Boondocks

Chapter 9: Scent

FERN

Fall was not the time for bathing in the river. Yet, despite the muscle tightening cold, I relished the chore. The soap was ivory white, and the shampoo a simple orange colored chemical goo. I didn't care. It was luxurious. Using the scrubby Julia provided, I lathered and worked every ounce of dirt from my skin.

It had been ages since I'd seen my natural complexion. Porcelain like Mama's. I'd hated it before. I wanted to be tan like Daddy and John and all the girls at our church, but a stubborn streak of Scottish lineage caused burns that never did anything other than hurt. Now, I stared at myself, reminded of her and glad to have at least some part to keep with me.

Julia offered me a new pair of jeans and a thermal shirt, so I washed the dirt from the clothes I'd worn and hung them over tree limbs close-by. The thermal smelled like laundry soap, and I stood frozen for a moment after I slid it into place. I saw our wash bin, the clothes line out back, and Mama hanging sheets in her blue dress.

I gripped the hem and pulled it to my nose, breathing deep as I sank deeper. If I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend I was there.

I yanked it down and ran my palms over my eyes. If I didn't stay focused on the present, I'd never survive. I slid on my boots and headed up the bank, forcing my mind back to tasks. I needed a new shelter, and a fire before nightfall. I needed to scout the area and pick a place to camp nearby, preferably one without talking rabbits.

When I made it back to Julia, she was waiting with a brush in one hand, and a coat in the other. "Here. This is for you, too."

I took it and slid it on. It was a men's coat and about five sizes too large. The heavy dark brown leather fit me like a tent and would do well against the rain. Plus, it smelled different than the shirt. The chemical flowers of detergent faded away as campfire and hickory took its place.

"Have a seat, girl." She motioned to a stump as she stepped around and sat down in a lawn chair behind it.

"I can do it." I moved to take the brush from her hand.

She pulled it out of reach. "That mop? It would take you all damn day. Sit your ass right here and let me." She waited until I'd done as told, then ran her fingers lightly through the worst of the knots. "I'm a pro at this kind of thing." Her voice softened. "The last time I found someone as neglected as you, I couldn't even see his face for all the scruff he had."

Julia was a contradiction as she worked, gentle hands and sharp curses. She complained the whole time beneath her breath but didn't tug at my scalp or yank at the strands. She separated the clumps, held the sections and slowly worked her way from the bottom to the top. The battle between the before and after waged inside my mind. Too many memories existed in this place. Her hands were Mama's hands, no matter how much I focused on the fact that they weren't. When she was done, she smoothed it with her palms then pulled some forward to frame my face. "There. See? You have very pretty hair."

It had gotten so long. The tips of each side brushed at my thighs, an ashy blonde it hadn't been in ages. "Wow," I said, pulling the strands between my fingers. "It's been a while since it's looked like that." I turned to face her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She tossed the brush into an open bag by her chair. "Tex came by, but you were still bathing. He'll be back. In the meantime, he said you know a lot about plants. That true?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Follow me. I've got a garden I've been working on. Maybe you can help me out until he comes back."

She turned and started walking away without waiting for agreement, and I had the sudden sensation that I was being babysat.

Regardless, I followed her through the brush and into a small clearing. A square filled the space, stretching about twenty feet in each direction, and an array of greens formed tidy rows from one end to the other. I stepped past her to get a closer look at the soil. One scoop of my hand revealed three worms and moist earth. "This is good dirt."