Ruby's legs felt like jelly under her. They wobbled, and she sat down hard, her back against the bridge railing. Melba stood there, a puzzled look on her face, as if trying to make up her mind, then she sat down next to Ruby. She was wearing a long brown wig, an enormous black hat, and purple gloves. When she sat down, her sundress covered her legs, knees to ankles. Her toes peeked out from under it, from where they were nestled in delicate white sandals. Ruby raised a dusty big toe and tried to think about what to do next. Get up? Run away? Spit on Melba? Nothing seemed quite right. Her hands shook in her lap. She opened them wide and clutched her kneecaps. The lake made a lapping sound below them, where the water met the shore.
Melba broke the silence. "I wanted to talk to you..." She smoothed her dress down her legs to her ankles.
Ruby's head throbbed. She squeezed her knees with her hands.
Melba sucked in a breath. "I know you threw away my note. I want—"
"Stop, Melba. Just stop." Ruby scooted away from Melba. "I don't care what you want."
"I want to apologize." Melba's voice had a hollow sound to it.
"You can't. I won't let you." Now Ruby stood and faced Melba. "I don't want to hear it. You killed my chicks."
Melba's face was hidden under the brim of her hat as Ruby stood over her. Her gloved hands were folded quietly in her lap, and she gave a little shudder. Ruby felt a stab of triumph, and it carried her along on a wave of anger. "I don't care what you have to say, you can't bring them back. I don't care what you say from now on about anything! My grandpa would have come home last summer, no matter what. He always came home. Say whatever you want! Tell everybody! I'm not afraid of you anymore."
Ruby's face flushed and her throat was on fire. She leaned toward Melba, so angry she was shaking. With her fìnger she jabbed Melba hard on the shoulder. "It's your turn, Melba Jane. I'm going to tell everybody in this town just what a rotten person you are, just how mean you are, how hateful. How you wanted me to believe it was my fault that my grandpa died, that your daddy died, that the whole accident happened! Maybe I'll just come to the operetta after all and tell everybody tonight! I could tell the whole town while you were standing right there on the stage with me!"
Ruby's throat had closed up, and she had to squeeze the last few words out. She stopped and took a deep breath and swallowed. "Then I'm going to tell them how my chicks died. And I'm going to make sure they know that it was all your fault. You killed them, Melba Jane. And I will never forget it."
For a moment neither girl moved and there was no sound, just the echo of Ruby's words hanging in the air above them. Then the summer noises returned, and Ruby stood up straight to collect herself. She felt light-headed. Melba kept her head down, her face still hidden by the brim of her hat.
Then she spoke. "Yes, I did." Her voice trembled. "I did. Mama says..." She didn't finish the sentence. She ¡reached into her dress pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, then removed her gloves, pulling slowly on each fìnger. Ruby watched her.
"You know what I wonder about?" Melba asked. Ruby's stomach did a flutter as she saw that Melba had calluses on her palms. "I wonder if my daddy was scared that night." Melba clutched her gloves. "I wonder if he was awake. And if he was, did he think about me? I wonder about that."
Ruby wouldn't hear this, wouldn't think about this. "Go away, Melba Jane!"
Now Melba had the handkerchief in her hand, dabbing at the sweat collecting on her forehead and around her ears, dripping from the wig. Then she stood, tucked her handkerchief into her dress pocket, and walked to the opposite side of the bridge. An old pickup truck clattered over it, slowed, but did not stop. Melba stared at the lake where the sun sparkled low and golden on the water. "I miss my daddy."
A numbness spread through Ruby. She stood as still as she could, willing Melba Jane to go away.
And she did. Melba's sandals tapped across the bridge as she walked toward the schoolhouse.