For Pete’s Sake

“I know his name. The point I’m trying to make—Martha, help me out here.”
“You’re doing just fine, dear.” Exasperated, Martha forced a smile.
“Then I’ll just come right out and say it. It has to stop, and I mean now.”
“Exactly what has to stop, dad?” Christie was determined not to let him see what she was feeling.
“You hanging around with the town idiot, that’s what. There, I’ve said it.”
Christie turned to her mother for some kind of support. “Mom?”
Hesitantly, her mother nodded. “I agree with you father, honey.”
“Everybody’s talking about you two. I heard Joel Hagerty making nasty jokes down at the gas station yesterday. He and his buddies were laughing about you two.”
“I hope you told them off.”
“That’s not the point. This is about you and that boy.”
“Peter Reynolds. His name is Peter Reynolds,” she corrected him and added, her words a little harsher than she had intended, “Joel Hagerty’s nothing but a no-account bootlegger. And his boys aren’t any better.”
“Christie!” Joshua snapped. “You don’t say things like that about people, not in this house.”
Christie pushed the chair back and stood up so suddenly that the table shook and Joshua’s coffee sloshed out of his cup.
“Why not? It’s the truth, and everyone knows it. You’ve always told me to tell the truth. Besides, it’s not as bad as calling Peter an idiot. You don’t even know him.”
“Other people are starting to talk too.” Martha came over and faced her daughter. “You must understand, dear. Velma Motes told me she saw you two down at the creek. You were lying on a blanket together.”
“This is stupid. We weren’t doing anything wrong. If you must know, I’m teaching Peter to read and write. That’s all.”
She took a breath when her dad humphed and looked away.
Tears started to flood her eyes. “You don’t believe me, do you? Well. it’s the truth. Go ask Mr. Greeley. He’ll tell you.”
“That’s not my point, Christie. I’m told that boy has a few marbles missing.”
“How can you say that? You don’t know anything about him.”
“I know what I hear. You won’t see him again and that’s final. The subject is closed.”
“Mom?” She looked at her mother for support. “He’s not an idiot. He’s intelligent, and he’s learning faster than I can teach him. It’s like his head was empty and he’s trying to fill it up as fast as he can.”
“Enough.” Joshua said firmly. “The subject is closed. Now, sit down and eat your breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry. Besides, I’m late for school.” She angrily gathered her books off the kitchen counter and stormed through the back door letting it slam shut behind her. The tears stung her eyes, her face flushed.
How can they say those things? They don’t even know Peter.
She got into her car and started the engine. “We’ll show them. We’ll show them all.”
She put the car in gear and started down the long gravel road to the county highway.
“He’s smart and wonderful . . . and I love him.”