Part 14 (1/2)

”Nothing's going on, Miss Jane,” she said.

”I believe you,” I said. ”But I wanted to hear it from you.”

”He ain't nothing but a child,” she said. ”A lonely boy.”

”He's a man, Mary Agnes,” I said. ”And he's a Samson.”

”I can't help it if he want ride through the quarters side me,” she said. ”I can't make him leave his own gate.”

”What y'all talk about, Mary Agnes?” I said.

”Nothing much,” she said. ”School. Children. Wood. Christmas play.”

”Don't y'all ever talk about you and him?” I asked her.

”No, ma'am,” she said.

”Don't you know that's what he want talk about?” I said.

”I have no interest in that boy,” she said.

”I believe you, but he got interest in you,” I said.

”That's his fault,” she said. ”But I got no interest in men, black or white. I'm for these children here. That's why I left home.”

”It's coming a time when he go'n tell you what he's interested in,” I told her.

”I can handle Robert,” she said.

”That's what you call him? Robert?”

”Yes, ma'am.”

”And he don't say nothing?”

”He want me to call him Robert,” she said. ”I never thought about calling him nothing else.”

”Never Mister?”

”In front of them children; never by myself. No, ma'am; never. I reckoned I would break down laughing first.”

”And you think you can handle him?” I said.

”More than anything else in this world, Robert is decent,” she said.

”Is this world decent, Mary Agnes?” I said.

”Robert is more human being than he is white man, Miss Jane,” she said.

”And how long you think this world go'n let him stay like that?”

”Robert is good,” she said. ”That's why I don't fear walking with him. The day he get out of line I'll tell him he's too decent for that.”

”And you think he'll listen?”

”Yes, ma'am, because he's decent,” she said. ”Some people do make it, Miss Jane.”

”Some do, yes,” I said. ”But they happen to be the strong ones. And Tee Bob is not one of them.”

One day Miss Amma Dean asked me: ”Jane, what's going on between Robert and that girl down there?”

”Nothing, Miss Amma Dean,” I said.

”I can see them through my gla.s.ses,” she said.

”I talked to her,” I said. ”Nothing's going on.”

”I don't want him to think he can do that,” Miss Amma Dean said.

Robert heard us talking, and came back there in the kitchen where we was.

”Do what?” he said.

Miss Amma Dean looked straight at him. ”Hurt people,” she said.

”Maybe she's leading him,” Robert said. ”You ever thought about that?”

”She don't go to Baton Rouge and pick him up every day,” Miss Amma Dean said. ”She don't come up here and saddle that horse.”

”She don't have to,” Robert said.

”You ought to know,” Miss Amma Dean said.

”A few things,” Robert said.

”I'm go'n talk to him again,” Miss Amma Dean said.

”Leave him alone,” Robert said.

”I don't want it,” Miss Amma Dean said.

”You don't want what?” Robert said.

”No more Timmy Hendersons,” Miss Amma Dean said.

”Whoa, Eve, don't touch that apple,” Robert said.