Read The Mighty Miss Malone Online
Authors: Christopher Paul Curtis
“Deza, we’ll send her a telegram soon’s we leave Doc’s. We’ll let her know you’re safe with me and see how long it’s gonna take Doc to fix you up, then I’ll put you on a bus back to Flint. Ma’ll be all right. Besides, I don’t see you for all this time, then you come here and expect to leave me after only two days? My Mighty Miss Malone would never be so unconsiderate.”
I moved my hands back and forth like they were on the steering wheel of a car.
Jimmie laughed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. It’s the Manipula-Mobile, but I’m not letting you go.”
He opened a door and walked in. I looked inside but didn’t move.
“Trust me on this.” He reached out to me. I took his hand and let him pull me inside. I only did it because something was telling me that Jimmie and the dentist weren’t joshing. Anything that hurt this bad really could kill you.
I only did it because of that. And because I
can
trust my brother.
I know I said you can’t read what a person or a house is like by the way they look, and that’s mostly true. But some people have kindness and gentleness wrapped around them like a blanket and there’s no doubting who they are. Jimmie’s Dr. Mitwally was that way.
That’s the only reason I didn’t run when he told me to sit in a strange, horrible chair with a big light over it. The chair was like something that Jimmie would sit in when he drove his rocket ship to the moon.
Jimmie took my hand. “Hey, Doc, I wanna save a little money on this, so instead of using that numbing stuff, do you have a washrag she can bite down on whilst you fix her up?”
Dr. Mitwally said, “I can knock a little more off the bill if
I use a pair of pliers and hammer instead of any of this fancy dental equipment.”
I was so nervous that I couldn’t laugh at their jokes.
But once I sat all the way back in the chair it was a miracle! My teeth stopped hurting!
Before I could let them know, Dr. Mitwally said, “Open wide, Deza.”
Dr. Mitwally didn’t say anything then but Jimmie’s face twisted.
The doctor poked around in my mouth, shooting red lights of hurt into my scalp.
He said over and over, “Sorry, sorry, sorry …” Each time he did, more lights flashed.
The doctor said, “We need to get these X-rayed. Come in the next room with me, please.”
Jimmie took my hand and we followed the doctor.
We finished taking the X-rays. Then me and Jimmie went back to the rocket chair. I sat and he held my hand.
After a while the doctor came back in and said, “I’ve seen worse, you’re going to lose a few, I’ll be able to give you some relief immediately, but there are some things that are going to take more time.”
Jimmie said, “You know I’m good for anything, Doc, just fix her up, please.”
“We’re talking about months of work, James.”
“She’s gotta go to school in Flint, but we’ll get her here, Doc.”
Dr. Mitwally said, “I can recommend a good dentist in
Flint.” He smiled at me. “You are one tough cookie, my dear, I can’t believe how you’re able to think, much less excel in school. By the way, don’t let him know, but everybody’s sick and tired of hearing Jimmie brag about how smart his baby sister is. You’ll feel a hundred times better when you leave here, and once you get everything taken care of you’ll be as good as new. Now wipe those tears and let’s get to work. You’re going to feel a little pinch.” The needle he’d been hiding behind his back came at my mouth, and then he put a little triangle-shaped mask over my nose and mouth.
Jimmie said, “Sweet dreams, sis,” and that was it. The next thing I knew I was floating out of the office, getting into a taxicab with Jimmie and trying to talk.
“Deza, your mouth’s all swole up. Just try to sleep.”
“Bud Musser? Wud abows musser?”
“I sent Ma a telegram, she’s gonna pick you up from the bus tomorrow. Doc said you were a real soldier. I told him he wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know.”
For some reason that was very funny and I started saluting.
Jimmie saluted back. “Time to fall out, General.”
I woke up crying. It felt like a million little metal mice were chewing on my gums.
Jimmie came into the room with a glass of water and a little brown bottle. “Doc said you might feel pretty bad once the numbing wore off. He said take these.”
I swallowed the two little pills and drank the water. It was like I was swallowing fire.
