Whistling Past the Graveyard (18 page)

19

M
y breath stuck and my heart jumped. I gripped the rock tighter in case I could use it and got ready to kick and scratch my way free of the Jenkins boys.

I spun around.
“Starla!”
My foot stopped just before it hit Miss Cyrena’s shin. My breath

finally came loose.
“What’s gotten into you?” Miss Cyrena’s voice was low and hissy,
not much more than a whisper.
“It’s the Jenkins boys’ truck. They deserve to get some of their own
meanness back.”
“Two wrongs do not make a right.”
Hadn’t I heard that a million times? I jerked my arm free. “Well, it’s
three,” I said real sassy. I wanted to smash the other headlight, one for
Eula and one for that dog. But I didn’t.
“Let’s go,” I said. All my good memories about the carnival were
ruined now. Ruined by Troy. Ruined by those laughing people. Ruined
more by the stupid Jenkins brothers.
I threw down the rock and stomped away. “I ain’t sorry I did it.” “Now, young lady—”
“Red!”
I stopped and looked over my shoulder. That doggone Troy started
to run toward us.
“You okay?” he called. “That nigra botherin’ you?”
“I’m fine. Go away!”
Troy was getting closer.
I took off, not worried ’bout Miss Cyrena keeping up. She made a
sound like Mamie makes when she’s exaserbated with me, but I kept
going. I zigged and zagged between cars, trying to lose Troy. I heard
Miss Cyrena huffing along behind.
All of the sudden, there was a shout. “Hey! You little pissant! You
busted my headlight!”
“No, I didn’t!” It was Troy’s voice.
I started to run and heard Miss Cyrena’s steps get going faster. I hoped them Jenkins boys believed Troy . . . or maybe I hoped they
didn’t. It was his fault I went on that ride. And he’d laughed at me. Then my conscience got on me and I stopped. I couldn’t let them
beat Troy up for something I did.
When I turned around, Miss Cyrena was right there, breathing hard. “I gotta go back,” I said.
“You can’t go alone. And I can’t go with you.” It was the first time I’d
heard Miss Cyrena sound like she didn’t know what to do. “I have to tell ’em Troy didn’t break their stupid headlight. I’ll say I
saw somebody else do it.” Kinda true. “You wait here.”
“I don’t think—”
“Just stay hid. We don’t want them boys to know we’re together and
maybe find Eula.”
“They might recognize you from town.”
“So what? Far as they know, I’m just some kid worried ’bout a dog.
You said yourself, they didn’t pay no attention to you bein’ there. I’ll be
right back.” I walked off, listening for her following.
She didn’t. (Thank you, baby Jesus.)
When I got back to the truck, one of the Jenkins boys—who wasn’t
a boy at all, but a man with a beard and everything—had Troy by the
neck of his shirt.The man had dark hair and was near as big as Wallace.
Next to him was the brother who’d hit the dog. They didn’t look like
brothers at all ’cause the dog-hitter was skinny had light hair that was
almost girl-long.
“Stop!” I yelled. “He didn’t do it.”
The big brother looked my way. “You know this kid?” Now I saw the
third brother step out from the other side of him.This one wasn’t much
bigger than an eighth grader and looked too young for a beard at all. I shook my head. If they thought I was Troy’s friend—which I
wasn’t—they’d figure I was just trying to get him out of trouble. “Ain’t
from around here. I saw someone else break it. Went that way.” I pointed back toward the carnival.
All three of them Jenkinses looked off that way. I did, too. That’s
when I saw that danged deputy heading toward us.
“What’s the trouble here?” he asked, shining a flashlight on the
brother holding Troy. “Let loose of that boy, Jobie.”
The man let Troy go, but in a rough way that made him stumble
backward. I could tell them boys were every bit as bad as Miss Cyrena
had said. “Someone busted our headlight.”
The deputy put his light on the truck.“So I see.”He moved the light
to Troy’s face. “You do this, son?”
