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O is for Oddball

Billie Louise Jones

    Velvet Goslee was named after her mother’s favorite movie, starring Elizabeth Taylor. Velvet had golden hair that twined into Southern belle curls, enormous blue-violet eyes, and more dimples than Shirley temple. After her mama died when the thoroughbred threw her and stepped on her, Velvet had two grandmothers and five aunts who competed to take care of her and make her dresses, bows, and silk flower barrettes. In the evening, her daddy set her on his lap and read to her, his finger moving under the lines so that she quickly associated the print with the sound. Velvet had dolls and teddy bears, a Scottie dog, a sunny room with dotted swiss curtains, a little radio and picture books, a tea set and a play stove. The one thing her daddy would never do for her was give her a pony. Velvet was a precious angel who was adored by everyone who saw her.
    Velvet knew that Daddy did something called The Law, which required him to make overnight trips from their small town in Arkansas to Hot Springs to try out cases in The Court. One or the other of the grandmothers took care of Velvet then. “You try out so many cases,” Velvet said one time when he got home, “I hope you find one that works. Then you won’t have to go away and try out anymore.” Daddy whooped and lifted Velvet up to his shoulders. The grandparents and the aunts broke into big smiles that beamed on Velvet like rays of love. Velvet did not know exactly what it was that she had said or done that was so adorable, but she always knew when she was adorable.
    One day, Daddy told Velvet he was going to bring a dear friend to visit from Hot Springs, so that she could meet Velvet. It seemed natural to Velvet that anyone would want to meet her. Both of the grandmothers were there to get her ready – curls, a head band with little white flowers, a new black velvet dress with a white lace collar, white socks, black patent leather shoes. Velvet and the Scottie hung over the sofa back and watched out the front window. When Daddy’s car pulled into the drive, she ran out with the Scottie at her heels.
    Daddy’s dear friend was a young lady, Miss Connie Perkins, with black hair trimmed like pixies in picture books, wearing a pretty blue dress. Velvet spread her skirt out, bent one knee, and pointed the other toe. She could tell that Miss Perkins loved her little curtsy.
    “I’m so pleased to meet you, Miss Perkins.”
    “Please call me ‘Aunt Connie.’”
    Velvet was delighted: another aunt to make a fuss over her.
    The grandmothers had fixed a platter of fried chicken and an apple pie and a coconut cake. The grandmothers asked Aunt Connie a lot of questions. When Daddy had to drive Aunt Connie back to Hot Springs, Velvet and the Scottie followed them out to the porch and watched till the car turned the corner.
    Velvet went back to the living room. The grandmothers sat on the sofa, heads together with tight-lipped looks. When they saw Velvet, they flapped their hands at her to get out. It was the first time Velvet had ever been shooed away. She heard a grandmother say, “Her d-i-v-o-r-c-e....”
    Not long after that, Daddy set Velvet on his lap; but instead of opening her picture book, he wanted to have an important talk.
    “Aunt Connie loves you already. Do you think you can love Aunt Connie?”
    Velvet nodded her head so positively that her curls bounced. Daddy looked pleased.
    “Aunt Connie is coming to live with us. Would you like that?”
    Velvet saw that he wanted her to like it, but she did not understand. She nodded, once.
    “Aunt Connie has a little girl of her own, just your age. She’ll be a sister for you. Would you – “
    “No!” Velvet’s eyes and mouth formed big, shocked circles. Her sunny room, her toys, her Scottie, her grandmothers and aunts, all the attention – hers, hers alone. “No! I don’t want another little girl here!”
    Daddy spoke in a reasoning tone to Velvet, the tone meant he intended for her to do something she did not want to do. Velvet drummed her heels on the sofa cushion. Pouts brought out her dimples as much as smiles.
    Daddy said, “We’ll be a family, Velvet. You’ll love it.”
    “I won’t!”
    Velvet threw herself off Daddy’s lap and down on the floor. She squalled and pitched herself from side to side, kicked her feet and beat her fists, howled till she turned red in the face. Her dress hiked up over her ruffled panties. Scared, the Scottie ran around in circles barking.
    “That’s enough, Velvet.”
    He picked her up, turned her over his knee, and spanked her. The shock shut her up. Daddy put Velvet down on the floor. She wiped her eyes and nose and pointed her finger at him.
    “You hurt me.”
    Daddy rubbed his eyes.

