Uncle John had built his house from a Sears Roebuck mail-order kit. Nobody had lived in it for a while, and it showed. The windows were grimy, the inside was dusty, and the whole place needed a good coat of paint.

“We have three weeks until Robin comes home,” Granny said, “and it’s canning time too. I’ll be busy with Miss Irene, putting up the beans and tomatoes. How would you and Ruby Lee like a little project?”

I always loved spending time with Ruby. “What kind of project?”

“Clean this place up,” Granny said, “and plant some flowers. Ruby sure has a way with gardening. Guess she inherited Miss Irene’s green thumb.”

I remembered my promise to be a perfect big sister. This was my first chance to prove it.

Granny took a closer look at the walls. “We’ll pick up some paint chips at the hardware store and let your mama choose the colors.”

At dawn, the smell of coffee mingled with sizzling country ham. I was still finishing breakfast when Ruby Lee knocked on the back door.

“Come on in,” Granny called. “Can I fix you a biscuit?”

“No, ma’am. I had breakfast at home.”

Granny wrapped up the leftover ham biscuits, and put them in a basket with slices of cake and a thermos of tea. “Thought you girls might enjoy having a picnic lunch,” she said.

Ruby followed me outside to load Grandpa’s truck. She raised her arm and pointed at the sky. “Look up yonder,” she said.

The sky was streaked with pink, like God had used my crayons to color it. Ruby and me had watched the sun rise lots of times together. Tobacco priming started early. “It sure is beautiful, Ruby Lee.” I placed a box of cleaning supplies into the truck and slid it toward the back.

Rowdy walked over and sniffed Ruby’s hand. He wagged his tail and panted with his tongue hanging out.

Ruby ruffled his fur. “This here dog is a good judge of character,” she said.

I giggled. “That’s because he goes to church.”

Rowdy jumped into the back of the truck and nestled beside the cleaning supplies. Ruby and I climbed into the cab with the picnic basket between us.

I shifted into drive and the old truck bumped along the worn path. “I’m glad for this job,” Ruby said. “Your granny’s paying me real good. I’m saving for back-to-school clothes.”

My hands tightened on the steering wheel. I didn’t want to think about changing schools. “I’ll be the new kid.”

“Ease up on that steering wheel,” Ruby said. “Looks like you’re trying to choke it.” Ruby stared out the window. “Don’t sweat school,” she said. “Instead of worrying about one skinny white girl, folks will be whispering about integration, about all us uppity colored children drinking from the same water fountain, eating in the same cafeteria, and using the same bathrooms.”

Instead of easing up on the steering wheel, I clenched my jaw too. I felt guilty that Ruby couldn’t swim in the town pool or have a hamburger at Bubba’s Grill. Sometimes grown-ups made stupid rules and were slow to change them, especially in Shady Creek. “Guess you’re right,” I said. “Going back to school will stink for both of us.”

“It won’t exactly stink for me,” Ruby said. “I’ll be going to a nicer school, one with real playground equipment.” She wrinkled her nose. “But it will be hard. It’s hard to go where you’re not wanted.”

When Ruby talked like that, I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to fix things, but didn’t know how.

I rolled the truck to a stop near the front porch. Ruby Lee climbed out and walked around the overgrown yard. “Somebody needs to mow the grass,” she said. “Ask your grandpa if he wants Uncle Clarence to do it.”

Ruby Lee unloaded the cleaning supplies while I unlocked the front door. “Come on and have a look,” I said.

Ruby walked through the entire house: kitchen, dining room, den, two bedrooms, and a bath.

“I know the stove and refrigerator are old, and the tile is cracked. It’s not nearly as nice as our house in town.”

Ruby shrugged. “I know lots of people that live in worse. It won’t seem so bad when it’s clean and painted.” She pulled a pencil and paper from her pocket. “I’m gonna make us a list,” she said. “This here is a big job.”

While Ruby took notes, I opened all the windows to air out the house. “Here’s the way I see it,” Ruby said. “I’ll start by scrubbing the bathroom. I can’t stand a filthy bathroom.”

I grabbed the mop handle and put a clean rag over the head. “I’ll wipe down the walls and trim,” I said. “Get rid of all the dust and cobwebs.”

“And when you finish with that, the floors need a good sweeping,” Ruby said.

I rolled my eyes behind her back. Sometimes Ruby thought she was the boss of me.

I spent the morning cleaning the walls and floors. The whole time, Ruby Lee sang in the bathroom.

My arms are tired, Lord

Gotta sweep the floors

Give me strength, Lord

To finish my chores.

I liked listening to Ruby. She had been named for a famous actress. Maybe that was why she loved to perform.

At lunchtime, we sank down on the front-porch steps with the picnic basket. I poured each of us a glass of sweet tea.

“Your granny sure knows how to make good iced tea,” Ruby said. “Tastes just like Ma Rene’s, full of sugar.”

I unwrapped ham biscuits, and we munched in silence for a while. “This place feels peaceful,” Ruby said. “The people that used to live here were happy folks. I can always tell that about a place.”

I knew what Ruby meant. This house was like opening a box of underwear on Christmas morning. It wasn’t a present I would have picked out, but I’d put it to good use anyway.

We finished up our biscuits, and then unwrapped slices of cake. “Prune cake,” I said. “It’s my favorite.”

Ruby Lee arched her eyebrows. “I don’t know about eating prunes,” she said.

“Prunes are moist and sweet. But if you’re too stubborn to try it, that’s more cake for me.”

Ruby sniffed and took a tiny taste. Then she took a bigger one. “I have seen the light,” she said. “Nothing wrong with prune cake.”

After lunch, Ruby and I started work in the kitchen. Ruby wiped out the cabinets while I scrubbed the oven.

Ruby started to sing.

Sorrow’s overwhelmin’ me

Hidden deep where no one sees

Sorrow’s overwhelmin’ me

Lord, show me how to set it free.

I knew Ruby was singing about her own parents, but the words seemed like they were written especially for me. I wondered how to set a sorrow free. It seemed like there should be a recipe for it.

“Why you doing battle with that oven?” Ruby asked. “Gonna wear yourself out.” She walked over and took the steel-wool pad from my hand. Ruby moved the pad in a firm, circular motion. “See? Like this. Girl, why you all teary eyed? What’s your problem?”

I shook my head.

“Robin is awake,” Ruby said. “Chattering like a chipmunk is what your granny said. So why you all knotted up?”

I shook my head again.

Ruby handed the steel-wool pad back to me. “Suit yourself, then.”

I went back to scrubbing, and Ruby measured for shelf paper.

“It was my fault,” I blurted out.

Ruby kept cutting the paper in a straight line. She didn’t even look up.

“I was supposed to be babysitting.” My hands started to tremble. “Only I-I was reading my library book.”

Ruby put down her scissors. She reached for me and then let her arms drop. When we were younger, we used to hug each other all the time, but not so much lately. All the talk about integration and the assassination of Martin Luther King had made us feel awkward about touching, like maybe we shouldn’t.

“What do your parents say about it?” Ruby asked.

“I haven’t told them. I haven’t told anybody, except for you.”

“Why not?”

I took a couple of deep breaths, in and out, in and out. “I’m afraid. Afraid they won’t love me anymore.”

Ruby snorted. “Sarah Beth Willis, that is crazy talk. Your parents love you the same way Ma Rene and Uncle Clarence love me. Forever.”

“Maybe, but I don’t want them to know. Promise you won’t tell.”

Ruby walked over to me and held out her finger for a pinkie swear. The way she used to do when we were little. “I promise,” she said.