The Help

maybe things is happening just how they should.”

“Really?”

Minny kind a laugh. “Lord, I’m starting to sound like you, ain’t I? Must be getting old.”

I poke her with my foot. But I try to understand where Minny’s coming from. We done something brave and good here. And Minny, maybe she don’t want a be deprived a any a the things that go along with being brave and good. Even the bad. But I can’t pick up on the calm she feeling.

Minny looks back down at her paper but after a little while, I can tell she ain’t reading. She just staring at the words, thinking about something else. Somebody’s car door slam next door and she jump. And I see it then, the worry she’s trying to hide. But why? I wonder. Why she hiding that from me?

The more I look, the more I start to understand what’s going on here, what Minny’s done. I don’t know why I’m just now getting this. Minny made us put the pie story in to protect us. Not to protect herself, but to protect me and the other maids. She knew it would only make it worse for herself with Hilly. But she did it anyway, for everbody else. She don’t want anybody to see how scared she is.

I reach over and squeeze her hand. “You a beautiful person, Minny.”

She roll her eyes and stick her tongue out like I handed her a plate a dog biscuits. “I knew you was getting senile,” she say.

We both chuckle. It’s late and we so tired, but she get up and refill her coffee and fix me a cup a tea and I drink it slow. We talk late into the night.

THE NEXT DAY, SATURDAY, we all in the house, the whole Leefolt family plus me. Even Mister Leefolt home today. My book ain’t setting on the bedside table no more. For a while, I don’t know where she put it. Then I see Miss Leefolt’s pocketbook on the sofa, and she got it tucked inside. Means she carried it with her somewhere. I peek over and see the bookmark’s gone.

I want to look in her eyes and see what she know, but Miss Leefolt stay in the kitchen most a the day trying to make a cake. Won’t let me in there to help. Say it’s not like one a my cakes, it’s a fancy recipe she got out the Gourmet magazine. She hosting a luncheon tomorrow for her church and the dining room’s stacked up with party serving stuff. She done borrowed three chafing dishes from Miss Lou Anne and eight settings a Miss Hilly’s silver cause they’s fourteen people coming and God forbid any a them church folk got to use a regular ole metal fork.

Li’l Man be in Mae Mobley’s bedroom playing with her. And Mister Leefolt pacing round the house. Time to time he stop in front a Baby Girl’s bedroom, then go to pacing again. Probably thinks he should be playing with his kids with it being Saturday, but I reckon he don’t know how.

So that don’t leave a whole lot a places for me to go. It’s only two o’clock but I already done cleaned the house down to the nubs, polished the bathrooms, washed the clothes. I ironed everthing short a the wrinkles on my face. Been banned from the kitchen and I don’t like Mister Leefolt thinking all I do is set around playing with the kids. Finally I just start wandering round too.

When Mister Leefolt dawdling around the dining room, I peek in and see Mae Mobley got a paper in her hand, teaching Ross something new. She love to play school with her little brother.

I go in the living room, start dusting the books for the second time. I guess I ain’t gone get to tell her my in-case goodbye today, with this crowd around.

“We’re gonna play a game,” I hear Mae Mobley call out to her brother. “Now you sit up at the counter cause you’re at the Woolworf’s and you’re colored. And you got to stay there no matter what I do or you go to jail.”

I go to her bedroom fast as I can, but Mister Leefolt’s already there, watching at the door. I stand behind him.

Mister Leefolt cross his arms up over his white shirt. Cock his head to the side. My heart’s beating a thousand miles a hour. I ain’t never once heard Mae Mobley mention our secret stories out loud to anybody except me. And that’s when her mama ain’t home and they ain’t nobody but the house to hear. But she so thick in what she doing, she don’t know her daddy’s listening.

“Okay,” Mae Mobley say and she guide his wobbly self up on the chair. “Ross, you gotta stay there at the Woolworf counter. No getting up.”

