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talents. She ain’t usually so blinded by envy.” I opened my eyes and looked over at Matanni, who was biting her lower lip and fidgeting in her chair. “And most important, don’t forget about a little girl who has some very big secrets. Amen.”
    â€œAmen!” I said angrily, and looked up. My breath came in spurts, and I felt a pounding in my chest. Feeling my throat tighten, I panted, glanced anxiously at Patanni, and said, “You don’t need to pray for me!” My cheeks flamed, and the heat shot down my neck. “’Cause I don’t keep secrets, and I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I jumped up from my chair. It fell backward and thudded against the floor. “I ain’t a bad girl. I don’t need forgiveness,” I said, my eyes filling up, tears streaming down my face. “I ain’t bad, and you know it!” I cried. Stunned, Patanni just looked at me. “I ain’t bad,” I repeated, turning to Matanni, whose mouth trembled and head shook. “I ain’t bad,” I said again, as tears fell over my lip and my tongue wiped them away. “I thought you loved me,” I sobbed, a fresh pool of tears spilling over my cheeks.
    All at once, a thousand thoughts and feelings surfaced. But we do love you , my thoughts said. What you do in the root cellar ain’t bad. You’re not bad , they told me, just a mixture. Like the pokeweed .
    I rolled my eyes upward. “Pokeweed,” I acknowledged, sniffling, nodding my head. “Pokeweed. Pokeweed. Pokeweed,” I said.
    â€œHeavens, child, what’s wrong?” Matanni asked, pushing her plate away.
    â€œPokeweed. Pokeweed,” I repeated.
    You jerk and pop, but you ain’t no tattletale, my thoughts continued.
    â€œTattletale. Tattletale. Tattletale. Tattletale,” I said. “Tattletale. Tattletale. Tattletale. Tattletale,” I chanted.
    You’re a good girl , my thoughts declared. You won’t mention Mamie Tillman’s big belly .
    I nodded. “No, I won’t!” I said. I won’t say big belly. No, I won’t , my thoughts urged, ’cause I’m a good girl. No, no, no. I’ll never say big belly, I’ll never say those words . Frantically, I shook my head; then, before I knew it, before I understood what was happening, before any of my positive thoughts could save me, out slipped “Big belly.” Startled, I looked around, hunting for the culprit. “Big belly,” my mouth said again. “Great big belly.”
    â€œIcy!” Patanni came to himself. “Honey child, what is going on?” he asked, jerking upright.
    â€œBig belly! Big belly! Big belly!” I screamed, repeating what my troubled thoughts said. “Big belly! Big belly! Big Belly!” I hollered, until Patanni rushed forward and scooped me into his arms.
    My grandmother jumped up. “Virgil?” she said, twisting her head around like a bewildered chicken. “Virgil, I don’t understand.”
    â€œVirgil. Virgil. Virgil. Virgil,” I said, pressing my face against my grandfather’s chest. “Virgil. Virgil. Virgil,” I muttered. “Virgil. Virgil. Virgil.”
    Matanni moaned, was silent for a second, then took control. “Virgil, where’s that whiskey of yours?” she asked, scurrying toward the door.
    â€œIn Essie’s stall.” He patted my head. “Behind the bale of hay. Hurry, Tillie.”
    â€œTillie,” I said. “Tillie, Tillie, Tillie,” I cried.
    My grandfather clutched me to his barrel chest. “Icy,” he whispered, rubbing my back with his broad hands. “We do love you. More’n anything in the world.”
    More’n anything in the world , Patanni’s last sentence, took over my mind. World , his last word, loomed there, large and greedy. The world was big, and he loved me more’n anything in it. If I didn’t