Lies We Bury(23)

We nod.

Mama Rosemary makes a face. “All right, well, let me see you make two more. You each need one. One for each sister.”

“I forget the song though,” Twin says all whiny. “Why are we doing this? How much longer do we have to?”

“Less questions, more bracelet braiding. I’m sure your sisters can help you. Right, girls?” Mama Rosemary looks at Sweet Lily and me. So I know she really means me.

“Right,” I say. I scooch over to Twin and hold the three threads in my hand. Twin takes them and spreads them out then she looks at me not sure what comes next.

“The baker goes for flour.” Twin moves the left one over the middle one.

“He’s gone for an hour.” She moves the right one back over the first two.

“He bakes what he wants.” Twin takes the new right one and puts it in the middle again.

“A big fat croissant.” Then she takes the left one and puts it back in the middle.

She holds up her end of the bracelet and it’s exactly like Mama Rosemary taught us from her Girl Pouch days.

“We made a croissant!” I laugh then stop laughing. “Mama Rosemary, what’s a croissant?”

Her mouth moves up and she looks happy. “It’s kind of like a buttery bread . . . treat. When we get out of here, you’ll all have one.”

“Three croissants?” Twin asks.

She nods and looks sad again. “One for each of you to match your bracelets. Now, hurry up with the last one so you can nap. You need rest for tonight.”

We finish number three and singing the song. Then Twin and Sweet Lily get into the bed and I get in beside them. Sweet Lily is in the middle. I always like to sleep on the left side not touching the middle where the big brown stain is. Mama Rosemary tried to scrub it off years ago but it’s still there. After a minute both sisters’ breathing turns to easy and deep. I slip out of bed. I walk into the main room where Mama Rosemary is sewing a hole in my pants.

Each of us has two pants that we wear three days a week then we switch to the other pants for four days. Our shirts are more between us because we all share T-shirts. I like Mama Rosemary’s old shirt to sleep in that’s a pattern she calls plaid. I have five underpants to wear. But pretty soon I’m gonna have to give them to Sweet Lily because they’re getting so small and hurting my thighs. Mama Rosemary has a lot of laundry to do but now I help because I’m big enough. Twin has been helping for a while longer because she grew faster than me and could lean over the bathtub without falling in.

“What is my sweet girl doing out of bed?” Mama Rosemary whispers. She lifts her eyes to mine and smiles but raises a finger to her mouth. So I know to keep quiet.

“I want to help you,” I whisper back. We both stop and listen if the other girls woke up any. Twin is snoring.

“You should be sleeping,” she says and lifts me onto her lap. “Oof. You’re getting too big for this, you know.” But she doesn’t make me get down. Instead she tucks a finger around my hair and kisses my head. “We’ve got to make the most of our time left to us. Who knows what the world will be like once we get out there?”

I shiver and huddle into Mama Rosemary’s neck. “Do you think someone . . . a man . . . will take me away from you?”

She pulls back to look at me. She lifts my chin with her pointer until I have to look up, too. “That’s not going to happen. I won’t let it.” Her voice is almost like she’s angry but her eyes get wet and shiny. “I won’t let it. You believe me?”

I believe her.

“Good. Now, how do you think your sister managed to tear a hole in the front and the back of the knee of her pants?” Mama Rosemary wipes her eyes then picks up the jeans she’s sewing.

I shrug. Leaning into her neck again I feel safe. Like nothing could tear me from this spot. “I don’t know. Twin is always making trouble.”

Mama Rosemary makes a soft sound and I don’t recognize her usual laugh. Heh-heh. “Your twin is a rambunctious one—full of energy, I mean,” she adds when I lift my head again.

Last week Twin kicked and kicked and kicked the dirt wall screaming and crying because she wanted to go upstairs to the outside and away from the man. He only visits three times a week at night on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and always to see Mama Rosemary and the Murphy. Sweet Lily and I just covered our ears and looked at each other while Mama Rosemary had to rock Twin in her arms like Twin was a baby for an hour afterward.

“That’s for sure,” I whisper in a grumble. “And she’s always asking too many questions.”

Heh-heh. That same laugh again. She touches my nose. Boop. “All right, let’s get down to work, shall we? If you’re awake, you can help me finish the rope. You’re almost as good as I am at it.”

I smile so big my ears jump. “Yes, Mama.”

She pulls out the ball from behind the sink, all squished against the wall. “All right. Show me how you add on to it.”

I let it roll on the ground until I find the end. “Sheet?”

“Oh yes.” Mama pulls out the Mama Bethel sheet from where it’s flat under the storage bin. Mama Rosemary says it’s cut to ribbons and bits. What’s left of it looks like long hair or fingers waving hello.

I rip off three long bits then tie them to the rope ends. I do the over-under, over-under that Mama Rosemary taught us for making bracelets. Only, the rope has to be tight tight. I’m the best at making bracelets.