Crow Secrets

It happened on the couch on our front porch. That old couch that had been out there since Mama decided a few years back that we needed a new one. Some new neighbors moved in down the road and she saw the fancy couch that they pulled out of the back of the moving truck. Daddy said he didn’t think there was anything all that special about it, but Mama did. She went on for days about the white, lacy upholstery and wonderful leather trim. For the next week, whenever she walked through the family room, she would look at our couch and sigh. And the louder she would sigh, the more frustrated Daddy would get. White upholstery wouldn’t last three seconds in this house with all us kids runnin’ round and all the dirt comin’ in from the farmhouse every time someone opened and shut the kitchen door, he would say. Daddy was right. I didn’t think the neighbors’ couch was gunna look real great after one of our long, dry summers when the dust crept in even the tightest shut windows and layered itself up in every nook and cranny. Heck, the white linen napkins that were tucked away in the dining room drawer even seemed to turn brown in the summer. Mama knew this was true too and eventually said that it didn’t have to be white, but that she still wanted a new one. And she continued to sigh every morning as she passed the couch on her way to make breakfast for me and Jake and the twins. And then, one day, comin’ home from school, there was our couch, out on the porch. When I went inside, I found Mama sittin’ all smiles on a brand new blue couch. She was quick to point out the carved mahogany feet. The neighbors’ couch didn’t have no carved mahogany feet.

And so, there was our old couch, banished to the outside, its little pink flowers that were sewn into the darker pink fabric wiltin’ in the shade of the front porch. It wasn’t long before the entire thing seemed to take on the general outside county color. For the first few months it was nice to have a comfy place to sit out there. We didn’t have a nice swing on our porch like Lilly May and so I was usually forced to sit on the splintery steps while Daddy sat in his rocking chair and Mama sat next to him on a thick tree stump covered with a cushion she had made from used kitchen towels. But now there was a couch and I could sink down into the worn cushions and let the fresh spring breeze blow over my toes when I propped my bare feet up on the armrest. But, like I said, summers were dry and dusty and after just one July week the outside couch was covered with so much farmhouse dirt that your clothes would be caked in it if you even tried to balance yourself on the edge of one of its cushions.

But we left that couch out there. I reckon Daddy didn’t want to let it go, lots of memories on that old thing, he said. And Mama couldn’t be bothered calling up the big truck from town to have it hauled away. So, it was just left out there. Sometimes I would go out and brush the dirt off the cushion and just sit for a while, watching the world move in front of me. It didn’t move all that much here, but I liked that. It was my peaceful place to get away from all the business of the inside. The screams of Jamie or Clay and Mama yelling at Jake to get down from there and Daddy hollering for them all to quiet it down ‘cause he couldn’t hear himself think. All of that would just drift away in the wind as I watched Mr. McGraddy’s windmill spin alongside his old silo there across the road.

I remember watching a crow jump around on that windmill one day. Mama always said crows were bad luck, but Daddy said only if you weren’t no good at farmin’. He was never one to blame his shortcomings on the superstitions of the country folk. I kind of liked the crows. They always looked like they had some dark secret that they couldn’t tell nobody. Maybe that’s what they were always crowin’ about. Maybe if someone just stopped and listened for a while, they would give up their secrets and move along. Maybe not.

Well, one day this crow seemed to be playin’ with Mr. McGraddy’s windmill. He would fly around and then come to rest on one of its old wooden blades. He would just plop his body down and rest there until the thing started to move. Then, he would ride it for as long as he could, until the thing was about to dump the poor crow right off and the crow would fly up, take a lap around the silo, and land right back on the top of that windmill to do it all over again. That seemed to be the way of life here. Laps around silos. Nothin’ changing. Just hangin’ on until life was about to dump you off and then findin’ a way to right yourself all over again.

I was fifteen when my secret happened. Mama said I was still too young to be wearin’ any make-up and so I had borrowed some from the bottom drawer in her bathroom without her knowin’. She would be in town ‘til late that day and so I didn’t have to worry about her catchin’ me. Besides, it was a light shade of pink lipstick, Mama didn’t have nothin’ but light pink, and you could barely tell it was there. I looked in the mirror and pouted my lips like the girl on the big billboard out on the highway. I didn’t look nothin’ like her, but I thought the lipstick helped a little. I pressed my lips out and batted my eyelashes a bit. Maybe another layer of the makeup would have helped, but just then Daddy came in the back door and I had to throw the lipstick back in Mama’s drawer and hurry out before he caught me. Daddy definitely didn’t want me lookin’ like no girl on no billboard.

