Chapter 12 #2
Like usual, the inspector smelled like he had soaked his whole old self in a Lysol disinfectant.
Which I did not blame him, coming in here.
She took him to the office to show off all the work she had not lifted a finger to do.
She has some gall. I could see them in there, him complimenting our nice blue paint and looking impressed when she showed him the books she’d straightened out.
Well, sometimes a girl just has to roll her sleeves up, she said, and the pot of paste actually giggled at the man.
Ask me, she is too damn old for that business.
They chatted about how she has got nominated for some charity award and he hopes she will win.
It was in the big Jackson newspaper and everything.
While he told us to folla the finger (Fanny with the lazy eye got a F) and asked do any of us bleed (no), he told her how the state is organizing an important test for intelligence in schools.
Well, that caught my ear. I always love a test.
Problem is, schools just don’t have the money to implement the test or a place to move all the imbeciles. He snorted like this was a funny joke to him.
That’s exactly why we’ve started the work program, she said. To give them a place to go. But we could do more, Richard, if we just had the funds.
You’re lucky to get what little bit you’re getting, Garnett. These are hard times we’re in. And I thought, You don’t know the half of it, mister. We don’t even get paid to stick the vegetable in the can.
I heard the state’s so broke, they’re turning folks loose from the lunatic asylums, he said. Say they don’t have the funds to feed ’em.
He chuckled again, but Miss Garnett, she was not chuckling at all.
But they are a danger. To our communities, she said. Surely the colony over in Ellisville can find a way to look after them. It’s the only way to contain this terrible problem.
He shrugged, saying let’s hope so, and he’d see her at the View Day next week. He tipped his hat at her and left. The whole visit hardly took thirty minutes.
Oh but you could see something boiling in that woman’s mind.
A furious tea. And the next thing I knew, she marched in the office and nailed my damn window shut again while I sat there and watched.
And then she told me I would from now on be taking all my meals in the office.
That I was not even allowed to eat with the other girls anymore.
What does she think I am? A diseased person?
Not turned loose for meals or nothing? And now she is standing behind me, fooling with my hair, calling me names?
I get a throw-up feeling in my tummy, thinking about sitting alone in here for six whole months.
And I would be a little fool to think a girl my age can get adopted in a snap, like Birdie thinks I could do.
I heard those charity ladies say one time we are not even normal here, how it is peculiar that we do not even bleed and the ones who started before coming here stop.
Something froze us in time because we know nobody wants a big girl.
Well, I have had it and whip my hair from her bony fingers and tell her—
STOP IT.
She blinks at me, surprised. Sit down, young lady.
NO.
I know my life would be easier if I just sat there and took it. But here is what else I have come to know: If you give a girl a taste of fresh air and then take it away, she will grow fierce and wild to get that fresh air back again.
I move away from her until I am at the wall. I am big for my britches but I still have the sense to put distance between us. I don’t want you calling me that anymore or keeping me separate in this room! I say. I want to know why in the hell you hate me so much, lady.
Her lips open and make the sticky sound. The answer is on the tip of her tongue. I can almost see it in there and am apt to pry her mouth open and pull the answer out. I fathom a long black snake, my two hands gripping it, the snake squirming while I get the whole thing out.
Can she at least give me this littlest of courtesies? And tell me what in the hell this is about?
But she shakes her head and says, You. Ungrateful.
Little brat. After all I’ve done for you.
She reaches over and pushes the door shut that will not shut.
She gets it shut. She moves at me so close, the back of my head is touching the wall.
You should be thanking God you’re here and not where you came from.
Now you get down on your knees right now, young lady, and you thank him for that.
I would like to know: What is wrong with people? And what do you say back to those that can put a belt to you for asking or put you in a room alone until you are singing songs out of season? I will tell you what you say:
I would not pray that shit if you paid me, lady.
She slaps my face hard—oh! It burns—and I want to hit her back I am so furious—
You were not supposed to be born, Meg, you were a mistake. And now I am the one looking after you instead of that depraved mother of yours.
I don’t know what that damn word means, but I am spitting tacks.
