(sticking to the convention by which these things happened in books, orphans taken in and put to bed on sofas), and so Bobby lay down on the couch in her clothes, hands crossed over her breast like a corpse, and they put the bedclothes on her.
"Okay."
"Okay."
"You okay?"
"I reckon."
"Okay."
Later though, long after they were asleep in their own beds, she got up, and passing through Pierce's room and maybe through his dream as well, she went into the front room, slipped off her shoes but not the summer dress and baby's sweater, crawled into Bird's bed without waking her, and slept there till morning almost without moving.
* * * *
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Seven
Pierce awoke with the conviction that something altogether new, something both dangerous and valuable, lay in the bungalow with them, but couldn't at first remember what it was. When he did remember he also remembered that Winnie no Mousie would in a moment come in to see if they were up, and call them to breakfast, and that not long after that Sister Mary Philomel would be arriving, who could not, must not, see Bobby.
"Pierce! She's in here!"
He got out of bed, too late, the front door had opened and Mousie was talking. Come on now git y'all's grits. ‘Fore they's cold. And the door closed as she left.
He looked into Bird and Hildy's room just as Bobby uncovered herself, having made herself small amid an artful tumble of bedclothes on Bird's bed. She climbed out, refreshed, unapologetic, pulling at her tangled locks with both hands: their charge now, and satisfied to be so it seemed, though still wary in the depths of her closed face.
While they dressed and washed, they tried to lay plans, but Pierce's were so outrageous—involving disguises, illusions, huge lies rapidly changed—that Hildy said she wouldn't be part of it, and Bobby got nervous and cried out over their altercation Y'all don't tell don't tell don't TELL, which they had no intention of doing: she was amid expert secret-keepers, and safe.
At breakfast they filled their pockets with bread and fruit as Hildy told them to do, which Mousie did notice but didn't ponder; there was no time for Bobby to eat it, though, for Sister was on her way.
"Whose sister?"
"Sister. From the hospital."
"But whose?"
They got her into her coat and filled her pockets from theirs, and Pierce tugged her by the hand out through the schoolroom and out the back door. Just in time, for as they crept along the far side of the bungalow ducking under the windows (Gene and Smiley did it that away, duck beneath the windows, peek up to see the badguys unaware within), they heard Sister Mary Philomel arriving, and Mousie delivering Warren to be schooled.
A dash across the open space of the breezeway and around the backside of the house, Pierce afraid to let go of her hot hand for fear she'd bolt, and to the bulkhead doors leading to the cellar.
"Ain't gone go down there."
"It's just for a second ,” Pierce said. “We'll go up inside."
She looked around her, up the hillside, cold smoke coming from her mouth. She had nowhere to go. She went down the bulkhead stairs into darkness with Pierce.
Base-born, born in a basement? At St. Simon Cyrenean the toilets had been in the basement, and a request to go to the basement elicited giggles. Sister may I go to the Basement, thighs shut tight together.
His daddy too had wronged his mam, somehow; Pierce didn't know how or why, but somehow.
The light switch was near the interior stairs, so they crossed the cellar in the dark, she willingly holding his hand now and silent. She froze when the automatic stoker spilled coal into the furnace—the automatic stoker which it was Joe Boyd's job to fill daily with coal, he'd be coming down here any minute.
"It's nothing."
"Somebody shoveled."
"No, it's nothing. Come on."
They climbed the narrow stair pressed close together, Pierce half aware of Bobby's strange strong odor, rough as her speech. What Axel called a hum .
"Okay."
"Okay."
"You okay?"
"I reckon."
"Okay."
Later though, long after they were asleep in their own beds, she got up, and passing through Pierce's room and maybe through his dream as well, she went into the front room, slipped off her shoes but not the summer dress and baby's sweater, crawled into Bird's bed without waking her, and slept there till morning almost without moving.
* * * *
[Back to Table of Contents]
Seven
Pierce awoke with the conviction that something altogether new, something both dangerous and valuable, lay in the bungalow with them, but couldn't at first remember what it was. When he did remember he also remembered that Winnie no Mousie would in a moment come in to see if they were up, and call them to breakfast, and that not long after that Sister Mary Philomel would be arriving, who could not, must not, see Bobby.
"Pierce! She's in here!"
He got out of bed, too late, the front door had opened and Mousie was talking. Come on now git y'all's grits. ‘Fore they's cold. And the door closed as she left.
He looked into Bird and Hildy's room just as Bobby uncovered herself, having made herself small amid an artful tumble of bedclothes on Bird's bed. She climbed out, refreshed, unapologetic, pulling at her tangled locks with both hands: their charge now, and satisfied to be so it seemed, though still wary in the depths of her closed face.
While they dressed and washed, they tried to lay plans, but Pierce's were so outrageous—involving disguises, illusions, huge lies rapidly changed—that Hildy said she wouldn't be part of it, and Bobby got nervous and cried out over their altercation Y'all don't tell don't tell don't TELL, which they had no intention of doing: she was amid expert secret-keepers, and safe.
At breakfast they filled their pockets with bread and fruit as Hildy told them to do, which Mousie did notice but didn't ponder; there was no time for Bobby to eat it, though, for Sister was on her way.
"Whose sister?"
"Sister. From the hospital."
"But whose?"
They got her into her coat and filled her pockets from theirs, and Pierce tugged her by the hand out through the schoolroom and out the back door. Just in time, for as they crept along the far side of the bungalow ducking under the windows (Gene and Smiley did it that away, duck beneath the windows, peek up to see the badguys unaware within), they heard Sister Mary Philomel arriving, and Mousie delivering Warren to be schooled.
A dash across the open space of the breezeway and around the backside of the house, Pierce afraid to let go of her hot hand for fear she'd bolt, and to the bulkhead doors leading to the cellar.
"Ain't gone go down there."
"It's just for a second ,” Pierce said. “We'll go up inside."
She looked around her, up the hillside, cold smoke coming from her mouth. She had nowhere to go. She went down the bulkhead stairs into darkness with Pierce.
Base-born, born in a basement? At St. Simon Cyrenean the toilets had been in the basement, and a request to go to the basement elicited giggles. Sister may I go to the Basement, thighs shut tight together.
His daddy too had wronged his mam, somehow; Pierce didn't know how or why, but somehow.
The light switch was near the interior stairs, so they crossed the cellar in the dark, she willingly holding his hand now and silent. She froze when the automatic stoker spilled coal into the furnace—the automatic stoker which it was Joe Boyd's job to fill daily with coal, he'd be coming down here any minute.
"It's nothing."
"Somebody shoveled."
"No, it's nothing. Come on."
They climbed the narrow stair pressed close together, Pierce half aware of Bobby's strange strong odor, rough as her speech. What Axel called a hum .
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