He told me to stay where I was and went and got me a apple from the car.
I had not ever ate a apple so good. I asked, What other food you got in there, mister?
He was walking all around the house, looking at the half-burned chair and all inside the
kitchen cabinets. I worried maybe this was about money. I told him, Just run me to the store and
I will pay you back. Soon as a thing comes in, I will pay you right back.
He shook his head and said, I need to get you somewhere better, darlin’.
But what if she comes back? I pointed to the writing on the wall because I was very
confused.
I would’ve come sooner if I’d known, if your mama had gotten in touch sooner—
Well I threw a flying fit then. Where is she and When is she coming home and Where is
she gone to and What do you know—
He shook his head. Darlin’, I need to get you somewhere safe, and you need something to
eat.
Lord, I just wanted food, so I said, Alright. And then you bring me right on back? You
take me to the store and then you will bring me right on back?
Because it said on the wall I WILL BE RIGHT BACK and you see, I was very confused.
He nodded and he was not scratching his nose or anything. He put me on the seat of his
car next to him, and I asked him more questions about my mama, but he just shook his head. I
was so tired, I could not stay awake. When I woke up, the car was in front of a blue house with a
sign out front that said THE LAFAYETTE COUNTY ORPHAN ASYLUM FOR GIRLS.
Chapter 13
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On the seventh day of August, I wake up before the rest. Soft pink light is streaming in the grimy
windows. I stare up at the water stains, the sad Santy Claus, the puppies floating dead. But I do
not let their old stories suck me in this morning. Today is View Day, and Ole Nutmeg has made
her some plans.
I have racked my brain six ways to Sunday how to get my puny self noticed. First thing I
did was add a special touch to those View Day cards. I got no idea how long mail takes, but
where I am supposed to put INFANTS 2, I put 10. Ten babies, now that should draw a crowd. I
also started practicing adoptable looks on my face, tilting it side to side. Or else I tried to put on a
one-tough-broad look, sucking up my chest, like I could pick cotton or swing a axe. The look I
choose will depend on their particular household needs.
Even the Big Phony has left me more or less alone. Been too busy gearing up for her
fancy charity award plate luncheon down in Jackson, our great capital. I hope she comes in zero
place. I hope she stands up on accident, thinking they called her name as winner, and has to say,
Oh pardon me, and sit back down while everybody laughs. I have seen it play in my head almost
as many times as I played my mama showing up here.
And if I do get selected by a new family, she better watch out because I got me some
Told You Sos and Thanks for Nothings lined up for her flat self. When I am done with those, I
will flip her the middle finger and make my grand exit on out of here.
It is nice to dream.
I also prepared a statement that I practiced out loud in the office. Of course Dorella had to
be spying on me in the hall and near wet herself laughing. I turned very red in the face, but then I
laughed at myself too. For a second we were both laughing, crazy ole Nutmeg at it again. Then
our laughing trailed off like a far-off traveling train. Dorella stood there watching me in this blue
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egg by myself. She opened her mouth like she was about to ask something soft, but nothing came
out.
All this noise inside us and we can’t make a sound.
Miss Garnett walked up, so Dorella disappeared quick. And then it was her out in the hall
watching me, until she moved on too. I am a regular damn spectacle now.
After that I rehearsed my speech silent to myself. In a nutshell, it goes: Now I know I
might not be much to look at, and I’m probably a little older than you were wanting, but let me
tell you about the good bonus extras that come along with me (and here I will slice a rib roast for
emphasis). In addition to hard work, I can also do long division, carve a ham, read you the
paper out loud, take insults without crying, and play “Oh Peter Go Ring Dem Bells” on a piano,
should you have one of those in your home.
Then I will ease off the high-pressure sale and say, But please, take your time.
This is if anybody decent even comes my way. If it is a awful one, we big girls got tricks
up our sleeve to scare them off. And they show up here, too, looking for field labor, a house
slave. You just throw a fit like a lunatic or wet your pants and they’ll usually move on. Parents
hate a pants wetter, that is a fact.
