“What track?”
“The racetrack. When I was living in New York with Mama and Manny. Manny said I knew how to pick ’em. I won nearly two thousand dollars total, the trifecta twice. Course, Manny had to place the bets for me, ’cause I wasn’t old enough.”
“Or tall enough to reach the window,” he said. “So tell me, have you had kids yet?”
“I’m waiting till I’m married.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“So, is it a bet?”
“What did you do with all your money?”
“Spent it.”
“On what?”
“Things,” I told him. Most of my winnings had gone to pay past-due bills and rent on places one step up from a dump. Not to mention what Mama and her friends had “borrowed” from me before I’d learned to hide my winnings better. “I’ve always paid my own way, so don’t worry.”
Henry stared at me as if he was trying unsuccessfully to add me up on his mental calculator. “You said this fifty-dollar cat is a he. How do you know?”
“Double or nothin’?”
“How?” he insisted.
“You don’t need to get close. Just like you don’t need to get close to a man or a woman to tell which is which.”
“I’ve been fooled on occasion.” He lifted his eyebrows and made a you-wouldn’t-believe-some-of-the-things-I’ve-seen face, and I had to chuckle.
Our conversation had attracted the attention of other shoppers. A good-sized crowd had gathered at one end of the aisle. They were craning around the canned goods, whispering to each other. The pitying way they looked at me was familiar, but I had the impression from how they looked at Henry that they didn’t know what to make of him at all.
“Why are they staring at us like that?” I whispered.
“Small town,” Henry said. “Fred usually does the shopping.”
“Who’s Fred?”
“You’ll meet him tomorrow. He helps me take care of things around the place.”
I turned to the people at the end of the aisle and shouted, “Y’all don’t have to worry. He’s not dangerous during the day.”
For the first time since I’d met Henry Royster, he smiled, showing a gap between his two front teeth exactly like mine.
“I’ll be,” I said, staring at it. “We really are related.”
The other shoppers looked away or wandered off, their invisible tails between their legs, except for one old lady in a black-and-white-striped dress who stood her ground, skunk-like.
Henry swore under his breath, full serious again.
I made a U-turn and headed for the detergents, Henry hard behind. “Extra strength,” I said, looking at his nasty jeans.
He reached absently for an orange plastic bottle on the middle shelf, but I whispered, “They test on animals. Blue bottle,” and pointed to a brand on a lower shelf. Henry obliged.
“You like animals,” he said, some warmer.
“Their love’s purer,” I said.
“Than?”
“People’s. That’s what Mrs. King used to say.”
“Mrs. King?”
“She’s who taught me to read and write, and other things too, till her heart gave out. Lived next door to me and Lester.”
“Lester?”
“Lester’s who took care of me and Mama before Manny. I’m writing it all down in my memoir.”
“Aren’t you a little young to write your life story?”
“A lot’s happened to me! Besides, I used to read them all the time to Charlie’s mama. She was blind. Mrs. King taught me reading, but Charlie’s mama was how I got good at it. Memoirs and murder mysteries were her favorites. She said her life was dull as red dirt and she lived life through people in books.”
“Who’s Charlie?”
“Charlie mowed people’s yards. He was Mama’s boyfriend between Manny and Harlan, who was her next to last. Harlan fixed cars and taught me to drive, stick, standard, and column. Want me to drive home? I’m good at it.”
“Next to last?” Henry asked.
“Before Ray. Ray was Mama’s last boyfriend. My keeper before you.”
Henry frowned at Ray’s name. Ray had that effect on people, especially me. I was glad Henry didn’t ask any more.
We came out of the aisle and saw the other shoppers gabbing near the checkout. Skunk Woman stood in front. Madame Buttinsky, I thought, Nosy Parker Club President.
“Everything all right, Doctor?” she said crisply, emphasis on the word Doctor. “It’s been some time since we’ve seen you in town.” She studied us up and down the way a mean mama would look at her kids. “We’re all sorry for your loss, dear,” she went on, shifting her disapproval to me and not sounding sorry one bit.
“Mrs. Wilson,” Henry said stiffly. He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “This is my niece, Zoë. She’s come to live with me.”
Mrs. Wilson looked as though she thought this an extremely questionable idea.
“Nice of him, too,” I told her, “seeing how I’ve served hard time.”
Henry squeezed my shoulder till it hurt, but I didn’t let on. I wouldn’t have given him or Skunk Woman the satisfaction.
“I see that mendacity and smart tongues run deep in the Royster family,” said Mrs. Wilson, “alongside promiscuity and godless ways.”
I could’ve spit fire. “I know what those words mean, you cussed old—” I said, fixing to tell her where she could stick her opinions, but Henry cut me off.
“We’ll be going now, Mrs. Wilson. My regards to Dr. Wilson,” he said, scooping me up under one stinky armpit and rushing me and the cart toward the checkout.
“You gonna take that from her?” I shouted. “She called us tramps and liars!”
“Zip it,” was all he said.
Make me, would’ve been the next words out of my mouth, but his sharp tone seemed like the fuse on a stick of dynamite I didn’t want to light.
We rode back to Henry’s without talking, both of us stewing. I was too mad and tired to care which of his bad moods Henry was in or why. He had to be the moodiest person I’d ever met, Mama and her friends included.
I thought about all the Mrs. Wilsons I’d known, all the busy-bodies who’d wanted to say who was fit to raise me and who wasn’t, always turning up their noses
