“But what would they do? Hitch us to a pickup and drag us behind? Shoot me in my yard front a my kids? Or just starve us to death?”
Mayor Thompson come on the radio, say how sorry he is for the Evers family. I look at the open back door and get that watched feeling
again, with a white man’s voice in the room.
“This ain’t…we ain’t doing civil rights here. We just tel ing stories like they real y happen.”
I turn off the radio, take Minny’s hand in mine. We set like that, Minny staring at the brown moth pressed up on the wal , me staring at that flap
a red meat, left dry in the pan.
Minny got the most lonesome look in her eyes. “I wish Leroy was home,” she whisper.
I doubt if them words ever been said in this house before.
FOR DAYS AND DAYS, Jackson, Mississippi’s like a pot a boiling water. On Miss Leefolt’s tee-vee, flocks a colored people march up High Street the day
after Mister Evers’ funeral. Three hundred arrested. Colored paper say thousands a people came to the service, but you could count the whites on
one hand. The police know who did it, but they ain’t tel ing nobody his name.
I come to find that the Evers family ain’t burying Medgar in Mississippi. His body’s going to Washington, to the Arlington Cemetery, and I
reckon Myrlie real proud a that. She should be. But I’d want him here, close by. In the newspaper, I read how even the President a the United States
tel ing Mayor Thompson he need to do better. Put a committee together with blacks and whites and work things out down here. But Mayor
Thompson, he say—to President Kennedy—“I am not going to appoint a bi-racial committee. Let’s not kid ourselves. I believe in the separation of the races, and that’s the way it’s going to be.”
Few days later, the mayor come on the radio again. “Jackson, Mississippi, is the closest place to heaven there is,” he say. “And it’s going to
be like this for the rest of our lives.”
For the second time in two months, Jackson, Mississippi’s in the Life magazine. This time, though, we make the cover.
CHAPTER 15
NONE A THE MEDGAR EVERS talk come up in Miss Leefolt’s house. I change the station when she come back from her lunch meeting. We go on like it’s a nice summer afternoon. I stil ain’t heard hide nor hair from Miss Hil y and I’m sick a the worry that’s always in my head.
A day after the Evers funeral, Miss Leefolt’s mama stop by for a visit. She live up in Greenwood, Mississippi, and she driving down to New
Orleans. She don’t knock, Miss Fredericks just waltz on in the living room where I’m ironing. She give me a lemony smile. I go tel Miss Leefolt who
here.
“Mama! You’re so early! You must’ve gotten up at the crack of dawn this morning, I hope you didn’t tire yourself out!” Miss Leefolt say,
rushing into the living room, picking up toys fast as she can. She shoot me a look that say, now. I put Mister Leefolt’s wrinkled shirts in a basket, get a cloth for Baby Girl’s face to wipe off the jel y.
“And you look so fresh and stylish this morning, Mama.” Miss Leefolt smiling so hard she getting bug-eyed. “Are you excited about your
shopping trip?”
From the good Buick she drive and her nice buckle shoes, I spec Miss Fredericks got a lot more money than Mister and Miss Leefolt do.
“I wanted to break up the drive. And I was hoping you’d take me to the Robert E. Lee for lunch,” Miss Fredericks say. I don’t know how this
woman can stand her own self. I heard Mister and Miss Leefolt arguing about how evertime she come to town, she make Miss Leefolt take her to
the fanciest place in town and then sit back and make Miss Leefolt pay the bil .
Miss Leefolt say, “Oh, why don’t we have Aibileen fix us lunch here? We have a real nice ham and some—”
“I stopped by to go out to lunch. Not to eat here.”
“Alright. Alright, Mama, let me just go get my handbag.”
Miss Fredericks look down at Mae Mobley playing with her baby dol , Claudia, on the floor. She bend down and give her a hug, say, “Mae
Mobley, did you like that smocked dress I sent over last week?”
“Yeah,” Baby Girl say to her granmama. I hated showing Miss Leefolt how tight that dress was around the middle. Baby Girl getting plumper.
Miss Fredericks, she scowl down at Mae Mobley. “You say yes, ma’am, young lady. Do you hear me?”
Mae Mobley, she get a dul look on her face, say, “Yes, ma’am.” But I know what she thinking. She thinking, Great. Just what I need today.
Another lady in this house who don’t like me.
