Tempest Rising - Diane Mckinney-whetstone [104]
They both pulled their attention from Mae. Ramona almost breathed out her great relief. She was almost pushing the silver-haired one up the steps, curling her fingers almost frantically for the bald head to follow. And she would have had them too. Would have closed the door on them in the girls’ room while she ran back to help Mae get reoriented. But right then Mae cleared her throat. It was such an impervious sound, and they all three stopped where they were. “Damn!” Ramona said under her breath.
“I had on my fancy yellow sundress.” Mae’s voice was strained, weak. “I’m not a pretty woman, you know, not like my child over there, but I always felt so pretty in that sundress. So I put that dress on to pick Ramona up in, since it was the first day of school, so that the other children would think I looked nice too and maybe then they wouldn’t tease Ramona about the way my eye has a tendency to droop.”
“Mommie, you’re talking silly.” Ramona forced a laugh. “Please, detectives, the girls’ room.”
The bald head motioned for Ramona to be quiet. “The girls.” He drew it out, spoke very slowly as if he were talking to the hearing-impaired. “What happened to the girls? Did you do something to the girls, Mae? This is important, and you have to tell us if you did.”
“That boy’s sneakers were dirty.” Mae continued in the same weak voice. “Which was unusual for the first day of school because everybody wore their best shoes the first day. I could only conclude that his mother wasn’t taking good care of him, must not have been any grandmother or aunt around either, not even a good preacher or deacon’s wife to take an interest in the boy to make sure he had good shoes to start school in.”
“Mommie—” Ramona’s voice was pleading.
“I always made sure Ramona had good shoes on her feet. Everything I did back then was for Ramona. Mostly. Even when I took a man to bed, I was measuring him up to see what I could persuade him to buy for her, a new bike, some skates, a pink Hula Hoop. God knows I loved that child, that lil darling of mine—”
“The girls, Mae.” The bald head cut her off. “What did you do to the girls? Why are they missing, Mae?”
“No, you wanted her to talk, let her talk,” Ramona snapped at him, at the same time melting inside hearing Mae say what she just had.
Mae jerked to then. All of a sudden. Ramona taking up for her like was just odd enough to bring her back. She jumped up from the couch, pointed at the bald head. “What the fuck you keep talking ’bout those girls for? What I’m talking about don’t have a thing to do with those girls. They ran away. Why you think you was called in? To find them. So why don’t you go on and do just that?”
“Well, what were you talking about?” The silver-haired voice was smooth, persuading. “Who had dirty sneakers on, Mae? Tell us, please tell us.”
“I’m talking about what I remember and what I don’t, okay. I remember everything about my child’s first day of school, okay. And I don’t remember what those girls were wearing yesterday. So why the fuck don’t you do your job and go find them? Find them! It snowed last night, and they’re out there in it. Dammit. Fucking find them!”
Ramona let her pent-up breaths out. Tried not to smile. Tried not to blush with pride over her mother, her mean, conniving, loose, foulmouthed wizard of a mother whom she couldn’t wait to start learning how to love all over again.
23
The girls slept through the rest of the storm on Mister’s couch and looked like dominoes leaning toward a fall: Bliss half sitting against Victoria, Victoria half sitting against Shern, Shern with her head nestled in her elbows against the arm of the couch. Victoria woke first. She woke all at once with her heart beating in her ears; she couldn’t have slept for more than an hour, she thought. She sat straight up and let out a small moan. Shern’s back had been an uncomfortably hard pillow, and now she had a crick in her neck. Plus her knee had gone through the night unelevated and was throbbing again like it hadn