A Cake Without Candles

Chapter One – Aunt Bethany

Summer break was almost over and I had nothing to show for myself. It seemed like only yesterday that I’d walked out of Lakewood Elementary for the very last time, my mind flooding with big ideas. This was it, the summer before middle school, and I had things to do and places to go. But in a blink summer had come and gone and nothing had gone according to plan.

Daddy was working and Cole was at camp and all I’d spent the days in the woods trying to avoid my aunt Bethany. All that was left now was the scorching heat.

A scorcher. That’s what the weatherman called it, and to his credit it turned out to be the scorchiest week on record. Of course, I didn’t know any of that when I busted in the house like a public service announcement. I found out later, when I was pleading my case to Daddy so he wouldn’t ground me for the rest of my life.  

I’d spent most of the day like all the rest, trucked under the sycamores and mimosa trees down by the creek. I’d taken some provisions, but the water didn’t last. I was dying of thirst, and I wasn’t about to start drinking from the creek, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’d seen what kinds of things turn up on the banks of the stream—oil filters and radiator fluid containers—and I’d done my best to keep it clean, just not clean enough to drink. Anyway, I was only following what the weatherman had said about staying hydrated when I ran home to my own house to fill my water jug. 

It wasn’t much cooler in there, not with Aunt Bethany parked on the couch, locking all the breeze from the box fan in the window.

“What do you think you’re doing?” my aunt yelled over both the fan and TV. Aunt Bethany stayed with me when Dad was on the road, mainly why I was always in the woods. We didn’t get along too great, which was a nice way of saying she was meaner than a mule chewing bumblebees. 

Her stupid daytime soap must’ve been on commercial, as a slick talking lawyer promised to make bill collectors pay, not the other way around.

“I need some water,” I said, waving the empty jug around. “So does Bailey.”

Aunt Bethany shook her head so hard I thought her eyes might go crossed, but her gaze managed to stay fixed to the TV. Maybe she was giving some thought to that lawyer, as she was always complaining about who’d done what to her. Mainly her sorry excuse for a boyfriend.

I started for the sink when she waved me away like I was a fly buzzing around those chocolate donuts she never shared. “Out. There’s a hose outside.”

I cocked my head and shot her my best You’ve gotta be kidding me, glare but Aunt Bethany was over it, lighting up a smoke, tapping away at some game on her phone. Her soap returned—blasting with dramatic music as some fancy pants man going on and on about how much he loved some woman. I’d tried to watch it with her a couple of times but it was worse than church. Not to Aunt Bethany, though. She sat there every day and hung on every word, talking to the make-believe characters through the TV.

My hair clung to my forehead, sticky as cotton candy. I scraped it back and rolled my eyes, held my jug out and tried again to state the obvious. “I need ice. Bailey’s going to have a heat stroke.”

Aunt Bethany threw her head up and exhaled, talking to the ceiling. “She’s worried about cold water for the dog. Lord, I’ve heard it all, now.”

I stomped my foot, an old habit I was determined to break before my eleventh birthday. “It’s a million degrees outside. “

My voice squeaked and Aunt Bethany shifted on the couch. She turned and leveled her beady eyes on me. “I don’t care, Nettie. Get out.”

Cruel but not unusual, having to deal with my aunt. Just another reason I was determined to find out where, exactly, my mama had run off to so long ago. Still, hot as I was, my aunt’s death stare gave me a shiver. Not that I let her know that. Daddy always told me to stand up for myself. He said even when I was afraid, not to let anyone push me around. This time I planted my feet (without stomping) and cocked my head. “I’m getting water for Bailey.”

The matter settled, I turned for the kitchen when something hit the floor with a bang that I felt in my chest. I turned and saw it was Aunt Bethany’s foot, as she’d scooted to the edge of the couch, her shoulders all hunched behind her ears.

“I said out.”

It was more of a growl than a statement. Her face was a deep shade of violet, the wisps of her hair like smoke leaking from her ears, those black pits of her eyes trained on me. In her hand was a rolled-up magazine, so I didn’t have to guess what she was planning.

I blasted out of the house, ducking and dodging in case something came flying at my head. I stomped off to the yard, shedding my fear as I cursed at the hard dirt and roots, where nothing grew save for some weeds and patchy grass around the wilting maple tree. My own house. It made me buzzing mad. Poor Bailey scratched his way out from the shade, tail swishing until he saw I was empty handed. And I’d forgotten his dish.

“Sorry boy,” I said, stroking his chin. “We’ll go back to the creek.”

