Dollbaby

by Laura Lane McNeal

  Ibby followed Doll into the kitchen to greet them.

  “Did you get ahold of anybody?” Queenie asked Crow as he came in the back door.

  He scratched his head. “I phoned over to Roosevelt Jefferson. He got that tree-trimming business, you know.”

  “What he say?”

  “He gone come over take a look this afternoon, soon as he finish up another job.”

  “We got lots to do before the sun goes down,” Queenie said. “Got to get boards up on them windows—otherwise skeeters gone be buzzing around like they own the place.”

  “Understand.” Crow nodded.

  Queenie beckoned Birdelia and T-Bone inside. “Y’all come on in. Birdelia, you go on upstairs, see if you can help Doll clean up the mess in her sewing room. Crow, T-Bone, y’all follow me into the front room.”

  “What about me?” Ibby said.

  “Just try and stay out of the way, baby,” Queenie said.

  Ibby went up to her room and opened the window. Mr. Roosevelt and his crew had arrived with a large truck carrying heavy equipment. They were standing around the hole in the ground left from the uprooted tree, talking to Crow. The root ball was so big it reached far above Crow’s head. The hole left by the tree was much larger than she’d imagined, maybe eight feet wide and eight feet deep.

  As Mr. Roosevelt’s men began to sever the outer branches with chainsaws, Ibby leaned out the window to get a better look. Fannie had come out onto the front porch and was pacing back and forth with a strange look on her face.

  Ibby didn’t know why, but she felt sorry for the old tree, the way it was being hacked up. She thought back to Balfour and his accident. If that tree hadn’t been there, the balsa plane might not have gotten caught up in it and Balfour wouldn’t have crawled out on the gutter to get it. If he’d lived, her daddy wouldn’t have been sent off to boarding school, and Fannie wouldn’t have had a nervous breakdown. Could one tree do all that?

  Fannie had stopped pacing and her arms were dangling by her sides. Ibby wondered if Fannie was thinking the same thing.

  Mr. Roosevelt’s crew worked until sunset, but they’d only been able to clear away the branches from the inside of the house so that Crow and T-Bone could board up the windows for the evening. Fannie stayed on the porch, even after Mr. Roosevelt’s men left.

  “Come on now, Miss Fannie,” Queenie said. “They gone. It’s dark. I got some supper for you on the table.”

  But Fannie refused to come inside. She sat on the swing on the corner of the front porch until Queenie brought out a plate of food. Queenie sat on the swing with her, feeding her a bite of fried chicken every so often. Everyone inside held their breath, wondering if that swing could bear the weight of both of them.

  “What’s gotten into her?” Ibby asked from just inside the door.

  “Don’t know, baby,” Doll said.

  Now Doll was fidgeting too. Everyone seemed to be on edge ever since that tree came crashing down.

  Crow and T-Bone packed their tools into the truck.

  “We ready to go,” Crow said.

  “Just a minute.” Queenie waved him off. “Doll, come over here and help me get Miss Fannie in the house. Miss Ibby, might need your help too.”

  Fannie’s hand began to shake uncontrollably as they lifted her from the swing.

  Ibby helped Doll get her to her room. Queenie came in behind them as Doll stretched Fannie out on the bed. As Queenie took off Fannie’s shoes, the look on Fannie’s face never changed.

  She looked as if she’d seen a ghost.

  The next morning, as soon as the sun was up, Fannie was up, too, pacing on the front porch in her housedress and slippers. Queenie had to coax her inside to get dressed, but once Mr. Roosevelt arrived, she was back on the porch, watching.

  Ibby and Queenie stood in the doorway for a while, watching, too.

  “What is it about that tree that has her so uptight?” Ibby asked.

  “Who knows?” Queenie said offhandedly.

  “How old do you think that tree was anyway?”

  “Why you want to know?”

  “Just curious.”

  “Old enough,” Queenie said under her breath. She appeared irritated by the question.

  Fannie stayed out there most of the morning, watching Mr. Roosevelt and his men saw branches from the tree and drag them over to the grinder.

