Good Heavens (23 page)

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Authors: Margaret A. Graham

BOOK: Good Heavens
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“Now, Angela . . .”

Linda wouldn't let up. “Miss E., you went after Dora, didn't you?”

Wilma came to my rescue. “Linda, that's for her to know! It's none of our business.”

“Says you!” Linda snapped, and got up. “I gotta take a leak.”

“You can use my bathroom,” I told her.

Brenda handed my empty cup to Portia for a refill, and as she got up to go to the kitchen, I told her I took it black. Brenda went on to say, “Miss Ursula said Mr. Ringstaff called and she's invited him for Sunday dinner. Since Melba and I are doing the cooking, we'd like to come up with something special—you know, a company meal.”

“I know he would like knackwurst,” Lenora said.

“Whatever is that?” Melba asked.

Emily was sitting on the floor next my bedside table, so I motioned to her. “There's a dictionary right next to you, Emily. How about looking that up for us?”

“I don't have my glasses,” she said and handed the dictionary to Nancy. Emily never seemed to have her glasses, especially during Praise and Prayer. I figured that was an excuse to get out of being involved. “Emily, did you read the Gospel of John and underline
believe
as I asked you to?”

“I couldn't; my glasses are broken.”

This was getting to be a habit. Now she was telling me they were broken, and she hadn't even started to read John. I would have to do something about this.

Nancy was having trouble finding the word. “Does that start with a k?”

Well
, I thought,
maybe Emily don't have the money to get them fixed
. Until I knew better, I would give her the benefit of the doubt. Of course, most of those women never seemed to lack money for cigarettes. At the price they had to pay for them, they could max out a credit card real quick.

Be that as it may, if Emily was going to get the help she needed, she would have to get those glasses fixed and read the Bible. Emily's roommate, Nancy, would know if money was the problem. If it was, I would take care of that. I'd give money to Nancy. I could trust her not to let Emily know where it came from, and in that way Emily wouldn't be embarrassed. Besides, I didn't want word to get around that I was a soft touch. A con like Linda would sure take advantage of that.

Nancy finally found
knackwurst
in the dictionary and read the definition aloud: “Knackwurst: a short, thick, highly seasoned sausage.”

“Scratch that,” Brenda said. “The only sausage we've got is Vienna. We'll make ham or something. I wish we had some green tomatoes. Fried green tomatoes is my Alabama specialty. What's your specialty, Miss E.?”

“Well, people seem to like my fried apple pies. That's what I always take to church suppers.”

Portia came back with the coffee. My bottomless pit was right beside my chair so I fished around for my wallet and as a joke came up with a nickel tip for Portia. I kidded her, “Don't spend it all in one place.” That poor girl didn't know what to make of it. She just thanked me and held that nickel in her palm like a little child.

I blew on the hot coffee. “Girls, as soon as I finish this second cup, I'm going to hit the hay.”

“That's a hint,” Angela said, and they all started getting up to leave. “By the way, are we going to the Valley Church Sunday?”

“No, we'll be going into town.” That brought on a big groan. I laughed. “Well, who knows, in town I might find myself another husband.”

“But you've had the best—what more do you want?” somebody said, and they all laughed.

As they were leaving, I asked Nancy to wait a minute. After the others were all gone, I closed the door. “Nancy, can you tell me, is Emily short of money?”

“Well, yes, Miss E., she is short. In fact, she doesn't have a dime.”

I reached for my wallet again. “Can you keep a secret?” I asked as I counted out a few bills. “Here, I want you to see that she gets her glasses fixed, only promise me you won't let her know where this comes from.”

Nancy didn't take the money, just quietly shook her head.

“Oh, come on now. I can well afford this.”

Nancy shook her head again.

Poking the bills at her, I asked, “You mean this isn't enough to cover it?”

“Miss E., her glasses aren't broken.”

“No? Then what—”

I was about to spout off about Emily's excuses when Nancy told me, “Emily can't read.”

“What? You mean . . . ?”

“Yes, it's true. Emily can't read.”

“Oh . . . oh, I see. Well, didn't she go to school?”

“She went to school all right, but she never learned to read. They kept her back a couple of grades, then just passed her on.”

“How did you find out?”

