Look after her. I dont like her in this big house by herself.
Yessuh. Whatever you say.
I came by today to surprise her. I was going to cut down that mimosa tree she hates so much, then take her into town for lunch. Pick out some jewelry for her Christmas present.
Mister Johnny walks to the window, looks out, and sighs. I guess Ill go get lunch in town somewhere.
I fix you something. What you want?
He turns around, grinning like a kid. I start going through the refrigerator, pulling things out.
Remember those pork chops we had that time? He starts nibbling on his fingernail. Will you make those for us this week?
I fix em for supper tonight. Got some in the freezer. And tomorrow night you having chicken and dumplings.
Oh, Cora Blue used to make us those.
Sit up there at the table and Im on do you a good BLT[104]to take with you in the truck.
And will you toast the bread?
A course. Cant have no proper sandwich on no raw bread. And this afternoon Ill make one a Minnys famous caramel cakes. And next week we gone do you a fried catfish
And will you toast the bread?
A course. Cant have no proper sandwich on no raw bread. And this afternoon Ill make one a Minnys famous caramel cakes. And next week we gone do you a fried catfish
I pull out the bacon for Mister Johnnys lunch, get the skillet out to fry. Mister Johnnys eyes are clear and wide. Hes smiling with every part of his face. I fix his sandwich and wrap it in waxed paper. Finally, somebody I get the satisfaction of feeding.
Minny, I have to ask, if youre here what in the world is Celia doing all day?
I shrug. I aint never seen a white woman sit there like she do. Most of em is busy-busy, running errands, acting like they busier than me.
She needs some friends. I asked my buddy Will if hed get his wife to come out and teach her to play bridge, get her in a group. I know Hillys the ringleader of all that stuff.
I stare at him, like if I kept real still, maybe it wouldnt be true. Finally I ask, That Miss Hilly Holbrook you talking about?
You know her? he asks.
Mm-hmm. I swallow the tire iron thats rising up in my throat at the thought of Miss Hilly hanging around this house. Miss Celia finding out the truth about the Terrible Awful. Theres no way those two could be friends. But I bet Miss Hilly would do anything for Mister Johnny.
Ill call Will tonight and ask him again. He pats me on my shoulder and I find myself thinking about that word again, truth. And Aibileens telling Miss Skeeter all about it. If the truth gets out on me, Im done. I crossed the wrong person, and thats all it takes.
Im going to give you my number at the office. Call me if you ever run into trouble, alright?
Yessuh, I say, feeling my dread erase any relief I had coming to me today.
Miss Skeeter
Chapter 11
Its technically winter in most of the nation, but already there is gnashing of teeth and wringing of hands in my mothers house. Signs of spring have come too early. Daddys in a cotton-planting frenzy, had to hire ten extra field workers to till and drive tractors to get the seed in the ground. Mothers been studying The Farmers Almanac, but shes hardly concerned with planting. She delivers the bad news to me with a hand on her forehead.
They say thisll be the most humid one in years. She sighs. The Shinalator never did much good after those first few times. Id pick up some more spray cans down at Beemons, the new extra-heavy kind.
She looks up from the Almanac, narrows her eyes at me. What are you dressed that way for?
I have on my darkest dress, dark stockings. The black scarf over my hair probably makes me look more like Peter OToole in Lawrence of Arabia than Marlene Dietrich. The ugly red satchel hangs from my shoulder.
I have some errands to run tonight. Then Im meeting some girls. At church.
On a Saturday night?
Mama, God doesnt care what day of the week it is, I say and make for the car before she can ask any more questions. Tonight, Im going to Aibileens for her first interview.
My heart racing, I drive fast on the paved town roads, heading for the colored part of town. Ive never even sat at the same table with a Negro who wasnt paid to do so. The interview has been delayed by over a month. First, the holidays came and Aibileen had to work late almost every night, wrapping presents and cooking for Elizabeths Christmas party. In January, I started to panic when Aibileen got the flu. Im afraid Ive waited so long, Missus Stein will have lost interest or forgotten why she even agreed to read it.
I drive the Cadillac through the darkness, turning on Gessum Avenue, Aibileens Street. Id rather be in the old truck, but Mother wouldve been too suspicious and Daddy was using it in the fields. I stop in front of an abandoned, haunted-looking house three down from Aibileens, as we planned. The front porch of the spooky house is sagging, the windows have no panes. I step into the dark, lock the doors and walk quickly. I keep my head lowered, my noisy heels clicking on the pavement.
A dog barks and my keys jangle to the pavement. I glimpse around, pick them up. Two sets of colored people sit on porches, watching, rocking. There are no streetlights so its hard to say who else sees me. I keep walking, feeling as obvious as my vehicle: large and white.