  Queenie came out at one point and said, “Miss Fannie, Wimbledon about to come on. Don’t you want to come in and watch it?”

  Fannie shook her head. That’s when Ibby knew something was wrong. Fannie never missed Wimbledon. Ibby sat with Fannie on the porch swing for a while, trying to engage her in conversation, but Fannie never spoke a word. She just sat there, watching the tree. After a while, Ibby gave up and went upstairs. She stopped in her father’s room to look for the urn. When she opened the armoire, it still wasn’t there.

  Ibby went across the hall to Doll’s sewing room, where she found Birdelia dancing around to an Aretha Franklin song playing on the radio. Doll was standing out on the upstairs balcony, watching the goings-on in the front yard.

  Doll came inside. “You need something, Miss Ibby?”

  “Daddy’s urn isn’t in the armoire. Do you know what happened to it?”

  “Oh Lawd, Miss Ibby. I forgot, you know, with everything that’s been going on. A few weeks back, Miss Fannie asked where that urn was, so I brought it down for her and set it on the dining room table, thinking she just wanted to look at it for a spell. Then when I came back downstairs a little while later, Miss Fannie was gone. That urn, it was gone, too.”

  “Oh,” Ibby said. “I just thought you’d moved it.”

  “No, baby. I didn’t move it. Figured Miss Fannie had taken the urn out for a joyride in that new car of hers, but when she came back, she didn’t have the urn with her. When I asked her where it was, she said next to Balfour.”

  “What did she mean, ‘next to Balfour’?” Ibby asked.

  “You know, in the cemetery.”

  Ibby looked at the floor. “I guess she wanted Daddy to have a proper burial. You know how she’s always talking about proper burials. I just wish she would have told me.”

  “Well, yeah, that would have been the best thing, but you know Miss Fannie. She got her own way of doing things.”

  “That’s for sure,” Birdelia piped in.

  Doll nodded over at Birdelia. “Listen, girls, why don’t you go catch yourselves a movie over at the Prytania Theatre? No use hanging around here.”

  Birdelia waved her hand. “Good idea. Come on, Miss Ibby.”

  “You run on downstairs, Birdelia. There’s something I want to talk to Miss Ibby about, alone.”

  As soon as Birdelia left, Doll shut the door. She had a strange look on her face.

  “Come on over here, Miss Ibby.” Doll sat on the settee across from her sewing machine and pulled a yellow piece of paper from her pocket. “This telegram came for you this morning. I been holding on to it until the right time, but Miss Ibby, there ain’t never a right time.” She handed it to Ibby.

  Ibby took it from her and sat next to her on the settee. It was a telegram from an attorney in California. Ibby read it aloud. “‘This is to inform you, as next of kin, that Vidrine Crump Bell’”—Ibby paused—“‘has passed away of natural causes. As per her last request, her body will be cremated and her ashes spread into the Pacific Ocean.’”

  Ibby’s hand dropped to her lap and the telegram slipped to the floor. She felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. Over the last four years, she’d spent hours thinking of what she might say to her mother if she came back. She’d never expected it to end like this. No last words. No goodbyes. No I’m sorry.

  “I know you’re upset,” Doll said, touching her hand.

  “I hated my mother for leaving me here.”r />
  “I thought you liked it here.”

  “That’s not it. I hated my mother for not caring enough to come back for me.” She put her head in her hands.

  Doll slipped her arm around Ibby’s shoulders. “Oh, baby. I don’t think it was like that. I think your mother just lost her way. That’s all. I know she loved you.”

  “And how do you know that?” Ibby said flatly.

  “’Cause she told me so herself,” Doll said.

  Ibby looked at Doll. “What? When would she have told you?”

  Doll drew in a deep breath. “Miss Vidrine came by the house a few weeks ago.”

  Ibby jumped up. “Why didn’t you tell me? My mother came back, and you didn’t tell me?”

  “Listen to me. Your mama came by to tell you she was sorry.”

