Chapter 13
On the seventh day of August, I wake up before the rest. Soft pink light is streaming in the grimy windows.
I stare up at the water stains, the sad Santy Claus, the puppies floating dead.
But I do not let their old stories suck me in this morning, no siree.
It is View Day. And Ole Nutmeg has made her some plans.
Even the Big Phony has left me more or less alone.
Been too busy gearing up for her fancy charity award plate luncheon down in Jackson, our great capital.
I hope she comes in zero place. I hope she stands up on accident, thinking they called her name as winner, and has to say, Oh pardon me, and sit back down while everybody laughs.
I have seen it play in my head almost as many times as I played my mama showing up here.
And if I do get selected by a new family, she better watch out because I got me some Told You Sos and Thanks for Nothings lined up for her flat self. When I am done with those, I plan to flip her the middle finger and make my grand exit on out of here.
It is nice to dream.
I also prepared a statement that I practiced out loud in the office.
Of course Dorella had to be spying on me in the hall and near wet herself laughing.
I turned very red in the face, but then I laughed at myself too.
For a second we were both laughing, crazy ole Nutmeg at it again.
Then our laughing trailed off like a far-off traveling train.
Dorella stood there watching me in my blue egg by myself.
She opened her mouth like she was about to ask something soft, but nothing came out.
All this noise inside us and we can’t make a sound.
Miss Garnett walked up, so Dorella disappeared quick. And then it was her out in the hall watching me, until she moved on too. I am a regular damn spectacle now.
After that I rehearsed my speech silent to myself.
In a nutshell, it goes: Now I know I might not be much to look at, and I’m probably a little older than you were wanting, but let me tell you about the good bonus extras that come along with me (and here I will slice a rib roast for emphasis).
In addition to hard work, I can also do long division, carve a ham, read you the paper out loud, take insults without crying, and play “Oh Peter Go Ring Dem Bells” on a piano, should you have one of those in your home.
Then I will ease off the high-pressure sale and say, But please, take your time.
This is if anybody decent even comes my way.
If it is a awful one, we big girls got tricks up our sleeve to scare them off.
And they show up here, too, looking for field labor, a house slave.
You just throw a fit like a lunatic or wet your pants and they’ll usually move on.
Parents hate a pants wetter, that is a fact.
Soon as Miss Mildred unlocks the big girl door this morning, I scoot downstairs and fill buckets for the bathtub out on the back porch.
There is no point even fooling with a bath if you are third or fourth in line, it will be thick as a soup gravy.
Before the rest even come in, I got my hair combed, white Sunday dress on, sash in back tied in a bow.
And while I might be on the older side and my parts might be thin, I am bound to smell better than Dorella.
My tummy hurts from waiting for the afternoon to commence. I worry Miss Garnett might decide I cannot attend. And even if she does let me join, in the end she can still tell them what she thinks of me and change their minds.
Today, the Asskisser totes my lunch slop in instead of Miss Mildred. Entirely overdressed in a navy-blue getup with a red-and-white scarf tied around her goose neck. She is smiling big. Like somebody paid her to do it.
I hear we’re expecting more than usual at the View today, she says. Must be since Miss Garnett’s name’s been in all the papers for the charity award.
I don’t know why she is talking to me. If that Asskisser expects me to say I hope Miss Garnett wins the cash-money prize, she can stick that where the damn sun don’t shine.
Miss Birdie and me, we were talking and she suggested maybe I could try and help you get matched up with a nice set of adoptive parents today. Wouldn’t that be nice?
I nod but I watch her wary. The Asskisser is not even on the damn senior committee. If she tries to help, she could mess up my whole plan. Are you alright in here, Meg? she asks.
I am fine, I tell her. Just dreading my own future.
At quarter till, we all file into the toddler room.
It is hot and noisy with seventeen orphans and too many grown women ready to do their part!
Us nine big girls are lined up against the left wall, youngest to oldest, which puts me next to last with Dorella on the end.
