The Help. Part 23

"I be alright. I'm close." My house is seven blocks from here.

"Want me to walk you?"

I kind a do, but I shake my head. "Naw, thank you. I be fine."

A news truck whiz by, way down at the intersection the bus turned off of. Big WLBT-TV letters on the side.

"Law, I hope this ain't as bad as it--" but the man gone. They ain't a soul now but me. I get that feeling people talk about, right before they get mugged. In two seconds, my stockings is rubbing together so fast I sound like zippers zipping. Up ahead I see three people walking fast like me. All of em turn off, go into houses, shut the door.

I'm real sure I don't want to be alone another second. I cut between Mule Cato's house and the back a the auto repair, then through Oney Black's yard, trip on a hose-pipe in the dark. I feel like a burglar. Can see lights on inside the houses, heads bent down, lights that should be off this time a night. Whatever going on, everbody either talking about it or listening to it.

Finally, up ahead I see Minny's kitchen light, back door open, screen door closed. The door make a whine when I push it. Minny setting at the table with all five kids: Leroy Junior, Sugar, Felicia, Kindra, and Benny. I guess Leroy Senior gone to work. They all staring at the big radio in the middle a the table. A wave a static come in with me.

"What is it?" I say. Minny frown, fiddle with the dial. In a second I take in the room: a ham slice curled and red in a skillet. A tin can on the counter, lid open. Dirty plates in the sink. Ain't Minny's kitchen at all.

"What happen?" I ask again.

The radio man come into tune, hollering, "--almost ten years serving as the Field Secretary for the N-double-A-C-P. Still no word from the hospital but wounds are said to be--"

"Who?" I say.

Minny stare at me like I ain't got my head on. "Medgar Evers. Where you been?"

"Medgar Evers? What happen?" I met Myrlie Evers, his wife, last fall, when she visit our church with Mary Bone's family. She wore this smart red-and-black scarf tied on her neck. I remember how she looked me in the eye, smiled like she was real glad to meet me. Medgar Evers like a celebrity around here, being so high in the NAACP.

"Set down," Minny say. I set in a wooden chair. They all ghost-faced, staring at the radio. It's about half the size of a car engine, wood, four k.n.o.bs on it. Even Kindra quiet in Sugar's lap.

"KKK shot him. Front a his house. A hour ago."

I feel a p.r.i.c.kle creep up my spine. "Where he live?"

"On Guynes," Minny say. "The doctors got him at our hospital."

"I . . . saw," I say, thinking a the bus. Guynes ain't but five minutes away from here if you got a car.

". . . witnesses say it was a single man, a white male, who jumped from the bushes. Rumors of KKK involvement are . . ."

Now they's some unorganized talking on the radio, some people yelling, some fumbling round. I tense up like somebody watching us from outside. Somebody white. The KKK was here, five minutes away, to hunt down a colored man. I want a close that back door.

"I was just informed," the announcer say, panting, the announcer say, panting, "that Medgar Evers is dead." "that Medgar Evers is dead."

"Medgar Evers," he sound like he getting pushed around, voices round him, he sound like he getting pushed around, voices round him, "I was just told. Has died." "I was just told. Has died."

Oh Law. Law.

Minny turn to Leroy Junior. Her voice low, steady.

"Take your brothers and your sisters in the bedroom. Get in bed. And stay back there." It always sound scarier when a hollerer talk soft.

Even though I know Leroy Junior want a stay, he give em a look and they all disappear, quiet, quick. The radio man go quiet too. For a second, that box nothing but brown wood and wires. "Medgar Evers," "Medgar Evers," he say, his voice sound like it's rolling backwards, he say, his voice sound like it's rolling backwards, "NAACP Field Secretary, is dead." "NAACP Field Secretary, is dead." He sigh. He sigh. "Medgar Evers is dead." "Medgar Evers is dead."

I swallow back a mouthful a spit and stare at Minny's wallpaint that's gone yellow with bacon grease, baby hands, Leroy's Pall Malls. No pictures or calendars on Minny's walls. I'm trying not to think. I don't want a think about a colored man dying. It'll make me remember Treelore.

Minny's hands is in fists. She gritting her teeth. "Shot him right in front a his children children, Aibileen."