  “I bet,” Ibby said, trying hard to hold back tears.

  “I think she meant it, Miss Ibby. She say she didn’t mean for it to happen this way. She didn’t mean to get sick. She thought you’d be better off here, with Miss Fannie. She was destitute, Miss Ibby. She had no place to go.”

  “Then why didn’t she come here? Why didn’t she ask Fannie if she could stay here?”

  “’Cause I think she was too proud. I think she wanted you to remember her the way she was. She asked me to give you this.” Doll pulled the ring from her pocket.

  Ibby wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and took the ring from Doll. “It’s her wedding ring. The one Daddy gave her.”

  “She told me to be sure and tell you she loved you.”

  Ibby slipped the ring onto her finger and toyed with it. “Did she really say that, or are you just making that up to make me feel better?”

  “Your mama asked me not to say anything until she passed. It’s been on my mind ever since she came by, a few days before your party.”

  “So she was here.” Ibby twisted the ring on her finger.

  “Yes, Miss Ibby.”

  “Does Fannie know?”

  “No, baby. I was afraid if I let on to Miss Fannie, she might go riding around trying to find Miss Vidrine. I didn’t tell no one, not even Queenie.”

  “I went looking for my mother, you know. That day I came home in the rain, I had gone looking for her.”

  “I figured as much,” Doll said.

  “She didn’t want me to find her.”

  “No, Miss Ibby. I feel for sure she wanted to see you, but she was very sickly. I don’t think she wanted you to see her that way.”

  “I just wanted to see her one last time.”

  “Miss Ibby, I’m sorry if I done wrong, but I handled it the best way I knew how.”

  Ibby wiped another tear from her cheek. “Don’t say anything to Fannie. I don’t think she could handle the news right now. That tree had her all worked up for some reason. I’ll tell her in my own good time.”

  “If that’s the way you want it.” Doll grabbed Ibby’s hand. “I know it’s a shock.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Not now. Not ever.” Ibby yanked her hand away and hurried toward the door.

  She found Birdelia standing in the driveway, waiting for her.

  “What my mama want with you?”

  “Nothing,” Ibby sniffled.

  “You mad about something?”

  “No.”

  “You look mad,” Birdelia said.

  “Forget about it.”

  “What my mama say got you so upset?” Birdelia asked. “You been crying?”

  Ibby ignored her questions. “Let’s go.”

  When they got to the end of the driveway, they could see Fannie sitting idly on the porch swing with her feet dangling and her head hung low, as if she were thinking about something that had happened a long time ago.

  T-Bone was out in the yard, helping his father clean up after the tree men. He put down his rake and came over to speak to them.

  “I got a gig over at the Union Hall on Tchoupitoulas tomorrow night. Why don’t you and Birdelia come catch me play?”

  Ibby didn’t answer. She was looking past him, at Fannie.

  Please don’t leave me, Fannie. You’re all the family I have, now that Mama’s gone.

  “Miss Ibby, did you hear me?” T-Bone asked.

  Birdelia poked Ibby. “Ain’t you gone answer T-Bone?”

  Ibby drew her eyes away from her grandmother and looked at T-Bone. “I’m sorry. I’ve just got something on my mind. I’d love to hear you play tomorrow night.”

  “Awright then.” T-Bone lifted his hand in a kind of backward wave and sauntered off.

  When they got back from the movie, Mr. Roosevelt and his men were wrapping up for the day. From the looks of it, they’d gotten only about half the tree.

  Fannie was back to pacing on the porch. Queenie was waddling along next to her, but she wasn’t consoling Fannie, as she’d done the day before, and the day before that.

  This time Queenie had a worrisome look on her face too.

  That night Ibby had trouble falling asleep. She couldn’t get her mother out of her mind. She remembered what Doll had told her not too long ago, that it hurt to love sometimes. Ibby wondered if there was ever a time when love didn’t hurt.