Soon as Miss Mildred unlocks the big girl door this morning, I scoot downstairs and fill
buckets for the bathtub out on the back porch. There is no point even fooling with a bath if you
are third or fourth in line, it will be thick as a soup gravy. Before the rest even come in, I got my
hair combed, white Sunday dress on, sash in back tied in a bow. And while I might be on the
older side and my parts might be thin, I am bound to smell better than Dorella.
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My tummy hurts from waiting for the afternoon to commence. I worry Miss Garnett
might decide I cannot attend. And even if she does let me join, in the end she can still tell them
what she thinks of me and change their minds.
Today, the Asskisser totes my lunch slop in instead of Miss Mildred. Entirely
overdressed in a navy-blue getup with a red-and-white scarf tied around her goose neck. She is
smiling big. Like somebody paid her to do it.
I hear we’re expecting more than usual at the View today, she says. Must be since Miss
Garnett’s name’s been in all the papers for the charity award.
I don’t know why she is talking to me. If that Asskisser expects me to say I hope Miss
Garnett wins the cash-money prize, she can stick that where the damn sun don’t shine.
Miss Birdie and me, we were talking and she suggested maybe I could try and help you
get matched up with a nice set of adoptive parents today. Wouldn’t that be nice?
I watch her wary. The Asskisser is not even on the damn senior committee. If she tries to
help, she could mess up my whole plan. But I tell her yes ma’am and she looks down at my
lunch, and at this little room like is just now noticing I am stuck in here. Are you alright in here,
Meg?
What can I say but I am fine? Just dreading my own future.
At quarter till, we all file into the toddler room. It is hot and noisy with seventeen orphans
and too many grown women ready to do their part! Us nine big girls are lined up against the left
wall, youngest to oldest, which puts me next to last with Dorella on the end. Somebody will have
to walk almost the entire line of us before they even get to me. In the middle of the room on the
rug, the six toddlers are fussing and getting their runny noses wiped. Miss Fourth of July Frances
is gripping Ella Jane like her last dollar. Both babies are already asleep in ladies’ arms. Miss
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Garnett gives them laudanum so they don’t scream bloody murder. When that second baby gets
adopted, all these ladies will sulk. Probably wonder is the library looking for volunteers.
Miss Garnett is standing at the door like she owns the place. A long drip of sweat runs
down my back, making me squirm. I take a look around and survey my competition.
Now I know I got no chance against the toddlers or babies. My stiffest competition in the
big girl category will be ten-year-old Sue Anne with the pretty dark curls, who unfortunately is
right before me, also Dorella and Ethel since they are strong for field work. The two nine-year-
olds I am bound to be nose to nose with since I am small, but that loose-eyed Fanny and Ginny
with the nose-picking problem I think I got a leg up on.
And if they’re real nasty looking, I hear Dorella tell Fanny, who is new to the game, you
ask do they mind if you’re half colored on your mama’s side.
I heard that, Dorella, the Fatass says. You big girls better not be planning on throwing
any fits today.
Dorella says, Maybe we are and maybe we ain’t.
Well if you do, you’re getting a spanking, young lady. I bet Miss Pripp’s kids wish God
had gave them a different mama. I would put money on that.
Alright, it’s time, Miss Garnett calls from the door. Girls, stand still and erect. The first
ones are coming in now.
The first set of parents walk in. We all draw a breath. Lord, they look good.
Welcome to the Lafayette County Orphan Asylum. May I see your papers? Miss Garnett
asks. They hand over a thing they filled out up front to prove they got a house and twenty-five
dollars to their name. I straighten up and smile. The mama is wearing a store-bought-looking
dress in a nice pink color and a permanent wave in her hair and the man is wearing a proper-
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fitted suit, and on top of that they still look fairly young, least young enough to play a game or
two in the yard.
The mama heads straight for a volunteer holding a baby. She grabs it up like gold. After
hardly a minute they walk out to do paperwork with the inspector. I feel air seep out the big girls
like a line of tires.
