Miss Leefolt follow me in there, eyeball a bucket a Crisco, put it down. Baby Girl hold her arms out for her mama to pick her up, but Miss Leefolt open a cabinet, act like she dont see. Then she slam it close, open another one. Finally she just stand there. Im down on my hands and knees. Pretty soon my heads so far in that oven I look like Im trying to gas myself.
You and Miss Skeeter looked like you were talking awful serious about something.
No maam, she just asking do I want some old clothes, I say and it sound like Im down in a well-hole. Grease already working itself up my arms. Smell like a underarm in here. Dont take no time fore sweats running down my nose and ever time I scratch at it, I get a plug a crud on my face. Got to be the worst place in the world, inside a oven. You in here, you either cleaning or you getting cooked. Tonight I just know Im on have that dream Im stuck inside and the gas gets turned on. But I keep my head in that awful place cause Id rather be anywhere sides answering Miss Leefolts questions about what Miss Skeeter was trying to say to me. Asking do I want to change things.
After while, Miss Leefolt huff and go out to the carport. I figure she looking at where she gone build me my new colored bathroom.
Chapter 2
Youd never know it living here, but Jackson, Mississippi, be filled with two hundred thousand peoples. I see them numbers in the paper and I got to wonder, where do them peoples live? Underground? Cause I know just about ever-body on my side a the bridge and plenty a white families too, and that sure dont add up to be no two hundred thousand.
Six days a week, I take the bus across the Woodrow Wilson Bridge to where Miss Leefolt and all her white friends live, in a neighborhood call Belhaven. Right next to Belhaven be the downtown and the state capital. Capitol building is real big, pretty on the outside but I never been in it. I wonder what they pay to clean that place.
Down the road from Belhaven is white Woodland Hills, then Sherwood Forest, which is miles a big live oaks with the moss hanging down. Nobody living in it yet, but its there for when the white folks is ready to move somewhere else new. Then its the country, out where Miss Skeeter live on the Long-leaf cotton plantation. She dont know it, but I picked cotton out there in 1931, during the Depression[10], when we didnt have nothing to eat but state cheese.
So Jacksons just one white neighborhood after the next and more springing up down the road. But the colored part a town, we one big anthill, surrounded by state land that aint for sale. As our numbers get bigger, we cant spread out. Our part a town just gets thicker.
I get on the number six bus that afternoon, which goes from Belhaven to Farish Street. The bus today is nothing but maids heading home in our white uniforms. We all chatting and smiling at each other like we own it not cause we mind if theys white people on here, we sit anywhere we want to now thanks to Miss Parks[11] just cause its a friendly feeling.
I spot Minny in the back center seat. Minny short and big, got shiny black curls. She setting with her legs splayed, her thick arms crossed. She seventeen years younger than I am. Minny could probably lift this bus up over her head if she wanted to. Old lady like mes lucky to have her as a friend.
I take the seat in front a her, turn around and listen. Everbody like to listen to Minny.
so I said, Miss Walters, the world dont want a see your naked white behind any more than they want a see my black one. Now, get in this house and put your underpants and some clothes on.
On the front porch? Naked? Kiki Brown ask.
Her behind hanging to her knees.
The bus is laughing and chuckling and shaking they heads.
Law, that woman crazy, Kiki say. I dont know how you always seem to get the crazy ones, Minny.
Oh, like your Miss Patterson aint? Minny say to Kiki. Shoot, she call the roll a the crazy lady club. The whole bus be laughing now cause Minny dont like nobody talking bad about her white lady except herself. Thats her job and she own the rights.
The bus cross the bridge and make the first stop in the colored neighborhood. A dozen or so maids get off. I go set in the open seat next to Minny. She smile, bump me hello with her elbow. Then she relax back in her seat cause she dont have to put on no show for me.
How you doing? You have to iron pleats this morning?
I laugh, nod my head. Took me a hour and a half.
What you feed Miss Walters at bridge club today? I worked all morning making that fool a caramel cake and then she wouldnt eat a crumb.
That makes me remember what Miss Hilly say at the table today. Any other white lady and no one would care, but wed all want a know if Miss Hilly after us. I just dont know how to put it.
I look out the window at the colored hospital go by, the fruit stand. I think I heard Miss Hilly say something about that, bout her mama getting skinny. I say this careful as I can. Say maybe she getting malnutritious.
Minny look at me. She did, did she? Just the name make her eyes narrow. What else Miss Hilly say?
I better just go on and say it. I think she got her eye on you, Minny. Just be extra careful around her.
Miss Hilly ought to be extra careful around me. What she say, I cant cook? She say that old bag a bones aint eating cause I cant feed her? Minny stand up, throw her purse up on her arm.
