On a Tuesday noon, I carry my lunch on out to the back steps, set down on the cool concrete. Miss Leefolts grass dont grow good back here. A big magnolia tree shades most a the yard. I already know thats the tree gone be Mae Mobleys hideout. In about five years, to hide from Miss Leefolt.
After a while, Mae Mobley waddle out on the back step. She got half her hamburger patty in her hand. She smile up at me and say, Good.
How come you not in there with your mama? I ask, but I know why. She rather be setting out here with the help than in there watching her mama look anywhere but at her. She like one a them baby chickens that get confused and follow the ducks around instead.
Mae Mobley point at the bluebirds getting ready for winter, twittering in the little gray fountain. Boo birds! She point and drop her hamburger down on the step. Out a nowhere, that old bird dog Aubie they dont never pay no mind to come up and gobble it down. I dont take to dogs, but this one is just plain pitiful. I pet him on the head. I bet nobody petted that dog since Christmas.
When Mae Mobley see him, she squeal and grab at his tail. It whap her in the face a few times before she get holt. Poor thing, he whine and give her one a those pitiful people-dog looks, his head turned funny, his eyebrows up. I can almost hear him asking her to turn him loose. He aint the biting kind.[67]
So shell let go, I say, Mae Mobley, where your tail?
So shell let go, I say, Mae Mobley, where your tail?
Sho nuff, she let go and start looking at her rear. Her mouths popped open like she just cant believe she done missed it all this time. She turning in wobbly circles trying to see it.
You aint got no tail. I laugh and catch her fore she fall off that step. Dog sniff around for more hamburger.
It always tickle me how these babies believe anything you tell em. Tate Forrest, one a my used-to-be babies long time ago, stop me on the way to the Jitney just last week, give me a big hug, so happy to see me. He a grown man now. I needed to get back to Miss Leefolts, but he start laughing and memoring how Id do him when he was a boy. How the first time his foot fell asleep and he say it tickle, I told him that was just his foot snoring. And how I told him dont drink coffee or he gone turn colored. He say he still aint drunk a cup a coffee and he twenty-one years old. Its always nice seeing the kids grown up fine.
Mae Mobley? Mae Mobley Leefolt!
Miss Leefolt just now noticing her child aint setting in the same room with her. She out here with me, Miss Leefolt, I say through the screen door.
I told you to eat in your high chair, Mae Mobley. How I ended up with you when all my friends have angels I just do not know But then the phone ring and I hear her stomping off to get it.
I look down at Baby Girl, see how her foreheads all wrinkled up between the eyes. She studying hard on something.
I touch her cheek. You alright, baby?
She say, Mae Mo bad.
The way she say it, like its a fact, make my insides hurt.
Mae Mobley, I say cause I got a notion to try something. You a smart girl?
She just look at me, like she dont know.
You a smart girl, I say again.
She say, Mae Mo smart.
I say, You a kind little girl?
She just look at me. She two years old. She dont know what she is yet.
I say, You a kind girl, and she nod, repeat it back to me. But before I can do another one, she get up and chase that poor dog around the yard and laugh and thats when I get to wondering, what would happen if I told her she something good, ever day?
She turn from the birdbath and smile and holler, Hi, Aibee. I love you, Aibee, and I feel a tickly feeling, soft like the flap a butterfly wings, watching her play out there. The way I used to feel watching Treelore. And that makes me kind a sad, memoring.
After while, Mae Mobley come over and press her cheek up to mine and just hold it there, like she know I be hurting. I hold her tight, whisper, You a smart girl. You a kind girl, Mae Mobley. You hear me? And I keep saying it till she repeat it back to me.
The next few weeks is real important for Mae Mobley. You think on it, you probably dont remember the first time you went to the bathroom in the toilet bowl stead of a diaper. Probably dont give no credit to who taught you, neither. Never had a single baby I raise come up to me and say, Aibileen, why I sure do thank you for showing me how to go in the pot.
Its a tricky thing. You try and get a baby to go in the toilet before its time, itll make em crazy. They cant get the hang of it[68] and get to thinking low a theyselves. Baby Girl, though, I know she ready. And she know she ready. But, Law, if she aint running my fool legs off. I set her on her wooden baby seat so her little hiney dont fall in and soon as I turn my back, she off that pot running.
You got to go, Mae Mobley?
No.
You drunk up two glasses a grape juice, I know you got to go.
Nooo.
I give you a cookie if you go for me.
We look at each other awhile. She start eyeing the door. I dont hear nothing happening in the bowl. Usually, I can get them going after about two weeks. But thats if I got they mamas helping me. Little boys got to see they daddy doing it standing-up style, little girls got to see they mama setting down. Miss Leefolt wont let that girl come near her when she going, and thats the trouble.