  She leaned over and opened the window. The smell of sawdust hung in the air as a passing cloud draped the tree in an eerie shadow, making the roots look like bony fingers reaching up from the depths of the earth. There was something sad about the tree, the way it was sprawled on its side with its outer branches cut off. Ibby rubbed her arms, thinking about her mother, feeling alone and exposed, just like the tree down below.

  She heard a rustling noise. She didn’t think much of it at first—probably just a wandering raccoon scurrying down the alley on the left side of the house. Then she heard it again, a scuffle below the window. She turned the light off in her room and peered down, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. She could just make out some sort of shadow hovering near the edge of the hole left by the tree. Was it an animal? Whatever it was seemed to be looking for a way to get down into the hole.

  “Who’s there?” Ibby called out.

  There was no answer.

  “Anyone there?” she said again.

  She hurried down the stairs and out the back door, hoping to catch whatever it was that might be down there, but when she got to the front of the house, all she saw was a stray cat skidding across the yard.

  Perhaps I’m just spooked by what Doll told me today, about my mother, Ibby thought.

  When she peeked over the edge of the hole, she felt the earth move beneath her feet. She jumped back. I’m a fool, Ibby thought. There’s no one here.

  Ibby made her way to the back of the house and went inside. When she started up the stairs, she was startled by a noise coming from the landing. She froze. Was there someone in the house? She was trying to decide if she should run next door for help when she heard a small voice.

  “Let me in.”

  Ibby was surprised to find Fannie on the landing in her bare feet and white nightie, trying to open the door at the top of the stairs. She kept twisting the knob and pushing her shoulder against the door, repeating the same words.

  “Little Mama. Little Mama.”

  From the look in Fannie’s eyes, Ibby thought she might be sleepwalking.

  “What’s wrong, Fannie?” Ibby came a little closer.

  “The room. It’s locked.” Fannie pointed at the door.

  “I know.”

  “Open it.”

  “I can’t. I don’t have the key.” She put her hand on her grandmother’s back, trying to calm her.

  Fannie tussled with the knob. “Open it.”

  “I told you, Fannie. I don’t have the key.”

  Fannie tried the knob once more, then looked over at Ibby with exasperation. �
�Little Mama is in there.”

  “Who’s Little Mama?”

  Fannie shook her head.

  “Come on, Fannie, let’s go back down to your room.”

  “No!” she cried. “I need to get Little Mama out!”

  Her outburst startled Ibby, but she tried to remain calm for fear she might upset Fannie more. As it was, Fannie was wringing her hands and looked as if she were about to cry.

  Ibby gently coaxed Fannie away from the door, trying to think of a way to get her back down the stairs. “Let’s come back tomorrow, okay? I think Little Mama is asleep. We don’t want to disturb Little Mama when she’s asleep, do we?” She kept talking as she led Fannie down the stairs, Fannie’s dirty feet leaving marks on each step as they went along.

  After Ibby managed to get Fannie settled in her bed, she closed the door and took a deep breath. Had something happened in that room? And who was Little Mama? No one had ever mentioned her.

  She went back to the top of the stairs, to the locked room that Fannie had been trying to get into. All the rooms on the second floor were accounted for except this one. She shook her head. There was so much about her family she still didn’t know.

  After four years of living in this house, it was still holding secrets from her.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The next evening, after Mr. Roosevelt and his men left, Ibby went up to her room to get ready for her rendezvous with Birdelia to watch T-Bone play at Union Hall. She slipped on a skirt and a top, and at the last minute, she added an extra dab of Wild Orchid No. 7 perfume. She tried to sneak past Fannie, who was watching the Steeplechase horse races on the television. She’d almost made it to the kitchen when she heard Fannie call after her.

  “You going somewhere, young lady?”

  “Oh, um, yes ma’am. Just out for a little while.”

  “With whom?”

  Ibby knew Fannie probably wouldn’t approve of her going out to meet T-Bone at a dance club. She hesitated. “With some friends,” she said.

  “What friends?”

  “You, know, just some friends from school. And I might meet up with Birdelia.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Over to Union Hall to hear some music.”