“No, sir. I was just goin’ by.” He looked at me and for a second I was
afraid he was gonna tell them I did it, but I don’t think he’d been close
enough to see.
The light moved on to me. I couldn’t see nothing but its brightness. “And you?” the deputy asked.
The light-haired brother who’d give me the finger pointed at me.
“I bet she done it. I seen her in town yesterday. She—” He stopped
talking, realizin’ probably he’d have to admit he run over the dog if he
kept on.
“No, sir, I didn’t,” I said. “I seen someone run off that way, though.”
Then to make a good lie I added, “A kid . . . with dark hair and a white
T-shirt.”
“How old?” the deputy asked.
I shrugged. “Didn’t see him from the front, or close at all. He was
kinda tall and skinny.” Seen plenty of them at the carnival. He put the light back on Troy. “You see him?”
Troy shook his head, his eyes still big ’cause the scared hadn’t left
him yet. “No, sir.”
The deputy finally pointed the flashlight down so it didn’t shine in
anybody’s eyes. “I’ll keep an eye out,” he said to the Jenkins boys. “You
fellas can get on your way.”
“But who’s gonna pay for this busted light?” It wasn’t the Jenkins
who’d had ahold of Troy, it was the young one. Even little as he was, he
looked the meanest of ’em all.
The deputy’s light shot back up and shined in the young brother’s
face. “Now, Jesse, you and I both know a headlight is cheap, and you
and your brothers have gotten by with a whole lot worse, so count
yourself ahead and go on home. I don’t want to see you back at that
carnival lookin’ for someone to hold accountable. That’s my job.” For a minute everybody just stood there, looking at each other. The deputy put a hand on Troy and turned him around. “You go on
back to your evenin’, son.”
Troy took off so fast, he was gone before I could blink. I knew I
should take off, too, but my eyes were stuck on them Jenkins boys.
Were they bad enough to sass a deputy? Or worse?
“Get on now,” the deputy said.
The brother who’d had ahold of Troy spit on the ground, then
opened the driver’s door and got in. The dog-hitter went around and
opened the passenger side. “C’mon, Jesse.”
Jesse took a step toward the deputy and I held my breath. He got his
chest all puffed out and said, “Only ’cause we was leavin’ anyhow.” He
turned around and spit on the ground, too—I’m pretty sure just ’cause
the older brother did—then got in the truck and slid to the middle. The truck started up before the last brother got in.
The deputy put a hand on my shoulder and made me step back. It
was a good thing, too, ’cause those boys tore out of there so fast I bet
they’d have run over my toes.
The deputy stared after the truck, mumbling something I couldn’t
understand.
I decided it was time for me to make like a banana and split. I start
ed to move, but his hand tightened on my shoulder. “Hold up, there.” “Yes, sir?” I said, sweet as pie, but my heart started thudding and I
could feel sweat start.
“You said you’re not from here?”
“No, sir. I mean, yes, sir, that’s what I said.”
He put that flashlight on my face again. He seemed to be looking
particular hard at my hair. “What’s your name?”
My mind went blank as the chalkboard on Monday morning. I
couldn’t come up with a single name.
“You got a name, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir. Nancy.”
“Nancy what?”
“Nancy Drew, sir.” Ohm’gosh, he’ll never believe that. “But people
call me Red,” I added just in case he’d heard Troy hollerin’ after me. “Hmm.” He got that look like the jig was up but he wasn’t letting
on. “Where you from, Nancy Drew?”
“Out in the country; next county over.” My brain was finally working again. Best keep things as general as I could.
“Where’s your folks?”
“Visitin’. They’re supposed to pick me up out on the street at nine
o’clock, so I better go.”
He looked at his watch. “I’ll walk you.”
