Take My Hand(51)

“That’s how they do it,” Patsy said. “I was on food stamps and they made me tell them everything but the color of my panties to get them.”

“My boys get free lunch. They sit all the free lunch kids on one side of the room together like a bunch of rejects. Ain’t right,” said Dina.

“I ain’t been to the doctor in I don’t know how long. Poking and asking me private questions. They don’t care nothing about me.” Nellie stabbed the pie with a knife.

“They tried to take this house. Told me something wrong with the deed. I got my shotgun and they ain’t been back since,” said her husband.

Take take take.

The ends of my fingers itched, and I did not trust myself to open my mouth. Who knew what might come tumbling out. The children must have settled down to something, because I could no longer hear their voices or the complaints of the floor.

“But I hear you got a new job now out at the pickle factory,” Tim whispered.

“Yeah, this one here helped with that.” Mace tilted his head in my direction without looking at me. “She got Erica back in school. We finally start to see some sunshine and then this happen. What I do, God?”

“Don’t bring God into this,” said Mrs. Williams. “This ain’t got nothing to do with Him.”

“Sure ain’t.” Nellie pushed the plate of pie down the center of the table. “Them white folks give you that assistance and then act like they own you.”

Everyone got quiet again.

“Can I see it?” I said quietly. Tim slid the paper over to me, and I began to read. Lou Feldman had done it. Not only did the suit name Mrs. Seager and the clinic, but it also named the doctor who performed the surgery. The article outlined the details in Feldman’s statement: how the girls were taken from their home, how the father and grandmother, due to their illiteracy, were not fully capable of understanding what they were consenting to.

The article named me as their nurse. Good Lord, I said under my breath. Folks might think I had something to do with this, that I was the one instead of Val.

“So is there money or what?” Tim asked again. He was staring straight at me. So was everyone else.

“I don’t know,” I answered, my voice shaking. “I think right now they’re just trying to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“What good is that when it’s already happened to my nieces? Somebody need to pay!”

“Tim, that’s enough.” Nellie’s husband Leotis was the only person in the family who didn’t talk constantly. When he spoke, it had a settling effect on the room. “That lawsuit ain’t got nothing to do with us. That’s just more of the white folks’ meddling.”

I shook my head, but everyone ignored me.

“What we got to do,” Leotis said, “is step up as a family. Them girls been through enough. Pat, I want you to send them out here whenever you feel the need. It’s just me and Nellie now. All we got is this roof and our social security. Lord knows we too old to raise ’em. But we can feed ’em. And we can love on ’em. We should have done it long ago after Constance passed. But we here now.”

“Leotis, don’t be so hard on yourself. None of us could have seen this coming,” his wife said.

“I’m the one what signed the papers,” Mrs. Williams said.

“I signed them, too, Mama.”

“I’m the nurse,” I said quietly.

“Maybe . . . maybe,” Doe began.

“Maybe we just got to wait this out and see what happens.” Patsy finished her sentence.

I thought of Lou and his youthful face and innocent enthusiasm. He could not possibly understand that he held the hopes of not just this family but our entire people in his hands. I truly hoped he was not just another meddler, as the family put it. If he didn’t win this case, then I was putting them through all of this for nothing. And even if he did win it, it might be for nothing anyway. They might never get money. It was possible nothing would ever change for them.

We got on the road early the next morning because Mace had to get to work. The girls and their grandmother slept in the back seat, their heads resting on each other’s shoulders. Mace stared straight ahead out the window. I did not know what to say, so I kept my mouth shut. He was quiet for so long that I figured he had nodded off. I concentrated on driving. When he spoke, the soft sound of his voice startled me.

“Maybe if my girls could read good, they could do better than me.”

I had never heard him mention their schooling before. I’d always assumed he believed school was misplaced energy, something with limited use for poor folks in Alabama.

“You know, it’s not your fault, Mace. You doing everything you can for your family.”

“That right?” He turned his head toward me, but I kept my eyes on the road. I couldn’t look at him.

“Yes.”

“Well sometimes everything you can ain’t good enough, is it.” He paused and we turned to each other at the same time. The passing headlights of a truck illuminated his face. “Is it, Miss Civil?”





TWENTY-SEVEN





Our appointment was at 8 a.m., but India was dressed long before we needed to leave. After lounging at home for two months, she was ready to get out. I was also excited about taking her to visit her new school. When we arrived, the nun met us in the front lobby and introduced herself as Sister LaTarsha. I could not believe my eyes. The sister was a sister. Her hair was hidden beneath her habit, but her clothes were unfussy—elastic-waisted jeans and a simple pink top, clean skin covered in a veneer of sweat.