"We gone pray for the Everses, we gone pray for Myrlie . . ." but it just sound so empty, so I stop.

"Radio say his family run out the house when they heard the shots. Say he b.l.o.o.d.y, stumbling round, all the kids with blood all over em . . ." She slap her hand on the table, rattling the wood radio.

I hold my breath, but I feel dizzy. I got to be the one who's strong. I got to keep my friend here from losing it.

"Things ain't never gone change in this town, Aibileen. We living in h.e.l.l, we trapped. trapped. Our Our kids kids is trapped." is trapped."

Radio man get loud again, say, ". . . policemen everywhere, blocking the road. Mayor Thompson is expected to hold a press conference shortly--"

I choke then. The tears roll down. It's all them white peoples that breaks me, standing around the colored neighborhood. White peoples with guns, pointed at colored peoples. Cause who gone protect our peoples? Ain't no colored policemans.

Minny stare at the door the kids went through. Sweat's drilling down the sides a her face.

"What they gone do to us, Aibileen? If they catch us . . ."

I take a deep breath. She talking about the stories. "We both know. It be bad."

"But what would they do? Hitch us to a pickup and drag us behind? Shoot me in my yard front a my kids? Or just starve us to death?"

Mayor Thompson come on the radio, say how sorry he is for the Evers family. I look at the open back door and get that watched feeling again, with a white man's voice in the room.

"This ain't . . . we ain't doing civil rights here. We just telling stories like they really happen."

I turn off the radio, take Minny's hand in mine. We set like that, Minny staring at the brown moth pressed up on the wall, me staring at that flap a red meat, left dry in the pan.

Minny got the most lonesome look in her eyes. "I wish Leroy was home," she whisper.

I doubt if them words ever been said in this house before.

FOR DAYS and DAYS, Jackson, Mississippi's like a pot a boiling water. On Miss Leefolt's tee-vee, flocks a colored people march up High Street the day after Mister Evers' funeral. Three hundred arrested. Colored paper say thousands a people came to the service, but you could count the whites on one hand. The police know who did it, but they ain't telling n.o.body his name.

I come to find that the Evers family ain't burying Medgar in Mississippi. His body's going to Was.h.i.+ngton, to the Arlington Cemetery, and I reckon Myrlie real proud a that. She should be. But I'd want him here, close by. In the newspaper, I read how even the President a the United States telling Mayor Thompson he need to do better. Put a committee together with blacks and whites and work things out down here. But Mayor Thompson, he say--to President Kennedy President Kennedy--"I am not going to appoint a bi-racial committee. Let's not kid ourselves. I believe in the separation of the races, and that's the way it's going to be."

Few days later, the mayor come on the radio again. "Jackson, Mississippi, is the closest place to heaven there is," he say. "And it's going to be like this for the rest of our lives."

For the second time in two months, Jackson, Mississippi's in the Life Life magazine. This time, though, we make the cover. magazine. This time, though, we make the cover.

chapter 15.

NONE A THE MEDGAR EVERS talk come up in Miss Leefolt's house. I change the station when she come back from her lunch meeting. We go on like it's a nice summer afternoon. I still ain't heard hide nor hair from Miss Hilly and I'm sick a the worry that's always in my head.

A day after the Evers funeral, Miss Leefolt's mama stop by for a visit. She live up in Greenwood, Mississippi, and she driving down to New Orleans. She don't knock, Miss Fredericks just waltz on in the living room where I'm ironing. She give me a lemony smile. I go tell Miss Leefolt who here.

"Mama! You're so early! You must've gotten up at the crack of dawn this morning, I hope you didn't tire yourself out!" Miss Leefolt say, rus.h.i.+ng into the living room, picking up toys fast as she can. She shoot me a look that say, now. now. I put Mister Leefolt's wrinkled s.h.i.+rts in a basket, get a cloth for Baby Girl's face to wipe off the jelly. I put Mister Leefolt's wrinkled s.h.i.+rts in a basket, get a cloth for Baby Girl's face to wipe off the jelly.

"And you look so fresh and stylish this morning, Mama." Miss Leefolt smiling so hard she getting bug-eyed. "Are you excited about your shopping trip?"