“No need, sir.” I tried to back away, but he didn’t let go. “Oh, I think there just might be. I want to meet your folks. You see,
we got a report of a runaway girl . . . redhead ’bout your age. I wouldn’t
be doin’ my duty if I didn’t check you out.”
“They might be late. They ain’t very reliable to be on time.” “I’ll wait.”
“Suit yourself.” I started walking toward the street with his hand on
my shoulder. I glanced around, hoping Miss Cyrena stayed out of sight
until I figured a way out of this. But here she come, from a couple of
rows of cars over.
I had to do something.
We was coming up on a sawhorse barricade. Some people walked
on the other side of it.
“Oh, no!” I yelled, and pointed. “He’s stealing that lady’s purse!” Just as soon as the deputy looked that way, I shoved him as hard as
I could with my shoulder. His feet got tangled in the legs of the barricade. I took off in the other direction, not even looking to see if he
went all the way down.
There was lots of shouting. I cut through parked cars, ducking low
so nobody could see me. Finally I got to the bushes that were at the
edge of the fairgrounds and hid in there. I hoped Miss Cyrena got the
point and went to wait for me at the car.
I was crouched down, fanning away skeeters, when I heard something. “Psssst. Red? Red, you there somewhere?” Troy was whispering.
I could tell he was moving closer.
I held still and tried to see him through the leaves.
He called again. He was on the street side. I peeked out and saw
him just past me. He was on a Sting-Ray bicycle.
“Red,” he whispered. “Where are you?”
I didn’t say anything and he got a little farther away, but he was
moving real slow.
“C’mon out. I owe you one. I’ll ride you outta here.”
I sure could get back to Miss Cyrena’s car faster on his bicycle. I
could hide near there and wait for her to show up.
I stuck my head out. “Here,” I whispered.
He swung his bike back around and stopped right in front of me.
“Get on.”
I took a look up and down the street. Nobody seemed to be looking
our way. I heard plenty of commotion, but it was still back across the
parking area. I had to hurry.
I got out of the bushes and onto the banana seat behind him and
held on to the bar on the back.
“Which way?”
I told him and picked up my feet. “And fast!”
He stood up and pedaled. We was flyin’ away from the fairgrounds. Once we got to a dark place, he slowed down a little. “I never seen a girl do nasty to the Jenkins brothers before. Or knock over a policeman.
Why’d you do it?” He was a little out of breath, but he kept pedaling. “None of your beeswax.”
“Oh, yeah? I’ll just take you back then.”
He started to make a U-turn. “No!”
“Then tell me.” He swerved back around.
I figured we were only a block or so from Miss Cyrena’s car. If he
gave me trouble, I could just push him and his bike over and take off.
But that seemed wrong, considering him saving me and all. “He thinks I’m a runaway girl.”
“Are you?”
“No.”
“Then why’d you shove him? You coulda just had your parents tell
him.”
“I live with my grandma.”
“So?”
“I wasn’t supposed to be at the carnival.”
He put on the brakes and skidded to a stop. “You are a runaway
girl!”
I didn’t say anything. He’d been nice to me . . . mostly. I didn’t like
telling him lies.
“Man! I knew you were brave! I never met a runaway before. Why’d
you run? Your grandma beat you? Where you goin’? How you gonna
live? Ain’t you scared? How come—”
“I can’t answer all them questions.”
“Why not?”
“That’s part of bein’ a runaway . . . secrets.” He thought it was neat
to be a runaway, so he oughta respect the rules.
“Oh, right. Where am I takin’ you then?”
We was away from traffic and the lights of the fair, on a street with
just a few big houses with big yards. Miss Cyrena’s car was parked less
than a block away; I recognized the house with the curlicues all over
the front porch and the pointy-roofed room at the corner like a castle. “I reckon here’s just fine.” I got off and walked over to the sidewalk.
“Thanks.”
I heard shoes clicking this way. I spun around and saw Miss Cyrena
coming so fast that I didn’t think she even noticed Troy.
