When it is morning I hear my daddy come in the house. He does not sneak. If he had a horse he would have ridden it right up the steps. He has forgotten last night and he is foolish enough to think we have too.
My mama has got her own self out of the bed. I must have slept hard not to hear her. All my clothes are on that I wore yesterday. It will save me some trouble this morning.
He’s got her in the kitchen by herself. I know he won’t hurt her with his hands. He might throw a cup or a fork at her but he won’t touch her to leave a mark.
I try not to leave her by herself with him. Not even when they are both asleep in the bed. My baby crib is still up in their bedroom so when I hear them at night I throw a fit and will not stop until I can sleep in the baby bed. He will think twice when I am around.
And I have to see now but the door is shut. There is something in the kitchen I need so I go in there to get it.
She is sitting at one end of the table and he is sitting at the other end going through her pocketbook. Some of her heart pills are on the table rolling around loose and the bottle is in her lap.
Give the bottle to me and let me put the pills back in it. They cost money, I say to her.
That’s all the pills she’s got left. She took almost the whole goddamn bottle, he looks at her and tells me.
Vomit them up, mama. I’ll stick my finger down your throat and you can vomit them up. She looks at me and I see she will not vomit. She will not move.
Well I’ll just go to the store and use the telephone.
But my daddy says he will kill me if I try to leave this house. All the time I knew he was evil and I did not have the proof.
He would kill me and my mama both with a knife. He looks at the two of us and rubs her pocketbook, patient, like he sits and waits for folks to die all the time. He wants me to put her back in the bed.
Hell, all she needs is some sleep, he says. Take her back there and see if she don’t sleep it off. And he gave me a guarantee the pills would not hurt her bad.
We will rest some more. The day is early and we need some more rest.
I always love to eat a good supper, brush my teeth and go to bed early. If I am not sleepy I can always find something to do.
Lately I lay up in the bed and read old books. I told the library teacher I wanted to read everything of some count so she made me a list. That was two years ago and I’m up to the Brontë sisters now. I do not read comic books or the newspaper. I find out what news I need off the television.
I can hardly tolerate the stories we read for school. Cindy or Lou with the dog or cat. Always setting out on some adventure. They might meet a bandit or they might hop a freight but the policeman or the engineer always brings them home and they are still good children.
I myself prefer the old stories. When I started my project I enjoyed the laughing Middle Ages lady that wore red boots. She was on a trip with a group of people swapping stories, carrying on, slapping each other on the back.
What I am reading now is a little fancy for me but it is on the list. Just men and women sneaking around in a big dark house with one all into the other’s business. The library teacher said the author and her sisters wrote books because in their day they could not go out and get jobs. I bet they were just well off and did not need to work.
I could lay here and read all night. I am not able to fall asleep without reading. You have that time when your brain has nothing constructive to do so it rambles. I fool my brain out of that by making it read until it shuts off. I just think it is best to do something right up until you fall asleep.
I always want to lay here. And she moves her arm up and I push my head down by her side. And I will crawl in and make room for myself. My heart can be the one that beats.
And hers has stopped.
Damn him to the bottom of hell damn him.
What to do now when the spinning starts people will come and they will want to know why and I cannot tell them why. They will not come yet no not for a while. I have her now while she sleeps but just is not breathing. I do not have to tell him so let him sit and wonder at the quiet in here. Why this house is so still and people all over everywhere are glad for the day.
Guilty and held down in his chair by God and fear of a sweet dead woman.
You can rest with me until somebody comes to get you. We will not say anything. We can rest.
I despise that dress and get your hands off me is what she needs to be told. But I push the bathroom door and leave my aunt on the other side and me to myself.
Is this my lipstick now? I do not think I should put a dab on to wear to the church. She would let me. But somebody would say something.
Put it back put it back just like it was. When I am old I can come back and wear it. When it is not for play. They didn’t need this to dress her up with? Somebody must have got her another stick. She left this one at home. To be sure they don’t paint everybody they do business with with the same stick.
I will just wash my mouth and sit on the toilet to look. I can see them all through the crack in the door. Everybody I have not seen since last Christmas sitting around patting their hands together.
My daddy is thinking about how good a tall glass of anything would be. Before they all got here he rounded up all his beer cans and pitched them under the back porch.
Somebody must have given him that suit. All he ever wears is gray work outfits. I want to sew a little patch over the pockets that says his name BILL. He could be like the Esso man. Can I help you, ma’am? Check your tires? Change your oil? Throw a knife at you?
All he has done since Sunday morning is open the door for folks and shake his head yes or no. His brother Rudolph put him in the car and took him to town to pick out the coffin. I know when he got there my mama’s sisters chased him off. They are the ones with the taste.
He sits there with both feet on the floor and his eyes are red but not from crying. When somebody goes by and leans forward to his ear he touches them on the shoulder. Still king. Now quiet.
She finally shut him up.