Leaving Serenity Read Free

side of the church sanctuary portrayed Jesus holding a lamb, Jesus standing on water, and Mary holding Baby Jesus. I hid in the cloakroom behind a small red-paned window. My heart raced as I watched my brothers dig through the shrubbery around the church.
    “Did you find her yet?”  Adam called out to Jeff.
    Jeff balled his fists and stomped his foot. “Nah, God-dang it!
    Beth propped her tiny hands on her non-existent hips. “I’m telling Mama you said that.”
    Jeff made a face at Beth and shook his head. “It just gets my goat, that’s all! We spend every Sunday afternoon looking for her but can never find her.”
    Adam threw a baseball in the air and grabbed it with his mitt. “Ah, who cares about her? Forget her! She’ll show up when it’s time to eat. Let’s play some catch.”
    Jeff tagged along behind Adam and snickered. “Yeah, maybe she won’t come back, and I can have her piece of chicken!”
    Beth stuck her butt out, making the skirt of her dress look like a tent. “I’m telling Mama you said that.”
    The Grocery
    The diagonal parking spaces along Main Street were filled with huge, gas guzzling cars in the 1960s. Mama parked our Chevrolet station wagon in the alleyway behind Earl Sneed’s grocery. I hung on to Beth’s hand as we rushed to keep up with Mama and the boys. The boys hopped up on stacked apple crates in front of the grocery and snagged fresh apples from the open bins. Beth and I followed Mama into the dark, quiet store. Up high, big fans moved slowly in the breeze that drifted through the open back door. The fat, wooden floor echoed the tap of Mama’s high heeled pumps.
    Mrs. Sneed greeted us from the other side of a big counter that held jars of candy next to a gold cash register where she kept the money. “Well, good morning there, little ladies! Mrs. Bevels, I hope you’re doing well this fine day.”
    Mama’s face pinched into a tight-lipped smile when she met Mrs. Sneed. I looked at Mrs. Sneed’s big bosoms and puffy, red cheeks. She smiled at me. I could tell that Mama didn’t like talking to Mrs. Sneed, but I thought she was a nice lady.
    “Thank you, Cora, just fine.”
    Mama’s stiff cotton skirt brushed across my face as she swept around. “Now, girls, you stay here with Mrs. Sneed while I pick up my order at the meat counter.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Beth answered as she watched Mama walk to the back of the store. When Mama was out of sight, she turned to Mrs. Sneed and flashed her brand-new teeth.
    “Will you play a game with me?”
    Mrs. Sneed rested her bosoms on the counter. “What kind of game would you like to play?”
    Beth put a finger to her mouth and scrunched her face l ike she was thinking real hard.
    “Ahh, I know. How about I guess how many peppermint sticks are in that jar and then you tell me if I’m right?”
    Mrs. Sneed’s cheeks jiggled. “Well, that sounds like a fine game. Who will go first?”
    Beth wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “Oh, Annette can’t play.”
    Mrs. Sneed’s mouth flew open. “Why not?”
    I crossed my arms, scowled, and blew out a big breath of air. “Why can’t I play?”
    Beth looked just like Mama when she pinched her lips together and said, “ ’Cause Mama said that you ain’ t a bright little cookie like me.”
    Mrs. Sneed teased Beth. “O h, is that right ? ”
    Beth briskly bobbed her head.
    “Well, that’s a real shame. Okay, you can play. And if you get the right answer, I’ll give both of you a peppermint stick. How’s that?”
    Beth leaned into my shoulder and giggled. “Did you hear that, Annette? I’ll get one for you, too.”
    My eyes stayed on the lady with big bosoms counting the peppermint sticks. Beth guessed that there were a hundred sticks in that little jar. Mrs. Sneed said she was right, but I counted only twelve. Beth grabbed her peppermint stick from Mrs. Sneed’s hand. I reached for mine just in time to hear Mama’s shoes tap up behind us.
    “No, no. Annette, you give that