Miss Pripp is already talking to a second set in the doorway. They are a lot older than the
first, him in a dusty suit, her dress soft and brown. But they look like they eat fine, and that is
good enough for me. The mama’s eyes start at the young end of the big girls, moving up. But
Miss Garnett gently turns her by the elbow to face the toddlers on the rug.
The mama bends over to look at Ella Jane. Why, aren’t you cute! Ella shrieks and clamps
onto Miss Frances’s leg, making her wobble. After a second of this, I see Miss Garnett give Miss
Frances the eyebrow for letting that toddler attach.
More mamas and daddies are walking in now, two, no, three more sets. I watch Miss
Garnett adjust elbows to where they are not looking right at us big girls. When a wound-up
toddler runs at one of the mamas, the mama smiles but shakes her head at Miss Garnett. After a
discussion I watch Miss Garnett lead her and her husband to the youngest in the big girl line. I
hear Miss Garnett use the word trainable. They are looking back and forth between a seven- and
a eight-year-old like they are on a shopping trip.
That is all right because still more folks have walked in. The room is getting even hotter
with so many mouths breathing in here at once. I know Miss Garnett uses a smallish room so it
looks like there are a lot to choose from. A good selection is important when you are shopping
for a person. But I myself have never seen a crowd like this. Some folks are even stuck waiting
in the hall.
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A few couples look to be making their way down the line, but it is hard to see with so
many folks in here and hard to hear with Ella Jane screaming plus Miss Pripp yapping to where
she might as well be selling a bottle of something out the trunk of her car.
Suddenly a lady’s hand squeezes my arm like to test am I fresh. Then a fat man with a
gold watch chain drooped from his chest pocket wedges in front of me and runs a fat hand
through my hair. I draw back but bite my lip so I will stand still and take it. This is not the day to
throw a epileptic fit. Then I see another couple moving down the line.
Lord, what is wrong with them? I do not think they are old people, but her eyes are
sunken in like those rotten-apple dolls you buy at a country store. His chin is long and skinny
and strange. They look like they might be close related. They skip cross-eyed Fanny and then
also Sue Anne who is already talking to another mama, which leaves only me and Dorella. His
overalls are oily. Her dress is so dirty, I couldn’t say if it’s brown or gray. She looks me up and
down and says to him, Whatcha think about this un, Enoch?
She’s on the puny side, but I reckon she do. He takes my arm and wags it like a tail.
Means she won’t eat much, the shrunk-faced lady says and leans close up to me. Her
breath smells like potted meat. You ever caught a baby before? she asks and grins, and I back
away and see she is big up front. Helping her have a baby sounds even worse than five months
alone and I look around, ready to throw a fit with drool. I don’t even see Miss Garnett in here to
tell them what I am. She must be up in the damn lounge, doing the Special Talks.
The lady turns around and says, I already shote the fat lady our papers—
I’m very sorry, but Meg’s got another family already waiting on her, Miss Frances says.
The rotted-faced woman sighs, blowing awful air in my face, and moves over to Dorella.
I look at Miss Frances grateful and realize . . . she was actually telling the truth.
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I go straight as a pole.
Moving in their place is a couple. Not young and not old. The mama has big brown eyes
and plain brown hair. Her smile is sweet. It is nothing fancy, what she has on, just a regular
faded dress, white with pale blue flowers. She has three little girls of her own hanging on to it
like baby possums. Behind her the daddy is very tall wearing a brown suit. He is holding his hat
in his hands, gentle as a kitten.
Mr. and Mrs. Smith, I’d like you to meet Meg, Miss Frances says. She’s smart and she
can read . . . She glances up like she is trying to remember. And she cleans pretty good too! Now
I’ll let y’all get to know each other.
I look at the mama. My heart is pounding inside my dress.
Meg, why that’s a real nice name, she says, soft. She seems kind and something tells me
she can cook and just those two things will do fine with me. How old are you, honey?
I am eleven and a half, ma’am.
Well, what pretty blue eyes you have, Meg, she says, staring so deep. I can near see clear
to the other side. Under her gentle manner, I will say she looks bone-tired. Like she does not
sleep much for worrying everybody else is.
