Page 8 of Saving Grace

“Atticus,” he answered, without looking at me or asking mine, so I volunteered.

“I’m Grace. Don’t we go to the same school?” He raised his eyes, searched my face for recognition and when he saw it fear blanketed his eyes widened.

“Please don’t tell my daddy you saw me.” He suddenly jumped up from the blanket, watching me as he ran backwards heading towards the woods, moving so fast.

“Stop!” I yelled, getting up and running after him. “I wouldn’t do that; I have no reason to.”

Then and only then did he stop.

He stared at me with suspicious eyes. I wanted to ask him why he was so scared of his daddy. My daddy had died when I was five. I’d do anything to have him there. To have somebody else to love besides my granny, who had solely been raising me for most of my life. Not soon after my daddy died, my mom had run off and left me with her mother.

But his relationship with his daddy wasn’t none of my business, so I kept the question to myself and offered him some clean clothes. I’d always been a tomboy and I refused to wear a bathing suit. Last time I did, all the boys had made lewd comments. I wasn’t stacked or anything, but I had curves like girls three or four years older than me, so I had an old pair of my uncle’s basketball shorts and a t-shirt to swim in. Though I was a bit bigger than him, I knew he could probably fit into them. When he agreed to take the clothes, I gave him some strawberry scented soap I’d just bought, so he could use it to wash.

I gave him the blanket I’d been sitting on to wrap around him. He’d gone into the woods and changed out of his old, dirty clothes. Luckily, he didn’t have to wash in the lake. There were two public shower stalls not too far from the beach, but you had to put two quarters in a machine to get it started.

I only had enough money for him to wash once, he really needed to shower at least twice to get his greasy hair clean, but he smelled a whole lot better by the time he was done.

“You need to get home,” he repeated as soon as he was dressed. As I suspected, the clothes fit him loosely.

I didn’t argue with him. I wanted to stay longer and make sure he was okay, but I wasn’t willing to risk my Grandmomma’s wrath.

The sky had been growing darker. I checked my watch, and it was almost eight. I didn’t have much time though. I had to be home during the summers by nine and the walk was forty-five minutes.

“I’m going, but I’ll be back. Where do you stay?” I bent and started packing.

He hesitated and I thought he wasn’t going to tell me.

“I’m staying up at old man Bynum’s place.”

I scrunched up my face. I knew exactly where it was and that was gross. They’d found old man Bynum a year earlier, dead. He’d been in there for weeks before being discovered and he hadn’t been the cleanest man in life.

Imagining the condition and smell caused my stomach to roil.

“How in the world do you stay there?” I scoffed.

He shrugged. “I have no choice.”

I left it at that. Without knowing his story, I couldn’t dispute his words.

“Ok,” I nodded. “I got to go. Take this water and the blankets.” I shoved them in his direction after coming to my feet. “I’ll be back tomorrow with more supplies.”

He shook his head “No, that’s ok.” He pushed the stuff I was holding out towards him, back at me. Most people would have just left after that, I assume, but not me. I was a pushy kid and he’d saved me from being raped and possibly killed, so I was going to help him all I could, whether he liked it or not.

“Take it. I insisted. I’ll be back with more tomorrow.” I shoved the things into his arms and backed away before he could hand them back.

I gathered up my bag, grabbed my cooler, and started off towards the road. Just before I turned the corner, I looked back. He was standing in the same spot I’d left him, silently watching me. His eyes were so sad. I wanted to take him with me. Imagine that, me bringing a dirty runaway white boy, whose daddy was in the KKK home. My Granny would lose her mind.

But my heavy heart wouldn’t just let me leave him there without thanking him again.

I turned, walked back over to him, and enveloped him into a hug. He didn't return it, but that was ok with me.

“Thank you.” I whispered in his ear before turning and running off. “I’ll be here tomorrow around three!” I yelled over my shoulder.

The next day I didn’t get to leave the house until after five. My granny had me doing all types of chores to help set up for the rent party she was throwing for a neighbor. The neighbor had —had a baby on the same day her husband had run off and was in desperate need of help. So of course, Granny Rose was going to help her.

She always said charity was the closest a human could get to godliness. In the end, it worked out in my favor. I was able to get some extra supplies for Atticus. She wouldn’t miss them.

When I was finally able to slip out, I grabbed my old wagon from the shed. I put in it, two flashlights, five jugs filled with water and about twelve cans of potted meat, mostly tuna and franks and beans. A can opener, a bucket and some laundry soap and bleach and rags. I also grabbed my uncle’s old fishing stuff from his room, some sheets, a blanket, and some of the old clothes he had left behind to go work on a big fishing boat in California. He’d been gone for nearly five years. His missing clothes wouldn’t be noticed.

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