icon caret-left icon caret-right instagram pinterest linkedin facebook twitter goodreads question-circle facebook circle twitter circle linkedin circle instagram circle goodreads circle pinterest circle

Dead Eyes In Late Summer


For a long time, since they came back from France, and since
Garnett left in a red-hot huff, Adelyn had felt dead inside.
Her heart worked still, but the heart that cared lay withered.
Her soul wandered between here and somewhere else as she
walked the rough terrain where the unpaved roads cut into
deep ruts, and she got her new shoes all dusty. Adelyn
passed over onto the greenest grass anyone will ever find
outside Savannah. Under the shade of old oaks hung with
moss, the dew maintained a sweet wetness that bathed her
shoes until they were rid of the dust of Georgia clay.
She thought of her husband, saying aloud, “Garnett’s
away; he’s cut himself out of my life.” Propelled to keep on
moving, she realized how disheveled she would look to her
mother as she climbed one hill after another with no thought
to the dirt and mud under her feet. Mama would have a fit,
telling her, yelling at her, like she always did.

Missus Jackson grabbed Adelyn long enough to dab the
remaining dew off her shoes with a long handkerchief before
Adelyn’s wandering began again. June 1931, and everything
slowed as the hot, humid air took hold and wouldn’t let go
again till late fall. All the while, Adelyn stood like a store
mannequin, wooden and listless, while her mother fussed
about her hair. She could almost cry. At times, her spirit
sought out hope, and so, on a Sunday, Adelyn floated into
church. The priest laid the thin wafer, Body and Blood, on
her tongue. She didn’t feel it.

Her walking, roaming, riding, and driving took her past
the neighbors, with them all lingering on their wide
verandas, drinks in hand.

Throughout that summer day on the hammock with
Innis, Adelyn took to riding Ramses, him loving the hot days
as they galloped and then rested near the creek. With Garnett
gone up north, and out west, and anywhere but home, she
ran away from his absence on Ramses’s back. “Will he
finally miss me and come home?”

“Good as dead,” she said of her absent husband to
Mama at the noonday dinner, after the disturbing visit from
Innis. She pictured Garnett with that loose-hipped walk of
his, more suited to home than a city. “Always meeting
people in harsh places full of pushing crowds and loudtalking men.”
Mama pushed at her hand as it rested on the tablecloth.
“You hush with all that nonsense.” Her mother did not want
to think anything bad between Garnett and her daughter, for
the sake of their children, for the sake of the inheritance that
would be Garnett’s, the children’s, and yes, Adelyn’s. Her
mother would wait, the southern country way. “It’ll sort
itself out.” She said this in a nervous whisper.

They all sat at the table for the midday meal, her mother
and father, Aunt Grace, Mama’s sister, and Uncle Tyree, her
husband. And Adelyn’s two sons, who looked up from
picking at their food, and smiled across the table at their
pretty young mother.

Her thoughts flew back as quickly to Innis, how tall and
beautiful he looked for that brief moment in the hammock.
She blushed remembering his hands on her. And Garnett, his
brother and her husband? Garnett had turned out to be wild.
Adelyn’s eyes swept the large dining room, her gaze resting
on his photo on the mantle over the unlit fireplace. Adelyn
could see it clearly, as though she held it in her hand. For a
moment, she sensed Garnett’s spirit sitting next to her, his
eyes that curious amber green, and his hair dusty colored,
with highlights of red throughout. She looked around, to see
everything in the room near and farther away, clear and
sharp. Her eyesight keener now, realizing it sharpened after
she woke from the nap and the dream of Innis. Did I dream
of him after all—one moment yes, the other no.

The photo held Innis’s image, in the background, as
dark as Garnett was fair. Her boys had a touch of red in their
hair, too.

Watching her boys now, she grew sad for neglecting
them. Her mother read her thoughts. “All that walking and
climbing. Pay some mind to those little ones.” She said this
while pouring more lemonade for Tyler, the youngest boy.
Adelyn defended them running wild all that summer,
careless and scraggly, no shoes on them most of the time.

“Maybe it didn’t hurt them to be so wild, Mama, like their

Her oldest boy, Trey, asked her, “Mama, when’s Daddy
coming home?”

“Friday, Sugar. He’ll be here Friday afternoon.” Yes,
her deadened soul had most to do with Garnett’s ways. As it
did to the loss of Innis.

Mama stirred her coffee with a little demitasse spoon
and complained mostly to herself and a little to her daughter,
“You still set on driving down to the train station for Garnett

Adelyn looked up to see the boys sliding off their
chairs, ready to escape, “Trey, Tyler. Come on back. You
can cool down some in a bath before you run out in that hot
weather.” She turned back to her mother. “You know I plan
to drive down to Savannah.” Will he want to see me? The
family continued with their chicken dinner while Adelyn fell
back into her thoughts of Innis, contemplating what would
have happened if she had married him, had he lived. But is
he dead? She felt strongly that he occupied an in-betweenplace,

remembering the hammock and his hands on her body,

forcing her to come alive.