Chapter 33 #2
Tom reaches to take Lucille’s hand. She sees it coming, though, and moves hers down to her lap instead.
On the drive home, I fall asleep in the car before the big house is even out of sight. Tom carries me up to bed and squeezes my toe and says he will see me in the morning.
It has got to where most mornings when Willy May comes in, she likes to announce what the cousins got planned for the day.
They having a tea party at Miz Rowena’s, or They going to the lake, don’t you wanna go?
I get the feeling it is Mrs. Heidelberg telling her to say it to try and lure me out the house.
Every time I ask Lucille, here comes The Book of NO.
I am still full from that steak dinner last night when Willy May comes in the kitchen the next morning. I wait to hear the cousins’ big plans but she says, Miz Isabelle wanna see you at the big house, Meg. Go get you some stockings and shoes on.
Are the cousins playing over there? I ask. It sounds like a order, so maybe Tom and Lucille will have to say it’s all right.
No, baby, this ain’t playtime, Willy May says. Put you a proper petticoat on too.
What is it she wants me for then?
Willy May smooths my hair down in a way that makes me very wary. I let Mr. Tom know where you gone to when he come out his office.
Lucille is still asleep, but when I am dressed, I go to Tom’s office. Before I can knock, though, Willy May steers me to the front door. Go on, baby. Oney out there waiting on you.
What is it, Willy May? Is it something bad?
She gives me a hug and says, Go on now. It’s the first time she has hugged me and the first real one I have gotten here. I don’t like this one bit.
Today, Mr. Oney has drove the old green truck and he gets out and opens the door for me.
On the ride over, the gasoline smell makes me feel sick, while the word R-E-T-U-R-N flashes in my head like a lit-up sign.
When we get close to the house, I see there are four or five black cars sitting out front.
They ALL look like Miss Garnett’s to me, every damn one of them.
After we stop, Maggie, the colored woman from supper, helps me out the truck and holds my hand tight, walking me into the house like she knows I might make a run for it.
In the big empty hall I hear voices at the other end—children’s voices!
But instead Maggie walks me toward the wide curving staircase.
Can I go see the cousins? I ask, pulling on her hand.
No, baby. Miz Isabelle waiting on you upstairs.
When we get to the top of the stairs, we walk down a narrower hall.
It has a pink carpet and tall scary mirrors on the walls.
My mind is moving faster than my feet are.
What if one of those voices down there is Miss Garnett’s, what if she brought the Heidelbergs some other, better orphans to choose from?
Surely not dirty Dorella but a cuter, younger one like they wanted.
Well that witch will have to put the muscle on me to get me to leave this place!
I sure wish I’d thought to use the pot before coming here.
Maggie walks me into a room on the right. It is small compared to the rest and a peach color with a desk and some chairs. She shuts the door behind me—Lord, keep that thing open. It smells like a sick chest salve in here. And there Mrs. Heidelberg is, waiting by a set of chairs under the window.
She is in a dark blue dress with a shiny black belt that cuts her all wrong in her middle.
Come here, Meg, she says. I move slow. She motions me to sit across from her without so much as a head pat, never mind two.
We both sit in the ugly peach chairs. Her face is dry and white against the bell of black hair.
Large white pearls tug down her earlobes.
I can feel all the skin on my body burning, even the soles of my feet.
If she tries to return me, I will run like the dickens, these old people cannot catch me.
I will run until I see the train tracks and live on can goods with the hobos—
Meg, she says and sets her gaze on me. You lied to me about where you came from. She says it just like I damn knew she would. Lying is not acceptable in this family. Do you understand that?
Yes, ma’am. It only comes out a whisper but at least it comes out.
Please, Mrs. Heidelberg, don’t return me.
I can already feel the tears coming, expecting Miss Garnett to walk in here.
She sticks me in a room by myself. My hands are shaking and my teeth are chattering.
Nobody ever talks to me. I get so scared.
She leans up and lays her hand on mine. It feels so nice, I don’t want her to move her hand.
I am so sorry that happened to you, Meg.
And I wish it hadn’t. All my tears start to fall then.
I am crying so hard the room is blurry. She hands me a handkerchief like she knew ahead of time I would need it.
It makes me cry harder that she thought of that.
Coming here must’ve felt like we saved your life.
I look at her, wondering how did she know that? Please, Mrs. Heidelberg, it would make Tom so sad if you sent me back to that place.
I got to use any card I got right now, but it is still the truth. We both got to take very deep breaths at that.
Yes, it would. Tom’s always been prone to sadness, even as a boy. He carries a weight with him that no one can see.
I nod and tell her, I have seen the sad part in Tom’s eyes.
She gives me a good long look and her lip trembles in a smile, but she swallows it back.
Last night, I realized how happy you’ve made my son. You’ve reminded Tom of how fortunate he is and helped get him back on track. To remember the importance of family and hard work and integrity. And for that, I want to thank you, Meg.
You’re welcome. I look down at my feet not touching the floor. Hers barely do either. I don’t want to start crying again.
Now I know you were just doing as you were told, Meg, and I don’t blame you for that. But if you want to stay here as a Heidelberg, you and I will have to come to an understanding.
I nod to her. I do want to stay here, yes I do.
She thinks it over a second, looking at the window. You’re an intelligent girl, Meg. You remind me of myself when I was young. And I couldn’t ask most girls your age to do what I’m about to ask you to do.
My legs start to wag, waiting for what she will ask. To be her house servant for life or to work in their sugarcane fields or to murder Lucille. I could probably do it. If she gave me some directions, I could probably do it.
Tom has a terrible problem with liquor, Meg.
Lucille got him hooked on it in New York, and I thought I’d ended it when I got them out of that godforsaken city.
I see her gritting her teeth just thinking of Lucille.
And I know she’s the one behind these lies so she could keep the money I gave her to adopt a baby.
Frankly, I don’t know why Tom ever took up with a woman like her.
She is a bad influence and a drunk, and taking liquor is a sin, Meg.
It rots a personality and I saw what it did to my own father when I was your age.
I learned from that. I learned that some it turns lazy, some it turns crude, some it turns sad, like Tom, but every one of them it turns STUPID.
Do you understand what I am saying to you, Meg?
I do not. Yes ma’am, I do.
Now I’m asking you to make yourself useful in this family. Can you do that for me, Meg?
I nod.
I want you to tell me the truth: Is anybody drinking liquor in that house?
She watches me close. It is the one damn question I cannot answer with truth. If I told on Lucille, she would return me so fast my eyelids would flap from the speed of the car flying.
I don’t move a muscle when I say, No ma’am. There is no drinking liquor going on.
If either one of them gets to drinking, will you come and tell me?
Yes ma’am. I will come and tell you.
She cups me under the chin. My bottom lip starts to wobble.
Her rings are cool against my hot, swolled-up face.
Her dark eyes are crinkly but they are strong and draw you in like she is counting on you, oh you are the only person in the world she can count on now.
She stands up and nods like she is satisfied by what she sees.
I want this to stay between us, alright? If Tom or Lucille asks why I called you over, tell them you came to get fitted for school dresses. Now, you go on down to the parlor with the others before the seamstress goes home.
Yes ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.
I’ll come by the house soon and check on things, she says. Don’t let me down, Meg.