Page 20 of Cocky Origins: May and Jerald Cocker

Mother pointedly asks, “Is she a nice girl, Jerald?”

“Very nice.”

“And you fancy her?” At my silence she smiles, “I’d like to meet this May.”

“Oh, I don’t know...”

“Well, why shouldn’t I meet her?”

Hank grins at me. “Yeah, Jer, why shouldn’t she?”

“Well, on account of...” I drop my gaze.

“What is it, son? Don’t be glum about it. I am curious who has captured your interest. Can’t think of another time a girl has. Can you, Hank? Or do you know something I don’t. A boy doesn’t tell his mother everything, there isn’t any doubt about that!”

Hank has a gleam in his eye. He knows about the girls I’ve spent occasional and very temporary time with overseas. It was the very first thing he asked to know about, and I was happy to tell him. But that’s the type that happens with a sailor when he’s in foreign countries, especially at wartime, and those dames weren’t the kind you bring home to meet your folks.

As for back here in Georgia, she’s right.

“Are you seeing her again?”

“Perhaps.”

“Would you like to?”

“Perhaps.”

She smacks the blanket. “Jerald Daniel, stop being wishy-washy. If there’s one thing a Cocker isn’t, it’s that!”

“I’m not, Ma. Just private is all.”

“Well that won’t do either!”

Hank winks at me. I curl my lip in return.

Ma knows she won’t get anywhere with me now that I’ve dug my heels in, and she waves me away. “Go on now! I thought your father could aggravate me, but you’re worse.” As we head out she grumbles loud enough to make sure we hear, “Nobody tells me anything anymore!”

In the hall beside a painting of our great-great-grandfather, I sock Hank’s arm and he grabs it, laughing silently and heading off to his room.

In my room, I undress, thinking to myself that I just might do some reading.

Little do I know there’s a blue-eyed gal named May who’ll refuse to let me concentrate.

12

MAY

The conversation with Mother last night went terribly. I took lessons from Sable and lied through my teeth the entire time, saying again and again that no boy set foot in that house, cross my heart and hope to die!

She had enough of being angry and sent me to bed. But today I’m getting the silent treatment something awful and it sure is eating at me.

All through breakfast and lunch she talked with Father, and to Matthew and Margaret — the children here with us through the weekend — but when I asked a question she plain ignored me.

If I didn’t know I was guilty I’d be furious. As it stands, I am frustrated, and have gone up to my room where I can scream into my pillow.

A knock startles me, and I call out, “Come in!”

Lily walks in, making me sit bolt upright, hands clutching my poor pillow. She puts a finger to her lips and says loudly, “Oh May, I’m so glad I found you! You have to come quick!” closing the door the next second and whispering, “Did you tell your folks about the fair?” I shake my head. “Good!” In a louder-than-normal voice she says with convincing emotion, “My mom has gone into the hospital and I need to take care of my little brother, Tommy. Only I want to be with her, and he needs a baby sitter, see? Could you help me out? It would meant the world!”

---