By the time they got back Mattie was calling Ruthie Mae to come eat. She looked and saw that Ludell was still around and offered her some dinner, expecting her to say yes, but to Mattie’s surprise she said no thank you. Mattie turned around and stretched her eyes in disbelief, smiling. Her gesture made Ludell pretty mad. Although she ate there plenty, she didn’t feel like her saying no had called for all that out of Mattie!
Mis Johnson always let Mattie take charge of supper and everything since she got in so late. Mattie was like a younger mama around the house—well actually she was a mama. She had a little baby boy. It was just hard for them to think of her being a mama when just three summers ago it was thirteen-year-old Mattie who’d take Ludell and Ruthie Mae’s “last” when they played baseball; then fourteen-year-old Mattie trying to teach them how to jitterbug. Now she was sixteen, with a baby, and getting fatter and meaner by the day.
Mattie was a good cook. Ludell knew she should have been shame of herself always eating at their house, when there were so many of them, but sometimes it would just be smelling too good to say no. Especially when Mattie made that big iron pot full of spaghetti! She’d mix the spaghetti and sauce of meat and onions together; then serve it piled deliciously on rice, making it impossible to turn down! However, Ludell didn’t feel that Mattie minded much about her eating when they had something like spaghetti, because she could stretch it; but then this afternoon was another story! She was certain Mattie was glad she wasn’t joining them, for they were having fried chicken! In spite of the fact that she wasn’t hungry, Ludell was sorry she’d said no when her nose caught a whiff of what they were having. For a second she thought of asking Ruthie Mae to tell Mattie she’d changed her mind, but was too shame to do it.
Especially considering that look Mattie had given her before.
“Mmmm, man-oh-man look at that chicken,” she thought as it was placed upon the table. “Wonder what they doing having chicken on Thursday?” she asked herself.
Buddie Boy and Hawk were fussing about both wanting two breasts and two short thighs; and Ruthie Mae and Cathy were arguing about who was going to get to sit by the window. Mattie, who had one arm around her baby on her hip, took her free hand and grabbed the broom from the corner. Aiming it toward the table, she hollered that she was “gon bus all their brains out if they didn’t shut-up!”
While they carried on, Willie stood quietly at the stove fixing his plate to take out the kitchen. There had been a time when Ludell thought it was on account of her that Willie did that, but Ruthie Mae explained to her one day that he wouldn’t eat in front of anybody but them.
Ludell stood over in the corner smiling, watching everything. Even not eating, it was a treat being part of suppertime with the Johnsons. They were joking about how Hawk wasn’t leaving any gristle on the bones; talking about who pulled the biggest piece off the pullybone; fussing about who already had two glasses of Kool-Aid.
Mattie had her baby on her lap, feeding him from her plate, giving him one mouthful to about every four she was taking. He looked like a little bird with his mouth all stretched open waiting for her to get back to him.
Ludell wanted to stay until they finished so she could watch the fight when Mattie started trying to make them do the dishes, but it was getting late and she hadn’t forgotten mama’s warning. She’d seen Willie going in the front room with his plate, so she went on out the back way home after saying good-bye to the rest of them. She figured she’d spare him the misery of her passing him eating. Once she had, and he’d nearly choked.
Walking home she looked down at the remains of an anthill that the rain had washed down, thinking about how often the poor ants must have had to rebuild—not just from a rainy day, but all the times mean people stepped on their homes on purpose. All those times of building back up, that is, the ones who weren’t completely washed or squashed away. Once when Ruthie Mae was about to step on some ants that weren’t messing with her, Ludell had pulled her back shouting, “DON’T!” Naturally Ruthie Mae asked what was wrong with stepping on a stupid ole anthill. Ludell then explained her feelings about breaking up a whole family, had Ruthie Mae stepped on the mound. “I ’on even step on a ant walking by itself if I see it,” she added. “It could be a mother or father on the way home with food for their children, and the lil babies would be there waiting and wondering, never even knowing their mama or daddy dead. Or it could even be a ant child out playing and the mother never knowing it’s outside gone.”
Ruthie Mae had laughed at her and told her she was crazy. Then when Ludell looked hurt, she changed it from “crazy” to “too soft-hearted.”
As Ludell swung open the back door, the smell of stewbeef hit her in the face. She entered the kitchen and saw mama scooping it up from the pots and placing it on their plates with rice. After washing up and saying the grace, she began forcing her supper down.
“Heard from your mother today,” mama said, sitting across from her.
Ludell remained silent and kept eating, trying to hurry and finish the stuff.
“Say she sending a TV,” mama added.
“A whaat?” Ludell screamed, dropping her fork.
“Thought that would get yo attention!” mama uttered. “She say the lady she work for gave her one and that since she already had one, she was sending it to us.”
“For real?” exclaimed Ludell. “Oh man, a TV! When she gon send it, mama?”
“She claim sometime next week, but don’ hold yo breath, cause you know yo mama when it come to sending stuff when she promise. Had me worried to death sending yo Easter stuff at the las minute las year. Still writing bout she gon come git you and take you back to New Yawk City. Caine half take care of herself. Wasn’t nothing but skin and bones last time she was here, with all her fancy wigs and fancy ways! Hee, hee, that’s a good joke—fancy wigs and fancy ways! Hee, hee. Thank she taking you somewhere, she crazy! I aine letting her take you up there to starve. Hmph!” mama went, clicking her tongue.
Usually it got on Ludell’s nerves when mama got to preaching about Dessa, but tonight nothing could upset her. They were getting a TV, a TV, a T—VEE!
IT WAS FRIDAY, “hot dog day” at school! Each teacher taking a turn would sell them, with the money going to the PTA. You could buy a 5¢ hot dog which was a half one; 10¢ whole; 15¢ one and a half; and you could go up as high as you pleased. The record Ludell had seen was when Monkey Juice got 40¢’s worth.
After getting organized to take the hot dog orders, Mis Rivers called out, “CASH!”
Three hands went up—Ludell’s and two more persons’. Mama normally gave her 10¢ a day, but on Fridays she’d get an extra dime. She’d usually get 15¢’s worth of hot dogs and a drink. The week Mis Stevanson (who made the best ones) was selling, she’d get two and just drink some water.
After Mis Rivers finished with the cash list she called for credit, and the rest of the class’s hands went up, except for Ruthie Mae’s and another girl’s. Ruthie Mae still owed the teacher who’d sold last week, and the other girl owed a teacher from many many weeks back.
You were suppose to pay off your credit before Friday and when you didn’t, you had to take the slip back to the teacher you owed, every day until you paid. For weeks Mis Rivers had been calling out the girl’s name for her to pay, and everyday she’d say, “I’ll brang it tomorrow.”
Then Mis Rivers would pass the slip to her and say, “Tell that to the person you owe.” Sometimes the girl would come back almost in tears, causing Ludell to feel so sorry for her. She didn’t owe but twenty lil ole cents, but the teachers would hound you like a dog over even