“Starla! Dear Lord, what have you done?” She used that mad-hissy
whisper. “Get to the ca—” All at once, she stopped talking and moving.
Guess she saw Troy.
“It’s okay. He helped me get away.”
“Oh, child. Nothing is okay. Not now.”
The awful sound in her voice made my stomach flip worse than it
did when I was on the Bullet.

20

w

e was sitting at Miss Cyrena’s kitchen table, the room lit only by the little light on the stove while the rest of the house stayed creepy dark. That made me the most worried, Miss Cyrena keeping the house dark like we were hiding.

Eula and me had just spent the last half hour telling Miss Cyrena the truth, at least the truth about Eula. Even the parts about her finding baby James on the church step and doin’ Wallace in. Eula told me we owed Miss Cyrena being honest. Well, Miss Cyrena thought I was good and helpful. I didn’t want her to be disappointed in me by finding out I was running to keep from going to reform school. So I kept to my story: my poor grandma died and we were broke, so I was hitchhiking to Nashville to my momma when Eula found me. Eula didn’t know better so she couldn’t say different.

From then on, I did most of the telling, especially the parts in the swamp and what come after. Eula spent most of that time holding her belly and rocking herself back and forth. She kept sendin’ looks at the stove, like she was wanting to get up and start baking.

“Oh, dear Lord.” Miss Cyrena had been saying that a whole lot. “Well. My. I thought something like this might be at the heart of matters. I know an abused woman when I see one. But had no idea it was this extreme.”

Eula looked down at her lap, ashamed. But the shame was on Wallace, not her. Didn’t she see that?
I got up and stood behind her. I put my hands on her skinny shoulders and said, “He needed killin’ for sure, otherwise I’d be dead. Prob’ly baby James, too.”
Miss Cyrena seemed worked up some, but not about Wallace getting killed by a skillet. “I’ve seen plenty of men like Wallace. They’re just biding their time here on this earth until the devil comes to collect them. It was his time and he’d earned it.”
Eula got stiff. “He weren’t always that way. I was no more than dirt till I was with him. He protect me.”
“I’ll bet he made sure you never forgot it either,” Miss Cyrena said, kinda snippy. When Eula flinched, Miss Cyrena reached over and touched her arm. “I know you didn’t see the violence and need for control in him in the beginning, but I’m sure it was there. Nothing you did turned him into such an abusive man. And you . . . well, you just didn’t see your own value before that. It’s an easy thing for a woman to overlook. We’re taught from the cradle that men rule.”
“No.” Eula was shaking her head. “No. I was nothin’. And I’d been bad. But I paid. Paid and paid before Wallace save me.”
Miss Cyrena looked at me with an eyebrow raised.
I shrugged and shook my head.
“Who made you pay?” Miss Cyrena asked real quiet. “Who did Wallace save you from?”
I could see it in Miss Cyrena’s eyes; she wanted someone to get paid back for hurting Eula, for making her feel like a throwaway. I did, too. It was like when Jimmy Sellers picked on Prissy Pants, but lots stronger. And there in that kitchen, there wasn’t anyone to go after, no matter how bad my red rage got. So I waited with Miss Cyrena, neither of us hardly breathing.The truth was about to bubble out and we didn’t want to scare it back inside.
For a second, I thought Eula was gonna tell us. Then she shook her head real slow and lowered it. I felt the shame creepin’ back on her, thick as tar.
Miss Cyrena got up, walked around the table, and got on her knees in front of Eula.
“Tell us, Eula,” Miss Cyrena said, holding Eula’s hands. “We know you’re a good person . . . a caring person. The way you’ve put yourself at risk for these children is testament to that. We’re all victims of our lives. Things happen that can ruin us if we hold them in. Tell us. You need to let it out so you can be strong again.”
Eula sucked in a big breath. Her shoulders kinda shook as she let it out. “I weren’t never strong.”
