THE NEXT DAY AT WORK, al I can think about is how stores is putting my book on the shelves. I mop, I iron, I change diapers, but I don’t hear a word about it in Miss Leefolt’s house. It’s like I ain’t even written a book. I don’t know what I spected— some kind a stirring—but it’s just a regular old hot Friday with flies buzzing on the screen.
That night six maids in the book cal my house asking has anybody said anything. We linger on the line like the answer’s gone change if we
breathe into the phone long enough.
Miss Skeeter cal last. “I went by the Bookworm this afternoon. Stood around awhile, but nobody even picked it up.”
“Eula say she went by the colored bookstore. Same thing.”
“Alright,” she sigh.
But al that weekend and then into the next week, we don’t hear nothing. The same old books set on Miss Leefolt’s nightstand: Frances
Benton’s Etiquette, Peyton Place, that old dusty Bible she keep by the bed for show. But Law if I don’t keep glancing at that stack like a stain.
By Wednesday, they stil ain’t even a ripple in the water. Not one person’s bought a copy in the white bookstore. The Farish Street store say
they done sold about a dozen, which is good. Might a just been the other maids, though, buying for they friends.
On Thursday, day seven, before I even left for work, my phone ring.
“I’ve got news,” Miss Skeeter whisper. I reckon she must be locked up in the pantry again.
“What happen?”
“Missus Stein cal ed and said we’re going to be on the Dennis James show.”
“People Will Talk? The tee-vee show?”
“Our book made the book review. She said it’l be on Channel Three next Thursday at one o’clock.”
Law, we gone be on WLBT-TV! It’s a local Jackson show, and it come on in color, right after the twelve o’clock news.
“You think the review gone be good or bad?”
“I don’t know. I don’t even know if Dennis reads the books or just says what they tel him to.”
I feel excited and scared at the same time. Something got to happen after that.
“Missus Stein said somebody must’ve felt sorry for us in the Harper and Row publicity department and made some cal s. She said we’re the
first book she’s handled with a publicity budget of zero.”
We laugh, but we both sound nervous.
“I hope you get to watch it at Elizabeth’s. If you can’t, I’l cal you and tel you everything they said.”
ON FRIDAY NIGHT, a week after the book come out, I get ready to go to the church. Deacon Thomas cal me this morning and ask would I come to a
special meeting they having, but when I ask what about, he get al in a hurry and say he got to go. Minny say she got the same thing. So I iron up a
nice linen dress a Miss Greenlee’s and head to Minny’s house. We gone walk there together.
As usual, Minny’s house be like a chicken coop on fire. Minny be hol ering, things be flinging around, al the kids squawking. I see the first
hint a Minny’s bel y under her dress and I’m grateful she final y showing. Leroy, he don’t hit Minny when she pregnant. And Minny know this so I spec
they’s gone be a lot more babies after this one.
“Kindra! Get your butt off that floor!” Minny hol er. “Them beans better be hot when your daddy wakes up!”
Kindra—she seven now—she sass-walk her way to the stove with her bottom sticking out and her nose up in the air. Pans go banging al
over the place. “Why I got to do dinner? It’s Sugar’s turn!”
“Cause Sugar at Miss Celia’s and you want a live to see third grade.”
Benny come in and squeeze me round the middle. He grin and show me the tooth he got missing, then run off.
“Kindra, turn that flame down fore you burn the house down!”
“We better go, Minny,” I say, cause this could go on al night. “We gone be late.”
Minny look at her watch. Shake her head. “Why Sugar ain’t home yet? Miss Celia ain’t never kept me this late.”
Last week, Minny started bringing Sugar to work. She getting her trained for when Minny have her baby and Sugar gone have to fil in for her.
Tonight Miss Celia ask Sugar to work late, say she drive her home.
“Kindra, I don’t want a see so much as a bean setting in that sink when I get back. Clean up good now.” Minny give her a hug. “Benny, go tel
Daddy he better get his fool self out a that bed.”
