September Jones Pt.3

September Jones

I like our town. I was born here and so was my Mama. Her Mama and Daddy lived here for a long time, till I was four years old, but then my Papaw Jones died and my Mamaw Jones decided to move to Florida with her cousin. I remember the day she left. It was raining and Mama and me were waiting on the bus with her. I was watching the rain drip-drop off the umbrella we were under. I was wearing a red rain coat.

Mama was sniffing and wiping her eyes while Mamaw held her tight with one arm while squeezing my shoulder with her other hand. I wasn't crying.

Before she got on the bus, she knelt down while Mama held the umbrella over her. She said some stuff to me, but the bus and the rain made it hard to hear her. All I remember are her last words, "Bye Viola." The she hugged me and stood up and hugged Mama and got on the bus. Mama and me waved as the bus drove off, just like in the movies. I was never real close to my Mamaw Jones 'cause she never once called me September. Just Viola.

The raindrops sounded loud on my red raincoat.



I'm watching the rain running down my bedroom window right now while I'm waitin' on Mama to set out my birthday cake. Today is my twelfth birthday, and it's always been a birthday rule to not see my cake before it's completely ready. My favorite cake is strawberry and Mama always makes it from scratch. She makes the cream cheese icing too, and she decorates it real pretty.She says store boughten cakes don't have love baked in 'em. I can definitely taste lots of love in Mama's strawberry birthday cakes. .
.

Rosie's coming over with her Mama and so is Aunt Millie. I invited Miss Ariana too, but she said that she since she didn't go to Sidney Wilson's or Eddie Fowler's or Emma Stinson's birthday parties she shouldn't come to mine so there are no hurt feelings. I guess I understand but I'm still disappointed. Miss Ariana would make a pretty decoration at my party. I told her so, and she laughed--it sounded like music--and told me I'm very creative with words and I would make a good writer.

This morning I got mail addressed to me. It was a birthday card with a rainbow and hearts on the front. It was from Miss Ariana. I brought it in and put it on my desk. I've tried writing her name just like she wrote it on the card, but I can't seem to get the letters as round and pretty as she did. I guess she's had lots of practice, it being her name since birth.

I feel like I've waited for hours. I hear people talking, so the guests must be getting here. I hear Rosie's voice. I smell the strawberry cake and it's making my mouth water. The rain's coming down so hard now, but I don't care 'cause it's my birthday and Mama's calling my name.