Girls Like Us (5 page)

“Did you see ’em?” Biddy said.

“Who?”

Biddy look ’round all wild-eyed. Then I swear, she push down her cover and pull up her T-shirt and scrabble at her panties like she checkin’ to see that she got ’em on. Then she let out a big sigh.

I seen I still was holding that knife up like I was going to stab somebody, so I let it down. “You screamin’ ’cause you think you wet the bed?”

Biddy put her fists up to her eyes and cry like a little child. Somewhere in there, she say, “They not here. I dreamed ’em. They not here.”

It was like she was tryin’ to make her ownself believe it.

I didn’t know what to think. But I knew one thing. That girl was plumb scared to death.

Quincy didn’t holler at me for waking her up. She ask if I wet the bed. I told her I don’t pee my pants. I am scaredy of the dark. Quincy said, “Fool, get you a night-light or keep the hall light on.”

“But that runs up the ’lectricity. Granny said so,” I told her.

Quincy roll her eyes up in her head. “You paying the bills now, not Granny.”

“I can keep me a light on? So there’s no dark places in my room?”

“Long as you don’t mess around in my room, you can light this whole apartment up.” Quincy shook her head. “Guess as long as nothing needs killin’, I’ll put this knife back in the kitchen.”

She left the hall light on. And her door open.

When I wake up, I went over to Lizabeth’s house to fix breakfast. I stir up some oatmeal and found oranges and a juicer. I made the fresh juice, brew a pot of tea, and cut pears and apples and mix ’em with red grapes. I squeeze a little orange juice over the fruit. Then I made coffee. I like me some coffee in the morning. I put a blue-and-red-plaid tablecloth on the kitchen table and found white dishes with a blue stripe ’round the edges. I set ’em on the table with a white linen napkin. I run outside to pick a couple of daisy flowers I saw blooming in the side yard and ’range ’em in the skinny glass vase.

I didn’t have to call Lizabeth. She must heard me rattling ’round, and she thump in with her walker. She smile when she saw the table looking bright and purty. “Where’s your places?”

I give her my “Huh?” face.

“There’s no reason for you and Biddy to carry your food to your apartment. Please join me for breakfast.”

I didn’t understand this ole woman. Why she want two Speddies, ones she don’t know for boo or squat, sitting at her breakfast table? We just the hired help.

Biddy poke her big face in the back door.

“You’re just in time,” Lizabeth say. “Quincy is setting your places.”

Biddy smile like she pleased as punch. She come in wearing her nasty ole coat. “G’morning, Miss Lizzy. I’m ready to clean this place up proud.”

I don’t know what else to do, so I set two more places at the table and put out the food. Biddy help Lizabeth settle in her chair.

“Doesn’t this look good,” Lizabeth say.

“I didn’t know if you want tea or coffee, so I made both,” I say kinda low-like.

“I drink tea. I keep coffee in case I have a guest that likes it.”

I stay husht. I ain’t never been no guest.

She smile at us and sip her orange juice. Lizabeth start talking ’bout I can put coffee on her grocery list. And she say she would buy the food for all our meals. I open my mouth to squawk, but she turnt to look at me and said, “Is that all right with you, Quincy? I don’t want to offend you with this offer.”

She give me a “You know what I mean” look. It wasn’t no charity. It was a bonus for my good cooking. I snap my mouth shut.

Biddy was ’bout finished with her oatmeal and eyeing the fruit like it drop down from Mars. “I always have cookies and a Pepsi for breakfast.”

“And I usually have a piece of toast, so this is a treat for both of us,” Lizabeth said. She pet Biddy’s hand and Biddy glow.

Lizabeth say we’d have to work us out some menus. She say she has her groceries delivered and she would do the ordering. She ask can I bring home the fresh stuff from the Brown Cow.

I nod.

“Thank you,” Lizabeth say.

“Ain’t nothing big,” I say back.

Biddy give me her “Cain’t you be nice to nobody?” look. If that fool think somebody saying thank you mean they like you, she need to smarten up. But she been needing to smarten up since she was borned.

Then Lizabeth said, “Quincy, you can take the vegetables you like from the garden, or you can make a list and Stephen can make a basket for you on the days that he comes here.”

I guess Biddy didn’t hear, because she was still smilin’, but I got all wadded up in a worry knot. Who was Stephen?

