Sophie and the Rising Sun (22 page)

“You want to know how I come to clean things so good?”

Sophie nodded.

“Make all those white ladies feel like they been living in a pigsty before. Make
them
feel dirty.” And in the next breath Sally switched right over to a different topic, without so much as missing a beat. “So I know there’s some kind of a good reason for what you’ve been doing. But it’s got you in a whole heap of trouble, sure enough.”

And it caught Sophie completely by surprise, for here she had been wondering how on earth she could have failed to recognize Sally, even though Sophie hadn’t thought of her in a long time. Not until Miss Ruth started all that fuss about the book discussion group. And Sophie had never even thought to try and find out what had finally
happened to her or where she lived. Or anything.

Through all of those thoughts, Big Sally’s incomprehensible statement intruded.

“Trouble?” Sophie finally managed the word. W
hat on earth is she talking about?

“Yes,
trouble,”
Big Sally repeated. “‘Cause Miss Ruth’s been over to Miss Anne’s this afternoon, and she knows all about you going down to that old fishing cabin of Miss Anne’s papa’s.”

“Oh, Lord!” Sophie breathed, and it was definitely more prayer than a lament.

“Sure enough! Amen to that!” Big Sally agreed.

“But how?’’

“Guess she’s been spying is all. That’s no surprise to you, is it?”

“No, but...”

“No
buts
about it. You should have known somebody’d find out. This town? Thought you’d keep something a secret in
this
town?” Big Sally’s sidelong gaze and slowly shaking head answered her own question. And also implied—most silently—that Sophie had been one big fool.

“What does she know, other than I’ve been going there?” Sophie asked. For if Miss Ruth had been spying and had followed her to the cabin, maybe she knew about Mr. Oto being there too.
Oh, Lord!

“She doesn’t know nothing else. And she won’t. Miss Anne done made sure of that. “

“And what do you know?” Sophie asked, for suddenly it had dawned upon her exactly what she and Big Sally were discussing.

“I know it all,” Big Sally answered. “Miss Anne unloaded the whole thing on me just a little while ago.’’

“You know about
him?
”
Because whatever Big Sally called “the whole thing” just might
not
be the whole thing.
Couldn’t be,
Sophie was thinking desperately.
Because even Miss Anne doesn’t know everything. What all has happened between Mr. Oto and me.

“And now I’ve seen your face this afternoon, I know a lot more than Miss Anne does.” Again, the voice intruded into Sophie’s spinning thoughts. “So I know it won’t do any good telling you not to go down there again.’’

“Oh, but I won’t go again, “ Sophie said simply. Because whatever it took to keep him safe was what she would do.

“Well, that’s a blessing I sure didn’t expect,” Big Sally sighed. Then she looked at Sophie for a long time with those deep and somber eyes. “But if you do decide to go down there, you come get me. I’ll go with you. Stay outside and make sure that old busybody don’t come near the cabin.’’

As she spoke, Big Sally obviously felt an immediate pleasure toward the vague idea of waylaying Miss Ruth on a dark path by the river. And the thought must have occurred to Sophie, too. So that in the midst of that deadly seriousness, Sophie and Big Sally looked at each other for a long, silent moment before Big Sally’s eyebrows shot up into the very edge of her hair and she started speaking suddenly and with an animation that Sophie could never have imagined.

Her voice fell to a deep and vicious whisper. “Dark as midnight down there. Me standing there in that deep, old dark. Me! Big as a mountain! Black as the night! So can’t nobody see a thing! And along she’ll come, snooping and sniffing, just like a old dog after hisself a girlfriend!” Here, she scrunched her shoulders, wrinkled her nose as if at some unpleasant odor, and moved her head from side to side—sniffing and sniffing.

Sophie watched and listened almost in disbelief—wondering at the same time how Big Sally—Queen Sally—could make herself look almost exactly like that dried-up little Miss Ruth.

“
Jump
out at her!” Sally’s sudden voice booming and the great arms thrown wide. “Me! Bigger’n her by a hundred, a
thousand
times! Jump right on her! Throw her down on the ground! Yank them ugly pink bloomers off her ugly old white ass! Wrap ‘em ‘round her head like the rag my mama had to make me wear wrapped ‘round my head and then hook her up high on a big tree limb and leave her like that, squealing and hollering and flapping around just like a old scarecrow! Leave her there forever and ever! Amen!’’

Sophie was coming closer and closer to doing something like clapping her hands, but she didn’t know if it was because of Big Sally’s vivid description and wild gesticulations or because the mere idea of anyone’s doing such a thing to Miss Ruth filled her with a surprising sense of delight.

And maybe that’s why—when Big Sally shouted “Amen!”— Sophie shouted “
Amen!
” right after her, her own voice startling her. And it certainly startled Big Sally, too. For one long moment, she gazed incredulously at Sophie. Because it was the very first time in Sally’s whole life that she had found
anything
to be amusing.

So that the corners of the big mouth moved upward, involuntarily, higher and higher until they finally succeeded in lifting the large, heavy upper lip. The edges of straight, gleaming teeth appeared, and the teeth grew larger and larger, until the entire bottom half of her face seemed to have been replaced by a huge, expansive, dazzling smile.

