by Alison Fish
Chapter 3
"What!" Ruthie scrambled to her feet, "What did you do to me! Were we in there all day? My master must think I ran away-especially after last night. Oh Lord, what am I going to do now? I'm as good as dead."
"Please calm down and let me explain," Amy pleaded with Ruthie. It took Amy some time to calm Ruthie down long enough to listen to Amy's explanation including the reminder that slavery was abolished two years earlier in Connecticut. Ruthie's raving began with renewed energy as she comprehended the truth of her situation.
"You're a heathen, a tool of the devil," Ruthie pointed at Amy, "and now you've made me one too. Oh God help me, Jesus save me!" Ruthie dropped to her knees and stretched her arms toward the cobweb-ridden rafters of the cellar, "And I know slavery was abolished but I didn't have anywhere else to go. My master and mistress let me stay and serve them so I could stay there."
"You're not a heathen and neither am I, Ruthie," Amy pleaded for her to listen. "Now, I want you to try to remember what happened to you last night after we met."
"I don't know, you must have put me in an evil trance. I can't remember anything," Ruthie closed her eyes and concentrated, "I remember you said you wanted to help me and then I don't remember anything else."
"Didn't you have any dreams while you slept?" Amy urged, "anything at all?"
Ruthie closed her eyes again and after some time said with surprise, "Yes, I do remember a flash or two of something. I saw my mama and some other people I don't know. My mama was smiling at me real peaceful like. She was never smiling and peaceful that I can remember. She was smiling in a way that made me feel like everything was gonna be all right. Then everything was black."
"See, you're mama was telling you that you're all right."
"No, how can it be, you made me a tool of the devil," Ruthie was in despair as she hugged herself.
"Do you still believe in heaven? That's where you saw your mama. She's in heaven," Amy explained with certainty.
"How can you say that my dream wasn't a dream, I really was in heaven visiting my mama?" Ruthie rolled her eyes as she stared at the floor.
"Because it's true, it happened to me when I died. You see we were only dead for a few hours but long enough to give us hope that we'll see our loved ones in heaven one day."
"Sinners don't go to heaven, Miss Amy, ain't you ever been to church?"
"I don't know how to explain it, but we have to have hope."
"But you kill people and now I have to kill people too. You just told me that. Maybe I should just sit outside till the sun comes up and kill myself before I kill someone else."
"But Ruthie," Amy tried to console her, "you don't have to kill people to survive, you can feed off them without killing them. You can feed off animals as well."
"Oh Lord, help me," Ruthie called to the ceiling again.
"Please, Ruthie, let me tell you how much better your life will be now. Were you happy as a slave?"
"No, I hated being a slave, being some white peoples' property. But at least I was living the life the good Lord gave me. I don't know why He didn't make me white. I don't know why he made me a slave."
"He didn't make you a slave, Ruthie, white men did."
"You have strange ideas for a white girl, Miss."
"First, I want you to call me Amy without the 'miss.' I know it wasn't God who made you a slave. It was white men because last night when I drank your blood, it tasted exactly the same as white blood. There was no difference whatsoever, "Amy continued, "until last night I thought whites and blacks were different, that blacks weren't really human, or some other kind of human, but that all changed when I tasted your blood."
"You really are crazy." Ruthie remarked, "Of course white blood is the same as black blood. Blood is blood."
"All right, if you think I'm crazy, why do you worship a God you believe made you a slave?"
"You can't question the Lord. That will get you sent to hell just as quick as sinnin'."
"What I'm trying to prove is that you don't have to break any commandments to survive as a vampire. You can still practice your faith if you choose. In fact, you can do almost anything you wish as long as it's at night."
"Anything I wish?" Ruthie looked skeptical.
"Last night you were very upset about something. You were crying your eyes out. That's what got my attention. I heard your sobs. You said someone did something to you that was so horrible you refused to discuss it."
"I still won't."
"I'm not asking you to and I never will, but you now have the power to exact revenge on whoever hurt you so badly."
"Oh, no!" Ruthie shook her head adamantly, "I'd be happy if I just don't ever have to see him again."
