The Pecan Man(7)

"Blanche, no..."

"Then the police would come askin' questions she couldn't answer. They'd do they damnedest to trip her up and it would! By the time they got done with her, she’d be doubtin' she was even my baby."

"But, I won't let that happen, Blanche. I wouldn't leave your side for a minute. I know Chief Kornegay! He would never let them get away with…"

"Chief Kornegay?! That just shows how much you don’t know. It was Ralph Kornegay's son did this to Grace. He raped her, Miz Ora! He full out raped my baby and then he laughed in her face!"

"Oh, sweet Jesus," I moaned and turned away from her. I couldn’t seem to breathe. I clutched at the front of my blouse, but my hands were trembling and the fabric slipped from my fingers. Blanche went on.

"And what if somebody did believe her? What if they did send that boy to jail for what he did? He's still in high school. Worst that would happen to him is goin' to reform school and what good would that do? What do you think would happen to Gracie at school then? They would torment her, that's what would happen."

I covered my ears with both hands and turned toward the living room.

"Okay, Blanche, okay. I understand..."

"No, you don't understand, Miz Ora! You don’t understand at all. It wouldn't just be hard on her. It would never be safe for her again. Sooner or later, somebody would want revenge, if not before that boy got out, for sho' after he got out. I ain't puttin' her through it, do you hear me? I ain't!"

"I hear you, Blanche," I said. "I hear you, and Lord help me, you’re probably right, but we can't just let it go. If he did this to Gracie, he'd do it to any child. We have to do something. We can't just sit here and do nothing."

Blanche put her hands on her hips and looked at me like I didn't have good sense.

“I need time to think, Miz Ora. Until then, nothin’ is exactly what we go’n do.”

I woke up early the next morning. Truth is, I barely slept at all. I peeked into the guest room at six a.m. and Blanche was sleeping soundly with her arms wrapped tightly around her youngest child.

I went to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. I put some bacon in a cast iron skillet and pulled what was left of yesterday morning's biscuits from the bread basket on the kitchen counter. I decided to fry the biscuits in butter and scramble a few eggs once the bacon was done. I wasn't hungry. I just needed something to do.

A half hour later Blanche came down the hall looking like she'd never gone to bed. Grace was beside her, still half asleep, but Blanche had obviously cleaned her up a bit. Blanche pulled out a dining room chair and deposited the child in it. Grace promptly put her head down on the table and went back to sleep.

"How you feelin'?" I regretted the question as soon as I asked it. Blanche didn't answer.

"Want some coffee? I made some bacon and eggs, too."

"I cain't eat nothin', Miz Ora."

"Yeah, neither could I."

Blanche shuffled over to the coffee pot and poured a cup. She added milk and sugar and stood at the kitchen counter to drink her coffee. She didn't speak for several minutes.

When the silence got too heavy, I reached out and touched her arm.

“Blanche?”

She didn’t look up, and almost whispered when she finally spoke.

“She woke up cryin’ in the middle of the night.”

I thought my heart would shatter right there - just burst into a thousand tiny shards of glass and spill out between my ribs.

“Blanche...”

“I told her it was just a dream,” she said. “Just a really bad dream - that it never happened at all.”

“Dear, Lord…” I whispered.

“And then I prayed He’d forgive me for lyin’ to my baby like that.”

I offered lamely, "We're gonna get through this, Blanche."

"I reckon we are." She didn't sound convinced.

"I want you to do something for me and I won't take no for an answer." Silence.

"I want you to let Grace come here after school for a while. She can ride the bus right down to the corner and you can meet her there every day.”

Blanche brought her coffee to her usual place at the table and sat heavily in her chair. She gave me a look that I took to mean she was going to object. I plowed ahead.

“Now, I know what you’re going to say and I’m telling you, the child won’t be any trouble. It’s just for a couple of hours a day and besides, I could use the company.”

Blanche coughed and stared at her cup.

“I was up all night thinking about this, Blanche. I’m here with you every day. You know my routines and I know yours. Hell, I know what you’re thinking half the time, but I don’t know your children.”

“What’re you talkin’ about, Miz Ora? You know my kids.”

I waved my hands at her.

“Oh, I know little things about them from the stories you tell. I know Marcus is at Fort Bragg now. I know Patrice is your studious child, your rock, the one who holds the family together when you’re gone. I know the twins are boy-crazy and working on giving you gray hair and I know that Grace will never be the same again, but what I don’t know is who she was before this awful thing happened to her and I don’t know why I don’t know.”