Aibileen shakes her head, then nods. Then shakes it again. We watch her and wait.

“If we put the Terrible Awful in the book and peopledo find out that was you and Miss Hilly, then you in so much trouble”—Aibileen shudders—“there ain’t even a name for it.”

“That’s a risk I’m just gone have to take. I already made up my mind. Either put it in or pull my part out altogether.”

Aibileen and Minny’s eyes hang on each other’s. We can’t pull out Minny’s section; it’s the last chapter of the book. It’s about getting fired nineteen times in the same small town. About what it’s like trying to keep the anger inside, but never succeeding. It starts with her mother’s rules of how towork for white women, all the way up to leaving Missus Walters. I want to speak up, but I keep my mouth shut.

Finally, Aibileen sighs.

“Alright,” Aibileen says, shaking her head. “I reckon you better tell her, then.”

Minny narrows her eyes at me. I pull out a pencil and pad.

“I’m only telling you for the book, you understand. Ain’t nobody sharing no heartfelt secrets here.”

“I’ll make us some more coffee,” Aibileen says.

ON THE DRIVE back to Longleaf, I shudder, thinking about Minny’s pie story. I don’t know if we’d be safer leaving it out or putting it in. Not to mention, if I can’t get it written in time to make the mail tomorrow, it will put us yet another day later, shorting our chances to make the deadline. I can picture the red fury on Hilly’s face, the hate she still feels for Minny. I know my old friend well. If we’re found out, Hilly will be our fiercest enemy. Even if we’re not found out, printing the pie story will put Hilly in a rage like we’ve never seen. But Minny’s right—it’s our best insurance.

I look over my shoulder every quarter mile. I keep exactly to the speed limit and stay on the back roads.They will beat us rings in my ears.

I WRITE ALL NIGHT, grimacing over the details of Minny’s story, and all the next day. At four in the afternoon, I jam the manuscript in a cardboard letter box. I quickly wrap the box in brown paper wrapping. Usually it takes seven or eight days, but it will somehow have to get to New York City in six days to make the deadline.

I speed to the post office, knowing it closes at four-thirty, despite my fear of the police, and rush inside to the window. I haven’t gone to sleep since night before last. My hair is literally sticking straight up in the air. The postman’s eyes widen.

“Windy outside?”

“Please. Can you get this out today? It’s going to New York.”

He looks at the address.“Out-a-town truck’s gone, ma’am. It’ll have to wait until morning.”

He stamps the postage and I head back home.

As soon as I walk in, I go straight to the pantry and call Elaine Stein’s office. Her secretary puts me through and I tell her, in a hoarse, tired voice, I mailed the manuscript today.

“The last editors’ meeting is in six days, Eugenia. Not only will it have to get here in time, I’ll have to have time to read it. I’d say it’s highly unlikely.”

There is nothing left to say, so I just murmur,“I know. Thank you for the chance.” And I add, “Merry Christmas, Missus Stein.”

“We call it Hanukkah, but thank you, Miss Phelan.”

Chapter 28

AFTER I HANG UP the phone, I go stand on the porch and stare out at the cold land. I’m so dog-tired I hadn’t even noticed Doctor Neal’s car is here. He must’ve arrived while I was at the post office. I lean against the rail and wait for him to come out of Mother’s room. Down the hall, through the open front door, I can see that her bedroom door is closed.

Дата добавления: 2015-10-31