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Henry. He was only thirty when he came down with typhoid fever. I remember noticing that the dirt was still fresh on his grave when we buried Jack Henry next to him three weeks later. Mama and me cried and begged the Lord to give the fever to us. Mercifully, we were spared.
    “I declare, Mama looked like a scarecrow when Old Man Maxwell came calling a month later. I never had any use for that man the minute I laid eyes on him. Well, for one thing, he was old enough to be Mama’s daddy. Old Man Maxwell thought he was something because he owned the mercantile with a bait and tackle shop on the side. I tried to convince Mama we could make it on our own. I was getting pretty good at shucking oysters, and Mama took in wash from some of the fishermen. But she said I was too young to be burdened with such. I never could get her to understand she wasn’t apiece of property. And with his store and his land, Old Man Maxwell had the highest price.
    “For a while me and my newfound daddy tolerated one another. I even liked working in his store. I learned all about fabrics and studied the latest styles in the Sears and Roebuck catalog. By the time I turned fourteen, I was making dresses for me and Mama. And if I say so myself, they looked just as good as mail order.”
    I nervously chuckled and nodded my head in agreement, but Miss Claudia never drifted her attention away from the rosebuds outside her kitchen window.
    “Directly, Mama had another baby. Little Madeline. Oh, she was just the sweetest thing you ever did see. After the store closed, I’d hurry and get my lessons done so I could rock her before fixing supper. I liked to pretend I was Madeline’s mama. Problem was, Old Man Maxwell pretended I was her mama too. One evening when Mama was still in bed recovering from the birthing, he made his intentions known.
    “I was used to closing the store by myself, so I was surprised to look up and see Old Man Maxwell’s long, bearded face in the glass front door. The image disappeared as soon as I pulled the green shade down. But he had that musky scent, just like a water moccasin lets off before it strikes.
    “When I began cleaning out the cash register, he moved in on me. I edged away from the cash register, still clutching pennies in my hand. His old, prickly beard rubbed against my neck. I yelled for him to behave, but he just kept on with it. I can still feel his dry tongue on my neck. I reckon it was reflex that made me throw those pennies as hard as I could at his baggy eyes. It was the first time anybody ever slapped me on my face.
    “Poor Mama was so weak with anemia from having the baby that I thought it best not to talk about such things with her. I could fight him off, I decided that night with the coverspulled tight over my sweaty head. The next morning over his runny eggs, I looked him dead in the eye and told him if he ever tried to touch me again, he’d be sorry. The dishes in the kitchen cabinet plumb vibrated from his laughing.”
    Miss Claudia’s hand trembled when she adjusted her glasses. I was on alert, waiting for her to stop talking and go to crying—my cue to jump in and rescue her by changing the subject.
    “Mama got better, but my situation sure didn’t. Whenever I’d try to mention his behavior, she’d just start chirping about how Old Man Maxwell saved us from the poorhouse. To keep away from him, I started working in the bait and tackle shop. I’d dig for earthworms, slice minnows, and put weights on fishing line, anything to keep away from that creature. In the process I ran right into another one.
    “Luther Ranker was a regular in the bait shop. He owned two fishing boats and hired out three colored men to help him. Mama always said he tried to get by on his looks. He seemed sweet at first. Every day he’d come in the shop and tease me about us running off and getting married. I called him silly, handed him his minnows and new hooks, and sent him into the bay. Two months later I stood at