Somebody will have to walk almost the entire line of us before they even get to me.
In the middle of the room on the rug, the six toddlers are fussing and getting their runny noses wiped.
Miss Fourth of July Frances is gripping Ella Jane like her last dollar.
Both babies are already asleep in ladies’ arms. Miss Garnett gives them laudanum so they don’t scream bloody murder.
When that second baby gets adopted, all these ladies will sulk.
Probably wonder is the library looking for volunteers.
Miss Garnett is standing at the door like she owns the place. A long drip of sweat runs down my back, making me squirm. I take a look around and survey my competition.
Now I know I got no chance against the toddlers or babies.
My stiffest competition in the big girl category will be ten-year-old Sue Anne with the pretty dark curls, who unfortunately is right before me, also Dorella and Ethel since they are strong for field work.
The two nine-year-olds I am bound to be nose to nose with since I am small, but that loose-eyed Fanny and Ginny with the nose-picking problem I think I got a leg up on.
And if they’re real nasty looking, I hear Dorella tell Fanny, who is new to the game, you ask do they mind if you’re half colored on your mama’s side.
I heard that, Dorella, the Fatass says. You big girls better not be planning on throwing any fits today.
Dorella says, Maybe we are and maybe we ain’t.
Well if you do, you’re getting a spanking, young lady. I bet Miss Pripp’s kids wish God had gave them a different mama. I would put money on that.
Alright, it’s time, Miss Garnett calls from the door. Girls, stand still and erect. The first ones are coming in now.
The first set of parents walk in. We all draw a breath. Lord, they look good.
Welcome to the Lafayette County Orphan Asylum.
May I see your papers? Miss Garnett asks.
They hand over a thing they filled out up front to prove they got a house and twenty-five dollars to their name.
I straighten up and smile. The mama is wearing a store-bought-looking dress in a nice pink color and a permanent wave in her hair and the man is wearing a proper-fitted suit, and on top of that they still look fairly young, least young enough to play a game or two in the yard.
The mama heads straight for a volunteer holding a baby. She grabs it up like gold. After hardly a minute they walk out to do paperwork with the inspector. I feel air seep out the big girls like a line of tires.
Miss Pripp is already talking to a second set in the doorway.
They are a lot older than the first, him in a dusty suit, her dress soft and brown.
But they look like they eat fine, and that is good enough for me.
The mama’s eyes start at the young end of the big girls, moving up.
But Miss Garnett gently turns her by the elbow to face the toddlers on the rug.
The mama bends over to look at Ella Jane. Why, aren’t you cute! Ella shrieks and clamps onto Miss Frances’s leg, making her wobble. After a second of this, I see Miss Garnett give Miss Frances the eyebrow for letting that toddler attach.
More mamas and daddies are walking in now, two, three more sets.
I watch Miss Garnett adjust elbows to where they are not looking right at us big girls.
When a wound-up toddler runs at one of the mamas, the mama smiles but shakes her head at Miss Garnett.
After a discussion I watch Miss Garnett lead her and her husband to the youngest in the big girl line.
I hear Miss Garnett use the word trainable.
They are looking back and forth between a seven- and a eight-year-old like they are on a shopping trip.
That is all right because still more folks have walked in.
The room is getting even hotter with so many mouths breathing in here at once.
I know Miss Garnett uses a smallish room so it looks like there are a lot to choose from.
A good selection is important when you are shopping for a person.
But I myself have never seen a crowd like this.
Some folks are even stuck waiting in the hall.
A few couples look to be making their way down the line, but it is hard to see with so many folks in here and hard to hear with Ella Jane screaming plus Miss Pripp yapping to where she might as well be selling a bottle of something out the trunk of her car.
Suddenly a lady’s hand squeezes my arm like to test am I fresh.
Then a fat man with a gold watch chain drooped from his chest pocket wedges in front of me.
When he runs a fat hand through my hair, I draw back but bite my lip so I will stand still and take it.
This is not the day to throw a epileptic fit.
Then I see another couple moving down the line.