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door?”
    “I think so.”
    “There’s no time for me to get there going out the back,” I said. “I’ll run out the front where he can’t see me and go light the fire down at the cabin. You do like we planned and pretend your mama’s upstairs!”
    “But, Mayme, what about Emma?”
    “Put her somewhere out of sight and tell her to be quiet!”
    I turned away and dashed through the parlor.
    I was out of the house from the front, a direction where nobody could see me, while inside Katie hurriedly hid Emma and then ran upstairs herself. Then she waited for the man in his wagon to pull up and walk to the kitchen door while the boy who must have been his helper sat in the wagon. She had already opened a window looking right down over the kitchen door. When he got near enough, and trying to make her voice a little deeper like her mother’s, she called out loud enough so he could hear.
    “Katie, Mr. Davenport’s here with the ice,” she said in the pretend voice. “Will you go down and tell him we need four blocks.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” said Katie, changing her voice back to normal.
    Then she ran down the stairs, through the house, and opened the door.
    “Hello, Mr. Davenport,” she said.
    “Good morning, Kathleen. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to make it last month. I take it you need some ice?”
    “Yes, sir. Four blocks please. You can put it in the ice cellar.”
    He walked back to where he had parked the wagon next to the ice cellar.
    By then I was just getting to the slave cabins. I hurried inside the one we’d got ready and lit the fire we’d set. It only took a few seconds for the smoke to start drifting up through the chimney. I watched and waited about five minutes till the man and his boy had finished unloading the ice and taken them down the steps. When the man was walking back to the house, then I walked that way too. He and Katie were just starting to talk again when I came up. Katie looked toward me.
    “Oh, there you are, Mayme,” said Katie. “Mama wants to see you. She’s upstairs in the sewing room.”
    “Yes’m, Miz Kathleen,” I said, keeping my head down as I walked into the house.
    “How much is the bill for the ice, Mr. Davenport?” asked Katie.
    “Sixty cents for the four chunks.”
    “I’ll go ask mama about it.”
    Katie went inside, ran up the stairs, exchanged a look with me, got a few coins, and went back downstairs.
    “Here is half of it. Mama wants me to ask if we can pay you the rest when you come next month.”
    “Tell her that will be fine.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Davenport.”
    The ice man took the money, kind of looked about, saw the smoke coming from the fire I’d just lit, seemed to hesitate a second or two, then started walking back toward his wagon.
    “Uh, Mr. Davenport,” said Katie. “I just remembered. Do you know who might be able to fix our windows … who my mama might be able to get to fix them for us?” she added.
    He paused, turned, and looked back. “Why, Mr. Krebs, the glazier—your mama knows that,” he said.
    “Uh, yes … could you wait just a minute please?”
    Katie ran back inside. Mr. Davenport likely thought he heard voices talking from the open upstairs window. A minute later Katie returned.
    “Could you please tell Mr. Krebs that my mama would like him to come out and fix these four windows that got broken?”
    “All right … yes, all right, Miss Clairborne—I’ll talk to him. But—”
    “Thank you, Mr. Davenport,” said Katie, then turned, went back inside, and closed the door.
    By then I was nearly laughing to split my sides. Katie was some actress!
    I had been peeking out of one of the windows from behind a curtain. I watched as the man just stood there a few seconds watching Katie come back inside, then kinda shook his head with a puzzled expression, and finally went back to his wagon, got up, shouted to his horses, then rattled off toward the Thurston place.
    As soon as he was gone, I came running down the stairs