When Jimmy showed up later that night, he said he wouldn’t mind just hangin’ out on the porch. Wasn’t much going on anywhere else. It was late in the summer, and the country fair had already moved on. There was a movie playin’ at the small drive-in down the road, but we had both already seen it twice. The first time I saw it was with some friends on a Friday night back before school let out. The second time was with Jimmy. It was on our first date and even though we had both seen it before, we decided there was no harm seein’ it again. I’d only been in a car alone with a boy once before, but he had just been givin’ me a ride home from school and nothin’ had happened. So being in a car alone with Jimmy at the drive-in sounded quite exciting. Nothin’ had happened then either, except for when the projector broke down for a second and we were waiting for it to get fixed, Jimmy reached over and held my hand. When the screen came back to life he quickly pulled his hand away.

This was back in the days when Jimmy was something special to me. Nobody else really noticed him much, but I liked that about him. He wasn’t a particularly shy boy, but he never said much unless something really needed to be said. We met at the church social the year before when he offered to pour me a drink. He had been standing alone by the drink table for a while and said I wasn’t botherin’ him none. So, he poured some apple juice into my ‘I heart Jesus’ paper cup and I stayed to talk a while. He had moved to town when he was twelve when his parents had decided to leave the city for “a simpler life”. He told me stories about tall apartment buildings and school trips to the museums and the zoo. I found him to be fascinating. He was different than all the other boys who could only talk about all the stuff I already knew. You can only talk about tractors and hog-tying for so long.

And so, it was on that night out on the couch that Jimmy was telling me another interesting story about city life that I found myself leanin’ in towards him and restin’ my head on his shoulder. I had brushed off a small patch of cushion the best I could and so we sat real close. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of the country air mixed with Jimmy’s aftershave. And then, Jimmy put his arm around me and pulled my shoulder down against the armrest of the couch. Suddenly he was lyin’ on top of me and pressing his lips against mine. I could feel the thin layer of Mama’s lipstick sliding along between us. This wasn’t my first kiss, but it was my first with a boy that I really liked. But before I could enjoy it for very long, we weren’t kissin’ anymore. Jimmy had his head buried down against my neck and his hand was frantically undoing the top button on my jeans. I froze. I didn’t know what to do. I liked him and he had said he really liked me. Maybe this was how people showed each other their feelin’s in the city.

“Jimmy?” I whispered, but he already had his hand deep inside my jeans and was feelin’ around the edge of my underwear. I was gettin’ a funny feeling in my stomach but I knew he liked what he was doin’ because I could feel his lips on my neck curl into a smile. I wanted to escape, but my body was trapped. And so, I let my mind hide. Deep down in those dirty cushions. I thought about the flowers beneath me and how the dust was covering their beautiful petals.

I can’t really remember how long it was until the headlights from a truck comin’ down the road scared Jimmy off of me, but in my mind, it felt like forever. He quickly jumped to the other end of the couch and sat there with his hands coverin’ his lap and lookin’ proud and guilty at the same time. I wasn’t sure what it was he had just done, but I knew I didn’t like it. I also knew I couldn’t never tell no one about it neither. I quickly buttoned my pants back up and went to run back into the house. As I passed him, Jimmy grabbed my arm and looked up at me. He didn’t say nothin’ but there was a pleading look in his eyes. One like what the cows get after they haven’t been milked in a while. I quickly pulled my arm back. I didn’t like his touch anymore. I went inside and closed the door behind me hard. I don’t know how long Jimmy was out there on that couch after I left, but Mama came back a half hour later and she didn’t say nothin’ about him, so I reckon he was gone by then.

I never talked to Jimmy after that. And I never sat back on that couch neither. Just the thought of the feel of it would turn my stomach raw. I’m fine sittin’ on this splintery step. I lean up against the old wooden banister and watch the crows across the road. They have their secrets and now I have mine.