They head out the door with Miss Fredericks pinching the back a Miss Leefolt’s arm. “You don’t know how to hire proper help, Elizabeth. It is
her job to make sure Mae Mobley has good manners. ”
“Alright, Mama, we’l work on it.”
“You can’t just hire anybody and hope you get lucky.”
After while, I fix Baby Girl that ham sandwich Miss Fredericks too good to eat. But Mae Mobley only take one bite, push it away.
“I don’t feel good. My froat hurts, Aibee.”
I know what a froat is and I know how to fix it. Baby Girl getting a summer cold. I heat her up a cup a honey water, little lemon in it to make it
good. But what this girl real y needs is a story so she can go to sleep. I lift her up in my arms. Law, she getting big. Gone be three years old in a few months, and pudgy as a punkin.
Ever afternoon, me and Baby Girl set in the rocking chair before her nap. Ever afternoon, I tel her: You kind, you smart, you important. But
she growing up and I know, soon, them few words ain’t gone be enough.
“Aibee? Read me a story?”
I look through the books to see what I’m on read to her. I can’t read that Curious George one more time cause she don’t want a hear it. Or
Chicken Little or Madeline neither.
So we just rock in the chair awhile. Mae Mobley lean her head against my uniform. We watch the rain dripping on the water left in the green
plastic pool. I say a prayer for Myrlie Evers, wishing I’d had work off to go to the funeral. I think on how her ten-year-old son, somebody told me, had cried so quiet through the whole thing. I rock and pray, feeling so sad, I don’t know, something just come over me. The words just come out.
“Once upon a time they was two little girls,” I say. “One girl had black skin, one girl had white.”
Mae Mobley look up at me. She listening.
“Little colored girl say to the little white girl, ‘How come your skin be so pale?’ White girl say, ‘I don’t know. How come your skin be so black?
What you think that mean?’
“But neither one a them little girls knew. So little white girl say, ‘Wel , let’s see. You got hair, I got hair.’” I gives Mae Mobley a little tousle on her head.
“Little colored girl say ‘I got a nose, you got a nose.’” I gives her little snout a tweak. She got to reach up and do the same to me.
“Little white girl say, ‘I got toes, you got toes.’ And I do the little thing with her toes, but she can’t get to mine cause I got my white work shoes
on.
“‘So we’s the same. Just a different color,’ say that little colored girl. The little white girl she agreed and they was friends. The End.”
Baby Girl just look at me. Law, that was a sorry story if I ever heard one. Wasn’t even no plot to it. But Mae Mobley, she smile and say, “Tel it
again.”
So I do. By the fourth time, she asleep. I whisper, “I’m on tel you a better one next time.”
“DON’T WE HAVE MORE TOWELS, Aibileen? This one’s fine, but we can’t take this old ratty thing, I’d be embarrassed to death. I guess we’l just take the one, then.”
Miss Leefolt al in a tizzy. She and Mister Leefolt don’t belong to no swim club, not even the dinky Broadmoore pool. Miss Hil y cal this
morning and ask if she and Baby Girl want to go swimming at the Jackson Country Club and that’s a invitation Miss Leefolt ain’t had but once or
twice. I probably been there more times than she has.
You can’t use paper money there, you got to be a member and charge it to your account and one thing I know about Miss Hil y is, she don’t like to carry nobody’s costs. I reckon Miss Hil y got other ladies she go to the Country Club with, ones who got the memberships.
We stil ain’t heard another word about the satchel. Ain’t even seen Miss Hil y in five days. Neither has Miss Skeeter, which is bad. They
sposed to be best friends. Miss Skeeter, she brung over the first Minny chapter last night. Miss Walter was no cup a tea and if Miss Hil y saw
anything relating to that, I don’t know what’s gone happen to us. I just hope Miss Skeeter ain’t too scared to tel me if she heard anything new.
I put Baby Girl’s yel ow bikini on. “You got to keep you top on, now. They don’t let no nekkid babies swim at the country club.” Nor Negroes
nor Jews. I used to work for the Goldmans. The Jackson Jews got to swim at the Colonial Country Club, the Negroes, in May’s Lake.
I feed Baby Girl a peanut butter sandwich and the phone ring.
“Miss Leefolt residence.”
“Aibileen, hey, it’s Skeeter. Is Elizabeth there?”
