As I put the first doll down on the table, I noticed something odd when the doll's dress was raised. I peeled back the skirt and gazed with horror at what had been done. A blotch of black ink had been painted between the doll's legs where its female genitals would be. I inspected the other dolls and found either that or a chipping away of the area that had been done with some crude implement. The worst damage, however, was inflicted on the two boy dolls. They had been smashed so that their torsos ended just under their belly buttons.
I hated to think what this all possibly meant. Suddenly I heard the distinct sound of footsteps on the short stairway. I hurriedly returned the dolls to the shelf and sat on the bed just as Gladys Tate opened my door, my tray of food in her hands.
'Well,' she snapped. 'Don't just sit there waiting to be served. Come take it.'
I hopped off the bed, took the tray, and placed it on the table.
'Thank you,' I said. I pulled the chair close and sat. 'Why is that lantern on?' she asked.
'It's so dark in here with the shade drawn.'
'You're just wasting the kerosene. I can't be bringing up kerosene every day too. Use it sparingly,' she ordered, and turned it out, draping us in shadows. Nevertheless, I began to eat and drink the coffee while it was still warm.
'I see you've been looking at things already,' she said, noticing the things on the floor by the closet.
'Yes, madame. That's a very nice dollhouse, a replica of this house, isn't it?'
'My father made that for me. He was artistic,' she said, 'but he did those things only as a hobby.'
'It is a work of art. You should have it on display, downstairs.'
'I don't think I need you to tell me how to decorate my house,' she snapped. 'It belongs up here and here is where it will remain.'
'I'm sorry. I just thought you would be proud to have other people see it.'
'If you must know, it's personal. He gave it to me for my fifth birthday.' She closed her eyes as if it had been painful to explain.
'You must have loved it. I looked at the books. They're all for very small children.'
'Umm. I'll see about bringing up something more equal to your maturity. My father used to make me read Charles Dickens. He had me stand before him and read passages aloud.'
'I have read some of Charles Dickens's novels in school, yes.'
'Well, any one of them will keep you busy awhile,' she said. 'You were sufficiently quiet this morning,' she offered in a tone as close to a compliment as she could manage. 'No one noticed anything or mentioned anything to me. That's good. Keep it that way,' she commanded.
'One thing you must do, however. Rise before dawn and close the shade. It has never been up during the day, and someone will surely notice.'
'Why has it never been up?' I asked.
'It just hasn't,' she shot back. 'This room has been abandoned up until now.'
'Why?' I persisted. 'I would think your old playroom would have some nice memories for you, and you would want to keep it nice.'
'You would, would you? Who do you think you are continually offering your opinion as to what I should and shouldn't do in my house?' She flicked her stony eyes over me.
'I'm sorry,' I said. 'I didn't mean to . . .'
'Just worry about yourself. There's plenty to do there,' she said. 'I'll be right back,' she added, and left the room.
While she was gone, I finished eating. When she returned, she had a pail of water and a handful of rags in her hand.
'I brought you this so you could start cleaning this room. Do it as quietly as possible.'
'I'll need more than one pail of water, madame,' I said. She snapped her head back and lifted her shoulders as if I had slapped her.
'I know that, you fool. You'll start with this. You don't expect me to cart pail after pail of water up here, do you? Tonight you can dump this out with your chamber pot and bring up another pail of water along with your drinking water. I was just being nice giving you the first pail.'
'I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound ungrateful,' I said, which took the steel out of her spine. She didn't smile, but her eyes warmed.
'If you're finished eating, we have some very important matters to go over,' she said.
'Certainly, madame.' I turned, waiting.
She folded her arms over her chest and took a few steps toward the window. 'I, as you know, have never been pregnant. I know as much about it as any woman my age should,' she added quickly, 'but there is nothing like the actual experience. That's true about everything, I suppose, but especially true when it comes to pregnancy.'
I nodded, not sure what it was she was trying to say.
'If we are to make this work, have people believe me when I say I am pregnant, I had better behave as if I am. I know you're just about two months pregnant, right?'
'That's right, madame.'
'Well,' she said, and waited. When I didn't say anything, she snapped, 'Tell me about it.'
