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next week to catch up. When will we know when Mama can talk to me?" I asked.
She shook her head. "I don't know, honey. Reuben will find out more tomorrow."
"He should have made more over William's spelling test," I mumbled. "And an eighty isn't such a great grade."
She looked at me with not so much fear in her eyes as cautious agreement. "I know," she said. "I've been after him to spend more time with William."
"I'm not so sure that would help," I muttered, mostly to myself. If she heard, she didn't respond. Then she paused and looked as if she saw a ghost. I turned.
Uncle Reuben was standing in the doorway.
"She should do that herself, Clara. You need to come in and rest," he ordered, his eyes burning through me.
"There's nothing left to do, Reuben."
He continued to stare. Had he heard me?
"All right, Reuben. I'm coming," she said. She wiped her hands on a dish towel and left the kitchen. He let her pass, glanced at me again, and then followed her.
From what I had seen already, I realized Uncle Reuben whipped his family around this house with a look, a word, a gesture. He was the puppet master, and they jumped when he tugged at their strings.
I felt as if he was tying strings around my arms and legs, too, and soon I would be just another puppet.
After finishing my homework, I made my bed and changed into the one nightgown I owned. Lying there and staring out through my one window at the stars that popped in between passing clouds, I thought that somehow I had been turned into Cinderella without the magic slipper or fairy godmother. There would be no magic in my life.
Once, I spent my time dreaming about far-off places, beautiful houses, handsome young men, gala dances, beautiful clothes and jewels. I was in my own movie, spinning out the scenes on the walls of my imagination. It took me out of the small apartment.
I had to laugh.
Here I was, out, with a family, going to a new school, and what did I dream of?
Getting back to my small apartment.
I actually grew to like the new school. Because my classes were much smaller, the teachers took more time with me, and I also began to make some friends. Jennifer continued to avoid me as much as possible, but I began to accept it. From what I saw of the friends she had, girls who were mostly like her, selfish, vain, and sneaky, I more than accepted it. I welcomed it. There were much nicer kids to know.
Jennifer was far from the goody-goody she pretended to be in front of Uncle Reuben, too. She was right in there with the girls who smoked in the girls' room, and from what I was told and what I saw, she often cheated on her homework and tests. I could see that her teachers weren't very fond of her, either. Terri Johnson told me she knew for a fact that Jennifer and her friends went on shoplifting sprees at the mall just for the thrill of it. Here she was, a girl with parents, a nice home, and all, and she wasn't any better than the girls I had known who came from broken families and who lived in much more unpleasant places. I wondered what Uncle Reuben would do if he found out any of this about his precious perfect daughter.
One day in the cafeteria, Jennifer paused with two of her friends at my table. I stopped talking and looked up at her.
"You've fallen behind on the laundry," she said. "I need that blue and white blouse tomorrow. See that it's done."
My mouth fell open as I looked from her to the smirking faces of her friends.
"Why don't you wash it yourself, then?" I shot back.
"You're supposed to be earning your room and board, aren't you?"
"What about you?" I countered.
"I don't have to. I have parents," she replied smugly. "Just get it done, or I'll tell Daddy," she threatened, and walked off laughing.
Terri looked down, embarrassed for me.
"She's a spoiled brat," I said. I wanted to say a lot more, but it was hard to talk. My words got choked in my throat because it was tight from fighting back my tears.
"I'd rather live with a snake than that," Terri offered, and the girls at