"All right," Amy said, "It's your choice, but I wanted to let you know what kind of power you have now. You do have to feed off someone, you know, why not him?"
"I couldn't do that, never. The Lord will punish him on judgment day."
"At any rate," Amy closed the lid of her coffin, "we have to feed and now is the time to do so."
Amy remembered the first time she fed with Robert guiding her and teaching her how to hunt. The first time was a bit awkward, but it soon became the most natural thing in the world, like a baby at the breast. It was what she lived for, other than Robert.
Showing Ruthie how to become one with the shadows of the night, they slipped from the derelict farm house and made their way through the chill black night to the city where their relationship began less than twenty four hours earlier. The evening was still young, leaving many men exposed to the autumn air as they made their way home after a long day at work in the nearby mill.
"Don't you smell the blood?" Amy asked Ruthie as they stood in the shadow of an old maple tree that was vibrant with color during the day, but dark and dull at night. Leaves dropped randomly like the intermittent raindrops that precede a heavy storm and fluttered all around the young lovely stalkers.
"Yes, I do," Ruthie seemed surprised at the awareness of her new ability. The bloody aroma of the passersby was intoxicating and delicious, even better than the aroma of fresh baked goods, which was Ruthie's favorite scent. The irresistible fragrance made Ruthie's strange feeling of hunger deepen. But when she thought about what was causing that craving, what she now was, a night dwelling heathen, she felt slightly ashamed and felt she should repress the feeling. She didn't deserve to live. But if what Amy had told her was true, she could only be killed if she came in contact with daylight, if someone drove a wooden stake through her heart or if she was decapitated. Amy also described the superior physical strength she now possessed accompanied by speed and stamina unmatched in any mortal human. Suddenly her natural need to feed threatened to overcome her long held Christian beliefs.
"We can't feed here." Amy warned, "There are too many people about. We need to find a more secluded area. I only brought you here to demonstrate how you are now affected by the scent of fresh blood."
Still keeping in the shadows, Amy led Ruthie to the wharves where the bustling activity of the day had receded to a few night watchmen were left aboard the ships while the others entered the city to spend their wages. "Here is where we'll find our feast." Amy announced, "There are some men who drink their wages and return to the ships to sleep off the effects of the liquor."
"Heathens," murmured Ruthie as she followed Amy to a hiding place along the side of a carpenter's shop that was dark and deserted for the night where they could watch the waterfront without being seen.
"Yes," Amy continued, "the authorities expect to find these men unconscious and sick from their drink, giving us the opportunity to feed undiscovered. No one knows the difference between a man who has drunken himself to death and a man who has had his blood drained."
It wasn't long before they saw a drunken man staggering and mumbling along a nearby wharf unable to find the ship he had left a few hours earlier. Eventually, he gave up and, succumbing to fatigue he slumped to the ground against a shed and fell into a drunken
slumber.
"Now you will see just how strong you've become," Amy smiled at Ruthie while Ruthie looked questioningly at Amy's pale face in the moonlight, "I'll keep watch and you drag that man behind the shed where you can feed in peace."
"You expect me to move a grown man?" Ruthie challenged as she motioned to her petite figure.
"Come, Ruthie, you'll see," Amy led Ruthie from their observation point to the shed. Amy leaned against the front of the shed where she would be able to distract any passersby while Ruthie easily dragged the snoring drunk behind the building.
Moonlight reflected off the water and created long shadows along the pier as Amy listened to the boats creak and rock against the pilings while she waited for Ruthie to move the sleeping sailor. Anticipation and hunger made Amy impatient as she slipped behind the shed and was enveloped by the delicious scent of freshly exposed blood mingling with the salty air. Ruthie was on her knees feeding on the throat of the unfortunate man and looked up at Amy's pale, wanton face and returned to her feast. Amy, pleased and surprised at how quickly Ruthie learned to satisfy her hunger, laughed, knelt down and began to feed on the other side of the nearly depleted throat. After draining him of all the blood they could extract, they silently dropped his lifeless body into the water and slipped away into the shadows.
When they had reached a secluded alley away from the waterfront, they stopped for a rest, "How do you feel now, Ruthie?" Amy laughed in triumphant expectation.
