Chapter 21
My room is full of sun when I open my eyes. I close them and open them again just to make sure
I am actually here. Even though it feels late, my stomach isn’t growling. For a while, I just
admire the little roof over my bed, how it gathers in the center into a big delicious-looking pink
button. Well . . . maybe I am a little hungry.
Then I remember the argument in the night. Lucille saying HER. And something about
money. Stare up at that button, and I worry what it could be. I have not cost them any money to
speak of, except what I have ate in food. Remembering her angry voice makes my stomach hurt
a little. And then I see something and I sit up.
On the bench seat under the window are three big white bags with handles like you get at
a store. I crawl out and peek inside . . . Lord, these are clothes. New clothes, and they look about
my size!
Well, I start whipping it all out. There is a pink dress, two white dresses, and a blue
flowery dress. One of the white dresses has got beautiful bluebirds sewed on the collar. Also
there are some fold-down socks, bloomers with eyelet trim, two long nightgowns with fluffy
ruffles on the front, two playclothes sets, one in green and one in a red floral design that I do not
much care for, and two sets of actual shoes, a white and a black pair that are the strap-over-the-
foot kind. In another sack is a soft baby-blue sweater. Sewn in the back is a label that reads
Sweaterette of Lamb’s Wool, just like those mittens at the Neilson’s Department Store. I also find
a stuffed bear missing a eye, a bag of jacks with a ball, and a box of Tinkertoys that looks played
with already but still in pretty good shape.
339
I notice some scuff marks on the bottoms of the shoes, so they must be hand-me-downs
from somebody. But I think again about how that fight in the night was about spending money,
so maybe this all came from a secondhand store of some kind.
At the bottom of a bag is a real live pink bathing costume with a matching pink rubber
cap! It has got funny suction cup flowers that suck up my finger when I push down on them.
Quick as I can, I pull off my old petticoat to try things on. I would flush the damn thing down the
toilet if I could. But that would stop up the pipe and then you would be in trouble, Meg. You
better be careful what all you put down that toilet stool. I stuff it in the paper sack I came here
with and stick it up under the bed.
I try the bluebird dress on first, paired with the lamb’s wool sweaterette for the fall
season. They both fit but with room to grow on. Then I run down the hall to show Lucille and
Tom how good it looks. I knock and say her name. Knock and say his name. After a minute, the
door flies open.
WHAT. Is it. Meg? Lucille says.
I just—I wanted to say thank you. For all the nice clothes.
Black makeup is smeared around her eyes, and a mask is pushed up on her forehead. She
breathes in deep through her nose.
I’m sorry I woke you up, Lucille, I say.
It’s fine. She says this very clearly. But in the future, please do not wake me up again.
And she shuts the door in my face so hard it makes me blink.
I go back to my room and tell myself it’s all right. Lord knows I have had worse than a
door slammed in my face. And who does like to get woke up in the morning. That is plain human
nature.
340
***
Except to get food and water, I stay put in my room the rest of the morning. Soon as I hang up a
white dress, I got to pull the bluebird one off the hanger and try it on again. Only the shiny pink
one is too small and too babyish for my age, and I hate it. None are soft as my old flour sack
from the Orphan, but they all smell better.
Tom checks to make sure I am alright before he goes downstairs to work in his office.
Willy May must’ve come and gone early, so I carry some biscuits and ham up to my room to
enjoy. Nobody said it wasn’t allowed.
And who is that girl in the mirror? It has been almost two years since I saw my whole
naked self. I have grown some inches taller, but it is like the rest of me plumb washed down the
drain. All I got left is ribs and skin, a odd personality, and a lot of white hair stuck on top. And
lookathere, it is already starting to turn darker underneath, like my mama said would happen. My
left ear still sticks out more than my right, though. Which I don’t like, but at least I am used to it.
I guess a person should only have to tolerate so many surprises in a day.
When I feel it is time for a midmorning snack, I put on the green flower play set. It has a
skirt and matching top with white piping on the edges. I wear it to the kitchen, expecting
compliments. Sure enough, Tom comes in and says, Well, that looks better. Green suits you.