I be sure and tell her, Thank you, so she knows I got manners. And now it is time to turn
on the charm.
I see you got some little ones there with you. I could look after them, get up in the night,
let you get some rest. I smile at them and the littlest one grins back and she bites down on her
mama’s thigh. This mama doesn’t even flinch. Just says, No chewing on me now, Carolanne.
I can also teach them to play the piano if you have got one of those.
Oh no, we don’t have us a piano, she says and steps back from me a little.
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Well maybe there is one at your church? I say. Or a organ board of some kind?
We do have one at the church, we sure do, and she moves up again like a fish on my line,
but then she frowns. Where your people from? You have kind of a city accent to you.
The way she says that, I can tell this is not good. Oh, no, ma’am. I am from a cotton field
in Mississippi. Which is mostly true.
She nods at this and looks back at the daddy behind her, and they talk with their eyes. I
hunt for Miss Garnett, but she is still gone. Lord, I bet these folks do not even spank very hard.
What do you think, Quitman? she says up to him.
He says, I think she’d make a fine big sister, Mama. She looks like a good helper.
She turns to me and says, We won’t be but a minute, honey, and they speak to Miss
Frances. She leads them as a whole nice family out to the lounge, and if the Lord works in
mysterious ways like the saying goes, they will be back here any minute for our Special Talk.
I stand still and erect, trying to remember to breathe. I wonder if these Smiths have a
toilet inside the house. Maybe some puppies or kittens to play with. A few girls up from me,
Fanny has a arm hitched over her head and is wagging her tongue, straining to wet her pants,
trying to run off the rotted-tooth man and the shrunken-faced wife. I almost feel sorry for her, but
let’s not go that far.
After a couple of minutes of sweating and waiting, here come the Smiths back in the
room. Led by that damn phony Garnett. I watch her stop at Sarah who is nine and standing four
up from me. I hear Miss Garnett say She comes from a big family and better job tending to your
little ones.
Then it all goes fast and slow at once.
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The mama is staring Sarah in the eyes. Telling her what a pretty name it is, isn’t that a
pretty name, Quitman? I grind my teeth because Meg. Meg is the pretty name here! I know it
looks desperate, but I lean up and wave to them, jerking my neck out, but they won’t look at me.
I try and catch Miss Frances’s attention, because she is watching this too. Frowning like she is
confused herself, while Ella Jane bangs her fists on her knees because a mama has chose her and
is trying to take her away. It rises up my throat, the feeling I got to get out of here. Get
somewhere better or die trying.
I watch Sarah walk out with them for her Special Talk. Just like that, the hubbub of the
day is more or less over.
After a while, the Fatass finally lets the six big girls still here sit on the floor. She says,
Bound to be a record, might as well call it a day, because she is ready to go on home. Both
babies, three toddlers, including Ella Jane, and the big girls Sarah, Ethel, and Sue Anne are all
gone. It is just me and the leftovers here. A last straggler walks out, saying she was told there
would be more babies.
First in line now, Ginny starts crying for her mama, digging all up in her nose. I do not
feel like crying, I feel like damn kicking something. I shut my eyes and pretend I am
disappeared.
I guess I drift off against the wall a few minutes.
What do I need to do, write a check or something?
I’m sorry, but I told you there aren’t any babies left, Miss Pripp says.
We drove almost two hours to get here. I guess we’ll look at who you have left.
I open my eyes.
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A very thin but shapely lady in a emerald-colored dress edges her way past Miss Pripp.
Her wavy hair is the color my mama called strawberry blond. While I do not claim to be a expert
on the costs of things, she looks well-off. Shiny red handbag, green hat to match the dress. All us
big girls watch her as she goes for the toddlers.
The Fatass swishes after her. You can’t just walk in here and take one, we got a protocol
you to folla!
I see the lady wrinkle her nose at the poor selection sitting on the rug with Miss Frances,
one with a blotchy skin affliction and two very whiny ones. The lady clicks open her handbag
and hunts inside without looking. Her red lipstick matches the bag dead exact. Now that is taste.
