The Pecan Man(6)

I closed the door and went back down the hall toward the living room. Blanche was carrying the last sacks of groceries to the kitchen. I didn’t say a word. What could I possibly have said? I did the same thing Blanche did. I tried to force normalcy back into our world. I put the canned goods into the pantry while Blanche worked on the cold food. She closed the refrigerator door just as I came out of the pantry. Our eyes met and we froze.

Then, as I stood there trying and failing to find words of comfort or wisdom or anything that wouldn’t be dismally inadequate, I watched Blanche collapse into herself. It began with her forehead, then her eyes and mouth. Her hands flew up to cover her face, but the rest of her went down, down, down. I reached for her, but there was no way to hold her up. My rage was no match for her sorrow and we went down together.

I don’t know how long we stayed there. Long enough for Blanche’s anguished sobs to dissipate. Long enough for the room to grow dark with the setting of the sun. Long enough for Blanche’s oldest daughter to worry about her mother not being home to fix supper.





Four





The harsh jangling of the telephone brought us both to our feet. Blanche reached the phone in the hallway first, but I took it from her before she could speak.

“Hello?” My voice cracked a little.

“Miz Beckworth?” It was Patrice.

“Hey, Sugar. You worried about your mama? I shoulda called you a long time ago and I just forgot.” I forced cheer into my voice and rushed on before she could respond. “Blanche isn’t feeling too well, honey. I’m just gonna put her in the guest room and have her stay the night. You’re all right there, aren’t you? Can you get the others fed okay? How old are you now? Sixteen, isn’t it?”

“Yes’m, I’ll be seventeen next month. And we done had supper, but… Is Mama okay?”

“She’s just feelin’ a little poorly, but she’ll be fine. I think she ate something that didn’t agree with her.”

“Is Grace all right there, too? Do you want me to come get her?”

“No, that’s okay. She’s already asleep, so she’ll stay here, too.”

“I didn’t mean for her to stay the whole day over there. She drew Mama a picture at school and was just set on takin’ it straight to her. I thought Mama’d send her right on back home and I’ve kinda been worried about her. I hope she hasn’t been botherin’ you.”

“Lord, child, Grace is no bother. Don’t you worry a bit. Your mama will call you tomorrow mornin’ to check on y’all, okay?”

“I don’t know, Miz Ora. I really think I oughta talk to Mama about it. Can she come to the phone?”

“Well,” I hesitated, “not right this minute, but I can have her call you in a little bit if it’s not too urgent.” Blanche reached for the phone and I turned away tugging the receiver close to my ear.

“Well...I just need to know what she wants me to do. You sure she’s okay?”

I could hear the concern in her voice. It bordered on panic.

“She’s fine, Patrice. I’ll have her call you. Bye!”

I hung up before she could say another word. That was not one of my finer performances I’m sure, but I didn’t want Blanche to talk to anyone until we’d had a chance to talk about Grace.

“I cain’t leave my children overnight, Miz Ora.”

“Patrice is no child, Blanche.”

“I ain’t never left ‘em alone all night.”

“I’m well aware of that,” I said. “Tell you the truth, I don’t know how you’ve done half the things you’ve done by yourself since Luther died.”

“It’s been six years now, I’m ‘bout used to it. And Patrice helps me.”

“What do you reckon Luther’d want you to do about this thing with Grace?”

Blanche squared her shoulders and sucked in a long breath.

“Luther woulda landed hisself in jail or worse over ‘this thing’. I never thought I’d say it, but it’s prolly good he ain’t here to deal with it now. The way I see it, they ain’t a thing we can do that wouldn’t make it worse than it already is.”

“Not even calling the police?”

“Huh,” Blanche grunted. “Especially not callin’ the police.”

“You can’t believe that, Blanche.”

“It ain’t the same for you, Miz Ora. You jes’ go’n have to trust me on this one.”

Part of me knew she was dead right, but it wasn’t something I wanted to admit. Not to her, anyway.

“Surely we’re not still living in that kind of world…” I trailed off helplessly.

“What kind of world is that, Miz Ora? What do you think would happen to my girl - hell, to my whole family - if we went to the police with this?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but she went on.

"I'll tell you what would happen. They'd take my baby down to the hospital and they'd do their jobs, but they ain't no way she'd understand. She'd just feel like they was doin' things to her all over again. Meanwhile -“

“Blanche.”

“Meanwhile,” she nearly shouted over me, “they'd act like she couldn't hear a word they said, but she'd hear all right. She'd hear them call her a liar, even if they didn't actually use that word. And they'd make her feel dirty, 'cause they think she's dirty."