I tell him thank you, Lucille made some good selections. But if she needs to return some
to the store for money back, I add, I understand. Long as they don’t argue on account of me.
Tom asks will I be alright playing in my room today and I tell him yes sir, that I am a
expert in ways to pass the time.
The jacks-and-ball set does not interest me much, so I play with the Tinkertoys, sticking
sticks in the wheels and making funny people shapes. After that, I stroll by the mirror like I am
341
minding my own beeswax. Then I act all surprised to see me and exclaim, Why, hello there, little
girl, what’s your name? So I tell her Meg. Would you like to come and play with me, Meg? And I
say, Well I sure would! It is fun for the first fifteen times or so and when I am tired of it, she says
her name is Dorella. And when she asks to play, I tell her, No and I hope you catch polio and
have to walk around in those metal leg braces. Then I lay on my bed and listen to the rain
coming down. It is odd to miss people you didn’t even like.
In case anybody wants to visit, I keep my door open wide. When I hear feet pad in the
hall, I go stand in the doorway.
Lucille jumps like she forgot I was even in here.
She is still in her floral robe, but her hair is all fixed so the red curls cup around her face.
She picks at my blouse to puff up the shoulder and says, Looks like this one fits you pretty good.
Yes ma’am, I got it all hung up, so you do not need to do a thing. And I run and open up
my closet door. I wave my hand to display how the hangers are perfectly spaced.
She looks like she wants to go somewhere else. But she walks on in.
Alright, I say, everything fits or has some room to grow on except for that pink one runs
way too short. So you’ll want to return that for some money back since it runs so short.
Like I told Tom, it will not hurt my feelings. Maybe not that bluebird dress, but definitely
the pink one. And that unattractive red floral item. They can go right straight back to the store.
She ticks through the hangers and tsks. I can adjust those back when she goes out. I was
really hoping the pink one would fit you, she says.
The bluebird one is my actual favorite. I reach past her. You see how those bluebirds are
sewed on? That is some quality work. I hold it up and pose with one foot out.
She shakes her head. Maybe I can let the pink one out a little.
342
But the more I look at that fussy baby pink one, the more I hate it. I want to let her know
that without sounding ungrateful. Did you . . . have a favorite dress growing up, Lucille?
Sugar, I didn’t have shit growing up.
I look at her. I have not heard a grown woman use that word before. Where did you grow
up exactly?
Yazoo County, she says. Don’t worry, you’re not missing anything if you’ve never heard
of it. She sighs. I’m like you. I didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth.
But Tom, he grew up with the spoon in his mouth?
Lucille laughs deep as a man. Well, yes. To the extent that he even grew up. She takes the
bluebird dress from me and hangs it up and pulls the pink dress back out. I want you to wear this
pink one when you meet the Heidelbergs, alright, sugar? I’ll see if I can let the hem down a little.
But. It’s too small all over, I say. The shape is wrong for a eleven-year-old. That one’s
for a littler girl. The skirt flares out like something that stupid little Shirley Temple would wear.
Exactly, she says.
But.
Can I trust you to wear this without making a fuss, or do we need to discuss it, Meg?
I would like not to discuss that dress anymore. I tell her, Yes ma’am, you can trust me.
Good. She smiles. Remember, I scratch your back, and you scratch mine, alright? We
girls need to look out for each other.
I still don’t like that dress, but I nod.
***
For supper, I still got my green playsuit on. Lucille comes down behind me wearing a long black
dress with a sparkly belt and silver bracelets clinking on her arm. She has drawed a black line
343
along the top of her eyes that turns up at the ends like a cat. Eye corners point up, mouth corners
point down. It is not a friendly look, but it is interesting.
Well you sure are dressed up tonight, Tom says, standing up. I remember that one. He
tries to kiss her on the lips, but she turns a cheek to him.
Somebody’s got to entertain all those nice things in the closet. Else they might pack up
and move back to New York.
I’m sorry, darling, I know you’re bored. But the good news is I had another productive
day writing. He winks at me. I think Meg here might be my good luck charm.
Well, aren’t y’all cute, she says sort of snippy and goes in the kitchen. I don’t let it take
the fun out of being his good luck charm. My mind is on what is for supper anyway.