When she pulls a cigarette out, on second thought she just holds it between her fingers. The lady
swivels around on her heels and looks along our wall.
What kind of protocol? she asks the Fatass.
Lord, I think she might be considering a big girl.
I stand up quick and move up in the line, just go ahead and do it. Dorella swats at my
ankle, but I make it to the number two position. Ginny, at the number one, is rooted good in the
corner.
Potential married couples must show proof of proper residence and present a letter
stating they got no less than twenty-five dollars in cash or in a bank.
Closer up I see she is younger and a lot prettier than most that come in here. Fair but not
freckly like some redheads are. She has thick black eyelashes. I got my head sticking out, trying
to get this lady to notice me, but she walks up to the number one spot, to Ginny, who is only
seven. She has pretty yellow hair with curls and for the first time in her life does not have her
finger up her damn nose.
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I’m sorry, but I didn’t bring any of those things. What about this one? she says, looking
at Ginny. Her hair’s a pretty color.
After that, Miss Pripp says like she was so rudely interrupted, all prospective parents
must meet with Chairlady Garnett Pittman and the inspector and only then may they take a girl
to have the Special Talk.
Come on, Ginny.
Miss Frances has got to her feet watching this, but she looks unsure if it is unappropriate
to steer a mama away from a girl. I don’t give a rat’s ass about unappropriate.
The pretty lady is still looking Ginny up and down. If it’s a towheaded girl she wants,
well my hair is the same damn color!
Come on, Ginny.
A tall man in a pale blue suit and glasses has walked in. Darling, I thought we were here
to look at a baby, he says to her.
Come on, girl.
And like a wish come true, UP that nose goes Ginny’s finger, and how it hunts and digs!
The woman curls her lip ever so slight and eases back from. Her eyes and then her feet move to
the next girl, which is . . . What’s your—
I am MEG, I say. Margot is my paper name.
She looks me up and down, then puts her hand out like I am a regular person she met on
the street. I shake it, firm. I heard somewhere a firm handshake will get you places. She looks
sort of impressed. Alright, Meg, Margot. How old are you?
I am eleven, I say and leave that half off.
She says, Hmm.
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Lucille, can we talk about this? the man says. We came for a—
They ran out. She turns and starts hissing something I can’t hear at him, but it makes him
look away and sag in the shoulders. When she is done with him, she says to the air, We’re
interested in this one.
I look at Miss Pripp. Lord, my heart is leapfrogging out my dress. You sure? Miss Pripp
says, giving me a side-eye. Don’t you want you one that’s a little younger and adaptable? The
husband is whispering again to the lady, and she hisses something back to him. It is clear to me
who is running this show.
We’re interested in this one, the lady says again, turning to Miss Pripp. What exactly do
we need to do to . . . She looks over at the door. She is ready to get this show on the road.
Miss Pripp looks unsure. Well, she says, it’d have to be a exception without the proper
paperwork. But I’ll go see can we do anything for you. She walks out.
Miss Frances walks up closer to the couple, on her hip a whiny toddler not near cute as
Ella Jane. She says, Meg here’s a real good selection. She’s smart and neat and—why don’t you
go ahead and ask her some questions.
The lady frowns. Questions . . . like what kind of questions?
Ask her something about herself. Go ahead!
The lady looks over at the door like she is running out of time. Alright, uh . . . what’re
your hopes and dreams, little girl?
To own a full set of encyclopedias and a library card that lets me carry out.
Behind her, the daddy looks at me. Right in the eyes. His glasses are round and made of
thin, gold wire.
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The lady says, Huh, like I have surprised her too, and, Wouldn’t hurt to have one around
that was smart. Before I can tell her just how damn smart I am, here comes the Big Phony, with
a big phony smile.
Excuse me, may I be of help?
I want to kick her I want to scream to get out these folks are mine—
These people here say they’re interested in Meg, Miss Pripp says, following her in, like
she can’t hardly believe it.
Miss Garnett does not miss a beat. She says, Come on with me back to the lounge, where
we can talk further.
