Chapter 32

Ada June was sorry the little snake had crawled out from under its rock for some sunshine right in plain view. She didn't want to mess up their fun by fussing with Joseph, but she couldn't let him smash its head just because it was being what it was. A snake.

She liked Joseph, but he was a boy. Boys were always wanting to kill things. Some boys anyway. Some men too. With them, you had to keep away. You had to figure things like that out. The way she knew she was better off not being in the same house as Mr. Luther. The way she knew they didn't want to step over on Mr. Riley's hill.

Some places a person didn't want to come up on where they didn't have no business. And for certain, they didn't have no business at Mr. Riley's place. He might be married to Miss Nicey Jane, but that didn't mean they were exactly alike.

Not that Miss Nicey Jane was ever ready to see Ada June either, but she was fine with Miss Mira most all the time. Nobody could be fine with everybody all the time. Just like her and Joseph. They got along most always. Even Bo had took to Joseph. That didn't mean that sometimes she wasn't ready to wish him off somewhere else. He could be pesky.

But she could talk to him. She kept adding people that didn't make her throat freeze up. She still didn't say anything at the schoolhouse. Unless she was in there alone with Miss Mira.

She did love Miss Mira. She had wanted a schoolteacher to learn her to read. But Preacher Gordon said sometimes the Lord answered prayers you hadn't even thought up. When he preached on such as that, she had the feeling he was thinking some the same as she did about the prayers they'd said for a schoolteacher. The Lord had answered with more. Way more. A wife for Preacher Gordon and, for Ada June, somebody willing—even wanting—to take her in.

Ada June hadn't slept out in the woods for months. She might again with how it was warming up and all, but she liked the cot Miss Mira asked Preacher Gordon to put in his front room. Special for her. She spent most nights there except when Aunt Dottie needed her to stay if the baby was fretful.

Aunt Dottie had borne Luke without the first bit of trouble and got her strength back in no time. Ada June still went and filled her woodbox most days and carried water in for her on washday. But she was some glad Aunt Dottie had took over milking her cow again.

Sometimes when it wasn't a school day, Ada June carried Emmy Lou down to the preacher's house. She played with some blocks Preacher Gordon made whilst Ada June worked on her reading or Miss Mira read to them. Sometimes Emmy Lou, even little as she was, would stop playing to listen, whether the stories were things she could know or not. When Miss Mira was reading, the words sung in the air.

Plenty of times what Miss Mira read were things Ada June didn't know either, but somehow she could imagine them. Miss Mira helped her believe she might someday live some of those kinds of things and not just be a girl folks looked down on because she didn't have a pa. Or a ma anymore.

She did once have a ma, and a good one no matter what others said. But she did so wish for a mother now. So much that while she made sure to say "Miss Mira" when she was speaking aloud, in her heart she sometimes thought Mama.

Ada June watched her now as Joseph pointed out some bluebells. She was bragging on Joseph and making him feel like he was thirteen instead of only six. Miss Mira had that way. Her words could make a person feel good. And she didn't just talk. She made things happen.

Ada June had boots and shoes. Boots that fit. Shoes without holes in the soles. She had dresses that hung down below her knees like they were supposed to. Now when the other kids ragged on her, it wasn't because her clothes didn't fit right or that she had rats' nests in her hair. Miss Mira gave her a comb and barred the door and covered up the windows so Ada June could take baths. Ada June had come to like being clean. Most all the time now even her fingernails were clean.

Best of all, she didn't make Ada June feel like she had to earn her supper. A plate was always on the table for her if she wanted it. Bo never had to go hungry either.

Miss Mira hadn't let Bo come in the schoolhouse. Instead, Ada June put Bo in the preacher's house, where he knew he had to stay. At noon, when Miss Mira let out school for the kids to eat the vittles they brung in their dinner pails, Ada June ran over to see to Bo. Miss Mira always left something there for her to eat. She gave half of it to Bo to keep him from whining much when she headed back for the rest of the school day. She didn't like leaving him locked up, but it kept her from worrying about some hound jumping him whilst she wasn't there to make Bo know better than to tear into a dog twice his size.

Now Bo sniffed on across the hill. Probably hunting a rabbit nest. She couldn't fault him for that. Plenty of times back before Miss Mira, he had to find his own eats.

