assumed from the smell was biscuits. Apparently satisfied, she used a pot holder to pull the tray of biscuits out of the oven and rest it on the counter. The smell of the chicken frying in the pan combined with the bread made my mouth water and I realized it had been hours since I had last eaten. The elderly woman closed the door with a bang and looked at me. “She passed when she was 11.”
“I’m sorry.”
“The Lord must have needed her.”
I watched her fiddle at the stove, stirring a pot, turning chicken and pulling it out before it burned. She rested the cooked pieces on a paper towel on the counter.
Since we were speaking truths here, I decided to tell her mine. “I can see dead people.”
“Mmmm hmmmm.”
“You know this?” I wasn’t totally surprised at this point.
Ms. Frances smoothed the front of her apron. “I seen you talking to them. Tonya likes you.”
I was stunned. Could she see them also? “You can see them?”
“Oh no, child. I can’t see no dead people. But I’ve known Tonya has been waiting around for something. She was always a mama’s girl, but I knew she wasn’t here for me. I see now. She was waiting on you.”
“Me?”
She nodded and went back to her stove.
“But I help the spirits move on – cross over. She’s never asked me for help.”
“I don’t expect so. Tonya don’t need your help.” She leveled a dark eye at me. “You need her help.”
Ruth mentioned that this girl was playing games, but even so, none of this made sense. Not only that, everyone seemed to know more than I did. “What does that mean? If she wants to help, then help me. I don’t even know what I need help with.”
Ms. Frances moved slowly to the cabinet next to the sink and pulled out a cream-colored dinner plate. She carried it to the stove and began ladling food out of one of the pots. She speared a piece of chicken and dropped a golden biscuit next to the other food. After fussing a bit more, she brought the plate to me and settled it on the placemat.
“It looks wonderful,” I said, eyeing the delicious food. “I think mother is waiting for me though.”
“Eat,” said, sitting own across from me. “I told her you would be here.”
Nerves exploded in my stomach. How? How would she know this? The decision to come over here was a whim, made in a split second. “How did you know? I only decided when I got home from the hospital.”
Ms. Frances smiled devilishly. “There are more gifts than yours, Jane Watts. Or your aunt’s. Some see the past. Others death. Some the future. I have my own abilities. When I realized you would be here during dinner, I called your mother and told her I needed a little help in the house.”
I almost dropped the fork I had picked up. “You can see the future?”
“Something like that.”
Of course, vague answers. I shouldn’t expect anything else.
She nudged the plate toward me. “Eat and I’ll tell you what I can.”
So I did. I began shoveling food in my mouth. Bread and chicken and black-eyed peas. Everything tasted amazing. Fried and greasy. Real butter on the biscuits and pieces of bacon mixed in with the peas. I only had Southern food like this at my grandmother’s. My mother thought it was unhealthy.
“Tonya was a sweet but mischievous child. She ran me ragged. Her brother, Darius, was three years older. All she ever wanted was to be just like him.” She laughed wistfully. “Darius was in and out of trouble all the time, so that wasn’t a good idea at all.
I continued eating while Ms. Frances spoke, hanging on every word. She stood and went to the refrigerator and brought out a Coke and left it on the table in front of me. “I worked back then. Cleaning homes. It was just me and the kids. Tonya was either in school or with her grandmother. Sometimes she came to work with me. Things were different back then. Some things harder, others easier.
“One summer day, I had to work. School was out and Tonya’s grandmother was ill.
“I’m sorry.”
“The Lord must have needed her.”
I watched her fiddle at the stove, stirring a pot, turning chicken and pulling it out before it burned. She rested the cooked pieces on a paper towel on the counter.
Since we were speaking truths here, I decided to tell her mine. “I can see dead people.”
“Mmmm hmmmm.”
“You know this?” I wasn’t totally surprised at this point.
Ms. Frances smoothed the front of her apron. “I seen you talking to them. Tonya likes you.”
I was stunned. Could she see them also? “You can see them?”
“Oh no, child. I can’t see no dead people. But I’ve known Tonya has been waiting around for something. She was always a mama’s girl, but I knew she wasn’t here for me. I see now. She was waiting on you.”
“Me?”
She nodded and went back to her stove.
“But I help the spirits move on – cross over. She’s never asked me for help.”
“I don’t expect so. Tonya don’t need your help.” She leveled a dark eye at me. “You need her help.”
Ruth mentioned that this girl was playing games, but even so, none of this made sense. Not only that, everyone seemed to know more than I did. “What does that mean? If she wants to help, then help me. I don’t even know what I need help with.”
Ms. Frances moved slowly to the cabinet next to the sink and pulled out a cream-colored dinner plate. She carried it to the stove and began ladling food out of one of the pots. She speared a piece of chicken and dropped a golden biscuit next to the other food. After fussing a bit more, she brought the plate to me and settled it on the placemat.
“It looks wonderful,” I said, eyeing the delicious food. “I think mother is waiting for me though.”
“Eat,” said, sitting own across from me. “I told her you would be here.”
Nerves exploded in my stomach. How? How would she know this? The decision to come over here was a whim, made in a split second. “How did you know? I only decided when I got home from the hospital.”
Ms. Frances smiled devilishly. “There are more gifts than yours, Jane Watts. Or your aunt’s. Some see the past. Others death. Some the future. I have my own abilities. When I realized you would be here during dinner, I called your mother and told her I needed a little help in the house.”
I almost dropped the fork I had picked up. “You can see the future?”
“Something like that.”
Of course, vague answers. I shouldn’t expect anything else.
She nudged the plate toward me. “Eat and I’ll tell you what I can.”
So I did. I began shoveling food in my mouth. Bread and chicken and black-eyed peas. Everything tasted amazing. Fried and greasy. Real butter on the biscuits and pieces of bacon mixed in with the peas. I only had Southern food like this at my grandmother’s. My mother thought it was unhealthy.
“Tonya was a sweet but mischievous child. She ran me ragged. Her brother, Darius, was three years older. All she ever wanted was to be just like him.” She laughed wistfully. “Darius was in and out of trouble all the time, so that wasn’t a good idea at all.
I continued eating while Ms. Frances spoke, hanging on every word. She stood and went to the refrigerator and brought out a Coke and left it on the table in front of me. “I worked back then. Cleaning homes. It was just me and the kids. Tonya was either in school or with her grandmother. Sometimes she came to work with me. Things were different back then. Some things harder, others easier.
“One summer day, I had to work. School was out and Tonya’s grandmother was ill.
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