Page 13 of Cocky Origins: May and Jerald Cocker

“Mmhmm!”

Shutting her eyes, she takes a deep breath. “There it is! I don’t think there’s a better scent in all the world.”

Jerald follows me outside, quietly closing the door. The porch light was left on to greet Sable upon her return, and it shines a warm glow on rocking chairs that face the street, a small round table, and a stack of cut firewood lining the house.

As I sit, Jerald takes hold of the chair, steadying it so I may sit gracefully. “Thank you.”

He nods, large hands fiddling with his fedora as he sits down, balancing on the edge of his rocking chair with knees spread, shined shoes firmly balanced.

We’re silent for quite some time, so long in fact that I begin to wonder if he’ll ever say a word. I don’t want to be the first. I quite like sitting with Jerald this way. It’s comfortable and yet exciting at the same time. I’ve never sat alone with a boy before, and right now I can’t imagine ever sitting with another one.

When he does speak, his voice is thoughtful. “That’s the only thing I miss when I’m at sea.”

“What do you miss?”

He gestures toward the trees with his hat. “The cicadas.”

“Oh,” I smile, posture slumping in relaxed agreement. “Aren’t they something?”

“Most nights I doze off imagining their song. Can’t fall asleep otherwise.”

I look at his handsome profile, tilting my head as I try to imagine what life on a submarine is like. “It must be frightening knowing there’s water all around you like that.”

He blinks to the hat slowly spinning in his hands, blonde eyelashes heavy. “I’m not frightened, May. Especially not by the ocean. No, I’m certainly not frightened of that. I can’t fall asleep because a man has to stay alert with the job I’ve got.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Hank said he sees you at church.”

“I heard that but I can’t honestly say I remember him.” Jerald laughs and I immediately explain, “I don’t mean he’s not memorable, it’s just I never noticed him.“ Realizing that also doesn’t sound very flattering I frown and try again. “You see, for the past few years we watch after some of the children in our neighborhood. Sometimes it’s as many as five, and I’m often occupied with keeping them contained. Father gets frustrated and Mother only cares about her hymns once we’ve arrived — she’s very devout — so it’s up to me, and they really are a handful.“

“Is that your job? Babysitting, I mean.”

“Oh no, we don’t get paid for it! And it’s normally Mother who watches after them. But on Sundays, you see, it falls on me for the reasons I just explained. But it’s not a job by any means. Many of the women who live nearby pile into a pickup truck and ride to the Air Force Base down in Valdosta. Most of them go to church, too, but in order to save gas, what with it being rationed, some have taken to staying more local, renting a room with other women. And we are more than happy to lend them a hand here.”

I stop short from explaining my mother’s plight, because I feel I dominated the conversation too much already.

Jerald doesn’t seem to mind.

He’s staring at me intently as if he’s interested in what I have to say.

I offer a smile and fold my hands onto my lap. “That’s why I hadn’t noticed your brother.”

It takes him a moment to speak, during which I feel my body get warm by how he’s watching me. As if he knows that, he smiles and licks his lips to offer, “There are two churches we attend, so it’s even less likely you would’ve run into each other. I just figured after what was said in there…”

“Two churches? Do your parents practice separate religions?”

Jerald nods, hat spinning slowly with thoughtful fingers. “My Father is Catholic and my Mother is Protestant.”

A small bright green bug lands on my blue dress. I almost swat it away but stop myself just in time. “Oh look! A katydid!”

Jerald leans to see better. “You named the grasshopper already?”

“No silly!” I laugh. “This is a katydid. That’s what it’s called!”

“Looks like a grasshopper to me.”

Touching my finger to my lips, I concentrate on it. “We learned about them — I believe I was only around six or seven. Can’t recall exactly, but I was very young. I see them now and again, but not so often as I’d like. I believe they’re lucky. Are you superstitious?”

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