    Olivia Perkins was a little girl who learned to be quiet almost before she learned to talk. She had straight black hair and bangs down to her glasses, wide cheeks, and a small chin and mouth. The big, round glasses gave her a little owl face. She never remembered how she first learned to be watchful, so that she would know when to run and hide under her bed. Daddy might come in whistling, call out cheerfully for his girls, hug Mama, and feed Olivia jelly beans. Or Daddy might come in with his mouth and eyes narrowed to slits, clench and unclench his fists, and snap off his words like he was biting them; and everything Mama and Olivia did would be wrong. Olivia learned when it was time for Daddy to come in by watching Mama put the pots on the stove and look out the window. There was a pain in her stomach until Daddy opened the door and she could see on his face how it would be that night. There were nights when Daddy came in much later than usual, when Olivia was already in bed. Olivia heard Daddy beat his fists on the table or the wall; she might hear Mama cry out. She got so scared she hid under the bed. There was the night Mama locked Daddy out of the house. Olivia heard him roaring around the house knocking on windows. She heard shouts from neighbors. She heard a sound she later learned was a siren. Then it was quiet. Mama was crying when she came into Olivia’s room, pulled her out from under the bed, and got in bed with her. Olivia was too scared to ask what had happened.
    Olivia’s strongest memory, so strong she felt she lived it again, would always be a night Daddy came in late. In her bed, she heard him beat the wall and throw chairs around. Under the bed, she heard mama scream. She heard him yell, “Shut up! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill her!” She heard nothing more from Mama. She heard Daddy yelling and banging his fists. When the house got quiet, Mama came into her room and pulled her out from under the bed.
    “Shhhh. We’re going to Grandma’s.”
    When they went through the front room, Olivia saw Daddy asleep on the sofa, head thrown back, snoring harshly. She saw that Mama’s face was bruised and her nose bleeding. “Shhhh....” Mama carried Olivia on her hip and walked through the night to Grandma’s house.
    The next day, Daddy came to Grandma’s and talked to Mama in the front room. Olivia stayed in the back bedroom. Grandma came in. “Your daddy’s here. Don’t you want to come see him?” Olivia started shaking and crying. After wheedling a few minutes, Grandma left her alone.
    After Daddy drove away, Olivia heard Grandma say to Mama, “He makes good money. Can’t y’all work it out someway?”
    Mama went to work in a bookstore, and Grandma watched Olivia. She tried to be very quiet and still so that she would not bother Grandma. After a time, Grandma took to sleeping most of the day. Olivia looked through the picture books Mama brought her from the store.
    Mama took Olivia to the bookstore with her. Olivia’s big ears heard mama say to the other lady in the store, “Ma’s off the wagon again. I can’t leave her there. You know what they pay me, I can’t pay a babysitter. She can stay in the back room. She’s quiet.”
    “As long as she doesn’t get into stuff.”
    Olivia learned her letters from mama when the store was not busy. She quickly learned how the letters went together to make words; then her eye grasped groups of words and their meaning. Olivia picked out books and carried them to the back room. Sometimes when Mama rolled a cart full of books around the store, Olivia rode on the bottom shelf. Customers in the store made on over her. They seemed charmed by her shy smile and the book she always carried, that she already knew how to read, even though she did not chatter away for them.
    “Olivia, this is my friend, Bert Goslee. I’ve wanted you two to meet.”
    Mama’s friend was a man with a thin face and light hair, an easy smile, a nice voice. He went down on one knee so he could talk to Olivia at eye level. “I’ve wanted to meet you, Olivia. I’ve got a little girl just your age. She loves fried chicken. Do you like fried chicken?”
    Olivia nodded. He took them to a place where the waitress put a whole platter of fried chicken on the table. Mr. Goslee tried to draw Olivia out; but she was too shy, too guarded, to talk freely until he asked her about books. That won him a stream of enthusiastic talk about the Little Golden Books.
    “My little girl, Velvet, can read too. And she hasn’t even started to school yet either.”

    Velvet and Olivia stood beside Bert Goslee and Connie Perkins when they got married. The girls looked as sweet as could be in pink dresses and silk flower wreaths. The party with the cake, frosted with sugar roses, a bridal couple on top, was so happy that no one noticed the girls did not say anything to each other. Velvet’s grandmothers fussed over who got to take Velvet and Olivia home first, while the newlyweds went on their honeymoon. Velvet expected that she would be folded into her grandparents’ arms. Olivia hardly believed they included her too.
    The girls lived in the same house, separately. When another little girl’s bed was moved into her sunny room, Velvet burst into tears. Daddy reproached her; Olivia was a little girl who deserved a happy home too. Only the promise of another spanking made her quiet. Velvet felt amazement close to horror, and Olivia felt amazement close to worship, when the grandmothers and the aunts made clothes for Olivia and took Olivia shopping, so that Olivia could have as many dresses and toys as Velvet. Velvet watched Olivia as if lying in wait. Olivia watched Velvet as if on guard. Velvet never tried to charm Olivia. Olivia never tried to get Velvet to like her. The Scottie was overjoyed to have two little girls pet him.

