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"Look at all the clothing you've outgrown, and some of it you hadn't even worn yet," I said, nodding toward my closet. She stared at me, her eyes growing smaller with anger and frustration, making her cheeks look even fuller. Then she smiled.
"You just want me to give you the rest of this so you won't be hungry."
I shrugged again and pulled myself up in the bed to lean back against my pillow. "Of course not," I said. "I wouldn't eat sweets instead of real food."
"You'll see. After a day you're going to be so hungry your stomach will growl and ache," she promised.
"I've been hungry, far hungrier than you've ever been, Clara Sue," I retorted. "I'm used to going without food for days and days," I said, relishing the effect my exaggeration was having on her. "There were days when Daddy couldn't find any work, and we had only a few crumbs left for all of us. When your stomach starts to ache, you just drink loads of water and the ache goes away."
"But . . . this is different," she insisted. "You can smell the food being cooked, and all you have to do to get it is wear the nameplate."
"I won't do it and I don't care anyway," I said with unexpected sincerity. It made her eyebrows lift. "I don't care if I waste away in this bed."
"That's stupid," she said, but she backed up as if I had some infectious disease.
"Is it?" I shifted my eyes to her and glared. "Why did you tell Grandmother Cutler stories about Philip and me? You did, didn't you?"
"No. I just told her what everyone at school knew—that Philip was your boyfriend for a little while, and you and he went on a date."
"I'm sure you told her more."
"I didn't!" she insisted.
"It doesn't matter anyway," I said and sighed. "Please leave me alone." I lowered myself down onto the bed and closed my eyes.
"Grandmother sent me to see if you had changed your mind before she makes a big announcement about you to the staff."
"Tell her . . . tell her I won't change my name, and she can bury me right where she put up the monument," I added. Clara Sue's eyes nearly bulged. She backed into the doorway.
"You're just being a stubborn little brat. No one's going to help you. You'll be sorry."
"I'm sorry already," I said. "Please close the door on your way out."
She stared at me in disbelief and then shut the door and was gone.
Of course, she was right. It would be harder to go hungry here, where there was so much and where the aromas of the wonderful foods threaded their way through the hotel, drawing the guests like flies to the dining room for delicious entrees and sumptuous desserts. Just the thought of it made my stomach churn in anticipation. I thought the best thing to do was to try to sleep.
I was emotionally and mentally exhausted anyway. The rainstorm continued and the musty, damp scent chilled me. I slipped out of my uniform, wrapped my blanket around my body, and turned away from the tear-streaked window. I heard the growl of thunder. The whole world seemed to tremble, or was it just me? After a few moments I fell asleep and didn't wake up until I heard shouting in the hall followed by many loud footsteps. A moment later my door was thrown open, and my grandmother burst in, followed by Sissy and Burt Hornbeck, chief of the hotel's security.
I pulled my blanket around myself and sat up.
"What is it?" I gasped.
"All right," my grandmother snapped and tugged Sissy forward by the wrist so she could stand at her side and face
me. Burt Hornbeck stepped up on the other side of her and stared at me. "I want you to say it all in her presence with Burt as a witness." Sissy looked down and then looked up at me slowly, her eyes wide and bright with fear. Yet there was a glint of sadness and pity in them, too.
"Say what?" I asked. "What is this?"
She turned on Sissy.
"You alternated rooms, correct?" my grandmother demanded with a prosecutor's clipped, sharp tone of voice. Sissy nodded. "Speak up," my grandmother commanded.
"Yes, ma'am," Sissy said quickly.
"You took the odd number and she took the even?"
"Uh-huh."
