in the house alone with him.” She smiled and shook her head slowly. “He can’t hurt you now.”
“But he’s dead! I’m scared of dead people.”
“Girl, I’m always in my house alone with dead people. Sometimes two and three at a time.”
“But I’m scared—”
“Then come to my house. You can help do the laundry, then we can watch TV in my room. Buttwright’s not around to tell your mama, so she won’t know you came over. Besides, I got some new paperbacks I’m ready to pass on to you,” Rhoda said impatiently.
“I can’t. Muh’Dear might call or come home early. She told me to stay in the house.”
“All right. I’ll bring some more tea when I come back,” she promised. She called an hour later.
“When are you coming back?” I asked, sobbing. My hand was shaking so hard I could hardly hold the telephone. The longer Mr. Boatwright remained undiscovered, the more nervous I became. Every little noise made me almost jump out of my skin. There was a knot in my stomach and a lump in my throat.
“I have to help Aunt Lola finish the laundry, then go to this political gatherin’ with my folks that I just found out about. I can’t see you again until tomorrow.”
“Oh no,” I mumbled. A long silence followed.
“Did you hear what I said? I gotta go somewhere with my folks.”
“Yeah, I heard you. What time will you be home, Rhoda?”
“I don’t know. If it’s not too late, I’ll call you.”
Three hours later, Muh’Dear wandered in, dropping her coat on the kitchen floor. Before saying a word, she lifted the lid off the pot I’d cooked the greens and neckbones in, grabbed a fork off the counter, and started fishing greens out.
“Brother Boatwright in the bed already?” she asked with her mouth full. It was odd for him to be in bed two nights in a row when she got home. “He sick?” She talked with her back to me.
“Um…he didn’t get out the bed at all today,” I told Muh’Dear. She whirled around and looked at me for what felt like an eternity, still chewing. “He is an old man, now, Muh’Dear. He needs all the rest he can get…”
I can’t say how I really felt about what had happened to Mr. Boatwright at that moment. My feelings changed from one minute to the next. I was relieved that my abuse had ended, but I was afraid that sooner or later somebody would find out Rhoda had killed old Mr. Boatwright and that I knew about it all along. As strange as it may sound, I missed that old goat. He had become a part of my life, and in many ways he had replaced the father who had abandoned me. For those reasons, I felt like hell. One fear I had was, what if another man entered my life and took up where Mr. Boatwright left off? Would Rhoda kill him, too?
“I guess you right. Let him rest, bless his heart.” Muh’Dear swallowed, yawned, stretched her arms, then leaned down and picked her coat up from the floor. “I’ll check to see if he need anythin’ in the mornin’ before I leave.”
I spent another night just sitting up. This time in front of the TV in the living room instead of my room looking out the window at the sky trying to bargain with God. The television didn’t hold my attention, but I kept it on anyway. Every time I heard a car outside, I ran to the window to see if it was Rhoda.
I was desperate for something to happen, and it had to happen soon. I did manage to doze off for a brief moment around eleven but woke up as soon as I started having a dark dream about Mr. Boatwright chasing me with his fake leg.
Another hour went by before I heard another car. Rhoda and her folks had finally returned. I watched them get out and as soon as I saw Rhoda go in the house I called. “Muh’Dear didn’t find Mr. Boatwright yet,” I told her. Even though there was nobody in the room to hear my end of the conversation, I was holding the telephone receiver close to my face, and I was whispering.
“Hmmm…Uh…I can’t talk about that right now.” Rhoda lowered her voice and continued, “We’ll figure out somethin’ in the mornin’.”
“It can’t wait until morning. I’m about to have a complete nervous breakdown, girl,” I hissed, looking over my shoulder. My head was