Place Called Estherville (8 page)

“I don’t know, Miss Madgie.”

Madgie was provoked. Her lips hardened into a narrow taut line across her face. She looked at Kathyanne with a harsh, angry expression.

“Now, tell me the truth, Kathyanne,” she said in a demanding tone. “Did you leave Mrs. Swayne of your own free will, or did she discharge you? What was the real reason?”

“I left because I wanted to.”

“You are very aggravating, Kathyanne. I’m sure there must have been some other reason. I don’t believe you. You told me you worked for her for only six or seven months, and in the past her maids have always stayed with her two or three years or longer. Now, tell me the truth!”

“It was just as I said, Miss Madgie. I wanted to leave.”

“I could call her on the phone, you know, and I’m sure she’d tell me. We’ve always been very close friends.”

“I don’t mind if you call her, Miss Madgie.”

“But why did you want to leave, Kathyanne?” she asked persistently.

“I decided it would be better if I worked somewhere else.”

“So that’s it!” she said with a triumphant smile. “It was a personal reason, wasn’t it? It had nothing to do with your work, or with Norma’s treatment of you, did it? It might have happened in any household in town—isn’t that what you mean, Kathyanne?”

“I suppose so,” she admitted.

Madgie smiled engagingly as though to give the impression that she knew exactly what had happened, and that it would be useless for Kathyanne to try to hide anything from her after that.

“I can readily see that under certain circumstances trouble could easily develop in a household where you worked.” She looked Kathyanne up and down with an appraising glance. “A girl your age, who’s gifted with a certain type of female charm, and with your coloring and figure, would no doubt appeal to some men—those who aren’t particular enough about such things as racial equality. The country is probably full of men with so little character—there are such men in the world, aren’t there, Kathyanne—white men I mean? Of course, you’d know all about it, wouldn’t you, Kathyanne?”

Kathyanne made no reply, but Madgie took it for granted that Kathyanne would admit it.

“You’ve had such experiences, of course—right here in town, haven’t you, Kathyanne?”

Kathyanne remained silent. She was wondering, however, if Norma had suspected the reason for her leaving and had said something about it to Madgie. She was almost certain that she knew what Madgie was leading up to now, as well as what she would eventually ask. She told herself that this was one time when she wanted to be able to answer convincingly and conclusively.

“Kathyanne,” Madgie began, leaning over the table toward her confidentially and lowering her voice to an intimate level, “Kathyanne, has my husband—has Mr. Pugh—has he ever shown any indication—has he ever said anything that made you think he is interested in you—in any way—well, you know what I mean, don’t you? Men always give themselves away, don’t they? They’re so awkward and bungling about such things. They can be downright childish. You can nearly always read their minds a mile away. Now, I want you to be perfectly honest and frank. Mr. Pugh will never know you told me. You know you can trust me. Now, has he ever approached you with a suggestion—anything like that—I mean, has he ever actually—well, has he Kathyanne?”

“No, Miss Madgie,” she replied in a firm voice, looking directly at her.

“Are you sure—is that the truth, Kathyanne?” she asked through trembling lips. Her hands were clasped tightly together and resting on her lap. “I must know the truth, Kathyanne! I’ve got to know the truth!”

“It is the truth, Miss Madgie.”

Madgie drew herself up with a doubtful, uncertain sigh. After that she leaned back in the chair, her shoulders drooping wearily. She suddenly looked older and the lines in her face were more noticeable.

“I don’t know whether to believe you or not. Women are such dreadful liars about such things. All women are. Even girls your age. I don’t know.” She was frowning and shaking her head, and she made no effort to hide her tears. “It’s awful not to know—not to be absolutely certain. Maybe it’s wisest always to suspect the very worst. Then you are never in doubt. Men can’t be trusted—no man can be—not even Mr. Pugh. I know colored girls are a great temptation to white men—even the blackest can be, but especially mulattoes and quadroons. My father—sometimes I wonder if Mr. Pugh—but there’s no way on earth of knowing absolutely.

But if I thought for one minute—” She was crying brokenly. “If I only had your—your charm. Yes, that’s what it is—your charm. I’d give my very soul for it now—because then I know I’d never have to worry about Mr. Pugh. I could hold him. I know I could!”