    Velvet and Olivia started the first grade. All over town, children walked to school. Velvet and Olivia set out together, carrying their notebooks, pencil boxes, and lunch sacks. A little boy saw them, waited by his gate, and went on with them. Children waited or caught up with each other, until groups of different ages converged on the schoolhouse, a red brick building with white stone trim on the corners. After school, the children moved off in groups, with children peeling off the group the way they had attached.
    After six weeks, the first graders got their first ever report cards. The children walked home and compared their report cards. Velvet, of course, got an S for Satisfactory. A few got U’s for Unsatisfactory. These little boys were the ones who sat in the back and made noises, and they strutted as if a U was something to show off. Olivia, who was always very quiet, held her card close to her eyes as if that could help her understand it; her round glasses added even more puzzlement to her face. Her report card had an O. The children passed it around. What did an O mean?
    Velvet was inspired. She looked straight at Olivia and bared her teeth. “O is for Oddball.”
    Another little girl giggled. Olivia wailed. Her face broke open in a cloudburst of tears and wails. She sobbed and stumbled all the way home, while the other little girls teased, Velvet beamed, and the little U boys ran circles around the group hooting, “O is for Oddball!”
    Olivia ran sobbing to Mama Connie, her own Mama; and her Mama called the school. When Daddy Bert, Velvet’s own Daddy, got home, even before supper he took Velvet into the living room. He looked very stern.
    “Velvet, O is for Outstanding. You ought to be proud for Olivia. And it’s not nice to tease.”
    Daddy turned Velvet over his knee and spanked her. A few pats, but Velvet was so shocked she cried. Daddy stood her up and made her promise to apologize to Olivia. Over Daddy’s shoulder, where Daddy couldn’t see, Velvet saw Olivia’s head peeking around the door. Olivia bared her teeth at Velvet, then scooted before Daddy saw her.

    Children skated in the middle of quiet streets; they wore roller skates that fastened onto their shoes with keys. At one end of the block, Olivia skated out a story in her mind about an ice princess who skimmed over a frozen lake. She saw one of the big U boys walk into their family yard and pick the Scottie up by the skin on his back. The Scottie yelped. Everyone knew that big U boy was mean to animals. Terrified, but knowing she had to save the Scottie, Olivia skated onto the sidewalk and went after the big U boy. She beat her fists on his back. He swatted her away. She squatted down and threw handfuls of dirt and rocks at him.
    Velvet saw what was happening and skated at top speed to the crime scene, the other children behind her. The big U boy dropped the Scottie. He tried to back off as if nothing had happened. No one was fooled. They all threw dirt and rocks at him and skated after him yelling and throwing sticks, and the Scottie nipped at his heels, until the big U boy ran.
    Velvet, the Scottie safe in her arms, skated around to face Olivia. She wanted to let Olivia know that she had proved herself to Velvet and Velvet was now her friend. Olivia skated away from her. It came over Velvet like a bolt of lightning: the incredible fact that she, Velvet, would have to prove herself to Olivia.
    And that made all the difference.

    Olivia kept her second report card pressed to her chest. A chunky older girl, who picked on littler girls, reached for the card. Olivia held tight to her card. The chunky girl pulled at her hand. “Oddball! Oddball!” Some other children were ready to start hooting. Olivia’s mouth shook and her eyes watered. She knew she was about to bawl, and that would only make it worse.
    Velvet knew then that she had to make a decision. She put her face up to the chunky girl’s. “Let her alone!”
    The chunky girl laughed at Velvet. “Or you’ll do what?”
    “You big meanie!” Velvet filled her lungs and bellowed, “You stink!”
    Olivia saw that she was not alone and that trust was possible. It was like the sun coming out after a storm. The girls walked home with their arms around each other’s waists.

    Still giggling over a game of let’s pretend – to be teachers! – the girls and the Scottie got on the sofa between Daddy Bert and Mama Connie. This was to be a family talk, and they knew they were supposed to be serious. Daddy Bert and Mama Connie looked very grown up. The girls tried to put on long faces.
    “We’ve been a family for a year,” Daddy Bert said. “We all love each other and we’re happy – don’t you girls think so?”
    The girls nodded so enthusiastically that Velvet’s curls bounced and Olivia’s glasses slipped down her nose.
    Daddy Bert and Mama Connie looked at each other as if they did not quite know how to proceed.
    “How would you like to have a little baby brother or sister?” Mama Connie said. “A baby who would be kin to both of you, and that would make you real sisters.”
    Velvet squealed. Several of her friends had baby brothers or sisters. A baby of their own was exactly what she wanted.
    Daddy Bert said, “The stork just might bring a baby to our house for Christmas.”
    “Daddy Bert,” Olivia said very precisely, “the baby comes out of the mother’s uterus.”
    From the way Daddy Bert and Mama Connie hugged them and kissed them and carried on, Olivia guessed she had said something adorable, for the first time in her life.

    Little Bert took his first walk outdoors with a big sister on each side of him. He hung onto a finger of each sister’s hand. They helped Little Bert down the three front steps. They watched Little Bert carefully when he negotiated the cracks between the cement squares. He looked straight ahead, where he was going, not down; he completely trusted the fingers he clung to, never a thought he couldn’t. Little Bert was wrapped in love, safety, happiness.
    And that made all the difference.

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