“Look at me, Eula,” Miss Cyrena said.
It took a minute, but Eula looked up.
“No one could have done the things you’ve done to protect Starla and James if she wasn’t strong. You’re strong, so strong.”
Something changed on Eula’s face. “You think so?”
I hugged Eula tight from behind. “Yes! You’re strong.” I’d seen her weak, so weak that most people wouldn’t come back from it. But Eula always came back. That was strong. My daddy always said being brave wasn’t not being scared. Being brave was keeping going when you were. Somehow, Eula always found a way to get on.
Miss Cyrena said, “Now gather that strength and throw away that secret you’ve been carrying. You’re not alone. Not anymore. Nothing you say is going to change all Starla and I know you to be.”
Eula sighed, sounding tired and brokenhearted. After a bit she said, “Pap and my brother knowed the wrong I done. Not a day went by without them punishin’ me—even after I’d already suffered the worst punishment. But Wallace, he saved me from them. For a while I thought I was free.” She looked down at her hands, rubbing one another in her lap. “’Cept God wasn’t done with me.”
“Go on,” Miss Cyrena said.
Eula sniffed and turned her head to look at the wall. “It don’t matter now.”
I thought about all of the things Eula had told me, and all of the sudden I had an idea. “Was it about a baby?”
She stood up so fast the chair leg scooted over my toes.
Miss Cyrena rocked back and sat on her heels, startled.
“How you know?” Eula’s eyes held me like she’d caught me stealing.
“All your troubles been ’cause of babies.” I threw my hands up. “Babies. Babies. Babies. Takin’ baby James from that church step. Gettin’ fired”—she hadn’t used the word, but it was pretty clear to me—“’cause you loved the white babies too much. God taking all your babies before they was born.”
“Not all,” she said, as she sat down hard in the chair. “God didn’t take ’em all. That’s why He punishin’ me, I didn’t protect him.” “Protect who from wh—?”
Miss Cyrena shushed me.
I almost sassed her; I took care of Eula, and Eula took care of me. That’s the way it worked. Miss Cyrena was just Miss Cyrena. But if I got in a fight with her now, I’d never know about Eula’s baby. “Charles done took my baby boy . . .” She started crying real hard. “Charles?” Miss Cyrena asked.
“My brother.” It came out
bruuuuuuther
’cause she was crying so hard.
“Your no-account brother took you and Wallace’s baby?” My palms itched my hands up into fists. Wallace didn’t deserve a baby for sure, but Eula did.
Eula busted out crying harder.
Miss Cyrena said, “Go get a tissue.”
“You go,” I said. “I’ll stay here.”
Miss Cyrena shot me a teacher look so sharp that I ran fast as I could to the bathroom and back just to get it done and get on with Eula’s throwing away her secret.
I handed Eula a Kleenex. She cried solid for a few minutes. It was real pitiful, but I didn’t know what to do. Miss Cyrena just patted Eula’s knee every now and then. I put my hands back on her shoulders and patted her, too.
After a bit, all that patting got her calmed down.
“Sorry.” She blew her nose. “It been a long time since I let myself think ’bout him.”
“Who?” I’d lost track. “Wallace, Charles, or the baby?” Miss Cyrena moved her lips but didn’t say out loud, The baby. Then she asked Eula, “Do you want to talk about him now?”
“I ain’t never told no one. Not even Wallace.”
“How could Wallace not—”
“Shhh, let her talk,” Miss Cyrena said. “Just let her talk.”
I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around Eula. My hands locked together over her heart, and I rested my cheek on her head. Her hair was coming loose from where she kept it pulled back. It was springy and a little rough under my cheek. I liked the different feel of it.
“That baby come from bein’ a fool and lovin’ a boy from the family my momma work for,” Eula said.
Miss Cyrena frowned and her eyes got strict.