Why, is there a problem? this mama says, and there is some irritation in her voice. We’ve
got an awful long drive home this afternoon.
It’s the protocol, I’m afraid, Miss Garnett says. And you’ll need to meet with the
inspector, and only then can you move on to the Special Talk.
I don’t really see the point. We’ve already talked about her hopes and dreams, the mama
says.
But here comes Miss Mildred, bringing the inspector with her.
Garnett, it’s getting late, I better be getting on—oh! The inspector says. Didn’t see you
folks walk in.
The lady looks at him and smiles in a way different than how she smiled at Miss Garnett.
Kind of tilts her head to the side. She says, Hello, sir. I’m delighted to meet you. Now, I’m afraid
we don’t have a whole lot of time this afternoon, but we sure would like to adopt this sweet little
girl.
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The inspector in his white coat slips a look down at her figure. You better believe I am
watching every move. Let’s get you processed, then, the inspector says. I just need to ask you
folks a few questions.
Miss Garnett looks at the door like she’d like to drag these folks through it. She steps in
front of Miss Mildred. I’m so sorry, but I’m afraid this girl isn’t available for adoption. Perhaps
you’d care to look at—
Why not? the lady says.
Because she’s of the age where she’ll be starting the work program in a few months. It’s
a wonderful opportunity—
Not until January! I say and stamp my foot so she will pay me some damn mind.
I’m afraid it’s already been decided, Miss Garnett says, smiling. The work program is
what’s best for a girl like Meg.
Even so, Garnett, our main purpose here is adoption, Miss Mildred says.
Miss Garnett turns back and looks square on at Miss Mildred. And your main purpose is
to stay in the back with the nigra. Miss Mildred opens her mouth, but then just shakes her head
and walks out.
I feel like the floor is sinking under me. I look at Miss Frances but she has lost her nerve.
The toddler she is holding is crying and pulling on that red-and-white scarf.
Now, Miss Garnett is saying, we have several other very nice girls for you to choose
from, so why don’t we move down the line.
But before Miss Garnett can do it, Miss Mildred is coming back in with a little red
handbook in her wrinkled hand. She clears her throat and reads, Amended paragraph one: The
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priority of the Lafayette County Orphan Asylum is to place a girl with an appropriate family. If
she cannot be placed, she may be enrolled in the work program.
Miss Pripp says, Huh, like this is news to her. I feel like I am teetering on a wire.
Well, I reckon I got to agree, Garnett. The girl is eligible, the inspector says.
Good, we’ll take her, the lady says, which is music to my ears. But I do not get too
excited, Lord knows it is not done yet.
I’m telling you, you don’t want this one, Miss Garnett says over the toddler, who is really
wailing now. She has problems—Don’t we all, the lady says, and she gives the daddy a look. He
keeps rubbing a gold wristwatch, like he is scared to talk.
She’s very difficult, she misbehaves, she drew a filthy picture—Frances, will you
PLEASE take that toddler out of here! Miss Frances pats the girl and takes her out, but she
glances one more time back at us.
May I see your credentials, please? the inspector asks.
Unfortunately we didn’t bring those, the lady says. I’m sorry. We would’ve if we’d
known.
Miss Garnett smiles, oh it is icy. I’m afraid we can’t allow any kind of adoption without
the proper papers. It’s the protocol.
I could be sick right here on the floor when I hear that. The lady whispers something
strong to her husband. He does not look happy about it but he fishes a silver case from his coat
pocket, and hands a paper card to the inspector.
Perhaps you’d be willing to make an exception for us, the lady says. The man looks flat-
out embarrassed. I need nothing short of a damn miracle printed on that card.
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The inspector holds it back a distance to see it. His eyebrows rise up. I’ll say. I think
you’ll agree with me, Garnett. He passes the card to her. Then he takes the man’s hand and
shakes it. You’re a Yale man aren’t you, Tom? I believe I read that in the paper. The man nods.
And if I recall, Garnett, Dr. Pittman is too? The inspector turns back to the man. He’s older than
you, but maybe you know Dr. Welty Pittman?
