Jack tore a few blades of grass, thinking that between the deaths of his father and brother, and the fact that he was poor as dirt, he had plenty of sorrow from which to draw. “My dream is to write the next great American novel, likeThe Adventures of Huckleberry FinnorThe Grapes of Wrath.”
“So what is it about writing that interests you? The fame? The fortune? Both?”
“I’m not that interested in the fame, but the fortune sure would be nice. That way Mama could quit her job, and I could live right here on the hill, just like Clara. It’s all I’ve ever wanted—that, and to be able to fish anytime the mood strikes me. Probably sounds boring to you, but to me it’s heaven on earth.”
Ellie looked east toward the mountains. “Actually, that sounds rather peaceful,” she said, which caught Jack’s attention. “But won’t being a writer require you to go to college?”
“Not necessarily. William Faulkner didn’t go to college. Neither did Mark Twain. And look what they were able to accomplish.”
Ellie smiled amusedly. “I suppose you’re right. But what if writing doesn’t work out? What then? Would you ever consider something practical, like a doctor or lawyer?”
Jack frowned. “I don’t got the money to afford the schooling for something like that, and even if I did, I doubt I’m smart enough.”
“Don’t underestimate yourself. I think you’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for. Just because you’re not filthy rich and haven’t traveled the world doesn’t mean you’re not smart. Why, I know plenty of people where I’m from that have loads of money and have been all over the world, and they’re as dumb as a sack of potatoes.”
Jack chuckled. “So you really think I’m smart?”
“Yes, I do,” she said, looking earnest. “And never let anyone tell you otherwise, you hear?”
As night fell, they got up and eased toward the porch.
“Did I tell you Clara’s taking me to see the fireworks in Knoxville next week?”
“That sounds exciting.” He walked on a few steps. “I’ve never been to see fireworks.”
Ellie stopped and looked at him. “What? Well, that settles it. You’re coming with us.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“You wouldn’t be imposing,” she insisted. “And I’m sure Clara wouldn’t mind you tagging along. At least let me ask her. Please?” She looked up at him and poked out her lips.
“All right.” Jack found her irresistible. “If Clara says it’s okay, then count me in.”
Ellie gave him a peck on the cheek. “Then consider it a date.”
* * *
At supper, Jack hardly touched his food. He was too busy thinking about Ellie to concentrate on the meat loaf his mama had prepared.
“Is it not any count?”
Her words brought Jack out of his stupor. “Sorry, Mama. It’s delicious.”
“Somethin’ on your mind, JB?”
He nodded.
“Ellie?”
He nodded again.
“I figured.” Helen put down her fork and stared at him from across the table. “I remember what it was like when I first fell in love with your daddy. I don’t think I ate or slept for a week.”
“I just want to be with her all the time,” said Jack. “And when we’re apart, it’s like every bone in my body aches.” He stared at the floor, consumed by loneliness.
“I know the feeling. It’s like being caught in a tornado, isn’t it? One minute the world makes sense. The next you’re spinning on your head. But Jack,” she said, looking serious, “summer won’t last forever. Have you thought about what will happen when she leaves?”
Jack wanted to believe that spending one summer with Ellie was enough to form a bond unbreakable by time or distance, but he wasn’t naive enough to think that every guy with half a heartbeat wouldn’t be chasing after her when she returned to school. Sure, she could fight them off for a while, but eventually, one of them would catch her eye, a guy who was better-looking than him, with more money, more education, more… everything.
