Last Night at the Blue Angel (12 page)

Have a seat
, he said.

I sat.

He breathed through his nose and stared. I squeezed my hands between my knees.

He took a deep breath and looked around the kitchen.
I hold the notes to this whole operation
, he said.
I own the dirt they're farming. Of course
,
you already know that
.

Yes
,
sir
. The sound of my voice made him flinch.

It would take me but a few days to destroy it. Repossess. Auction. It would be real sad
.

I nodded.

You know what happens to the kids? In situations like that?
he asked.

No
,
sir
.

Oh
,
they get separated and stuck in orphanages or put with other families
.

My stomach squeezed into a small hard knot.

He set the envelope in front of me, pried it open like a mouth to reveal a small stack of bills, closed it. Then he leaned forward.
Now, what I want is for you to disappear. You will never come back. You will never
,
ever come near my daughter again
,
you sick little cunt
.

He stood, straightened his coat, and walked to the door.
What are you waiting for?
he said before he left.

Mama heard the door shut and peeked in. Seeing he'd gone, she rushed to the window and watched him walk to his car.

Did you offer him anything to drink?

I watched her mouth move.

Well?

He was in a hurry
, I tried to say, but ran out of air.

Well, what did he want?

To give me my paycheck
. I lifted the envelope in the air, my hand shaking.

Seems that could've waited till Monday
, Mama said, pushing the chair Mr. Miller sat in back against the table.
What will you do with a paycheck between now and Monday?

I stood.
Sit down
,
Ma. Let me make you some tea
.

No
, she said.
But thank you
. She wiped down the table again. I kissed her and told her good night.

She looked at me and moved a curl from where it hung in front of my eye. She never touched me.
Naomi
, she said.

I let myself feel her. The sound of my name in her voice, my longing for her, to be loved by her, adored, touched. Anything.

Your song
, she said.
At the table tonight. It was
. . .

She twisted the rag in her hands. Night had blackened the windows. The kitchen clock clacked on the wall.

You go to bed now
was all she could say.

I packed the lavender dress in my book satchel and stood for a moment in the room, listening to my siblings sleep. Murielle watched me as though this was not news, my leaving.

I'm sorry
, I said.

She rolled over.
It's not fair
, she said into her pillow.
It's never been fair
.

T
he fields—high, black—seemed to breathe as I ran past them. I stumbled on rocks in the road. The wind started quietly in the distance and built up speed until I thought it would knock me over. I kept thinking I'd made a wrong turn and was lost. Nothing looked the same. I began to feel like I'd run forever.

When I finally saw the dim light outside the schoolhouse, I didn't believe my eyes, so I ran faster and fell, skinning my knee. The sting of it in the night air made me feel stronger. The truck was parked out front and Sister Idalia was rushing in and out of her room. I tried to catch my breath.

Naomi? What on earth
, she said when she saw me.

Sister
,
I—

I can't talk now
.

What are you doing?
I asked.

She bent to lift the stereo.
Help me
.

I picked up the other end and we shuffled it into the truck bed. The moon was dim and I couldn't read her face.

What happened?
I asked.

Mrs. Miller
.
Father Eugene
. She stuffed her work clothes into a duffel bag.
I don't have to tell you
,
do I? Are you okay?

You're going home?

Yes
.

Are you in trouble?

She threw her bag into the truck.

I'm so sorry
, I told her.

She put her stove in the truck, her bedroll, her blanket.
We are probably going to be in trouble much of the time. Women like us. For one reason or another
.

I'm scared
.

What do you intend to do?
she asked, looking at my bag.

I've never been away from here
.

She looked at me.
Then get in
.

PART THREE

Come Rain or Come Shine

Sophia

CHAPTER 15

CHICAGO, 1965

J
IM DROPS ME
off at school and tells me he might be late picking me up, and I am under strict orders to stay with Sister Eye until he gets there.

I eat lunch with Elizabeth. The boys continue to say things to me and now to her, though their comments to her feel more frightening. Maybe it's because I'm used to them being mean to me. Sister says to the boys after recess,
I would like to spend some time with you gentlemen after school
. They make faces and kick at the ground but she just smiles and walks away.

I linger around Sister Eye after school. The boys sit at their desks with their hands crossed, quiet.

Sister Eye whispers to me,
Peanut
,
please wait in the hall
.

I wait outside the door.

I hear a big noise—something slamming against a desk. Then I hear a familiar noise, a sharp sliding sound I can almost place.

Do you see this?
says Sister, her voice angrier than I've ever heard it.

Do you?
she says.

Yes
,
sir
, the boys say together.

If you so much as look at Elizabeth again
,
or say a word to her
,
one single word that is not pure sweetness and light, I will cut your hands off
. Then the sliding noise again. It's the giant paper cutter. I almost start to laugh when I figure it out.

Do you understand
,
gentlemen?

Yes
,
sir
, the boys say, their voices shaking.

Sister raises and lowers the blade again with a slam.
Go home
. And the boys run by me. They see me but they don't even care.

Sister and I wait for Jim on the front steps. I can't stop staring at her.

Stop it
, she says finally.

I start to laugh.

What is it you find so funny?

This makes me laugh even harder.
I can't believe you did that
, I'm finally able to say.

It's my job
.

I know
, I say.
Mom told me
.

Really. And what did she say?

That you protect the innocent
, I tell her.