The man nods and stands up straighter. Not well, but I believe my brother Nick knows the
doctor, they were class of ’13 together— The lady gives him a hard poke with her elbow that
shuts the man up quick.
Miss Garnett flattens her hand on her belly like she might have the stomach bug again. I
am afraid to breathe too loud or it could break the spell.
Well, the inspector says, I’d say you’ve got yourself a family, young lady, and he claps a
hand down on my shoulder.
I feel woozy and press a hand to the wall. Am I here or in somebody’s dream?
Garnett, it’s very Christian of you to be so concerned about the girl’s future.
Through the crack of her teeth, Miss Garnett says, Thank you, Richard.
Now, I just need you to answer a few questions for me please. You’re members of a
church, I’m sure, and he makes a check on his clipboard. Should we go ahead and assign Welty
as the child’s physician?
Miss Garnett jerks her neck around. No—that’s not required, you don’t need to put a
doctor down—
Might as well put him down, the inspector says. He hands the man the clipboard. You just
fill in the rest here.
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This is only a trial period. You have two months to return her, Miss Garnett says to the
lady. If she misbehaves, you can bring her right on back here—
But we don’t see that happen very often, the inspector says. A thing in my chest is turning
somersaults. I do not care who these strangers are, just get me the hell out of here. Even if it is
picking a field, it is worth it for Miss Garnett’s face alone. Her smile is tight and she’s trying to
look like she’s still the one in charge. I think of all those big things I planned to say, but I cannot
seem to catch my breath.
While they are signing things, the lady asks do I have any belongings to collect.
Just a few things from here. Poor girl was brung here with nothing but the dress on her
back, Miss Mildred says.
Miss Mildred walks me to the outhouse and I use that nasty thing for the last time in my
life and on the way back, I dash in the office and grab my portrait collection to remember these
ladies’ faces by so I can steer clear of them should I ever see them on the street. I stick them
down in my underpants for safekeeping.
Then Miss Mildred is hugging me into her smelly armpit, saying, May the Lord bless you
and keep you, Meg. To be honest, I can’t believe you made it out of here.
I tell her, You and me both, lady.
Miss Frances hands me a paper sack with my day dress and petticoat. She manages to pat
me on the arm without actually touching me, probably afraid she will get fired for her part in all
this. Good luck, Meg, she whispers. I’ll tell Birdie goodbye for you.
And like a dream the three of us are walking into the little front vestibule. I look over at
that sign of rules that do not make a lick of sense. I sure wish you were here to see this, Ava, I
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whisper to myself. And Birdie too. I turn and see the leftover girls walking quiet up the stairs.
Behind us, Miss Mildred says, Ain’t he gone be happy to hear the news about Meg?
And Miss Garnett spits out the word Who?
Dr. Welty. Since he’s the one brought the poor girl here, half starved to death.
We step out onto the front porch and I see a side of that front door I have not seen since
the day I arrived. I draw in a new breath. The air feels lighter out here, cleaner, bigger! The man,
my new daddy, opens the back door of a fancy black automobile and I get in. The seats are dark
and smooth, cool in the shade.
He goes around to open the passenger front door for her and she slides into the front seat.
Thank God that’s over, the lady says.
He starts the noisy motor, and I feel the rattling under me. As we pull off, I get up on my
knees and look out the back window. Miss Garnett is standing on the front steps, her cold eyes
glued on us. Careful, so my new mama and daddy do not see it, I raise my middle finger up tall
and hard at her. I smile and Miss Garnett jerks ever so slight, like I got the last slap in the face.
Then I watch it all slip away, the old Orphan, Miss Mildred, the Fatass, the Big Phony.
Who knew the Asskisser would side up with ole Nutmeg after all. But as the blue house gets
smaller, I start to lose my breath. I will be right back. I wrote that on the wall somewhere in case
she showed up for me. But mamas do not come back, not ever, Meg. Ava is gone, and Birdie is
gone. They are all gone. As we turn to leave Oxford, I can just see the clock hands on the top of
the courthouse up and over the oak trees, until that is gone too.
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