Well, my mama was a lot smarter than you, lady, and she was prettier too and you got a flat bottom and a flat pasty face and I think you are just jealous because your baby died I think it wanted to die when it realized it was inside of you.
She stares at me up against the wall. Then she steps back and smiles, with actual teeth. I wonder how all this could make her so happy. Her hate is so hot my body burns.
Don’t forget, Meg, that smart, pretty mother of yours? She abandoned you. Two days before Christmas. She smiles again and it is even bigger this time. Your mother hated you so much, she left you to starve.
Sometimes I feel old. Old in my skin and my bones.
I remember when I turned nine at my mama’s house, I could still feel a little eight left in me.
But when I turned ten in this place, there was not any nine left to spare.
Now I am afraid I might already have used up the rest of my eleven and most my twelve too.
Here is what I have learned in life: You cannot count on people. Look away and poof, they are gone, even if they planned to cut that hair of yours. Or said you were sisters and they would write you a secret letter. Or wanted something better for you than factory work.
I eat my supper at the desk alone that night.
Miss Mildred brings it in. The sting of Miss Garnett’s hand is gone, but I still feel it burning my face.
I hear the other girls filing out the dining room and I jump up to join them, but Miss Mildred says I got to wait, palm up, to use the outhouse and pump when the rest are done.
What did I do so awful? I beg her. Please tell me right now! Her saggy self will not meet my eyes. I know she is scared of Miss Garnett, but am I a stranger to her? Doesn’t a criminal at least deserve to know the crime?
When it is finally my turn to go, I see Miss Mildred shake her head sorry at me. Least she knows a injustice when she sees one.
Up in the big girls’ room, the other girls all stare at me quiet. Not just Dorella, Lord, all eight of them and not just like I am crazy. They are starting to look at me scared.
Miss Mildred says it is prayer time, girls, so we kneel next to our beds.
Nightgowns tucked under our knees so the floor is not so hard.
It is never interesting what these girls pray for here, Bless my ten brothers and sisters or Bring me something such-and-so to eat or flat out Don’t let Nutmeg scream in her sleep amen.
Most nights I don’t even try to pray, I just pretend to.
When the day is over, I am usually not in the mood to discuss it.
But I decide to pray tonight. Not like Miss Garnett, all Dear Lord Jesus, thank you for thy whatever. I will keep my prayer short and simple. If I was Lord and had so many requests coming in at once, I personally would appreciate short and simple.
Dear God, I pray. This is Meg Lefleur speaking. And I need you to listen to me a minute.
I got one thing I need from you, God.
Please. Give me something better than six months alone in that room.
Just this one thing and that is all I ask.
This is Meg Lefleur speaking. Amen.
When I get in bed, I repeat my prayer a couple more times. I figure if it is already in the till, it can’t hurt to say it again. Plus Mama always said men are slow learners, so you got to repeat it until it sticks.
While the rest of them sleep, I lie awake and watch the spooky stains on the ceiling start to dance.
The December before last, Mama brought me to town to look at all the Christmas decorations.
A tall tree with real electric lights stood fancy in front of the courthouse.
Folks toted boxes and bags of presents and surprises.
A sign ran across the front of Neilson’s that said HAVE A VERY VERY MERRY!
Even though we couldn’t afford anything, we always went in for fun.
The minute we did, I spotted a pair of red mittens that looked too good to be true.
The tag read Baby Lamb’s Wool Price 50 cents.
I knew that was too much for my mama to spend, so I bit my lip to keep from asking.
Oh but I turned them over a lot of times, feeling their baby lamb softness.
All Mama had bought for me this trip was a couple hard candies.
She would not even let me drop a penny in the orphan box.
I liked the sound it made when I did, and I always wondered about these orphans.
What those children did so naughty for their mamas to give them up.
That was how I thought the orphan business worked when I was little.
But then Mama went and dropped a whole nickel in crazy Old Miss Rondo’s peach can. I pouted about that on the drive home.
The very next afternoon, Mama said she was going to town—
But we just went!