“Hey, Miss Skeeter…” I look over at Miss Leefolt, about to hand her the phone, but she wave her hands. She shake her head and mouth, No.
Tell her I’m not here.
“She…she gone, Miss Skeeter,” I say and I look Miss Leefolt right in the eye while I tel her lie. I don’t understand it. Miss Skeeter a member
a the club, wouldn’t be no trouble inviting her.
At noontime, we al three get in Miss Leefolt’s blue Ford Fairlane. On the back seat next to us, I got a bag with a Thermos a apple juice,
cheese nabs, peanuts, and two Co-Cola bottles that’s gone be like drinking coffee they gone be so hot. I spec Miss Leefolt know Miss Hil y ain’t
gone be pushing us to the snack bar. Law knows why she invite her today.
Baby Girl ride in my lap in the back seat. I crank the window down, let the warm air blow on our faces. Miss Leefolt keep poofing her hair up.
She a stop-and-go driver and I feel nauseous, wish she’d just keep both hands on the wheel.
We pass the Ben Franklin Five and Dime, the Seale-Lily Ice Cream drive-thru. They got a sliding window on the back side so colored folk
can get our ice cream too. My legs is sweating with Baby Girl setting on me. After while, we on a long, bumpy road with pasture on both sides, cows
flapping at the flies with they tails. We count us twenty-six cows but Mae Mobley just cal out “Ten” after the first nine. That’s high as she know.
Bout fifteen minutes later, we pul onto a paved drive. The club’s a low, white building with prickle bushes around it, not nearly so fancy as
folks talk about it. They’s plenty a parking places up front, but Miss Leefolt think on it a second, park a ways back.
We step out onto the blacktop, feel the heat cover us. I got the paper sack in one hand, Mae Mobley’s hand in the other and we trudge
across the steaming black lot. Gridlines make it like we on a charcoal gril , roasting like corncobs. My face getting tight, burning in the sun. Baby
Girl lagging back on my hand looking stunned like she just got slapped. Miss Leefolt panting and frowning at the door, stil twenty yards away,
wondering, I reckon, why she park so far. The part in my hair get to burning, then itching, but I can’t scratch at it cause both hands is ful then whoo!
somebody blow out the flame. The lobby’s dark, cool, heaven. We blink awhile.
Miss Leefolt look around, blind and shy, so I point to the side door. “Pool that a way, ma’am.”
She look grateful I know my way around so she don’t have to ask like poor folk.
We push open the door and the sun flash in our eyes again, but it’s nice, cooler. The swimming pool shining blue. The black-and-white stripe
awnings look clean. The air smel like laundry soap. Kids is laughing and splashing and ladies is laying around in they swimsuits and sunglasses
reading magazines.
Miss Leefolt roof her eyes and spy around for Miss Hil y. She got a white floppy hat on, black-and-white polky-dot dress, clonky white buckle
sandals a size too big for her feet. She frowning cause she feel out a place, but smiling cause she don’t want nobody to know it.
“There she is.” We fol ow Miss Leefolt around the pool to where Miss Hil y is in a red bathing suit. She laid out on a lounge chair, watching
her kids swim. I see two maids I don’t know with other families, but not Yule May.
“There y’al are,” Miss Hil y say. “Why, Mae Mobley, don’t you look like a little butterbal in that bikini. Aibileen, the kids are right there in the
baby pool. You can sit in the shade back yonder and look after them. Don’t let Wil iam splash the girls, now.”
Miss Leefolt lay down on the lounge chair next to Miss Hil y and I set at the table under a umbrel a, few feet behind the ladies. I pop my hose
away from my legs to dry the sweat. I’m in a pretty good position for hearing what they say.
“Yule May,” Miss Hil y shake her head at Miss Leefolt. “Another day off. I tel you, that girl is pushing it with me.” Wel , that’s one mystery
solved. Miss Hil y invite Miss Leefolt to the pool cause she know she bring me.
Miss Hil y pour more cocoa butter on her plump, tan legs, rub it around. She already so greasy she shining. “I am so ready to get down to the
coast,” Miss Hil y say. “Three weeks at the beach.”
“I wish Raleigh’s family had a house down there.” Miss Leefolt sigh. She pul her dress up a little to sun her white knees. She can’t wear no
bathing suit since she pregnant.
