Page 16 of Under the Tulip Tree
No matter. Miz Sadie took notice. “Is something wrong, Frances?”
I couldn’t tell her Aunt Liza pinched me, so I shook my head. I did wonder, however, why she called me Frances. “My name is Frankie,” I offered, feeling certain she would want to address me correctly.
I heard Aunt Liza’s soft intake of air, and her body went rigid beside me.
Master Hall chuckled, but Miz Sadie didn’t look pleased. “You will not use that name while you’re in this house, do you understand? You are Frances. Frankie is a boy’s name.”
I nodded, but I didn’t truly understand. Frankie was my name and I was a girl. Frances was also my grandmother’sname, but she died when I was a baby. I didn’t want people calling me by a dead person’s name.
Master Hall settled into a chair by the window. Aunt Liza moved to pour him a drink from a pretty glass bottle on a table with several other pretty bottles. She was rather stingy with whatever it was, since she only filled his glass halfway.
Seeing that golden liquid reminded me of my need to visit the outhouse.
I tried not to think about it because thinking about it made it worse.
I clamped my knees together.
When Aunt Liza returned to my side, she eyed me, shaking her head when I pointed toward the door.
Miz Sadie reminded Aunt Liza they would have guests the following evening, and the two women discussed the preparations needed.
As the conversation lengthened, so grew my need for the outhouse. It wasn’t long before I felt the tiniest trickle of warmth run down my leg into my new pantalets. I pressed my thighs together tighter and held my breath.
But it was too late.
Before I could keep it from happening, my bladder released itself on the parlor carpet.
My whimper drew Aunt Liza’s attention.
“Oh, lawsy!” She snatched me away from the puddle and shoved me into the corner where the carpet ended at wood flooring.
Miz Sadie shrieked, rising to her feet to jerk Charlotte away from the offensive wet stain.
I cowered in the corner, unsure what to do. I was too scared to cry, although tears sometimes worked to ease Mammy’s anger when I’d misbehaved. But something told me this offense was far worse than anything I’d ever been guilty of in the past.
Aunt Liza blotted the mess with the apron she’d removed from her thick waist. I wondered if I should volunteer to help but decided it was best to remain silent.
“Come here, Frances.”
Miz Sadie’s hard voice broke into my racing thoughts. She’d moved to stand near the fireplace, her hoot-owl face red with anger.
Wet pantalets stuck to my legs as I slowly walked toward her. I kept my eyes downcast so she’d know how sorry I was. When I stopped a short distance from her, she reached for the poker leaning against the marble of the fireplace.
“I will teach you to never do such a dreadful thing again.” She lifted the poker and brought it down on my head before I could react.
I screamed. When I saw her raise the poker again, I put my hand up as a shield. The metal slammed into my fingers. Unimaginable pain shot up my arm, and I screamed again.
“Stop this, Sadie.”
Master Hall took the poker from his wife, a troubled look on his face when he glanced at me. Charlotte stared withwide, frightened eyes, but Burton, who’d moved to where he could see better, simply crossed his arms and watched.
My body began to tremble and hot tears rolled down my cheeks. I clutched my injured hand to my chest, confused. I’d never before felt such pain, such fear. I wanted to run to the kitchen and tell Mammy what Miz Sadie done, but I couldn’t move.
Aunt Liza appeared at my side. “Tell Mistress Hall you sorry for all this trouble.”
I stared up at her. I’d just been struck with a fireplace poker, yet she wantedmeto apologize?
“Go on. Tell her.”
