birthmark on the back of his
right shoulder. I can tell Billy Ray is about to say ‘this is a bad idea’ by
the way he’s pulling on his lower lip. I don’t want to debate it, because I’m
afraid if we start talking about it, we’ll never do it. I lean out a little to
catch the rope swing and watch a clod of red dirt break away from the bank
where my foot slips. It hits the water and disappears. I swallow hard and take
a deep breath. I’m a red-tailed hawk.
I drop like a stone and slice the water in half. All I can think about are
those rusted out old cars at the bottom of the quarry. I kick hard to get back
to the surface and suck in air once I get there. I see Billy Ray leaning over
and looking down. “Billy Ray, you gotta catch the rope while it’s swinging back
towards you. Come on.”
Billy Ray takes a few steps back
with the rope to get a running start but stops short of the ledge. “Count to
three and then go, Billy Ray.” One, two, three. Billy Ray sails over my head. My
head pounds and I can’t breathe and I realize the rope ladder is still curled
up at the base of the tree. We have….no way out. It’s my fault really. I used
to spy on high school kids at the quarry when I was in middle school. You know
those popular boys who drive those brand new pickup trucks and bring coolers of
beer and pretty girls. I knew I was supposed to put the rope ladder down, but I
was so caught up in jumping in that I forgot.
I wonder if Mr. Tanner will notice
that I’m missing. Maybe he’ll call my mama. Maybe he’ll think I’m home sick and
won’t do anything. Nobody, and I mean nobody, knows we’re here. Mama will think
I’m at Billy Ray’s and Big Lettie will think Billy Ray is at my house. Nobody
will know we’re missing until close to dinner time when Big Lettie will be
expecting her sausage biscuits. We have freedom to come and go as we please and
look what we’ve done with it. No note. No trace.
I hear Billy Ray whistle and I
breathe a little. “Hey Jobie, what are you going to wear to graduation? Do you
think you might want to hitchhike with me? You can always catch a bus back home
when you get tired of being on the road.” I try to picture me and Billy Ray
catching a ride with some nice old couple or a family heading somewhere for vacation.
We can make up stories about ourselves. We can say we are brother and sister and
our parents died and we are trying to find our long lost uncle who might take
us in. The driver will probably buy us lunch on the way.
I try to picture me on graduation
day in my nice blue dress. Billy Ray will be wearing one of his granddaddy’s
shirts and a tie under his gown. I think about going out for hamburgers and ice
cream after. I think about that boy in my Algebra class who was looking at me
the other day. I think about whether Aunt Johnnie will have time to cut my hair
before the ceremony. Thinking gets harder when you’re cold.
Poor Billy Ray. I look at him
floating on his back. “Jobie, I’m getting cold. Should we get out?” I scan the
sides of the quarry looking for something to climb up on. Six foot slab walls.
Straight up. He must have read my mind. I don’t want to tell Billy Ray about
the rope ladder, because he will think it’s his fault. He's that kind of person.
The one who is always saying “sorry, sorry” even though they didn’t do anything
wrong. “Let's swim over yonder and see if we can see a ledge or something to
climb up on.” Or hang on to. Until somebody finds us.
I am a red-tailed hawk.
Big Lettie was so worried by
dinnertime that she lumbered her way across the field to knock on our back
door. She was sweating something awful when she got there. Her hair was frizzed
out and her Mary Kay Really Red lipstick was smudged on her right cheek. It
kind of gives a whole new meaning to the phrase you can’t put lipstick on a pig.
Mama and Daddy turned my room upside
down looking for something that would tell them where we were. Too bad I was
never one for keeping a diary. By the time they put up the ‘Missing Person(s):
$500 Reward for Information’ posters around town, there was all kinds of
speculation. Me and Billy Ray were abducted. Me and Billy Ray ran off and
eloped. Billy Ray abducted me. Funny how nobody noticed us when were right in
front of them. In the flesh.
It was two days before somebody
found our clothes by the rope swing. When they pulled us out we were holding on
to each other for dear life. Separating two people who love each other is hard
when you’re living and apparently even harder when you’re dead. After they
found us, we became star crossed lovers who had a suicide pact. We are stars. I’m
sure Billy Ray would find all this hilarious.
Big Lettie wanted Billy Ray buried
in a copper coffin like the one Elvis was buried in, but in the end Billy Ray
was buried in the coffin that she could afford with the donations taken up at
church. I was buried in my graduation dress. Cool blue to match my eyes. Don't
be sad. For all my hopes and dreams of going off to college and becoming
something, the truth is I probably would have ended staying around and marrying
a farmer. Billy Ray would be working at the convenience store in town and
taking home free sausage biscuits to Big Lettie. At least in our passing there
was drama and mystery and all those things that keep small town people talking
about you forever. I am a red-tailed
hawk.