Im sorry, Minny, I only told you so you stay out a her
She ever say that to me, she gone get a piece a Minny for lunch. She huff down the steps.
I watch her through the window, stomping off toward her house. Miss Hilly aint somebody to mess with[12]. Law, maybe I should a just kept it to myself.
A couple mornings later, I get off the bus, walk the block to Miss Leefolts house. Parked in front is a old lumber truck. Theys two colored mens inside, one drinking a cup a coffee, the other asleep setting straight up. I go on past, into the kitchen.
Mister Raleigh Leefolt still at home this morning, which is rare. Whenever he here, he look like he just counting the minutes till he get to go back to his accounting job. Even on Saturday. But today he carrying on bout something.
This is my damn house and I pay for what goddamn goes in it! Mister Leefolt yell.
Miss Leefolt trying to keep up behind him with that smile that mean she aint happy. I hide out in the washroom. Its been two days since the bathroom talk come up and I was hoping it was over. Mister Leefolt opens the back door to look at the truck setting there, slam it back close again.
I put up with the new clothes, all the damn trips to New Orleans with your sorority sisters, but this takes the goddamn cake.
But itll increase the value of the house. Hilly said so! Im still in the washroom, but I can almost hear Miss Leefolt trying to keep that smile on her face.
We cant afford it! And we do not take orders from the Holbrooks!
Everthing get real quiet for a minute. Then I hear the pap-pap a little feetum pajamas.
Da-dee?
I come out the washroom and into the kitchen then cause Mae Mobleys my business.
Mister Leefolt already kneeling down to her. Hes wearing a smile look like its made out a rubber. Guess what, honey?
She smile back. She waiting for a good surprise.
Youre not going to college so your mamas friends dont have to use the same bathroom as the maid.
He stomp off and slam the door so hard it make Baby Girl blink.
Miss Leefolt look down at her, start shaking her finger. Mae Mobley, you know youre not supposed to climb up out of your crib!
Baby Girl, she looking at the door her daddy slammed, she looking at her mama frowning down at her. My baby, she swallowing it back, like she trying real hard not to cry.
I rush past Miss Leefolt, pick Baby Girl up. I whisper, Lets go on in the living room and play with the talking toy. What that donkey say?
She keeps getting up. I put her back in bed three times this morning.
Cause somebody needs changing[13]. Whooooweeee.
Miss Leefolt tisk, say, Well I didnt realize but she already staring out the window at the lumber truck.
I go on to the back, so mad Im stomping. Baby Girl been in that bed since eight oclock last night, a course she need changing! Miss Leefolt try to sit in twelve hours worth a bathroom mess without getting up!
I lay Baby Girl on the changing table, try to keep my mad inside. Baby Girl stare up at me while I take off her diaper. Then she reach out her little hand. She touch my mouth real soft.
Mae Mo been bad, she say.
No, baby, you aint been bad, I say, smoothing her hair back. You been good. Real good.
I live on Gessum Avenue, where I been renting since 1942. You could say Gessum got a lot a personality. The houses all be small, but every front yards different some scrubby and grassless like a baldheaded old man. Others got azalea bushes and roses and thick green grass. My yard, I reckon it be somewhere in between.
I got a few red camellia bushes out front a the house. My grass be kind a spotty and I still got a big yellow mark where Treelores pickup sat for three months after the accident. I aint got no trees. But the backyard, now it looks like the Garden of Eden. Thats where my next-door neighbor, Ida Peek, got her vegetable patch.
Ida aint got no backyard to speak of what with all her husbands junk car engines and old refrigerators and tires. Stuff he say he gone fix but never do. So I tell Ida she come plant on my side. That way I dont have no mowing to tend to and she let me pick whatever I need, save me two or three dollars ever week. She put up what we dont eat, give me jars for the winter season. Good turnip greens, eggplant, okra by the bushel, all kind a gourds. I dont know how she keep them bugs out a her tomatoes, but she do. And they good.
That evening, its raining hard outside. I pull out a jar a Ida Peeks cabbage and tomato, eat my last slice a leftover cornbread. Then I set down to look over my finances cause two things done happen: the bus gone up to fifteen cents a ride and my rent gone up to twenty-nine dollars a month. I work for Miss Leefolt eight to four, six days a week except Saturdays. I get paid forty-three dollars ever Friday, which come to $172 a month. That means after I pay the light bill, the water bill, the gas bill, and the telephone bill, I got thirteen dollars and fifty cents a week left for my groceries, my clothes, getting my hair done, and tithing to the church. Not to mention the cost to mail these bills done gone up to a nickel. And my work shoes is so thin, they look like they starving to death. New pair cost seven dollars though, which means Im on be eating cabbage and tomato till I turn into Brer Rabbit[14]. Thank the Lord for Ida Peek, else I be eating nothing.