times like he always did, she had that look. She would smile and say, “Thank ya, Mista Gordon,” but I could tell she didn’t like him.
“You don’t think much of Uncle Gordon, do ya?” I asked.
Ethel picked up a brown bag, poured something out of it into her usual splatterware mug, and took a big drink. “Why on earth would you axe such a thang?” she said.
“Cuz you look at Uncle Gordy the same way Mama looks at Mr. Dabney, and I know she doesn’t think much of him.”
“No darlin’…you know, you ask mo’ questions than a school full o’ chil’ren. Lord have mercy! Now, you go on. I got work to do and I gotta get it done befo’ yo mama get back.”
Chapter 7
Ethel
1929
T hat day in Miz Ginny’s bedroom I did my level best not to answer her directly. I got up and pulled the dust cloth from outta my apron string and made like I was dustin’ as I stole a peek out the window ever now and again. I ain’t no storyteller, and for the life of me I couldn’ come up with no answer that would satisfy both Mama and Miz Ginny.
“You done made me promise not to tell nobody what I saw today. Well, I’m gonna keep that promise, but you got to do the same fo’ me. I’m gonna tell you what’s goin’ on, but ya gotta promise me to stay right chere afta I do. Ya promise?”
Miz Ginny nodded yes. Before I could get the word “accident” out, she had thrown open the do’ and was headin’ down the stairs at a gallop. I did the best I could to keep up—no mean trick, considerin’ how much longer her legs was than mine.
“Miz Ginny, ya promised,” I wailed, breathin’ hard. The screen door bounced on the hard rubber ball that Mista Gus had Wilson put on it not two weeks ago to keep the door from making a racket when it was let loose. That thud made a racket in my head as I imagined the beating I was gonna get from Mama when she found out what I had done. “Miz Ginny, wait,” I called after her. She was runnin’ lickety-split down the drive almost out of sight. I followed, puffin’ like an old steam engine.
Around the bend where the river ran close to the drive they was a host of people and trucks, a tractor, a team of horses, and another of mules.The yellin’ and directin’ made an awful din. CL was smack in the middle of the goin’s on, laughin’ and jokin’ like he was at a hootenanny—actin’ a fool. I spied Mama and Miz Bess over to the side wringin’ their hands and lookin’ every which way at once. One would be holdin’ the other up and then be shiftin’ so I couldn’t tell who was holdin’ who. Miz Ginny ran right up into the fray and almost got run over by a team of mules they’d hitched to the car tryin’ to pry it loose from around the tree. Over near CL I could see a body lyin’ on the ground covered with somethin’—a blanket, I think. I heard that no-account say to nobody in particular, “One shiftless old nigger ain’t no loss.” Then he laughed like he thought it was the funniest thing he ever heard. When I got closer I could tell from his shoes it was Sam lyin’ under that blanket. Wilson was runnin’ every which way looking for all the world like a man who done lost his mind. He seed Miz Ginny, and then he looked right at me as much as to say, git this here girl out my way afore I run her down. He looked mad with grief and fear. Then I remembered what he said in the kitchen: that Cy and Sam both was in the car with Mista Gus.
I grabbed Miz Ginny by the arm and pulled with all I was worth to git her outta the middle of the mess. “Ya come with me,” I said, tryin’ to put as much steel in my voice as Mama could. “Git on outta de way, girl. You ain’t helpin’ nobody.” I believe if CL hadn’t seen her and commenced to makin’ his way over to us, I’d still be there pullin’ on her. As it was, I still halfway dragged her over to where our mamas was huddled, proppin’ each other up. It took most the afternoon afore they could git Mista Gus and Cy
“You don’t think much of Uncle Gordon, do ya?” I asked.
Ethel picked up a brown bag, poured something out of it into her usual splatterware mug, and took a big drink. “Why on earth would you axe such a thang?” she said.
“Cuz you look at Uncle Gordy the same way Mama looks at Mr. Dabney, and I know she doesn’t think much of him.”
“No darlin’…you know, you ask mo’ questions than a school full o’ chil’ren. Lord have mercy! Now, you go on. I got work to do and I gotta get it done befo’ yo mama get back.”
Chapter 7
Ethel
1929
T hat day in Miz Ginny’s bedroom I did my level best not to answer her directly. I got up and pulled the dust cloth from outta my apron string and made like I was dustin’ as I stole a peek out the window ever now and again. I ain’t no storyteller, and for the life of me I couldn’ come up with no answer that would satisfy both Mama and Miz Ginny.
“You done made me promise not to tell nobody what I saw today. Well, I’m gonna keep that promise, but you got to do the same fo’ me. I’m gonna tell you what’s goin’ on, but ya gotta promise me to stay right chere afta I do. Ya promise?”
Miz Ginny nodded yes. Before I could get the word “accident” out, she had thrown open the do’ and was headin’ down the stairs at a gallop. I did the best I could to keep up—no mean trick, considerin’ how much longer her legs was than mine.
“Miz Ginny, ya promised,” I wailed, breathin’ hard. The screen door bounced on the hard rubber ball that Mista Gus had Wilson put on it not two weeks ago to keep the door from making a racket when it was let loose. That thud made a racket in my head as I imagined the beating I was gonna get from Mama when she found out what I had done. “Miz Ginny, wait,” I called after her. She was runnin’ lickety-split down the drive almost out of sight. I followed, puffin’ like an old steam engine.
Around the bend where the river ran close to the drive they was a host of people and trucks, a tractor, a team of horses, and another of mules.The yellin’ and directin’ made an awful din. CL was smack in the middle of the goin’s on, laughin’ and jokin’ like he was at a hootenanny—actin’ a fool. I spied Mama and Miz Bess over to the side wringin’ their hands and lookin’ every which way at once. One would be holdin’ the other up and then be shiftin’ so I couldn’t tell who was holdin’ who. Miz Ginny ran right up into the fray and almost got run over by a team of mules they’d hitched to the car tryin’ to pry it loose from around the tree. Over near CL I could see a body lyin’ on the ground covered with somethin’—a blanket, I think. I heard that no-account say to nobody in particular, “One shiftless old nigger ain’t no loss.” Then he laughed like he thought it was the funniest thing he ever heard. When I got closer I could tell from his shoes it was Sam lyin’ under that blanket. Wilson was runnin’ every which way looking for all the world like a man who done lost his mind. He seed Miz Ginny, and then he looked right at me as much as to say, git this here girl out my way afore I run her down. He looked mad with grief and fear. Then I remembered what he said in the kitchen: that Cy and Sam both was in the car with Mista Gus.
I grabbed Miz Ginny by the arm and pulled with all I was worth to git her outta the middle of the mess. “Ya come with me,” I said, tryin’ to put as much steel in my voice as Mama could. “Git on outta de way, girl. You ain’t helpin’ nobody.” I believe if CL hadn’t seen her and commenced to makin’ his way over to us, I’d still be there pullin’ on her. As it was, I still halfway dragged her over to where our mamas was huddled, proppin’ each other up. It took most the afternoon afore they could git Mista Gus and Cy
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