From the good Buick she drive and her nice buckle shoes, I spec Miss Fredericks got a lot more money than Mister and Miss Leefolt do.

"I wanted to break up the drive. And I was hoping you'd take me to the Robert E. Lee for lunch," Miss Fredericks say. I don't know how this woman can stand her own self. I heard Mister and Miss Leefolt arguing about how evertime she come to town, she make Miss Leefolt take her to the fanciest place in town and then sit back and make Miss Leefolt pay the bill.

Miss Leefolt say, "Oh, why don't we have Aibileen fix us lunch here? We have a real nice ham and some--"

"I stopped by to go out to lunch. Not to eat here."

"Alright. Alright, Mama, let me just go get my handbag."

Miss Fredericks look down at Mae Mobley playing with her baby doll, Claudia, on the floor. She bend down and give her a hug, say, "Mae Mobley, did you like that smocked dress I sent over last week?"

"Yeah," Baby Girl say to her Granmama. I hated showing Miss Leefolt how tight that dress was around the middle. Baby Girl getting plumper.

Miss Fredericks, she scowl down at Mae Mobley. "You say yes ma'am, yes ma'am, young lady. Do you hear me?" young lady. Do you hear me?"

Mae Mobley, she get a dull look on her face, say, "Yes ma'am." But I know what she thinking. She thinking, Great. Just what I need today. Another lady in this house who don't like me. Great. Just what I need today. Another lady in this house who don't like me.

They head out the door with Miss Fredericks pinching the back a Miss Leefolt's arm. "You don't know how to hire proper help, Elizabeth. It is her job to make sure Mae Mobley has good manners. manners."

"Alright, Mama, we'll work on it."

"You can't just hire anybody and hope you get lucky."

After while, I fix Baby Girl that ham sandwich Miss Fredericks too good to eat. But Mae Mobley only take one bite, push it away.

"I don't feel good. My froat hurts, Aibee."

I know what a froat is and I know how to fix it. Baby Girl getting a summer cold. I heat her up a cup a honey water, little lemon in it to make it good. But what this girl really needs is a story so she can go to sleep. I lift her up in my arms. Law, she getting big. Gone be three years old in a few months, and pudgy as a punkin.

Ever afternoon, me and Baby Girl set in the rocking chair before her nap. Ever afternoon, I tell her: You kind, you smart, you important. You kind, you smart, you important. But she growing up and I know, soon, them few words ain't gone be enough. But she growing up and I know, soon, them few words ain't gone be enough.

"Aibee? Read me a story?"

I look through the books to see what I'm on read to her. I can't read that Curious George Curious George one more time cause she don't want a hear it. Or one more time cause she don't want a hear it. Or Chicken Little Chicken Little or or Madeline Madeline neither. neither.

So we just rock in the chair awhile. Mae Mobley lean her head against my uniform. We watch the rain dripping on the water left in the green plastic pool. I say a prayer for Myrlie Evers, wis.h.i.+ng I'd had work off to go to the funeral. I think on how her ten-year-old son, somebody told me, had cried so quiet through the whole thing. I rock and pray, feeling so sad, I don't know, something just come over me. The words just come out.

"Once upon a time they was two little girls," I say. "One girl had black skin, one girl had white."

Mae Mobley look up at me. She listening.

"Little colored girl say to the little white girl, 'How come your skin be so pale?' White girl say, 'I don't know. How come your skin be so black? What you think that mean?'

"But neither one a them little girls knew. So little white girl say, 'Well, let's see. You got hair, I got hair.' " I gives Mae Mobley a little tousle on her head.

"Little colored girl say 'I got a nose, you got a nose.' " I gives her little snout a tweak. She got to reach up and do the same to me.

"Little white girl say, 'I got toes, you got toes.' And I do the little thing with her toes, but she can't get to mine cause I got my white work shoes on.

"'So we's the same. Just a different color,' say that little colored girl. The little white girl she agreed and they was friends. The End."

Baby Girl just look at me. Law, that was a sorry story if I ever heard one. Wasn't even no plot to it. But Mae Mobley, she smile and say, "Tell it again."

So I do. By the fourth time, she asleep. I whisper, "I'm on tell you a better one next time."