When Lucille comes back out of the kitchen, her face says it all: Glory hallelujah, it is
fried chicken night at the Heidelberg home.
I am setting the table when Lucille opens the china cabinet. I see her push a wood panel
aside in the back and reach behind it and pull a bottle out of what looks like a secret
compartment. I think what in the world and then I put two and two together. I bet that is illegal
liquor in there. And that is where they hide it from the police. Who would guess I am living with
criminals?
Well I can’t stand it and ask, Aren’t you afraid the sheriff will arrest you for that?
Lucille says HA loud enough for Tom to hear and, But if I did, at least I’d get my name in
the paper. My name hasn’t been in print since Edith’s coming-out party.
She goes back in the kitchen and hacks ice off a block and throws it in a clear pitcher,
then pours stuff from the bottle on top.
Care to imbibe tonight, Tom? she asks.
344
He says, No. And that is all he has to say about that.
Tonight, Tom sets the bowls of food directly on the table. A basket of dee-licious-looking
fried chicken in a red-checked napkin, mashed potatoes, gravy, some green peas I will not be
touching, and a bowl of fruit mix with something suspicious sprinkled on top. And like a grand-
prize finale, a plate of fluffy buttery biscuits.
When we sit down, Lucille waves the chicken basket away from her, saying all she’s
having tonight is ambrosia salad. Good. More. For. Me. When Tom holds the basket my way, I
take a leg. Around here you can go back for seconds so you do not appear greedy the first time.
According to manners, there are only two things in the world a person is allowed to eat
with fingers: a vegetable I do not recall and fried chicken. Which works out good since that’s the
way fried chicken tastes best. This chicken is crispy and brown on the outside, but when I take a
bite, oh it is too hot! I cover my mouth with my hand so not to chew with it open. Breathe and
chew and keep a eye on my plate. Lord, I will be a hundred and still making sure nobody steals
my damn food.
I am just about to take a second bite when all of a sudden my happiness is interrupted by
a very loud BRRRIIING in the next room. I near jump clean out of my skin.
It’s just the telephone, Meg, Tom says gently. You’ve never heard a telephone before?
No sir. I feel like a little fool. Sounded like the house was on damn fire to me.
Lucille gets up to stop the racket, and I work on my mashed potato walls. I push them
high like a fortress to keep the pool of gravy from spilling over. I do not like my food touching.
These are some very tasty potatoes and gravy. Tom has got his ear up, like he is listening to the
next room. After a minute, Lucille sits back down. She takes a long sip of her drink and says,
Well. That was Willy May at the big house. They’ll be home in a few days.
345
But I thought they’d be gone until at least next week, Tom says.
Telegram said seas favorable. Home sooner than expected. She grips the pitcher and
refills her glass, splashing some on the table.
If they mean the Heidelbergs, I personally am looking forward to meeting these cousins.
Tom sets his napkin on the table and says he’s calling to find out more. I go back to my chicken
leg. Wonder should I help myself to that good-looking thigh before I finish this leg? Just to see
how nice it’ll look on my plate . . .
Meg. Meg, I need you to look at me.
I look at her. The chicken leg still stuffed in my mouth.
Did you hear? Tom’s family’s coming home soon, so you’ll be meeting everybody.
Yes ma’am.
Set the chicken leg down and listen to me. I set the chicken leg down. Now, I need to tell
you exactly what to say when you meet the Heidelbergs.
Do you know how old they are and if there are any girls my age—
LISTEN to me, Meg. She sets both her elbows on the table. Which is rude. I have not met
a woman yet could stand a elbow on a table.
When you meet Mr. and Mrs. Heidelberg, I want you to tell them exactly this: You tell
them that we adopted you from a Mrs. Georgia Tann at the Tennessee Children’s Home Society
in Memphis, Tennessee. You understand that? Mrs. Georgia Tann, Tennessee Children’s Home
Society, Memphis, Tennessee.
Yes ma’am, but—
Now I’ll say it again: Mrs. Georgia Tann, Tennessee Children’s Home Society, Memphis,
Tennessee. Now you say it back.
346