Ada June felt a little teary-eyed just thinking about how she and Bo didn't have to worry about having eats now or a bed. Not the bad kind of tears she had to fight off when she thought about Elsinore and how she wasn't getting any better. These were sweet-feeling tears because of how Miss Mira kept her door open to her, and Joseph was as much of a friend as she'd ever had.

"Hurry up, Ada June," he hollered at her now. "I see a whole patch of them britches flowers."

"Dutchman's britches." She chased after him. Bo barked and came down the hill to run with them. She laughed out loud and looked over her shoulder at Miss Mira. "You coming, Miss Mira?"

"I better stay over here on the path. If there's an abundance of blooms you can bring one for me to see. Then we should head back." She looked up at the sky. "The sun will be dipping behind the hill soon, and we need to go by and see about Elsinore."

"I'll pick one for her too. It might make her smile."

They found all kinds of blooms and picked a few before they headed toward Elsinore's house. Joseph went off toward Miss Effie's house to show her one of the Dutchman's britches blooms.

Elsinore's lips did curl up a little when Ada June gave her the flower, but it wasn't much of a smile. She didn't appear to have energy for more than that.

"Do you need someone to stay with you?" Miss Mira had hold of Selinda the way she always did at Elsinore's.

"Horace is bringing Granny Perry down in a little bit." Saying that much seemed to wear out Elsinore.

All Ada June's happy feelings drained away.

"Do you want me to get Miss Nicey Jane to come?" Miss Mira looked about ready to cry herself.

"Ain't no use. Ain't nothing no use. Them tonics ain't helpin' me breathe a bit easier." She lay back, her face as white as the pillowcase. "And I'm plumb tired, Miss Mira."

"You can't stop trying, Elsinore." Miss Mira's voice sounded funny. "Think of Selinda."

"I been tryin'. I been tryin' for nigh on a year." Elsinore's face softened. "I give her a good start." She looked over at Ada June. "I'm reckonin' she's gonna be like you, Ada June. No pa and no ma. But you'll see to her, won't you? With Miss Mira's help?"

All Ada June could do was nod as she blinked back tears. Didn't seem right to be crying when Elsinore was dry-eyed.

"Stop that talk. We won't need to see to her because you are going to get better." Miss Mira looked to be having to work to keep from crying too.

"I reckon you can try to pray that down. Your prayers for me has been sweet words I've held in my heart." Elsinore's hand trembled something fierce when she touched her chest.

The back door opened and Horace Perry brung in Granny Perry. She looked to have got halfway to ancient since Ada June saw her last. She patted Elsinore's arm without saying anything and then reached for Selinda.

"You'uns best get on home. It's the edge of night out there," the old woman said.

"Are you sure you won't need help with Selinda?" Miss Mira appeared to tighten her hold on the baby.

Granny Perry made a sound halfway between a snort and a laugh as she took Selinda out of Miss Mira's arms. "I ain't so old I can't tend to a babe like this here one. Horace there"—she nodded toward where he stood by the back door, wringing his hands—"he can be a help, were I to need it."

"It will be fine, Miss Mira. You go on home and fix Preacher Gordon his supper," Elsinore said. "You can come back in the mornin' time if'n your prayers is strong enough."

"That's the idee. Prayers is a good thing." Granny Perry narrowed her eyes as she leaned toward Miss Mira. "Lookin' like as how you need to do some restin' your own self. How long afore your time?"

"My time?" Miss Mira looked puzzled.

"Your layin' in time."

For a second, Ada June thought Miss Mira might have to sit down, but she stayed on her feet. "I-I'm not sure."

"Reckon it's hard to know with the first one." Granny Perry sat down with Selinda, who seemed happy enough to be in her lap. "Now you and the girl be on your way and let Elsie here get some rest."

"Yes. We best go, Ada June."

"Ada June," Elsinore called to her. "Come on over here and give me a hug. You has been my best friend ever."

Ada June went to the bed and leaned down to hug her, feeling naught but skin and bones. When she raised up, she ducked her head so's Elsinore wouldn't see the tears she couldn't keep back now. Elsinore had never asked for a hug before. Ever.