Page 27 of You Can Leave Your Hat On

“I’m shore it do, honey, but it ain’t. Devil didn’t give it to you. Angels did. You gotta make the most of it.” The woman turned back to look at the oldest one, stared for a few seconds, then pivoted back to Maisey. “Okay, I’m-a tell ya what ya come here fer. When Mammy over here,” she said, pointing to the ancient woman, “had me, she were fourteen. When I had my girl, I was fourteen. When she had her girl, she was sixteen. And when that girl had her baby at sixteen, it were Hazel.” Before Maisey could speak, she added, “Yes, yes, Mammy here is Hazel’s great-great-grandma.” Maisey did the math quickly. Knowing that Hazel was forty-three when she was killed, the old woman was at least one hundred and three years old. “I think the very first words outta Hazel’s mouth when she was old enough to talk were, ‘I’m leavin’ here and I ain’t never comin’ back.’ She hated this place. Didn’t want nothin’ to do with it.”

“So when did she leave?”

“She done so good in high school that she got one-a them… what they call ’em?”

“Scholarship?” Maisey offered.

“Yep. One-a them scholarship things. Got outta here right away after she gradiated,” she said, and Maisey wasn’t about to correct her. “Got a job in town near the university, shared a lil’ place with friends. Didn’t want no part of the hicks out here in the sticks, know what I’m sayin’?”

“I think all kids feel that way about where they grew up,” Maisey said.

“I reckon you’d be right ’bout that. We was so proud-a her, but she didn’t even invite us to her gradiation. Just ignored us like we ain’t people, like she were raised by some animals or somethin’ out in the woods and didn’t have no family. Hurt, ya know?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sure it did, and I’m sorry for that.”

“So we didn’t see her much. Just ever once in a while. When her mama died with that heart attack all sudden-like, I was glad. At least she didn’t linger and suffer only to know her baby girl weren’t interested in seein’ her in her last days.” Maisey nodded in understanding. Hazel might’ve been eager to get away from where she’d grown up, but she’d totally turned her back on her family, and even though Maisey’s mom had given her grief over her gift, Maisey could never turn her back on Molly.

“You asked me what she was doing all dressed up.” The old woman nodded. “I really don’t know. Dinner maybe? I’m not sure.”

“Uh-huh.” The woman nodded and stood there, almost like she was trying to figure out what to say next. “So did they at least give her a Christian burial? Like put her in the ground and pray over her? ’Cause nobody ever come ’round here to ask us what we thought or wanted.”

That made Maisey’s heart sad. “I think so. I’m not sure, but I can definitely find out and let you know.”

“Would you? We’d ’preciate that.”

“I will. Oh, I never did tell you my name. I’m MaiseyFriedman and I’m?”

“A social worker,” the woman interrupted.

Maisey was taken aback. “How’d you know that?”

“Tole you, we know things. I’m Zora, and this is my mammy, Beulah. You best be runnin’ on now. Yore husband gonna be lookin’ for ya.”

“How’d you know that… Right, right. You know things.” Maisey felt like some kind of trick was being played on her, but she wasn’t sure how or why. As she stood to leave, she was struck by the desire to stay and talk to these women. “If I learn anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Thank ya. I know ya didn’t have to come out here to talk to us, but I’m glad ya did. You take care drivin’ home now,” Zora told her, and Maisey smiled. But when she reached for the woman’s hand, Zora pulled hers back. “No shakin’ hands.”

“Oh, sorry,” Maisey said. She’d broken some kind of rule and she hadn’t meant to.

But Zora cleared that right up. “Nothin’ to be sorry ’bout. Just managed to live this long and don’t want no germs, ya know?”

That made sense to the younger woman. “I get it. Y’all take care, okay?”

“We will. Mammy says goodbye too,” Zora said. To Maisey’s surprise, Zora stopped right at the threshold, and a shiver ran up Maisey’s spine.

“Sure is a pretty day out here,” Maisey told her with a smile.

“Yep. Wish I could… Take care now,” Zora said and slammed the door, then opened it right back up and yelled out, “And that there baby’s gonna be a boy.”

Maisey stopped dead and spun. “I’m not pregnant.”

She could hear the very, very old woman laughing again in the background when Zora said, “No. Not yet.” Then the door slammed and it was silent.

Maisey slid behind the wheel, started the car, and headed out. The whole thing had been unbelievably weird. She was four miles down the road before she finally had enough of a signal to make a call, and her favorite deputy’s phone only rang once on her end before he said, “Hey, gorgeous, did it go okay?”

“Yeah. Very weird, but fine. I’ll tell you when I get home. But suffice it to say, they knew nothing. Hadn’t talked to Hazel in a long time. She’d pretty much shunned them.”

“Aww, that’s a shame. I hate to hear of kids doing that to their families.”

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