Read Online Mercy Me by Margaret A. Graham - Free Book Online

mind.”
    â€œBeatrice,” I said, “you and I both have been out of our minds for years. Both of us together do not make a whole wit.”
    She didn’t catch that. Anyway, she was in no mood to joke around. “All right, then,” I said. “A skin rash is nothing to keep. Don’t go to a doctor. He’ll put you on nerve pills, and with your low blood, you would never wake up. Instead of scratching yourself raw, splash on plenty of witch hazel, and when you take your bath, put olive oil in the water, then drip-dry when you get out.”
    â€œI have not got no olive oil,” she said.
    â€œAny kind of cooking oil will have to do. Now as for your nerves, give me a break! The holdup men are behind bars, I have got a plan to solve the problem upstairs, and when you’re up to it, I have something to say about the pigtail man that will surprise you. Everything is under control. You got nothing to worry about, so get over it!”
    That night I slept like a log, and I hoped she did too. But I doubted she would.

9

    Soon after we talked, I got a note from Beatrice. In it, she enclosed a dollar to give to Elijah in memory of Maude, and there were a few scribbled lines. Tell Elijah I cried when I heard Maude passed. How is he holding up?
    Well, that gave me an excuse to go visit Elijah, as if I ever needed an excuse to do that. When I got to his place, those kids we saw up on the tracks were playing in the branch out in front. Elijah came to the car, and I asked him who those kids were, but he just said they were catching tadpoles. Well, I could see that for myself, but there was no use pressing Elijah. He was not going to say nothing. Maybe he didn’t know nothing.
    I told him the dollar was from Beatrice and how she cried and all. His bottom lip commenced to trembling, and he couldn’t say nothing. He’d known Beatrice since she was a little kid.
    He took his time folding that dollar bill so it would fit in the bib pocket of his overalls. Then he cleared his throat and asked me to tell Beatrice how much obliged he was.
    I didn’t tell Elijah about the robbery. You do not tell a grieving man any bad news. But I did let him know the W.W.s were taking turns checking on Maude’s grave and would keep that up as long as it seemed necessary. I made a mental note to check on the grave myself.
    â€œI’m sorry the Lord didn’t answer our prayers about Maude,” I said. “I reckon she just died of old age.”
    â€œI reckon,” he said, quiet like, so I didn’t know if he agreed about that or not.
    I racked my brain for something more to say, but there was nothing going on that was very uplifting. Then it slipped out. “Pastor Osborne has been taking a lot of brickbats here lately.”
    Elijah didn’t say anything, and that quiet just got deeper, the way it does when he’s rolling something around in his mind.
    Well, there was nothing more to be said about that, so I climbed out of the car and got the box out of the backseat.
    â€œI brought you some jars of corn, beans, okra, and the like,” I told him. He thanked me and took the box. We went inside his little dark cook room, and I set the jars on the table. He keeps that cook room cleaner than I keep my kitchen.
    We went back outside where it was cooler, and Elijah pointed me to a rickety chair under the shade of the chinaberry tree. Once I was sat down, he parked himself on a bench propped against the tree. I remembered that benchbeing up at a school bus stop, all the slats broke out. I’d wondered what had happened to it. Elijah must’ve dragged it home and fixed it up.
    I wanted to speak to him about a tiller and thought I’d warm up to the subject.
    â€œDo you think my garden will make?”
    He looked off toward the children. “It won’t do much if we don’t get rain.”
    â€œThat’s what I figger.”
    We sat there quiet, enjoying a little