Daddy would hear about this when he got back in town. But for now, I cut my losses and started for the hose. It was then an idea sprang at me like a cricket at daylight. Maybe I wouldn’t have to wait for Daddy, I thought, eyeing the hose with a wicked grin. Bailey must’ve known what I was up to and started cowering all over again. He wasn’t much of a fighter. But I was too mad to listen.

“She told me to get the hose, didn’t she? Well, I’ll get it all right.”

Bailey slinked back with a whimper, as I hurried around to the side of the house for the hose. I did my best to work out all the kinks and knots as I stretched it out and set it under the window where the TV blared with another commercial—this time about how great some makeup goop looked on your face. Bailey barked for me to get going but I motioned for him to hush.

Daddy wasn’t going to like how this turned out, and maybe I wasn’t going to like it either. But I was only taking back what was mine. Besides, Aunt Bethany had launched into another one of her coughing fits by then. It wasn’t like she could catch me.

I crouch-walked back to the spicket. It squeaked as I turned counterclockwise until it wouldn’t turn any more. The hose filled to life, popping and hissing at the knots as I followed it back to the front where the water came gushing out. Bailey must have thought it was bath time, as he tucked his tail and backtracked towards the road. I crimped the hose, stifling my giggles as the water leaked down my arm. And what the heck, I gulped down a few swallows before crimping it again, spitting rainbow mists into the hot sunny air. By the time I got it closed off, I was soaked clean through, not that I was complaining.

With the hose folded tight, I inched closer toward the window, jolting to a stop when Aunt Bethany whooped and howled, her laughter giving out to coughs at something on her stupid soap. She smacked her leg twice, talking to the TV like they were best friends. I closed my eyes, took a breath, and inched closer.

The hose was angry, hissing and leaking as I shifted my grip. A little closer, closer still, until I zeroed in on Aunt Bethany’s wide neck as my target. I bit my tongue to keep from laughing, brought my thumb to the end of the hose as I raised it to the screen.

Then I let her rip.  

It popped a few times before water blasted through the screen and into the house, plastering Aunt Bethany in the back of her head.

“You want me to use the hose?” I yelled, unable to contain myself from a good parting line. “Well here you go.”

Aunt Bethany shrieked. She dropped her phone onto the floor as I let her have it. For a few moments she didn’t move or budge from the couch except to yell at the wall. It took a full five or ten seconds of getting drenched before she had the wherewithal to rock herself off the couch and turn to face me, catching a country gallon of water with her neck and chest.

She waved her hands around her face. “You’re dead, you little demon!” she said, trying to shield herself from the dousing. I kept the hose aimed at her massive belly, when she moved in, up on her feet, her arms parted from her sides. I stepped back, still holding on to the hose as she wiped her face and spat. “I’m going to whup you until you can’t walk no more.”

I raised my aim and gave her once last soaking before she turned for the door. Then it was time to cut and run. I dropped the hose and raced out to the street, even as I knew it would take Aunt Bethany a good long time to reach the front yard.

The last thing I heard was the house quaking with thunderous steps. “Come on, Bailey,” I called out, although Bailey was well ahead of me, barking for me to get moving, more than ready to skedaddle.

Fast as I could, I bolted past Mr. Carter’s house, down the street and hit the path for the woods, my laughter like hiccups as I came upon the trail. I didn’t stop running until I was sliding down the sandy bank to the creek, where I fell to the sound, heaving and laughing and covered in sand.

Bailey plunged in the water, almost greenish in the deeper parts. He waded along and gulped down drinks of water I was fairly certain he’d heave back up once it settled. 

At some point the creek had flooded, rising up to the path. When it leveled out it left behind a pristine sandy beach with smooth rocks like seashells. It was just one of my secret places, where Bailey and I spent hours lying around and dreaming we were somewhere else. And right then, I sure wished I was in the truck with daddy. Still, I figured Aunt Bethany had only come as far as the side door before she got winded, so we were safe in the woods for the time being.

I was wet, barefoot, my damp clothes covered in sand and leaves, smiling as I thought back to Aunt Bethany and that hose water.

“Serves her right,” I said to Bailey, his collar jingling as he shook off the creek water even as he was still up to his haunches.

After a while my laughter faded. Nice as it was in the shade, my stomach was grumbling. And I’d blown any shot at dinner. I sat up, resting my elbows on my knees. Bailey ducked his nose into the creek and tossed some water around. Shoot, I’d really done it this time.

Two things crossed my mind. First, by then, Daddy had gotten a call from Aunt Bethany, that is if her phone wasn’t waterlogged. Second, I was sure to be grounded forever. Or worse, if Aunt Bethany got to me first.

I looked around. Guess, I could live in my fort, survive on wild raspberries and honeysuckle. That didn’t sound too bad.

Better than getting whipped until I couldn’t walk.