Take My Hand(88)

I thought about all the things I could have done differently, but everything that went through my mind toppled into some other unforeseen mistake I had never considered. I could have applied to medical school instead of coming back to Montgomery to work in the clinic. I could have notified someone as soon as I found out about the Depo. I could have gone to the girls’ house that morning instead of waiting until the afternoon. I could have left the case alone.

Maybe the verdict hadn’t changed anything at all.

On the third morning, the only thing that made me get out of bed was India. I needed to take her to school, but when I woke her, she seemed to be just as unrested as I was. I got her into the bathroom to brush her teeth, only to return and find her standing in front of the mirror with the dry toothbrush in her hand. I thought she might be ill, so I asked Daddy to check her. He said he did not believe it was a medical problem, said the school understood her disability better. He urged me to take her to Sister LaTarsha. Some ailments are not meant for a medical degree, he told me.

I helped snap her bra and wrestled a shirt over her head. “I’m sure Erica will be back soon. Now, I made some toast and boiled us some eggs. There’s marmalade, too. Let’s get something in our bellies.”

In the kitchen, it was dark. I turned on the light and opened the curtains. I had been preparing meals since I was younger than India. I would have to make food when Mama slept late. Before school it was toast, jelly, and a boiled egg. In winter, oatmeal. After school, I emptied beans from the can and spread them on toast, placed a slice of cheese on top, and put it in the oven until the cheese melted. I wasn’t a cook like Mrs. Williams, but I understood how to make food that kids liked. India’s appetite was still good. That relieved me.

“You want some more toast?”

She didn’t respond. When Erica was around, she answered for India. This forced separation probably had India feeling like half of herself was missing.

After I dropped India at school, I drove to their apartment. A police detective was there taking another statement from Mrs. Williams, and from the look on her face I thought the grandmother might curse someone if she had to answer one more question. She wasn’t a cursing woman, but I had never seen her look so tired.

“I think she’s done for the day,” I said.

I tried to think of any other friends Erica had mentioned. There were only two names that came to mind—Dinesha and Tonya—and they’d already been questioned. Erica’s picture was in the paper. Some of the kids gathered outside the school each morning asking one another if anyone had heard from her. Everyone was doing everything they could.

The detective wore a badge tucked into his front shirt pocket. The notebook rested untouched in his lap, and he sat with his hands folded over his paunch.

“I have three girls myself, Mrs. Williams.”

She rubbed her hands together, as if she were washing them under water.

“Is there anything you have forgotten to tell us? Is there a . . . boyfriend?”

I drew back. He had probably been waiting to ask that question the entire time. I wanted to cry because secretly, I had started to entertain such a possibility. Erica was getting older. Surely she was starting to have crushes. I thought of the lipstick she had started to wear. I had even bought her a new tube after throwing away the dirty one she had found.

“I said that’s enough.”

“It’s alright, Civil. No boyfriend,” Mrs. Williams said. Her voice sounded listless and faraway.

“Alright.” He tightened his hands over his belly. “Have you taken any special trips?”

“Special trips?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, suddenly remembering. “I took them to the beach.”

“Which beach?”

“Down in the Panhandle.”

It was too far, but maybe she had hitched a ride? She might not have realized how far it was. I thought back to a night when I’d gone over her math homework with her. Her reading skills were still behind, but she’d been revealing a talent with numbers. She already knew her times tables, learning them so quickly that the teacher had moved her on to simple division. She was such an intelligent girl. I hoped that intelligence was helping her survive whatever she was going through.

The detective didn’t write anything down, just studied my face for a few long seconds. I got the impression he was wondering about my role in this. I was their nurse, not family.

After he left, I helped Mrs. Williams straighten the room. If I kept my hands busy, I could endure the slow ticking of the clock. Mrs. Williams told me to leave. I knew she wanted to be alone, but I didn’t want to be alone. I could go talk to Lou about the verdict, but what did it even mean if something had happened to Erica? I was hungry again, the toast barely making a dent in my stomach. I could go talk to Irene at the diner. It had been so long since she and I had been friends. Alicia was at work. Ty was out searching. I wanted to hug Mrs. Williams, share in this burden with her. Who else loved those girls the way she, Mace, and I did? It was something rare to share such devotion over another human being. I perched on the arm of the sofa; it was a rude way to sit, but I wasn’t thinking about that.

“Civil.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“How’s your mother?”

I didn’t say anything. I had spoken to her twice in the weeks she’d been gone. I had not really missed her before then, but I sure needed her now. I needed her to come home and help me through this.