she asked.
Oh Lord. She called me a child. I would be forty before anyone thought of me as a capable woman.
Charlotte pointed to a few mismatched lawn chairs under an oak tree. “Let’s sit in the shade, shall we?”
We walked to the chairs, the grandmother limping the whole way. “This rheumatism gonna be the death of me.” She lowered herself into one of the rusty old chairs with a groan. “If the sugar don’t get me first,” she added.
“Do you have enough Bufferin?” Charlotte asked.
The woman gave her a tired look. “For all the good it do, which ain’t much. If it wasn’t for trying to hold this house together, I’d ask the good Lord to take me, I swear.” She nodded toward me. “What’s your name, honey?” she asked.
“This is Mrs. Forrester. Mrs. Forrester, I’d like you to meet Mrs. Hart.”
I nodded. “Happy to meet you,” I said. “I’ll be taking Mrs. Werkman’s place.”
The woman’s face fell. Every cell in her cheeks and chin literally sagged with her disappointment. “No,” she said. “That can’t be. You need to keep on with us,” she said to Charlotte. “You been with us since Violet got took away. You know everything there is to know about—”
“I know it must be a surprise,” Charlotte said, “but I’m moving into another position in the department. It’s time for some new blood to—”
“No,” Mrs. Hart said again. “She can’t take over. She’s nothing but a baby!” I heard the worry in her voice and knew it was time for me to speak up with some confidence.
“Mrs. Hart.” I leaned forward in the chair. I wanted to touch her, but I wasn’t sure if that was allowed. There was so much I didn’t know! “Mrs. Werkman is filling me in about your family, and you and I will get to know each other very well and I’ll learn how I can help you. It will be all right.” I smiled, but she turned her head away, a weariness in her sagging shoulders.
“Tell us how Mary Ella is doing,” Charlotte said. “I wish she was here to meet Mrs. Forrester. Where is she?”
“You know as well as me I can’t keep no tabs on that girl,” she said. “Good thing we got her fixed, that’s all I can say, and Ivy’s worse every day. When can she get the operation? She flunked that test you give her, right?”
“No, no. It’s not the sort of test you pass or fail. It only measures her ability to learn, and she didn’t score all that low, so I’ll use her epilepsy to get her the surgery. Actually”—she looked at me—“Mrs. Forrester will be taking over Ivy’s case.”
Mrs. Hart sank even farther down into the chair, if that was possible. “Does she know what she’s doin’?” She pointed at me.
She’d picked up on my insecurity and, in doing so, fed it. I tried to smile reassuringly.
“This one’s a quick learner,” Charlotte said, nodding in my direction. “She’ll know the ropes in no time. Don’t you worry.”
“Ivy’s a nice girl,” Mrs. Hart said to me. “Don’t go thinking these girls ain’t nice, ’cause they is. But there’s so much evil in the world and it all just settles on their shoulders.” She leaned toward me. “The devil lives in them woods.” She pointed behind me in a way that sent a chill up my spine. “He lives on this here farm. Took my son—” She looked at Charlotte. “Does she know about that?”
Charlotte nodded. “Yes, I told her.”
“The devil took my son,” Mrs. Hart said. “Made his wife, Violet, go clear out of her head. Turned Mary Ella into a girl I don’t know. Now it’s doing its dirty work on Ivy. I pray to Jesus regular to watch over them, but it ain’t helpin’.”
I remembered Charlotte using the word “marginal” to describe Mrs. Hart. Talking with her, I thought I understood the meaning of the word.
“What’s going on with Ivy now?” Charlotte asked.
“She sneaks out at night, just like Mary Ella used to.”
“How do you know?” Charlotte asked.
“I hear the squeak
Oh Lord. She called me a child. I would be forty before anyone thought of me as a capable woman.
Charlotte pointed to a few mismatched lawn chairs under an oak tree. “Let’s sit in the shade, shall we?”
We walked to the chairs, the grandmother limping the whole way. “This rheumatism gonna be the death of me.” She lowered herself into one of the rusty old chairs with a groan. “If the sugar don’t get me first,” she added.
“Do you have enough Bufferin?” Charlotte asked.
The woman gave her a tired look. “For all the good it do, which ain’t much. If it wasn’t for trying to hold this house together, I’d ask the good Lord to take me, I swear.” She nodded toward me. “What’s your name, honey?” she asked.
“This is Mrs. Forrester. Mrs. Forrester, I’d like you to meet Mrs. Hart.”
I nodded. “Happy to meet you,” I said. “I’ll be taking Mrs. Werkman’s place.”
The woman’s face fell. Every cell in her cheeks and chin literally sagged with her disappointment. “No,” she said. “That can’t be. You need to keep on with us,” she said to Charlotte. “You been with us since Violet got took away. You know everything there is to know about—”
“I know it must be a surprise,” Charlotte said, “but I’m moving into another position in the department. It’s time for some new blood to—”
“No,” Mrs. Hart said again. “She can’t take over. She’s nothing but a baby!” I heard the worry in her voice and knew it was time for me to speak up with some confidence.
“Mrs. Hart.” I leaned forward in the chair. I wanted to touch her, but I wasn’t sure if that was allowed. There was so much I didn’t know! “Mrs. Werkman is filling me in about your family, and you and I will get to know each other very well and I’ll learn how I can help you. It will be all right.” I smiled, but she turned her head away, a weariness in her sagging shoulders.
“Tell us how Mary Ella is doing,” Charlotte said. “I wish she was here to meet Mrs. Forrester. Where is she?”
“You know as well as me I can’t keep no tabs on that girl,” she said. “Good thing we got her fixed, that’s all I can say, and Ivy’s worse every day. When can she get the operation? She flunked that test you give her, right?”
“No, no. It’s not the sort of test you pass or fail. It only measures her ability to learn, and she didn’t score all that low, so I’ll use her epilepsy to get her the surgery. Actually”—she looked at me—“Mrs. Forrester will be taking over Ivy’s case.”
Mrs. Hart sank even farther down into the chair, if that was possible. “Does she know what she’s doin’?” She pointed at me.
She’d picked up on my insecurity and, in doing so, fed it. I tried to smile reassuringly.
“This one’s a quick learner,” Charlotte said, nodding in my direction. “She’ll know the ropes in no time. Don’t you worry.”
“Ivy’s a nice girl,” Mrs. Hart said to me. “Don’t go thinking these girls ain’t nice, ’cause they is. But there’s so much evil in the world and it all just settles on their shoulders.” She leaned toward me. “The devil lives in them woods.” She pointed behind me in a way that sent a chill up my spine. “He lives on this here farm. Took my son—” She looked at Charlotte. “Does she know about that?”
Charlotte nodded. “Yes, I told her.”
“The devil took my son,” Mrs. Hart said. “Made his wife, Violet, go clear out of her head. Turned Mary Ella into a girl I don’t know. Now it’s doing its dirty work on Ivy. I pray to Jesus regular to watch over them, but it ain’t helpin’.”
I remembered Charlotte using the word “marginal” to describe Mrs. Hart. Talking with her, I thought I understood the meaning of the word.
“What’s going on with Ivy now?” Charlotte asked.
“She sneaks out at night, just like Mary Ella used to.”
“How do you know?” Charlotte asked.
“I hear the squeak
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