So the next morning she went down cellar in her nightgown and bare feet, and stood there in the darkest dark with her back to the furnace for the warmth. If she stoked it too early, Mrs. would be after her for the coal she wasted, and if she waited too long, the old man might come to do it. If he did come she decided she’d shake the shovel at him a little and he’d probably run off the best he could, scrawny as he was. Mrs. had to pay him something, but Lila would be working off a debt, so Mrs. would see it was best to let her have her way. Then she’d scrub down the kitchen, which needed it something terrible. It was high time somebody beat those rugs.
Just standing there in the dark felt so good to her. She’d get all black and filthy with the coal dust, and when she came upstairs who knew what they would say, and that was all right, because she had this time to be quiet with herself. How long had it been. She was standing there, leaning against the warmth with her eyes closed, and she began to have bright dreams about waking up before dawn with Doll’s arm for a pillow and the sound of a fire and Doane talking with whoever else was awake first. It was always Doane who got the fire going, and then Arthur would start the coffee when they had it. And Doll coaxed her awake. They would fry whatever there was, the light coming up and the birds singing. Dew on everything, beaded on cobwebs so it fell like a little rain when you broke one. Then Doll looked at her and said, “You’re standing in a coal hole.” No, Lila must have said that. She’d started talking to herself and they teased her about it. She knew nothing about anything but fieldwork and making change. And housekeeping, from the time in Tammany. When she lived in that town where they didn’t hang Doll and she worked in the store, sometimes she would walk out at night, because then you can see into people’s houses. The accounts always came out just right when she was working there, never a penny short. She was saving up a little money. There was nothing wrong with working indoors when a place was as clean as that and smelled so good. Ham and coffee and cheese and apples and flour. Spools of ribbon and bolts of pretty cloth. She’d watch how the women were dressed and what they did with their hair, listen to the way they talked. She’d really wanted to know those things. Well, she’d been learning some things lately, that’s for sure.
“You’re standing there in the dark in a filthy old cellar.”
I like it down here. That was her talking to herself again. I ain’t cut out for this life.
Doll said, “I tried to tell you about it. Didn’t I tell you?”
No, you didn’t. Just to stay away from whorehouses. Just that you got that scar. Anyway, I had a decent job, and then you come bleeding all over everything, fouling the place.
She nodded. “I shoulda give that more thought. But where’s my knife? Why you let that woman have my knife?”
It’s the only thing I had to give her.
That don’t make sense. Lila was the one who said that. But Doll would have said it. If Lila had had the knife and a gold watch and chain, she’d have handed them all to that woman, seen them lying there in her hand and wished there was something else to give her. It was a bitter sorrow to her that Mrs. hardly even bothered with her anymore. Never smeared rouge on her face or told her she might try smiling. The gentlemen come here for a good time. You look at them like you hate them.
She hated them, for a fact. They were the worst part of the whole damn situation. It was them that made her think sometimes she’d like to have that knife back. No, because she couldn’t go anywhere so long as it was locked away. Safekeeping. There was a picture in there of Peg’s sister, and Mrs. only let her look at it once in a while. She’d say, Peg, I was going to let you look at that photo, but the way you been acting lately— Then there would be Please, and I’m sorry, and I won’t do it again if you just tell me what it was I done, and Mrs. would say, Like you don’t know! Next time I’ll just toss it in the fire. Begging only worked sometimes, not quite never, but they did it anyway, till she slapped
