Bastard Out of Carolina - Dorothy Allison [39]
A long flight of steps ran off the porch and looped back past the lower apartment extending down to the yard. Grey and Little Earle were sitting on the top steps, leaning over to watch the kids from downstairs, who were looking out their windows up to where we all stood. Shiny brown faces kept pressing against the glass and then withdrawing, stern blank faces that we could barely tell one from the other.
“Niggers,” Grey whispered proudly. “Scared of us.”
I wrapped my fingers around the banister rail, working splinters loose from the dry wood, and leaned over to look for myself. I had never seen colored people up close, and I was curious about these. They did look scared.
“Their mama won’t let them come out.” Little Earle was chewing a splinter off the railing and picking at another. “We heard her this morning, telling ’em she’d beat their asses if they even opened that door. She sure an’t happy we moved in here.”
“Well, neither is Daddy,” Grey laughed.
“Must be hot cooped up in there,” Patsy Ruth whispered.
I nodded, still watching the window. It looked like there were three of them down there, taking turns looking out, fully fascinated with us as we were with them. Reese came up behind me and pulled at my arm. I didn’t turn; it seemed as if the face in the window was looking at me.
“Can’t we go down in the yard?”
“It’s hotter down there, no breeze at all, and dusty. Better up here.” Grey spat over the rail to the parched bare ground far below. “Besides, we’d have to go past them.” He nodded at the window.
I slit my eyes against the bright light. The face in the window narrowed its eyes. I couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl—a very pretty boy or a very fierce girl for sure. The cheekbones were as high as mine, the eyes large and delicate with long lashes, while the mouth was small, the lips puffy as if bee-stung, but not wide. The chocolate skin was so smooth, so polished, the pores invisible. I put my fingers up to my cheeks, looked over at Grey and then back down. Grey’s cheeks were pitted with blackheads and flushed with sunburn. I’d never thought about it before, but he was almost ugly.
“What you staring at, Bone?” Grey poked me.
I couldn’t say what I was thinking, couldn’t say, “That child is prettier than you.” I pulled myself back from the railing and tore off a splinter of my own before turning to look into Grey’s face.
“I like it here. Like it a lot better than that rickety old place where you were living before,” I lied. “How many bedrooms you got?”
Grey’s face relaxed, and I realized he had been afraid I was going to say something nasty. “More room here than it looks like. Got a room just for Little Earle and Tadpole and me. Patsy Ruth and Temple got their own, and Mama even said I could keep a tank on the dresser and get my turtles back from Garvey.” Little Earle nodded enthusiastically. It was the first time anyone had mentioned Garvey, who had stayed with Uncle Wade, but I said nothing. Mama had told me it caused a terrible fight when Wade kept Garvey and let his twin go on with Aunt Alma.
“Don’t call the baby Tadpole,” Patsy Ruth interrupted. “Call her Annie. You know Mama hates it when you call her Tadpole. ”
The door opened and Aunt Alma looked out. “You kids playing good?” She squinted against the sun.
“No problem, Mama,” Grey told her. I looked down to the window below us again. It was a girl, I was almost sure, a fierce girl watching us distrustfully. Grey pulled himself up from the steps with one big hand. The girl’s eyes followed his fist and then looked back to me. I tried to smile but my face felt stiff, nervous. The girl’s face remained expressionless and pulled back into the darkness of the apartment.
“Don’t you be mean to those kids downstairs,” Aunt Alma told Grey. “I don’t want no trouble with these people.”
“Yes, Mama,” Grey and Little