Me and Rupert Goody Read Free

strong feeling that, inside, things were different. As I walked, I chanted to myself, “Please, Lord, let Rupert be gone. Please, Lord, let Rupert be gone.”
    When I got closer, I saw the “Open” sign and the bargain table. I heard Jake’s tail thumping same as always. Then
Rupert Goody came around from behind the store, carrying a bucket, and I felt like somebody punched me right between the eyes.
    When he saw me, he smiled and waved like I was his friend. Water sloshed over the sides of the bucket.
    â€œWhat you doing here?” I said, mean as I could.
    â€œWashing milk crates.”
    â€œWhat you washing milk crates for?”
    â€œUncle Beau told me to.”
    â€œHe ain’t your uncle.”
    I stood between him and the door and gave him my best glare, but it didn’t seem to faze him a bit.
    â€œHow long you planning on staying?” I said.
    Rupert lowered his head and looked down at the bucket in his hand. I leaned over and looked up into his face.
    â€œYou hear me?” I said.
    He lifted his shoulders and let them fall back down. He had on the same grimy T-shirt as yesterday Smelled like tuna fish.
    â€œIs that you, Jennalee?” Uncle Beau called from inside the store.
    â€œNo, it’s Gravel Gertie,” I said real low through my clenched teeth. When I got inside, first thing I saw was the doughnuts already on the plate on the counter.
    Uncle Beau looked at the doughnuts and back at me.
    â€œJake ain’t had his yet,” he said.
    I dropped my backpack and sat on the bench by the
checkout counter. I looked down at my wet sneakers. Pulled my sock up. Licked my finger and wiped dirt off my knee.
    â€œYou and I need to talk, Jennalee,” Uncle Beau said.
    â€œAbout what?”
    â€œAbout Rupert.”
    I could hear water splashing on the porch and Rupert making grunting noises. I kept my eyes on my feet.
    â€œRupert is my son, Jennalee.”
    I made myself look at Uncle Beau. He had those droopy-dog eyes of his. I watched him rubbing Jake behind the ears.
    â€œWhat you talking about, Uncle Beau?” I said. “You talking about that black man out there on the porch?” As far as I was concerned, it didn’t take a genius to see that Rupert Goody didn’t have one little bit of Uncle Beau in him. Sure, Uncle Beau’s name was Goody, too. Beauregarde Goody But having the name Goody didn’t mean nothing. Shoot, anybody could call theirselves Goody if they wanted to.
    â€œI had a woman once,” Uncle Beau said. “Sweetest woman this side of heaven.”
    â€œAw, hell, Uncle Beau,” I said. “I don’t want to hear this.” I set a bit of a smile on my face cause I knew Uncle Beau didn’t like it when I cussed.
    He pushed through the curtain that hung over the door to his room and disappeared inside. For one scary minute I thought he wasn’t going to come back out. Thought that
was the end of this conversation. But he came out holding a picture and handed it to me.
    â€œThis here is Hattie Baker,” he said.
    I looked at the wrinkled black-and-white picture. A young black woman in a sundress sat on a blanket in the shade. She held a bunch of wildflowers in one hand and smiled. No, more than smiled. Laughed. She was laughing and I swear I could almost hear her.
    I studied everything about her. Her hair pulled back tight. A necklace of tiny pearls. No shoes. White socks with lace around the edges. Her skin dark and smooth.
    I looked at Uncle Beau. He was staring off into space, still rubbing Jake’s ears. I shook my head, trying to get my scrambled-up thoughts to fall into place. Uncle Beau and this Hattie woman was a bit more than I could digest.
    I looked at the picture again. Hattie looked back at me. She wasn’t pretty, but I have to admit she had a look of goodness to her. I tried to imagine Uncle Beau sitting on the blanket beside her. His arm around her. Handing her those