Eula held up a hand. “I know what you thinkin’, Miss Cyrena, I know. But I was jus’ fourteen, and so in love. He so kind and handsome, jus’ sixteen hisself.Treat me like a person.” Eula looked at Miss Cyrena. “You know what I mean . . . a person . . . not just a colored girl.”
Miss Cyrena’s eyes got rid of their strict and just looked sad as she nodded.
“Didn’t everybody get mad at you and him?” I’d never seen a white and a colored get married. Eula didn’t say that right out, but he was her baby’s daddy. I can add two and two.
“Nobody know. Everything stay a secret. Even the boy didn’t know ’bout the baby. My momma died unexpected and I couldn’t go to his house anymore.” She sighed like she was real tired. “One day I finally work up the courage to go see him, but his momma say he gone to a fancy military school somewhere, might never be back. The way she looked at me, I could tell she knew somethin’, but she just closed the door and I never see her again. So there I be.” Eula’s hands dropped to her lap, limp as dead fish.
“You poor child,” Miss Cyrena said. She grabbed both of Eula’s hands and held tight. I just hung on, pressing my cheek against the side of her head and resting my chin on her shoulder.
“You managed to keep the pregnancy hidden?” Miss Cyrena asked.
Eula nodded. “Pap and Charles didn’t pay much attention to me once Momma gone, long as I kept dinner on the table and their clothes washed. Didn’t get real big; loose clothes kept my secret fine. When he born, Pap was off somewhere. But I heard Charles come home. I wadded up a towel and stuffed it in my mouth to stay quiet, but I couldn’t keep the baby from cryin’. Charles come in, see him, and go crazy. Not jus’ because I had a baby, but because that baby so white. He cuss and stomp, and I tell him that ain’t gonna change the baby’s color, so he jus’ gonna have to get used to it. He said Pap was gonna beat me. I told him I’d take my beatin’ from Pap since I knowed I done wrong, but he’d better go away, leave me alone. He left, slammin’ and cussin’ the whole time. Baby and I fell asleep.
“Next thing I know, I was yanked out of bed by my hair. Once Pap done with me, I crawled back into bed, bloody and bruised, fed the baby, and cried myself back to sleep. Then, when I wake up . . .”
She shook her head and got up, leaving me and Miss Cyrena with empty hands and tears on our cheeks.
Eula walked to the back door and looked out to the dark night, wrapping her arms around herself like she was cold, even though it was still daytime hot in the kitchen. For a minute, I stood there like my feet were nailed to the floor. Then I walked over to her, slid my arms around her waist, and hugged her tight. “It’s the same as with Wallace, the shame is on Charles, not you.”
She didn’t turn, but her hands closed over my arms at her waist.
I heard Miss Cyrena move behind me. I wanted to tell her to stay away, but all I could do was feel the quietness of Eula’s crying and the pain of missing her baby. The chair creaked and it stayed just Eula and me, like it was supposed to be.
Charles took her baby. Maybe he left it on a church step. Maybe that’s the real reason Eula picked up baby James.
After a bit, Eula got straighter and breathed deep. She kept still, but started talking again. “Charles said he give the baby to a family movin’ up North, where a mixed baby had a chance. But Charles was too mean to ever do anythin’ that kind. I’d seen the hate in his eyes when he looked at my child.” She stopped.
I was just about to ask what she thought Charles really did with him, sure she would tell me he’d left him at a church. But she spoke before I could ask. Her voice was slow and stuttery. “Ch-Charles was m-mean to the bone. Once he d-drown a wh-whole bag of p-p-puppies . . .” All of the sudden her body jerked and kept twitching with sob after sob.
I heard Miss Cyrena blubber a little, too.
“No!” I said. “He couldn’t have hurt a baby, no matter how no-account he was. He couldn’t!” I held Eula tighter. “Your baby is a boy up North, growin’ up fine. He’s happy with a family. He has to be.”
She shook with a breath and squeezed my arms. “Every day I pray that’s so. Every day.”
