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Authors: Gail Giles

Girls Like Us (15 page)

BOOK: Girls Like Us
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After we listened to each other’s tapes, I went to Quincy’s room. I sat on her bed. “You know they’re right, don’t you?”

“Which part? Me being a ho or the part that they can kill me?”

“I told you before you ain’t no ho. You got to believe it in your own head.”

“I keep thinking I must of done sumpin’ made them think . . .”

I didn’t let her finish. Quincy always talks real loud when she wants a body to understand. So I raised up my voice. Kind of hollered right in her face. “If you cook me dinner — and I don’t want to eat it — and you shove the food down my throat, then who’s the bad one? Me or you?”

Quincy close her eyes and tears leak out. She wipe her cheek with the sash of her robe. Then she laughed. I thought she gone crazy.

“How’d you get so smart? You cain’t even read.”

I stared. Trying to figure out what was what. Maybe I needed to put her back in the shower. With cold water this time.

Quincy nodded her head. “We gonna call the police and get that piece of trash arrested.”

Quincy looked so happy. I hated to make her sad again. But I had to. “Quincy, you’re right. But other peoples won’t believe it. Police or nobody else care what happen to girls like us.”

All the air seemed to go out of her. None of that Quincy-fight no more.

“You right,” she said real quiet.

“You can’t tell nobody.” I handed her another tape. “This will tell you why.”

I’m all mixed up. I feel one way, then I feel another, and then I don’t know what I feel or what to think or how to do. If it wasn’t for Biddy, I’d fly off into pieces. I took Biddy’s new tape and put it in the player. She stayed right beside me while I listened.

I got dressed. I threw my underwear in a ditch when I left the barn.

When I got home, I told Granny what those boys done. She slapped me ’cross my face and called me Slut. Said I was no good like my mama. Told me I got what I deserved and to quit sniveling.

She wouldn’t let me take a bath. Told me to sleep with the smell of rut so I’d learn to keep my legs together.

I got all the candy and cookies in the house and pinned them inside my coat. So nobody could trick me again.

I never told what happened. I know those boys told that I ask them to do me. I know telling my story wouldn’t make peoples change they minds.

I never know when my monthlies was gonna come around, but I started puking in the morning sometime later. Granny told me I was pregnant.

I wore my coat and Granny bought me big T-shirts. I ate everything I could.

When I had my baby, Granny and the doctor told me to print my name on a piece of paper. They said it was the baby’s birth ’tificate. I signed it like they said.

Later, Granny told me that the paper said that I gave my baby away. And I couldn’t do nothing about it. She said if I tried to get my baby back, I’d go to jail, because the baby’s new parents paid my hospital. It would be like I was stealing.

That scared me real bad. Granny told me I was too stupid to raise a child. She told me that my child was a normal child. Shouldn’t be stuck with such as me. I guess that true. I miss my baby. I would like to have held it. Sung it to sleep.

I don’t like touching nobody, but I put my hand on Biddy’s like Lizabeth do. It was almost like her pain made mine easy down. But I felt bad too. I knew for sure that I couldn’t tell ’bout Robert. I’d pay more for telling than I’d ever get back. And if I tole on Robert and he did come to find me and kill me, he’d as like hurt Biddy too. Biddy been hurt enough for stuff that wasn’t ever her fault.

I needed me another shower.

I never listened to my tapes before. I felt strange hearing my voice. It made me sadder listening to how Granny done me than when it happened. I wonder why. Quincy pat my hand. Took another shower. I figured she’d be taking lots of showers now. It’s hard to feel clean again. You have to scrub everything around you to feel even a little better.

I found some ointment. Quincy found a box that she said was First Aid. We learned about that in our classes. I knew there would be bandages. Quincy let me put ointment on her stomach cuts. I covered them with a white bandage. I think she felt better with that word covered.

I told Quincy to go to bed. I’d sleep on the floor in her room. I was used to sleeping on a pallet. It surprised me when Quincy didn’t argue.

I don’t think Quincy slept. She tossed in bed. I heard her crying. I didn’t know nothing else to do but be there.

Next morning, Quincy took another shower. After I made her a new bandage, I trotted her Brown Cow uniform to Miss Lizzy washer. I told Miss Lizzy that Quincy had flu. Could she call the Brown Cow and tell them? I made Miss Lizzy cereal and tea.

Quincy looked bad awful. Her eyes was swollen. Her face had bruises I hadn’t seen last night. All her sass was gone.

“Quincy,” I said, “this is the baddest thing that’s ever gonna happen to you. There’s gonna be nothing but good stuff now.”

“Biddy, for people like us, they’s nothing but a string of bad waiting.”

I grabbed her and I hugged her tight.

Biddy grab me in a hug. I stiff up to pull back, but Biddy wouldn’t let go. She hug harder and pet the back of my head. Then the warm of it kind of seep in, and I sigh and let her hug. I bawled again. It be a different crying. The kind that feel good.

Quincy slept the rest of the day. I fixed canned soup for supper. She ate it. She didn’t talk, but she didn’t seem so — I don’t know — I don’t got a word for it. We sat in front of our TV. Watched some shows.

The next day and the day after, I told Miss Lizzy that Quincy was still poorly. Then it was Quincy’s regular day off. She got up late that morning. We ate cereal for lunch.

“What Lizabeth been eating?” she asked.

Quincy hadn’t said nothing for so long that I almost caught me hiccups from the surprise.

“I been warming soup. I made salad.”

“I guess she ain’t dead yet. You cain’t do much harm with that stuff.”

It was good for Quincy to fuss.

Quincy look me up and down. She reached out and give me a fast hug. She backed up like she scare herself.

“I’m getting dressed. This bathrobe is funky smelling. Besides, we got us something to do.”

“What?” I asked Quincy.

“I’m teaching you to cook.”

Biddy got all scared in her face.

“Lord, girl, I said I was teaching you to cook — I ain’t gonna cook you.”

“I’m too stupid to learn cooking.”

I rubbed my nose a minute so I could think. I put my face on up into Biddy’s. “If I ain’t dirty, you ain’t stupid.”

I watched Biddy whilst she pondered. She chew her lip, tilt her head, and then bust out with one of her Biddy smiles. “I know what you saying, but I still cain’t read.”

I dust my hands against each other and push the sleeves of my robe up. “Don’t got to. I’m gonna take care of that.”

Biddy start to say something, but I kept talking. “Whilst I get out this robe, you go down to the garden. It’s the last of vegetables, so we gonna use ’em for somethin’ extra fine. Get us a big ole eggplant, and tomatoes, and a couple of them squashes.”

Biddy went off happy to be doing something besides watching me mope.

I change into some clothes and come back out to see Biddy near about to wring her hand plumb off her wrists. There was no vegetables nowheres and Biddy looked ghostie white. All I could think was she done seen Robert out that door.

BOOK: Girls Like Us
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