“Aww, Mama, why I—”
“Go on, be brave. Just don’t stand too close when he come to.”
We make it out the door and down to the street fore we hear Leroy hol ering at Benny for waking him up. I walk faster so she don’t go back
and give Leroy what he good for.
“Glad we going to church tonight,” Minny sigh. We round Farish Street, start up the steps. “Give me a hour a not thinking about it al .”
Soon as we step in the church foyer, one a the Brown brothers slip behind us and he lock the door. I’m about to ask why, would a got scared
if I had the time, but then the thirty-odd peoples in the room start clapping. Minny and me start clapping with em. Figure somebody got into col ege
or something.
“Who we clapping for?” I ask Rachel Johnson. She the Reverend wife.
She laugh and it get quiet. Rachel lean in to me.
“Honey, we clapping for you.” Then she reach down and pul a copy a the book out a her purse. I look around and now everbody got a copy
in they hands. Al the important officers and church deacons are there.
Reverend Johnson come up to me then. “Aibileen, this is an important time for you and our church.”
“You must a cleaned out the bookstore,” I say, and the crowd laugh real polite-like.
“We want you to know, for your safety, this wil be the only time the church recognizes you for your achievement. I know a lot of folks helped
with this book, but I heard it couldn’t have been done without you.”
I look over and Minny’s smiling, and I know she in on it too.
“A quiet message has been sent throughout the congregation and al of the community, that if anyone knows who’s in the book or who wrote it, it’s not to be discussed. Except for tonight. I’m sorry”—he smile, shake his head—“but we just couldn’t let this go by without some kind of
celebration.”
He hand me the book. “We know you couldn’t put your name in it, so we al signed our own for you.” I open up the front cover and there they
is, not thirty or forty names, but hundreds, maybe five hundred, in the front pages, the back pages, along the rim a the inside pages. Al the peoples
in my church and folks from other churches too. Oh, I just break down then. It’s like two years a doing and trying and hoping al come out at once.
Then everbody get in a line and come by and hug me. Tel me I’m brave. I tel em there are so many others that are brave too. I hate to hog al the
attention, but I am so grateful they don’t mention no other names. I don’t want em in trouble. I don’t think they even know Minny’s in there.
“There may be some hard times ahead,” Reverend Johnson say to me. “If it comes to that, the Church wil help you in every way.”
I cry and cry right there in front a everbody. I look over at Minny, and she laughing. Funny how peoples show they feelings in different ways. I
wonder what Miss Skeeter would do if she was here and it kind a makes me sad. I know ain’t nobody in town gone sign a book for her and tel her
she brave. Ain’t nobody gone tel her they look after her.
Then the Reverend hands me a box, wrapped in white paper, tied with light blue ribbon, same colors as the book. He lays his hand on it as a
blessing. “This one, this is for the white lady. You tel her we love her, like she’s our o
wn family.”
ON THURSDAY, I wake up with the sun and go to work early. Today’s a big day. I get my kitchen work done fast. One a clock come and I make sure I got
my ironing al set up in front a Miss Leefolt’s tee-vee, tuned to Channel Three. Li’l Man taking his nap and Mae Mobley at school.
I try and iron some pleats, but my hands is shaking and they come out al crooked. I spray it wet and start al over, fussing and frowning.
Final y, the time comes.
In the box pops Dennis James. He start tel ing us what we gone discuss today. His black hair is sprayed down so heavy, it don’t even move.
He is the fastest talking Southern man I ever heard. Make me feel like I’m on a rol er-coaster way he make his voice go. I’s so nervous I feel like I’m on throw up right here on Mister Raleigh’s church suit.
“…and we’l end the show with the book review.” After the commercial, he do something on Elvis Presley’s jungle room. Then he do a piece
on the new Interstate 55 they gone build, going through Jackson al the way to New Orleans. Then, at 1:22 p.m., a woman come set next to him by
the name a Joline French. She say she the local book reviewer.
That very second, Miss Leefolt walk in the house. She al dressed up in her League outfit and her noisy high heels and she head straight for
the living room.