Jimmie held my hand. “It hurts for a while, Deza, shoot, even I cried like a baby.”
I wanted to say, “Not
you
, Jimmie!” But sleeping seemed like a much easier thing to do.
The bus from Detroit got to Flint in no time, not that I was noticing much. The pills Jimmie gave me made everything foggy and far-off seeming.
I got off the bus and Mother kissed me. “Deza, what did they do to your face?”
I hugged her and we both cried. “Jimmie got my teeth fixed up, I’ll feel better in a few days.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I can’t wait for you to feel better because the minute you do I’m pulling those teeth out one by one with a pair of pliers. Do you have any idea how much I’ve worried?”
“Yes, but I knew I’d find Jimmie. I’d do it all over again.”
As we walked home Mother asked me a million questions about Jimmie, had he grown, was he eating, did he look healthy, did he seem happy? My head was spinning so much and my answers were so short that she finally said, “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
I said, “That’s fine, Mother, but you can write to him at the New Turned Leaf. He wrote the address down for me.” I don’t remember anything after that.
Once all the swelling went down I felt so different!
I started chewing all of my food instead of biting it a couple of times with my front teeth before swallowing it, and everything
tasted as good as one of Dr. Bracy’s pies! Dr. Mitwally gave me the name of a dentist in Flint that I was going to have to go to, but once I saw how good this made me feel I couldn’t wait!
It looked like the Malones had finally used up all of their three pieces of bad news. The only thing that wasn’t perfect was school. And Father. And Jimmie not being here.
I had to hide my first terrible Flint report card from Mother. I didn’t care, though, Flint teachers were so unfair. I’d gotten As on every test I’d taken but when the report card came it was all C pluses and a C in English. The teachers all wrote the same thing, I was a good student but didn’t participate in class. Mother never asked to see the card, but I’d always showed her my exams so she didn’t know anything was wrong.
The letters from Father came like clockwork.
Every two weeks he’d send ten or twenty dollars and a note telling about how his hand was getting better. He was still working as a traveling carpenter, mostly in cities geologically located in the South. The letters came from Jacksonville, Florida; New York City; Washington, D.C.; Baltimore, Maryland; and Atlanta, Georgia.
It all ended one Friday in May when I went into the post office and Mrs. James said, “Sorry, Deza, there’s no letter today.”
I wasn’t going to let it bother me too much, Father’s letters had been late a couple of times.
But Mrs. James laughed and said, “But there is a package!”
She waved a box at me.
It was from Father!
I said, “Mrs. James, you like teasing so much you could be one of the Malones.”
She said, “Why, thank you, Miss Malone, it would be an honor to be in your family.”
I hadn’t meant it as a compliment.
The package was addressed to Mother only. It was postmarked from Jacksonville, Florida. I’m really growing up, I was able to walk all the way home without opening it. I set it on the kitchen table and waited.
Mother did the same thing I did when I first touched the package, she shook it, held it to her ear, then turned it over and over before shaking it again.
“Something’s rattling in there, Deza, what do you think it is?”
“Gold?”
Mother laughed. “Well, if it is we shouldn’t waste another second.”
I screamed, “Mother!” as my Indiana mother tore at the package Flint style.
She laughed and finally got the paper off.
She said, “Here goes …” and opened the lid of a blue cardboard box.
Inside was a envelope, a letter and two keys held together by a piece of wire.
I took the keys and Mother read,
“Dear Peg and Deza
,
I told you. When one of the Malones gives you their word, we keep it. These keys are for 541 Jackson Street in a beautiful city in
Indiana called Gary. I have paid the rent for six months and you can move in at the beginning of June. My hand is still injured and I am still traveling and working. I have sent some extra for your move. I will still send money. Take care of each other
.
Love,
Father”
“Oh, Mother, he did it! Father did it! When do we leave?”
I opened the cash envelope. There were three tens and a five inside!
Mother looked befumbled. “As soon as school is over, Deza. I do miss Gary.”