Lizabeth tole Biddy they could set up a schedule for what need doing in the house.

Biddy nod, all happy, and set her spoon to flashing in the fruit.

“Mercy, this is good,” she say. “I never saw fruit all mix up together like this.”

“You eat what I be cookin’, ’stead of junk, you gonna lose that ole rhino hino,” I say. Even I thought my mouth sound snappish.

“Quincy.” Lizabeth said it soft, but it husht and shame me. Then she tole Biddy that she need to have good nutrition and I didn’t mean to sound so “harsh.” I guess “harsh” the same as mean. She tole Biddy I was right, and eating my good food would make her lose weight. And then she say, “Biddy, won’t you be pretty as a picture?”

Woo, I sure didn’t expect what came next. Biddy slap her spoon down and reach in her jacket and jerk out a bag of cookies. She start stuffing cookies in her mouth fast as she could chew. “No!” she yell, and bust out in tears. Bawling her lungs out and stuffing those cookies in at the same time. She shove back and run right out that kitchen.

Everything was nice till Miss Lizzy said that I was gonna be pretty. Pretty is what made it happen. I can still hear ’em whispering in my ear. “You so pretty. You body so fine. You so hot, baby.” I hear ’em in the night. I hear ’em every time a boy look at me.

Lizabeth and me stare at one another. I open my mouth to say sumpin’ and she raise her bony claw hand up like a traffic cop. I shut my mouth and sull up.

“Go on to work, Quincy. And don’t say anything to Biddy. I’ll take care of it.”

Sure. Dumb, mean Speddie only good enough to cook. Not smart enough to do much else. I know what she thinkin’. She don’t fool me with her smiling and inviting and thank-yous.

I slap out the kitchen and stomp on up our stairs. I hear Biddy in her room, blubbering into her tape maybe. I get my clothes and head for the shower-closet, and I hear Lizabeth call up from the bottom of the stairs.

“Biddy, you’ve neglected to clean the kitchen. In fact, I want all the kitchen cabinets cleaned. Could you think about tackling that today?”

I hear Biddy punch her tape off and clomp to the stairs. “You mean, take out all the dishes and such?” She snuff her nose sumpin’ awful.

“Yes, I missed spring cleaning. I’d appreciate a good top-to-bottom clean of this whole place. Starting with the kitchen.”

I wait by the bathroom door until Biddy turnt around. Her face was red and her eyes were swole but she stopped bawlin’. Lizabeth already figured out the one thing that would make Biddy feel better. Cleaning out dirt.

I got on over to Miss Lizzy’s. Pushed up my sleeves. She sat in the kitchen with me. She told me which cabinets she wanted clean. First was the pots and pans cabinets. Some pans was orangey color. They hung on a big round rack from the ceiling. I stacked all the pots and pans on the counters. I got me a bucket with cleaner and water. Scrubbed the cabinet out good. I filled the sink with soapy water. I washed and dried each pot. I tucked it back in its place.

I got four cabinets done. Lunchtime come.

Miss Lizzy had canned stew in the pantry. I knew how to fix that OK. I heat it up. I got crackers. I thought how Quincy made the table look pretty. I shook out the tablecloth from breakfast. I got fresh napkins, bowls, and spoons. Miss Lizzy told me which side for the napkin and spoon. I plunked the crackers on the table in the box. Miss Lizzy didn’t say nothing. But I know it didn’t look right. I snatched the box back up.

“There’s a lovely plate right above the bowls that might look nice for crackers,” Miss Lizzy said.

We ate stew. Miss Lizzy talked. “Tell me about yourself, Biddy. Ms. Delamino said that you lived with your grandmother.”

“Yes, ’um.”

“And your mother is still living?”

“Yes, ’um. But she don’t want me.”

Miss Lizzy reach out and squeeze my hand. “Life can be cruel sometimes, can’t it, Biddy?”

All my life, Granny told me that my mama left me behind because I was worthless. And teachers said my mama must love me very much, but felt she couldn’t give me a good life. I might be moderate retardation, but I ain’t dumb enough to believe neither.

And I for sure know what cruel means. Miss Lizzy made me feel like a regular person when she said that. She didn’t spout me no lies. She said a true thing. Life be cruel. Peoples be cruel sometimes too. I wonder how Miss Lizzy know that as good as me.