Madgie wiped the tears from her face with the napkin, and they looked at each other, both wondering what thoughts were in the other’s mind. It was growing late and none of the housework had been done that morning. Kathyanne tried to think of some way to ask Madgie for her wages again without upsetting her and making her angry. Madgie kept gazing at her suspiciously.

“Kathyanne, if I ever have reason to believe—” Madgie said hesitatingly, “—I’d stop at nothing. You know that, don’t you? I’d have no mercy for you. I wouldn’t think twice. I’d kill you. Yes, I really would. You’d better remember that, Kathyanne. I mean every word of it. I’d kill you.”

“Yes, Miss Madgie,” she said, frightened.

Madgie got up the second time to leave. She was almost out of the room before Kathyanne could bring herself to speak. She ran to the doorway.

“Miss Madgie!” she called tensely.

Madgie stopped and looked back at her.

“Miss Madgie, please, ma’m, it’s about my pay.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed as though relieved to hear what Kathyanne had said. “Oh, yes.” She smiled agreeably, turning and going toward the front of the house. “I’ll be right back, Kathyanne.”

As soon as the table had been cleared and the tablecloth and napkins folded and put away in the sideboard drawer, Kathyanne went to the kitchen and began washing dishes. Madgie’s manner had been so unexpectedly pleasant when she mentioned her wages that she wondered what could be the reason for such a sudden change in attitude. Every few minutes she stopped and listened for the sound of Madgie coming through the dining room, but she did not return and soon a quarter-hour had passed. While she was putting the dishes in the cupboard, she began to worry again, this time thinking that Madgie had deliberately lied and had no intention of coming back. She did not know what to do. Clyde Picquet, the rent collector, had agreed to wait until that evening when, she told him, she expected to have money to give him; besides that, she had to buy food as well as medicine for Aunt Hazel. She hurriedly swept the floor, hung the tea towels up to dry, and then went as far as the dining-room door. Presently she heard Madgie coming down the hall, and she hurried back into the kitchen and stood beside the table. It had been a relief to hear footsteps, and she was sorry she had suspected Madgie of planning to leave the house without paying her. She tried to be calm as she heard the footsteps come closer.

Madgie walked in carrying an armful of clothes. She dumped the clothing in a pile on the kitchen table, and then stood back beaming with satisfaction. There were several out-of-season woolen dresses that had been hanging on a nail in the hall closet for a number of years, a knotted ball of unmatched stockings with runs in them, and a pair of scuffed and soiled pink bedroom slippers. Madgie searched under the pile until she drew out a dusty, crushed felt halt with feather trimming. The doubt that had come to Kathyanne’s mind when she first saw Madgie dump the clothing on the table and smile engagingly was now strong and forboding. She moved away from the table.

“There!” Madgie said, tossing the feathered hat to the top of the heap with a confident gesture. “I’d almost forgotten all about these nice things. It’s been so long since I’ve looked at them. I’m being very generous, Kathyanne. I hope you fully appreciate it. These are very expensive dresses, and that hat was by no means cheap when I bought it in Atlanta. I hate to part with all these nice things, but I know you’ll appreciate them. You’ll probably have to alter the dresses a little.” She glanced self-consciously at Kathyanne’s slender figure. “Well?” she said a moment later with an impatient toss of her head. “Don’t just stand there! Aren’t you going to so much as thank me for all this, Kathyanne? Don’t you realize how generous I’m being? Say something, Kathyanne!”

She tried not to let her feelings show how disappointed and unhappy she was, because she still hoped to get at least part of her wages in money. She waited, biting her lip tensely, until she was sure she had control of herself. She knew that if she was not careful she would say something that would antagonize Madgie. All at once she could feel the sting of tears that refused to be held back any longer.

“What’s the matter with you, Kathyanne?” she heard Madgie say in a nervous high-pitched voice. “You’re acting very strange. You haven’t said a word, Kathyanne.”

She knew before she spoke that she was on the verge of making Madgie angry, but she could not help herself. “I can’t take those things for my pay, Miss Madgie,” she said, no longer making a pretense of her feelings. “I need the money. Your old clothes won’t do.”

