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Reluctantly Tom backed toward the door. "What should I tell Miss Deale?"
"Don't you tell her Sarah ran off and left us!" I flared hotly. "You just say I'm staying home to help out with all there is to do when Grandpa's feeling bad and Our Jane is sick. That's all you tell her,
understand?"
"But she could help."
"How?"
"I don't know how, but I'll bet she could think of something."
"Thomas Luke, if you hope to reach your goals in life, you can't go around begging for help. You rise above all difficulties and find your own solutions. Together you and I will see this family through, and find ways to stay healthy. You say anything you have to say to keep Logan and Miss Deale unaware that Ma has walked out on us . . . for she might come back any minute, once she realizes what she did was wrong. We wouldn't want to shame her, would we?"
"No," he breathed, appearing relieved. "She sure could come back once she thinks more about how wrong it is to go."
He took Keith's right hand, and Fanny took Keith's left hand, and off they set toward the school, leaving me standing on the porch with Our Jane in my arms. She wailed to see Keith trudging dutifully toward school, while I longed to be there with them.
First thing I did after bathing Our Jane and putting her into the big brass bed was to hand Grandpa his whittling knives and his pieces of prime wood. "Whittle something Granny would like, say a doe with big sad eyes. Granny had a special liking for does--didn't she?"
He blinked once or twice, glanced at the empty rocking chair he refused to use even though it was the best one, and two fat tears slid down his wrinkled cheeks. "Fer Annie," he whispered when he picked up his favorite knife.
I turned my attention back to Our Jane, and dosed her fever as I thought Granny would have done, with herbal medicine, and then I set about doing all that Sarah used to do before she turned on us.
Tom seemed stricken when he came from school to see if Ma had returned and found she hadn't. "I guess it's up t'me now t'be the man in t'family," he said, as if overwhelmed by all he'd have to do. "Won't be no money comin in if somebody doesn't go out an make it. Yard jobs are hard t'find when ya don't have t'right equipment. Stores don't give away food staples, an what we got won't last nearly long enough. An we sure could all use new shoes. Heavenly, ya kin't go t'school wearin shoes without toes."
"I can't go to school, shoes or not," I said tonelessly, wiggling my toes that stuck out of shoes much too small, so I'd had to cut them. "You know I can't leave Grandpa alone, and Our Jane isn't well enough to go back to school. Tom, if only we had money enough to take her to a doctor."
"Doctors kin't help what she's got," mumbled Grandpa with his head bowed low. "Somethin inside Our Jane don't work right, an ain't no doctor kin give her what she needs."
"But how do you know that, Grandpa?" I challenged.
"Annie had a youngun once, same as Our Jane. Put him in a hospital, they did. Cost me an Annie all our savins . . . an didn't do one bit of good. Sweetest boy I eva had up an died on Easter Sunday. Tole myself he was like Christ on t'cross, too good an too sweet fer this mean ole
world."
There went Grandpa talking just like Granny, when he'd never said much of anything when she lived. "Grandpa, don't say things like that!"
"No, Grandpa," put in Tom, holding fast to my hand. "Doctors can save people from dying. Medicine gets better year by year. What killed your son doesn't have to kill Our Jane."
Tom stared at me with wide, frightened eyes as we readied ourselves for bed after a meal of more fried taters, more sausage, and biscuits and gravy, and apples for desert. All the energy drained from his eyes. "What are we gonna do, Heavenly?"
"Don't you worry, Tom. You, Fanny, Keith, and Our Jane will go to school. I'll stay home and take care of Grandpa, and do the wash, and cook the meats. I know how," I finished defiantly.
"But it's you who loves school, not Fanny."
"Don't matter. Fanny's not responsible enough to stay home and run things."
"She acts that way on purpose," said Tom, tears in his eyes. "Heavenly, no matter what you say, I am gonna tell Miss Deale. Maybe she can think of something that will help."
"No! You can't do that. We've got our pride, Tom, if we don't have anything else. Let's save something we can cherish."
Pride was important to both of us. Perhaps because it was something free, something that made us feel important. We, Tom and I, had to prove ourselves to the world, and also to ourselves. Fanny wasn't included in our pact. Fanny already had proven herself untrustworthy.
seven Coping
. TOM HURRIED HOME EACH DAY TO HELP ME WITH THE wash, with the floor scrubbing, with taking care of Our Jane; then he'd chop wood, always he had to chop wood. Sometimes we all ran about madly, trying to round up hogs and pigs that had escaped our frail fence rails, our chickens which were one by one being killed off by bobcats or foxes, or stolen by vagabonds.
"Did Logan ask about me again today?" I quizzed when I'd missed three days of school.