I want to speak, but I can’t get nothing to come out my mouth. Mae Mobley be tippy-toeing up behind Ross, pour a box a crayons on his head, and they clatter down. Li’l Man frown, but she look at him stern, say, “You can’t move. You got to be brave. And no violets.” Then she stick her tongue out at him and start pinging him with baby doll shoes and Li’l Man look at her like Why am I putting up with this nonsense? and he crawl off the chair with a whine.

“You lose!” she says. “Now come on, we’re playing Back-a-the-Bus and your name is Rosa Parks.”

“Who taught you those things, Mae Mobley?” Mister Leefolt say and Baby Girl whip her head around with eyes like she seed a ghost.

I feel my bones go soft on me. Everthing say go in there. Make sure she don’t get in trouble, but I can’t breathe enough to go. Baby Girl look right at me standing behind her daddy, and Mister Leefolt turn around and see me, then turn back round to her.

Mae Mobley stare up at her daddy. “I don’t know.” She looks off at a board game laying on the floor, like she might get to playing it again. I seen her do that, I know what she thinking. She think if she get busy with something else and ignore him, he might just go away.

“Mae Mobley, your daddy asked you a question. Where did you learn about things like that?” He bend down to her. I can’t see his face, but I know he smiling cause Mae Mobley all shylike, all Baby Girl loves her daddy. And then she say loud and clear:

“Miss Taylor did.”

Mister Leefolt straighten up. Goes into the kitchen and I’m following. He turns Miss Leefolt around by the shoulders and says: “Tomorrow. You go down to that school and put Mae Mobley in a different class. No more Miss Taylor.”

“What? I can’t just change her teacher—”

I hold my breath, pray, Yes, you can. Please.

“Just do it.” And like mens do, Mister Raleigh Leefolt walk out the door where he don’t have to give nobody no explanation about nothing.

All DAY SUNDAY, I can’t stop thanking God for getting Baby Girl away from Miss Taylor. Thank you God, thank you God, thank you God rings in my head like a chant. On Monday morning, Miss Leefolt head off to Mae Mobley’s school, all dressed up, and I have to smile, knowing what she going off to do.

While Miss Leefolt’s gone, I get to work on Miss Hilly’s silver. Miss Leefolt’s got it laid out on the kitchen table from the luncheon yesterday. I wash it and spend the next hour polishing it, wondering how one-arm Ernestine do it. Polishing Grand Baroque with all its loops and curls is a two-arm job.

When Miss Leefolt get back, she put her purse up on the table and tsk. “Oh, I meant to return that silver this morning but I had to go to Mae Mobley’s school and I just know she’s getting a cold because she was sneezing all morning long and now it’s almost ten o’clock . . .”

“Mae Mobley getting sick?”

“Probably.” Miss Leefolt roll her eyes. “Oh, I’m late for my hair appointment. When you’re finished polishing, go ahead and walk that silver on over to Hilly’s for me. I’ll be back after lunch.”

When I’m done, I wrap all a Miss Hilly’s silver up in the blue cloth. I go get Li’l Man out a bed. He just woke up from his nap and he blink at me and smile.

“Come on, Li’l Man, let’s get you a new diaper.” I put him up on the changing table and take off the wet one and Lord almighty if there ain’t three tinker toys and one a Miss Leefolt’s bobby pins in there. Thank the Lord it was just a wet diaper and not the other.

“Boy,” I laugh, “you like Fort Knox.” He grin and laugh. He point at the crib and I go over and poke through the blanket and sho nuff, there’s a hair roller, a measuring spoon, and a dinner napkin. Law, we gone have to do something about this. But not now. I got to get over to Miss Hilly’s.

I lock Li’l Man in the stroller and push him down the street over to Miss Hilly’s house. It’s hot and sunny and quiet. We stroll up her drive and Ernestine open the door. She got a skinny little brown nub that poke out the left sleeve. I don’t know her well, except she like to talk a fair amount. She go to the Methodist church.