“Of course we have to pay the bus fare to get Yule May back up here on the weekends. Eight dol ars. I ought to take it out of her pay.”
The kids yel they want to get in the big pool now. I pul Mae Mobley’s foam bubble out the bag, fasten it around her tummy. Miss Hil y hand
me two more and I put one on Wil iam and Heather too. They get in the big pool and float around like a bunch a fishing corks. Miss Hil y look at me,
say, “Aren’t they the cutest things?” and I nod. They sure is. Even Miss Leefolt nodding.
They talk and I listen, but they ain’t no mention a Miss Skeeter or a satchel. After while, Miss Hil y send me to the snack window to get cherry
Co-Colas for everone, even myself. After while, the locusts in the trees start humming, the shade get cooler and I feel my eyes, trained on the kids in the pool, start to sag.
“Aibee, watch me! Looky at me!” I focus my eyes, smile at Mae Mobley funning around.
And that’s when I see Miss Skeeter, back behind the pool, outside the fence. She got on her tennis skirt and her racquet in her hand. She
staring at Miss Hil y and Miss Leefolt, tilting her head like she sorting something out. Miss Hil y and Miss Leefolt, they don’t see her, they stil talking about Biloxi. I watch Miss Skeeter come in the gate, walk around the pool. Pretty soon, she standing right in front a them and they stil don’t see her.
“Hey, y’al ,” Miss Skeeter say. She got sweat running down her arms. Her face is pink and swol ed up in the sun.
Miss Hil y look up, but she stay stretched out on her pool chair, magazine in her hand. Miss Leefolt jump up off her chair and stand up.
“Hey, Skeeter! Why—I didn’t…we tried to cal …” Her teeth just about chattering she smiling so big.
“Hey, Elizabeth.”
“Tennis?” Miss Leefolt ask, nodding her head like she a dol on a dashboard. “Who’re you playing with?”
“I was hitting bal s on the backboard by myself,” Miss Skeeter say. She blow a thicket a hair off her forehead, but it’s stuck. She don’t move
out the sun, though.
“Hil y,” Miss Skeeter say, “did Yule May tel you I cal ed?”
Hil y smile kind a tight. “She’s off today.”
“I cal ed you yesterday too.”
“Look, Skeeter, I didn’t have time. I have been at the campaign H.Q. since Wednesday addressing envelopes to practical y every white
person in Jackson.”
“Alright.” Miss Skeeter nod. Then she squint, say, “Hil y, are we…did I…do something to upset you?” and I feel my fingers jiggling again,
twirling that dumb invisible pencil.
Miss Hil y close her magazine, put it on the concrete so she don’t get her grease on it. “This should be discussed at a later time, Skeeter.”
Miss Leefolt sit back down real quick. She pick up Miss Hil y’s Good Housekeeping, start reading it like she ain’t ever seen nothing so
important.
“Alright.” Miss Skeeter shrug. “I just thought we could talk about…whatever this is before you go out of town.”
Miss Hil y bout to protest, but then she let out a long sigh. “Why don’t you just tel me the truth, Skeeter?”
“The truth about wh—”
“Look, I found that paraphernalia of yours.” I swal ow hard. Miss Hil y trying to whisper but she real y ain’t no good at it.
Miss Skeeter keep her eyes on Hil y. She real calm, don’t look up at me at al . “What paraphernalia do you mean?”
“In your satchel when I was hunting for the minutes? And Skeeter”—she flash her eyes up at the sky and back down—“I don’t know. I just do
not know anymore.”
“Hil y, what are you talking about? What did you see in my satchel?”
I look out at the kids, Law, I almost forgot about em. I feel like I’m gone faint listening to this.
“Those laws you were carrying around? About what the—” Miss Hil y look back at me. I keep my eyes trained on the pool. “What those other
people can and cannot do and frankly,” she hiss, “I think it’s downright pig-headed of you. To think you know better than our government? Than Ross
Barnett?”
“When did I ever say a word about Ross Barnett?” Miss Skeeter say.
Miss Hil y wag her finger up at Miss Skeeter. Miss Leefolt staring at the same page, same line, same word. I got the whole scene fixed in
the corner a my eye.
“You are not a politician, Skeeter Phelan.”
“Wel , neither are you, Hil y.”
Miss Hil y stand up then. She point her finger to the ground. “I am about to be a politician’s wife, unless you have anything to do with it. How