“Hallelujah!” Big Sally shouted, lifting her grin toward heaven and bringing up her hands so that the white palms looked as if they were waiting for the Great God Almighty Himself to drop something into them.

“Yes! Hallelujah!” echoed Sophie.

“It’s so
good!
”
Big Sally yelled.

“Yes, it is! It’s good!” Sophie repeated after her.

“You got to have bad feelings toward some folks!” Sally yelled. “‘Cause they do things that’s bad!’’

“They sure do!’’

“And you got to have good feelings about other folks!” Big Sally yelled. “‘Cause they deserve good feelings. They deserve to be loved!’’

“Yes, they do!” Sophie answered.

But by now, she was so caught up in the whole thing that she didn’t even know what the words meant. That is, not until she realized that Sally had fallen silent and was gazing at her with big, luminous eyes that were so deep and so kind, Sophie felt she could fall right into them and drown in complete happiness. Having someone look at her like that. With love. The way Mr. Oto looked at her, but different. But still love.

“What?” Sophie asked her finally, after they had gazed at each other silently for a long time, each caught up in her own thoughts.

“You hear what you said?” Big Sally’s voice was soft.

“What?” Sophie repeated, senselessly.

“That some folks deserve to be loved.’’

“I said that?’’

“You sure did. And you’re one of them.’’

“What do you mean?” Suddenly, Sophie felt close to tears. But she didn’t know why. Maybe it had something to do with all the praising and the hollering she’d done.
Mama always said that kind of thing can get people all stirred up so they don’t know what they’re doing or saying anymore.

“Means it was good for you to love Henry,” Big Sally said simply. “And it would have been even better if he’d loved you back.” Sophie drew a sharp breath, but Sally pretended not to notice. She simply went on: “And now it’s good for you to let somebody else love you, now Henry’s gone. Been gone. And if somebody loves you, it don’t matter where he came from or what he looks like. Or nothing.”

But Sophie was wondering what on earth Sally was saying. How did she know about Henry? But more importantly, how did she know about Mr. Oto? His feelings for her? And her own feelings for him? Did Miss Anne know about this and tell her?

“How did you know?” Sophie asked in a very serious—almost accusatory—tone. “Miss Anne didn’t tell you.” Sophie didn’t realize how emphatically she knew that, until she heard the conviction in her own voice.

“No. Miss Anne never said such a thing, And she sure don’t know about it, else she would have told me.” Big Sally answered. “I’m the one figured it out. Didn’t take much, though. ‘Cause I know that look on your face.’’

“Look?”

“I saw it the first time you looked at me after your mama made you quit coming to play. Then, years later, when my mama brought us back for a weekend, I saw you one day when Henry was coming down the street, and you all
spoke in passing. That’s all it was. But I saw your face. Saw it, too, when we all found out he wasn’t coming home from the war. This time, I want to see that in your face for somebody you can have.’’

“But he’s going to be gone, too,” Sophie said, and a deep and lasting sigh followed her words like a door closing.

“No.” Big Sally said the word with the finality of someone who has absolutely no doubt. “He won’t go without you. Not if you go with him.’’

To that, Sophie had no response. She was remembering how fully she had expected the great crane to step out of the bushes. And if he had, she would have gone back to the cabin. Gone away with him.

But where?
Sophie was thinking.
In this whole, wide world, where is the place we could go? No. War robbed me before, and war will rob me again.

“I wish you could see your face,” Big Sally’s voice broke through Sophie’s thinking. “Look just like a dead bird.’’

Yes
, Sophie thought.
Those poor, eyeless little things
. And Sophie’s own voice out of her childhood:
Why do you keep them, Mama?

Because nothing lasts, Sophie. One minute they’re pretty and alive and flying from tree to tree. Next minute, they’re stiff and cold on the ground.

“Well, you think on it,” Big Sally said at last. “And if you decide to go down there to him tonight, you come get me. Knock on that little back window. I’ll hear you.’’

“Yes,” Sophie answered. “You’ll hear me.’’

“But let me tell you this: If you go down there tonight, you’re not to come back. You go on and go away with him. You hear me?’’

“I hear you.’’

“So you either go or you stay. One or the other.’’

“Yes.”

Big Sally stood, silently, looking at Sophie. Stood there for so long that finally, Sophie looked at her, expectantly. And then Big Sally spoke with great deliberation and also with kindness.

“I didn’t never see Henry look at you the way you looked at him.”

It was the last thing Big Sally said to her old friend. Only her clumping footsteps in the grass and then silence.

It took that long for Sophie
to hear exactly what Big Sally had said.

He did!
Sophie was tempted to yell into the emptiness Big Sally left behind her, but something stopped the words.

He
did
love me!

Very clearly and right before her eyes, Henry’s smile floated in the moisture-laden air. But something tight in her throat. Lodged there, deeply entrenched and completely immovable.

He loved me!
The silent words fluttered weakly against the back of her eyes and then were still. Blessedly still.

Sophie, sitting on the riverbank, where she had always taken the grief, to mix it with solitude. Grief for the lost love who had existed, at first, like a tiny pinpoint of far- away light. Light that would never have begun glowing at all, had Henry come home from the war. Because then, it would have been the gaze of his eyes that always looked slightly beyond her. The polite smile whose roots never reached his heart.