"DON'T WE HAVE MORE TOWELS, Aibileen? This one's fine, but we can't take this old ratty thing, I'd be embarra.s.sed to death. I guess we'll just take the one, then."

Miss Leefolt all in a tizzy. She and Mister Leefolt don't belong to no swim club, not even the d.i.n.ky Broadmoore pool. Miss Hilly call this morning and ask if she and Baby Girl want to go swimming at the Jackson Country Club and that's a invitation Miss Leefolt ain't had but once or twice. I probably been there more times than she has.

You can't use paper money there, you got to be a member and charge it to your account and one thing I know about Miss Hilly is, she don't like to carry n.o.body's costs. I reckon Miss Hilly got other ladies she go to the Country Club with, ones who got the members.h.i.+ps.

We still ain't heard another word about the satchel. Ain't even seen Miss Hilly in five days. Neither has Miss Skeeter, which is bad. They sposed to be best friends. Miss Skeeter, she brung over the first Minny chapter last night. Miss Walter was no cup a tea and if Miss Hilly saw anything relating to that, I don't know what's gone happen to us. I just hope Miss Skeeter ain't too scared to tell me if she heard anything new.

I put Baby Girl's yellow bikini on. "You got to keep you top on, now. They don't let no nekkid babies swim at the country club." Nor Negroes nor Jews. I used to work for the Goldmans. The Jackson Jews got to swim at the Colonial Country Club, the Negroes, in May's Lake.

I feed Baby Girl a peanut b.u.t.ter sandwich and the phone ring.

"Miss Leefolt residence."

"Aibileen, hey, it's Skeeter. Is Elizabeth there?"

"Hey Miss Skeeter . . ." I look over at Miss Leefolt, about to hand her the phone, but she wave her hands. She shake her head and mouth, No. Tell her I'm not here. No. Tell her I'm not here.

"She . . . she gone, Miss Skeeter," I say and I look Miss Leefolt right in the eye while I tell her lie. I don't understand it. Miss Skeeter a member a the club, wouldn't be no trouble inviting her.

At noontime, we all three get in Miss Leefolt's blue Ford Fairlane. On the back seat next to us, I got a bag with a Thermos a apple juice, cheese nabs, peanuts, and two Co-Cola bottles that's gone be like drinking coffee they gone be so hot. I spec Miss Leefolt know Miss Hilly ain't gone be pus.h.i.+ng us to the snack bar. Law knows why she invite her today.

Baby Girl ride in my lap in the back seat. I crank the window down, let the warm air blow on our faces. Miss Leefolt keep poofing her hair up. She a stop-and-go driver and I feel nauseous, wish she'd just keep both hands on the wheel.

We pa.s.s the Ben Franklin Five and Dime, the Seale-Lily Ice Cream drive-thru. They got a sliding window on the back side so colored folk can get our ice cream too. My legs is sweating with Baby Girl setting on me. After while, we on a long, b.u.mpy road with pasture on both sides, cows flapping at the flies with they tails. We count us twenty-six cows but Mae Mobley just call out "Ten" after the first nine. That's high as she know.

Bout fifteen minutes later, we pull onto a paved drive. The club's a low, white building with p.r.i.c.kle bushes around it, not nearly so fancy as folks talk about it. They's plenty a parking places up front, but Miss Leefolt think on it a second, park a ways back.

We step out onto the blacktop, feel the heat cover us. I got the paper sack in one hand, Mae Mobley's hand in the other and we trudge across the steaming black lot. Gridlines make it like we on a charcoal grill, roasting like corncobs. My face getting tight, burning in the sun. Baby Girl lagging back on my hand looking stunned like she just got slapped. Miss Leefolt panting and frowning at the door, still twenty yards away, wondering, I reckon, why she park so far. The part in my hair get to burning, then itching, but I can't scratch at it cause both hands is full then whoo! whoo! somebody blow out the flame. The lobby's dark, cool, heaven. We blink awhile. somebody blow out the flame. The lobby's dark, cool, heaven. We blink awhile.

Miss Leefolt look around, blind and shy, so I point to the side door. "Pool that a way, ma'am."

She look grateful I know my way around so she don't have to ask like poor folk.