“I am so glad that heat wave is over I could jump for joy,” she say.
Mister Dennis chatting bout some book cal ed Little Big Man. I try to agree with her but I feel real stiff in the face al of a sudden. “I’l —I’l just turn this thing off.”
“No, keep it on!” say Miss Leefolt. “That’s Joline French on the television set! I better cal Hil y and tel her.”
She clomp to the kitchen and get on the phone with Miss Hil y’s third maid in a month. Ernestine ain’t got but one arm. Miss Hil y pickings
getting slim.
“Ernestine, this is Miss Elizabeth…Oh, she’s not? Wel , you tel her the minute she walks in that our sorority sister is on the television set…
That’s right, thank you.”
Miss Leefolt rush back in the living room and set on the sofa, but it’s a commercial on. I get to breathing hard. What is she doing? We ain’t
never watched the tee-vee together before. And here a al days she front and center like she be watching herself on screen!
Al a sudden the Dial soap commercial over. And there be Mister Dennis with my book in his hand! White bird look bigger than life. He
holding it up and poking his finger at the word Anonymous. For two seconds I’m more proud than I is scared. I want to yel — That’s my book! That’s my book on the tee-vee! But I got to keep stil , like I’m watching something hum-drum. I can’t barely breathe!
“…cal ed Help with testimonies from some of Mississippi’s very own housekeepers—”
“Oh, I wish Hil y was home! Who can I cal ? Look at those cute shoes she’s got on, I bet she got those at the Papagal o Shoppe.”
Please shut up! I reach down and turn it up a little, but then I wish I hadn’t. What if they talk about her? Would Miss Leefolt even recognize her own life?
“…read it last night and now my wife is reading it…” Mister Dennis talking like a auction man, laughing, eyebrows going up and down,
pointing at our book. “…and it is truly touching. Enlightening, I’d say, and they used the made-up town of Nicevil e, Mississippi, but who knows?” He
halfway cover his mouth, whisper real loud, “It could be Jackson!”
Say what?
“Now, I’m not saying it is, it could be anywhere, but just in case, you need to go get this book and make sure you aren’t in it! Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha
—”
I freeze, feel a tingle on my neck. Ain’t nothing in there that say Jackson. Tel me again it could be anywhere, Mister Dennis!
I see Miss Leefolt smiling at her friend on the tee-vee like the fool can see her, Mister Dennis be laughing and talking, but that sorority sister,
Miss Joline, got a face on red as a stop sign.
“—a disgrace to the South! A disgrace to the good Southern women who’ve spent their lives taking care of their help. I know I personal y
treat my help like family and every one of my friends does the same—”
“Why is she frowning like that on tee-vee?” Miss Leefolt whine at the box. “Joline!” She lean forward and tap-tap-tap her finger on Miss
Joline’s forehead. “Don’t frown! You don’t look cute that way!”
“Joline, did you read that ending? About the pie? If my maid, Bessie Mae, is out there listening, Bessie Mae, I have a new respect for what
you do every day. And I’l pass on the chocolate pie from now on! Ha-Ha-Ha—”
But Miss Joline holding up the book like she want to burn it. “Do not buy this book! Ladies of Jackson, do not support this slander with your
husbands’ hard-earned—”
“Huh?” Miss Leefolt ask Mister Dennis. And then poof—we on to a Tide commercial.
“What were they talking about?” Miss Leefolt ask me.
I don’t answer. My heart’s pounding.
“My friend Joline had a book in her hand.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What was it cal ed? Help or something like that?”
I press the iron point down in the col ar a Mister Raleigh’s shirt. I got to cal Minny, Miss Skeeter, find out if they heard this. But Miss Leefolt
standing there waiting for my answer and I know she ain’t gone let up. She never do.
“Did I hear them say it was about Jackson?” she say.
I keep right on staring at my iron.
“I think they said Jackson. But why don’t they want us to buy it?”
My hands is shaking. How can this be happening? I keep ironing, trying to make what’s beyond wrinkled smooth.
