The Pecan Man (4 page)

“
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."

"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.
U
ntil 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.
”

I stopped and drew a
deep breath. I did know why. I knew exactly why and so did Blanche. It made me
sick with grief and shame.

Blanche straightened her
back and sat tall in her chair. Her face was set in a way that said her
decision was made. I could
argue
until
I was blue in the face and it would
not
change
her answer. In the brief seconds before she spoke I actually felt relieved. It
was one thing to recognize myself as a fraud. It was another thing entirely to
do something about it. I could console myself with the knowledge that I tried
to change it, but
the truth was, I was glad
that Blanche would refuse my gesture. It somehow made sense that she
wouldn’t
want my help with Grace.

Blanche stood and looked
out the window for a moment.

“
I
’
m
keeping Grace out of school for a week or so.
I’ll
make
arrangements to
change her bus route
when I call the principal about her schoolwork.
”

I sat in stunned silence
for a moment before I managed a shaky,
“
Good.
Then that
’
s settled.
”

Blanche cleared her
empty cup off the table and started in on the dishes. I took my coffee to the
front porch.

I had never questioned
my benevolence before. I was raised on the Scriptures. I knew what Jesus said
about doing
“
unto the least of these
”
.
Doing a kind thing was part of my nature and wasn
’
t
it a kind thing to allow Blanche
’
s child
to stay with her every day? So why, suddenly, did it seem as if the gift had
come from Blanche?

Grace woke up thirty
minutes later. She wandered onto the porch with her hair stuck straight out on
one side and a crease on her cheek where it had rested on the table. She stared
at me for a moment, then climbed into my lap as if she had sat there a hundred
times before.

“
Mama
said to come keep you company.
”

I patted her leg and we
sat
quietly
watching the squirrels in the pecan trees
until
Blanche came to get Grace to take a bath. While she was in the tub, I walked to
the JC Penney store downtown and bought a new outfit, complete with shoes and
socks, for Grace. I came home to find Grace wrapped in a huge towel, sitting on
the bed in the guest room. Blanche was rolling up Grace
’
s
soiled clothing and putting it into a paper sack.

“
What
are you going to do with those?
”
I asked. I think part
of me still hoped she
’
d call the police. I couldn
’
t
imagine not reporting such a horrible violation as Gracie had endured.

“
I
’
m
not sure,
”
she replied.

“
Don
’
t
wash them yet.
”
I said, and prepared for the backlash I
was sure would come.

“
Hadn
’
t
planned on it,
”
Blanche said.

Five

It was amazing how quickly things went back to normal, if
you can ever call your life normal after such an event has taken place. Blanche
told Grace that her ordeal had been nothing more than a bad dream. It’s not how
I’d have handled it, but that’s probably not saying much under the
circumstances.

As October settled in, Eddie
stopped mowing my dormant St. Augustine grass and spent his time raking leaves,
gathering pecans and mulching my flower beds with pine straw. A home as old as
mine needed frequent upkeep and there were always odd jobs to do. Eddie seemed
grateful for the extra money and completed each task with extraordinary care.
He generally showed up early and left before Grace got off the bus in the
afternoon.

Grace settled into her new
routine and easily made herself at home, despite Blanche’s frequent admonitions
to mind her manners and stay out of my hair. Blanche needn’t have worried and I
told her so. Grace was precocious and curious, but not at all destructive and I
enjoyed her company more than her mama would have imagined. She turned out to
be a blessing, in more ways than one.