“One night I heard Emily crying in her pillow, and I wouldn't give up until she told me the whole story. It's her vision. Emily was in high school before they finally sent her to a specialist to have her eyes tested. The doctor discovered that she sees only the top half of letters. I guess it was too late to do anything about it, or maybe it can't be corrected. Anyway, that's when she dropped out of school.”

“Oh my.”

“It's been hard for her here since the program involves reading. And she's so afraid somebody will find out about it she's been thinking about leaving.”

“We don't want that.”

“Miss E., she seems better now that you're here. You've made this a happier place.”

I never could handle compliments, so I changed the subject. “Nancy, tell me, is Emily really a professional ice skater?”

“Yes, she is, Miss E., and a good one. She showed me her scrapbook where she's won a lot of competitions. She spent two years with an ice show that traveled the country. They had to let her go. She's a heroin addict. She's tried to get off it—been in treatment three times before—but nothing has had any lasting effects. Her insurance only paid for thirty days of treatment a year, and the policy had a three-year limit. After three years,
her drug treatment option was canceled. She was lucky to find Priscilla Home, because it's about the only place for women that doesn't charge.”

“Do you think she's being helped here?”

“It's hard to tell. There isn't much Miss Ursula tells her that she hasn't heard before. Emily's so nervous in Praise and Prayer I don't think she gets much out of it.”

I thanked Nancy for telling me and followed her to the door. “I'll keep this to myself, Nancy, and if you can think of any way we can help this girl, please let me know.” I pressed a five-dollar bill in her hand. “I'm sure Emily can use this.”

I went into the bathroom to doctor my scratches, feeling sad about Emily.
How hard, how embarrassing it must be not to be able to read
. I doctored several places and applied a few band plasters. Brushing my teeth, I prayed I would find some way of helping that poor girl. After gargling the last of the mouthwash and tossing the bottle in the wastebasket, I rubbed on some liniment, slipped my gown over my head, and went back in my room.

Still thinking about Emily, I ran the brush through my hair, set the alarm, and decided I'd have to sleep on it.

By the time my head hit the pillow, I was asleep.

Saturday morning, I was so wore out, I didn't hear the alarm and slept through breakfast. When I realized what time it was, I threw on my clothes, grabbed my Bible, and dashed downstairs for Praise and Prayer. The girls were
all in the day room waiting for me. Emily and Nancy were sitting beside each other on the couch, sharing a Bible. I wished I had not told the girls they were to study the Gospel of John independently, because now, if Nancy could study with Emily, it would solve the problem.

Then I got a bright idea: Why not have all of them pair off and allow two women to study John together? Nancy and Emily would be partners then, and it wouldn't matter how the others paired off.

Well, it didn't work out quite like I hoped. “Girls,” I said, “what would you think of choosing partners and studying the Gospel of John together?” They liked the idea, but before I could pair them off, Martha said, “Just count off by twos and let one side choose a partner from the other side.”

So we did it that way, only Nancy and Emily were both “twos.” Nancy chose Lenora and Emily chose Portia. At first I wondered why Emily chose Portia, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized why. If Portia found out Emily's secret, she was one person who would never let on she knew, not even to Emily if she could help it.

After Praise and Prayer, I left my Bible on the couch and went upstairs to the kitchen to help Brenda and Melba plan the menu for Sunday. Once we got that settled, they told me they had a surprise for us—they were going to set us all up to a shampoo and set that afternoon. I was tickled pink to hear that and went back down to the day room to pass the word.

Most of the girls had scattered, but Portia was still sitting on the couch and had my Bible on her lap, paging through it. I figured she had taken a fancy to all those
little mementos tucked inside. Well, I didn't mind if she read them. There was some good stuff in there.

That afternoon, Lenora let Melba cut and style her hair, which made her look 100 percent better. Maybe with a new hairdo she would take more interest in her appearance. With a little effort and a few more pounds, Lenora could be a nice-looking woman.

The service in town was good. The people were friendly, and the girls seemed to enjoy it, so we were in a good mood coming home. Brenda and Melba had got up at the crack of dawn to get the dinner ready, so all we had to do was put the meal on the table as soon as Mr. Ringstaff arrived.

When we pulled in at Priscilla Home, his car was already there.

15

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