Old Enough

As soon as Pearl's taxi pulled up and her sensible black shoes touched the sidewalk I was ready to head out the back door to meet my best friend Clara, that is until I hear an unfamiliar voice in the front hallway. Curiosity is my worst enemy and by now I should have learned something, but as Clara says, "UH-Parent-LEE not". I peek around the doorway and see Pearl has another woman with her: Is this the mean lady who takes kids from unfit homes? It's gotta be. The word is on the street for sure by now that we are mixing with coloured's, are heathens and I have no rightful Momma. Then my mind jumps into action. Paw-Paw! I best wake him as he is likely to be snoring away in his boxers or worse, naked!

I slink down the long hallway, stepping carefully over each creaky plank and slowly open his door. Just as I thought, belly up in dreamland.

I pinch his pink, flabby arm then fall to the floor and roll under the bed strategically holding my breath. For a second his snore quiets; the bed above me sinks in as he rolls to his side causing me to question my safety. I roll back out, listen for footsteps and voices, then rise up on my knees and grab a back- scratcher, the kind with wooden fingers and tap his head. He makes a grumbling sound so I revert to my hiding place. It worked, he is reaching for his water glass as the bed above me boinks up and down as I imagine he is trying to pull his two-hundred pound plus body upright. The head board goes ratta-tat-tatt against the old horse and hound wall paper as he makes disgusting, ole grandpa noises; he spurts liquidly, gurgles like stopped up plumbing and blows his nose in an ole rag for what seems like a year: my stomach churns and growls at the same time as I haven't had breakfast. As much as I love my Paw-Paw, mornings are not pretty.

I have been so busy planning my secret trip down the railroad tracks to meet Clara that I barely slept a wink. I even forgot to get dressed, eat something to hold me, and suddenly I feel a sneeze coming on: I grab my nose and hold it tight then make some choking sound. Am I caught? I hold my breath and wait for my discovery.

Paw-Paw swings his legs to the side of the bed closest to the door and his feet fiddle around for his brown, corduroy house slippers; I push them toward his toes and he slides them on and stands up. He grabs his red flannel robe from a hook on the back of his door and wraps his roundness inside it; shoving rags and his reading glasses in the pockets he gingerly swings open the door and heads to the bathroom. PHEW!

I roll out of my seriously dusty rabbit hole and peer out into the hallway: clear! I can faintly hear Pearl and the woman talking in the front room. I jump across the hallway to my bedroom, slip back under the covers wandering where Clara is now, how far she has made it down the tracks and hope she doesn't get to the half-way point where we are to unite. I can't imagine her all alone under the green iron train trestle. All I know is I better start praying now.

I hear the clickity-click of two ladies coming my way and fake sleep, my ears are wide awake though.

"This is Mr. Charles room and this is Miss Mae's. She's a smart girl, probably sound asleep, right sweet but she still need's some mindin' now and then." - WAIT? WHAT? MINDIN'? What is happening?

I get back out of bed and stand behind my bedroom door so I can hear more; they've entered Paw-Paw's room and she is telling the woman how to hang things like shirts, mentioning his sock drawer, opening his closet and giving this complete stranger lots of detailed information. Oh no. Paw-Paw has gone and hired somebody to fill Pearl's shoes without telling me; furious and sad all at once I crawl back in bed and face the window wondering how I can get a message to Clara. If there is a God, he'll surely hear me now.