A second later, the Tide commercial’s over and there’s Dennis James again holding up the book and Miss Joline’s stil al red in the face.
“That’s al for today,” he say, “but y’al be sure and pick up your copy of Little Big Man and Help from our sponsor, the State Street Bookstore. And see for yourself, is it or is it not about Jackson?” And then the music come on and he hol er, “Good day, Mississippi!”
Miss Leefolt look at me and say, “See that? I told you they said it was about Jackson!” and five minutes later, she off to the bookstore to buy
herself a copy a what I done wrote about her.
MINNY
CHAPTER 30
AFTER THE People Will Talk show, I grab the Space Command and punch the “Off” button. My stories are about to come on, but I don’t even care.
Doctor Strong and Miss Julia wil just have to turn the world without me today.
I’ve a mind to cal that Dennis James on the phone and say, Who do you think you are, spreading lies like that? You can’t tel the whole
metro area our book is about Jackson! You don’t know what town we’ve written our book about!
I’l tel you what that fool’s doing. He’s wishing it was about Jackson. He’s wishing Jackson, Mississippi, was interesting enough to write a
whole book on and even though it is Jackson…wel , he doesn’t know that.
I rush to the kitchen and cal Aibileen, but after two tries the line’s stil busy. I hang up. In the living room, I flip on the iron, yank Mister Johnny’s white shirt out of the basket. I wonder for the mil ionth time what’s going to happen when Miss Hil y reads the last chapter. She better get to work
soon, tel ing people it’s not our town. And she can tel Miss Celia to fire me al afternoon and Miss Celia won’t. Hating Miss Hil y’s the only thing that crazy woman and I have in common. But what Hil y’l do once that fails, I don’t know. That’l be our own war, between me and Miss Hil y. That won’t
affect the others.
Oh, now I’m in a bad mood. From where I’m ironing, I can see Miss Celia in the bac
kyard in a pair of hoochie pink satin pants and black
plastic gloves. She’s got dirt al over her knees. I’ve asked her a hundred times to quit digging dirt in her dress-up clothes. But that lady never
listens.
The grass in front of the pool is covered in yard rakes and hand tools. Al Miss Celia does now is hoe up the yard and plant more fancy
flowers. Never mind that Mister Johnny hired a ful -time yardman a few months ago, name of John Wil is. He was hoping he’d be some kind of
protection after the naked man showed up, but he’s so old he’s bent up like a paper clip. Skinny as one too. I feel like I have to check on him just to make sure he hasn’t stroked in the bushes. I guess Mister Johnny didn’t have the heart to send him home for somebody younger.
I spray more starch on Mister Johnny’s col ar. I hear Miss Celia hol ering instructions on how to plant a bush. “Those hydrangeas, let’s get us
some more iron in the dirt. Okay, John Wil is?”
“Yes’m,” John Wil is hol ers back.
“Shut up, lady,” I say. The way she hol ers at him, he thinks she’s the deaf one.
The phone rings and I run for it.
“OH MINNY,” Aibileen says on the phone. “They figure out the town, ain’t no time fore they figure out the people. ”
“He a fool is what he is.”
“How we know Miss Hil y even gone read it?” Aibileen says, her voice turning high. I hope Miss Leefolt can’t hear her. “Law, we should a
thought this through, Minny.”
I’ve never heard Aibileen like this. It’s like she’s me and I’m her. “Listen,” I say because something’s starting to make sense here. “Since
Mister James done made such a stink about it, we know she gone read it. Everbody in town gone read it now.” Even as I’m saying it, I’m starting to realize it’s true. “Don’t cry yet, cause maybe things is happening just the way they should.”
Five minutes after I hang it up, Miss Celia’s phone rings. “Miss Celia res—”
“I just talk to Louvenia,” Aibileen whisper. “Miss Lou Anne just come home with a copy for herself and a copy for her best friend, Hil y
Holbrook.”
Here we go.
ALL NIGHT LONG, I swear, I can feel Miss Hil y reading our book. I can hear
The Help Page 45