We was all quiet for a minute.
“Charles and Pap got a whole lot meaner after that. Till Wallace stop them.”
I wanted to ask what Wallace did to stop them. I wanted to ask, since the baby was white, why didn’t Charles give him to the baby’s daddy—or his daddy’s momma, like I lived with Mamie. I wanted to ask what else her pap and Charles had done to her. But when I opened my mouth, Miss Cyrena stood up right fast and pulled me away. Her cheeks were shiny wet.
“Do not ask her anything more.” Miss Cyrena’s fingers dug into my arms. “Not a single question, do you understand me?”
I leaned my head closer to her and whispered real quiet, “But you said she needed to get it out so she could be better.”
“And she has. If she needs to tell more, she will. This has been very, very hard for her. She’ll need time now. Lots of time and lots of love.”
I looked at Eula. Her head was bent as she blew her nose, but something about her was different already. She looked a little less folded in on herself.
Miss Cyrena took my chin and made me look at her. “Time and love. Nothing more.”
I nodded.
Miss Cyrena made us all cups of tea. For a while we just sat at the table in the almost dark, not saying a word, drinking hot tea that just made us sweat. But it gave us something to keep busy with while we let Eula soak up our love.
I wanted to say something to make her feel better, but I didn’t know what words could have that much magic. I just sat there brushing my feet back and forth on the floor, waiting for something . . . waiting . . . I don’t know for what.
Miss Cyrena was finally the first one to talk. “More tea?”
Me and Eula both shook our heads.
Then there was more waiting. I put my elbow on the table to prop up my head on my hand. Miss Cyrena didn’t even scold me about manners.
My eyes was sleepy, but I was too jittery inside to go to sleep. It felt like the whole night went by, but when I looked at the clock, it was only ten after eleven.
“All right, then.” Miss Cyrena sat up straighter and got on her teacher voice. “We’re going to have to deal with the issue at hand. With the police knowing Starla’s in town and that boy seeing her leave with me, it won’t take them long to start looking in the Bottoms. They know me and my involvements, they’ll start here first.”
“But Troy pinkie-swore not to tell,” I said.
“We don’t know that boy, so we don’t know he’ll keep his word,” Miss Cyrena said. “Besides, if the Jenkins boys find out he knows, they aren’t above beating it out of him. Plus, we don’t know for certain that none of them saw you and me in town together yesterday. They might just put it all together. . . .” She was back to her knowin’-what-to-do self. And truth be told, it made me feel a whole lot better. I thought of her after I’d chased that truck and it finally come to me how scared she was. Scared for me. Scared for Eula. And maybe even scared for herself.
Eula nodded. “True.” She stood up. “Me and the children’ll get our things and go now. You been too kind for us to stay and bring trouble.”
Miss Cyrena looked startled. “Trouble and I are well acquainted, so don’t worry on that account.”
“He’ll stay quiet,” I said. “I know he will. He helped me get away. ’Sides, we ain’t got enough to fix the truck and buy gas yet.”Turned out Polsgrove’s Garage might not steal you blind, but they charged plenty to tow and fix Eula’s truck.
As much as I wanted to get to Momma, I liked our baking business and sleeping on Miss Cyrena’s couch. Anyway, it made sense to take longer to get to Nashville, just in case the police were looking for me up there, too. If it took us long enough to get to Momma’s, they’d get tired out and forget about me. And the longer we were away from Wallace, the more likely people would believe someone else done killed him after we left. It was smart to stay hid out. “We can stay here and do baking for a few more days—until we can get the truck fixed.”
Miss Cyrena looked at me so serious that my skin got all prickly. I knew things weren’t going back to the way they were.
“We must deal with the reality of the situation, not hang on to what we hope will or will not happen. The stakes are too high. But you’re not leaving here until we have everything figured out . . . a plan to keep you all safe. It has to be tonight. The law will not look favorably on me housing a white runaway—”