Sister laughs pretty loud for a minute and then she looks down at me.
Oh
,
peanut
, she says.
No one is innocent. Not even you
.

But you would still cut off the boys' hands for us?
I ask.

She tucks a curl behind my ear and smiles at me.
I'm protecting them
,
too
.

E
lizabeth and I eat lunch together all week and the boys don't come anywhere near us. On Friday she says,
My answer is yes
.

We are sitting at the craft desk in the back of the classroom. We don't play with the other kids and it's not clear to me if this is because we're not welcome or because we don't feel like it.

Yes
,
what?

Your note
, she says.
You asked me if I would be your friend
.

I'd forgotten about the note. I had assumed the answer was yes because we'd been acting like friends all week.

I showed my father the note and he said you can't just say yes or no to friendship. He said you have to see how it goes
.

A thin layer of clay is stuck to the table and I try to get it off with my thumbnail.

Do you want to come to my house tomorrow?
I ask.

Don't you live at a motel?

Well
,
yes
.
It's still my home
.

I would love to
, she says, bending over the clay and helping me scrape it. I try to match her excitement, though the cup of worry in my stomach has already begun to fill.

I'll ask my mom after school but don't say anything
, says Elizabeth.
Just let me talk to her
.

Okay
, I say, though I can't imagine what I would say to Elizabeth's mother.

After school, Elizabeth's mother is waiting for her and Jim is on his knees toward the end of the block, taking a picture of the junker truck that has been parked there as long as I can remember. I pretend I don't see him.

Just go along with me
,
okay?
says Elizabeth.

We approach her mother. I glance at Jim, who is stretching his body over the hood of the car so he can shoot the broken windshield.

Mama
, says Elizabeth,
Sophia and me have a project to work on. Geography
.

Sophia and I
, says Elizabeth's mother.

She said we could work on it at her house tomorrow
, says Elizabeth.

I nod. Elizabeth's mother squints at me.

Jim yells,
Hey
,
my girl
,
come check this out!
But I pretend I don't know him.

I've spoken to Sister every day this week. She says you're doing fine
,
more than fine
, says Elizabeth's mother.

Yes
,
but we took a pretest just this afternoon in geography and I missed half the capitals
, says Elizabeth.

Probably more than half
, I add.

Elizabeth makes a terrible face at me that lasts one second.

Jim walks up to us.
Hey
,
didn't you hear me? I want to show you something
.

Elizabeth's mother straightens her back.
And you are?
she says.

I'm Jim
, he says, extending his hand.

My dad
, I say.

He looks down at me.

Claire LaFontaine
, says Elizabeth's mother.

You must be Elizabeth
, says Jim.
I've heard a lot about you
. To me he says,
You should see this old car. I got some great shots
,
I think
. Then he turns to Mrs. LaFontaine.
I think there's something living in it. Seats all tore up
.

You don't say
, says Elizabeth's mother. She often looks like she's smelling something foul.

Can Elizabeth come study with me tomorrow?
I say.
At our house?

Don't see why not
, says Jim.
But I thought you were going to come shooting with me
.

Mrs. LaFontaine's eyebrow raises.

Photographs
, says Jim, holding up his camera.
She carts my gear. Strong as an ox, really
,
for a kid
.

I could come!
says Elizabeth.
I could help
,
too!

Let's stick to our studies for now. All right
,
ladies?
says Elizabeth's mother.
I have some business at church in the morning but my husband can bring Elizabeth by at
,
say
,
nine o'clock?
she says to Jim.

Jim's mustache twitches and he glances at me.
That'll be swell
, he says.

We all say good-bye.

Jim and I walk to his car. He puts his camera back in its bag and I open the glove box. I find a handful of root-beer barrels under the papers and empty cigarette packs. I pile them in my lap and unwrap one.

How come you said that back there?
he asks.

Said what?

I stare at my pile of root-beer barrels. I've made a sling for them with my skirt. Some coffee nips are in there, too. I have to remember to add
hard candy
to my list. Jim keeps looking over at me. I don't know how to explain myself. Suddenly I don't want candy anymore.

It was a small lie
,
anyhow. Small lies are venial sins
,
not mortal. And besides
,
you are my dad. To me you are. I don't care what you think
. I have to stop because my voice is breaking, so I cross my arms and look out the window.

Jim turns so he's facing me.
Hey, there
,
whoa
. He puts his hand on top of my head.
I'm not mad. Know what I really thought?

What?
I'm still looking out the window.

I thought
,
Wouldn't I be the luckiest guy in the world if this girl was my kid
.

I don't look at him. I don't want him to see me smile.

He puts the key in the ignition.
I forgot to show you that car back there
.

I know
.

He pulls out onto the street.

I would still like to help you tomorrow
, I say.

It'll all work out
, says Jim.

CHAPTER 16

M
OTHER IS BEATING
pillows, dusting and straightening knickknacks when we get home.

You having a party?
says Jim.

She's wearing a tan dress, her hair down, no stockings yet.
No
,
silly
.
If I were having a party
,
you'd be the first to know
. She pats his chest. He stares at her with zero feelings on his face.
We just need a good sprucing up before the winter really hits us
, she says.

Jim mouths the words
Ask her
. I follow Mother into the bedroom. She opens a drawer and pulls out one stocking then another, holding them up. She runs her arm into one of them and spreads her fingers.
What is it
,
kitten?