“Well!” Madgie remarked sarcastically. “I suppose you think you’re too good to wear my clothes.”

“No, it’s not that.”

“Then what is the matter with you?”

This time Kathyanne forced herself not to say anything.

“You’re being very ungrateful—and very foolish, too,” Madgie told her crossly. “I never saw such a person before. When you came here to work for me, I thought at last I’d found good colored help. I can see now how wrong I was. You’re just like all the rest of them. You have no sense of appreciation whatsoever. There’s nothing in all the world more provoking than an ungrateful servant.”

“I would appreciate it, Miss Madgie, but I don’t need clothes. I need the money.”

“Money!” she exclaimed with a derisive laugh. “You’re trying with your crafty ways to get both out of me—clothes and money. I know how wily and tricky the colored are. Nobody has to tell me. But I might have known what to expect. You don’t fool me one instant, though. I’ve lived with the colored all my life, and I know their deceitful little conniving tricks better than they know them themselves. Every last one of you will try to do something spiteful like this every time you have the slightest chance. Sometimes I think it’s born into every last one of you and will never die out as long as your race lasts. But you’re not fooling me, Kathyanne.”

“But when I started to work for you—”

“When you started to work! Just listen to yourself! You’re telling a vile, bald-faced lie of the meanest kind. That’s why nobody can ever believe the colored. There’s never a word of truth in any of you. When you started to work for me, I never agreed to pay you one red cent of money and you know it, too. Money was never mentioned—not once! You said you’d work for me reasonably if I’d give you the job—”

“But when you agree to work for somebody, it’s understood you’ll be paid in money. Miss Norma always paid me every—”

“You shut your mouth! I won’t have you talking to me with such impertinence! You’re trying to make it appear that I’m taking advantage of you. That was the only understanding we had, and I’m going to do just exactly what I think is right. I’ve always given my servants clothes like this, and I must say that most of them appreciated what they received and were glad to have them. Very few of them ever showed a spirit like yours, and if they did they lived to regret it. You seem to forget that you’ve been eating three meals a day here for the past month, meals that I provide for you. Altogether, I think I’m being extremely generous. There are not many women in this town who treat a maid as well as I treat you. You’re ungrateful, Kathyanne. Very ungrateful. And I hope you live to regret it. I hope you have to beg off the streets until you learn your lesson. Now, will you take these clothes I’ve offered to give you? Will you?”

She shook her head.

“Why not?”

“I need fifteen dollars for last month’s rent.”

Madgie angrily snatched up a baking pan from the table and hurled it with all her might to the floor. The pan clattered noisily across the room to the opposite wall.

“All you colored are just alike—begging for money all the time. I’ve never known it to fail. The better you’re treated, the more you demand. Well, you won’t get it from me. I wouldn’t hand over as much as a thin dime after seeing your attitude about these lovely clothes I wanted to see you have. You stayed out there in the country till you got a common education, and then you thought you could move to town and demand anything you wanted from white people. Somebody’s got to put you in your place. Somebody’s got to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.”

“The clothes are nice, Miss Madgie, but it’s the rent money—”

Exasperated, Madgie drew a long deep breath. Presently she forced a smile to her lips.

“Kathyanne, I don’t want to be hard on you. All my life I’ve believed that we white people should go to the trouble of trying to understand the colored, and help them—show them what’s best for their own welfare—just like you would a child. Every time I heard people talking about ways for the two races to live together harmoniously, I just think to myself how simple it would all be if everybody would only listen to me. I wouldn’t think of scolding one of my children for not having the foresight and the judgment of an adult—I would try to explain to him he should do one thing and not something else. That’s the intelligent thing to do. And I feel exactly the same way about you, Kathyanne, child. I want to be patient and try to help you understand. Now, if you want the clothes, it’s not too late to change your mind. These are very lovely things. Just look at this striped wool dress. Don’t you like it, Kathyanne? It’s a little too warm to wear now, but you could put it away in mothballs until fall. I’d be glad to let you have some mothballs, too.”

She shook her head. “I’ll just have to quit and find a job somewhere else, Miss Madgie. I don’t like to leave without notice, but I just can’t keep on working for you any longer without real pay.”