Ruthie stood with her head bowed and muttered, "I feel like the tool of the Devil that I am."
"How can you say that?" Amy was surprised at Ruthie's response, "you performed wonderfully. Can't you feel the strength and power coursing through you? Now that you've tasted the blood of your prey, aren't you satisfied and content?"
Ruthie looked at Amy in disgust, "We killed that man in his sleep. The lord will never forgive us now. Murder is the worst sin and we committed it. You told me we didn't have to kill anyone. We could feed without killing."
"Admit to me that you've never felt so strong. Tell me that while you fed you didn't feel a thrill of power and domination that you've never felt before in your life and never even dreamed was possible."
After a few moments hesitation where Ruthie seemed to be struggling with her thoughts and twisting her worn nightgown between her fists she replied in tears, "Yes, I did feel all those things. It was overpowering the way I felt, but now that it's over I feel guilty about it and unclean."
"You have to stop feeling guilty because this is who you are now, so enjoy the power and superior strength that you have and forget about the rest. We still have a lot to do before daylight."
"We have to kill someone else?" Ruthie reluctantly followed as Amy headed toward the center of town, "I'm really not hungry anymore."
"No, Ruthie," Amy waited for Ruthie to catch up, "we're going to find you a pretty dress and a coffin of your own."
"Dresses!" Ruthie looked up at Amy in incredulity "What do I care what I'm wearing when I'm nothing but a sinner, a killer. How can you think of pretty dresses after we killed a man and pushed him into the river?"
"It's all right," Amy tried to console Ruthie, but Ruthie shrank from her touch, "you'll get used to it just like I did. Do you think I was happy about becoming an evil creature of the night? I was horrified, just as horrified as you are. And I had a family and a home that I could never go back to. I still miss my home and my family. I suppose I always will."
"I don't think I can ever get used to being a killer. I was a God fearing woman before I met you. Why did you do this to me? I can understand my master and mistress keeping me a slave to them even after slavery was abolished in Connecticut. They used me for free help, but why did you make me a killer? I'm a worse sinner now than I ever was before. God is gonna turn His back on me now, for sure. I'll burn in hell forever. There's no hope for my soul now. I don't deserve to live and I sure don't deserve no pretty dress. I never had a pretty dress in my life and now that I have someone, a white man's, blood on my hands, I don't deserve to wear anything at all," she looked down at her now filthy, tattered nightdress, "I don't even deserve to wear this rag anymore."
"That was in your old life that you never had a pretty dress," Amy grabbed Ruthie by the shoulders and looked into her eyes, "In your new life you wear pretty dresses. You wear whatever you like. No one is ever again going to tell you that you are undeserving of anything. I transformed you into a vampire to help you. I sympathized with your despair last night when I met you crying in your master's yard. You'll never be a slave to anyone ever again. You're free to do what you wish without fear." Amy let go of Ruthie and said, "Now I'm going to show you where you will find pretty dresses and we will find you a fancy coffin too."
The October evening grew still and quiet as the city settled down for the night. Ruthie's bare feet were neither sore nor cold as she followed Amy down the tree-lined lane crunching through fallen leaves and kicking small stones as she walked. She seemed to be full of new physical strength after her first feed that left her body feeling warm and comfortable even though she wore only a thin gown and no shoes. The fact that she needed to steal and murder to stay alive made her fear for her soul, but the fear of freezing or starving was gone. She didn't want to admit to herself that she felt the power and vitality that she had never experienced before because the demands of her new lifestyle were so contrary to her lifelong Christian beliefs.
Even though she struggled not to admit it to herself, everything Amy had told her was true. The perpetual fear of being abandoned or abused or murdered that had ruled her life of enforced servitude and dependence was gone and she experienced a slow dawning feeling of liberation that would have been impossible to know in her former life, even in the event of her complete emancipation. Maybe Amy was sincere in her declaration of wanting to help Ruthie and rescue her from her misery, but Amy had no idea what Ruthie must lose in the meantime.
"Miss Amy?" Ruthie called to Amy who was a few paces ahead. When she saw Amy's look of reproach she corrected herself, "Amy."
"That's better," Amy smiled, "you'll get used to it. Remember, you're not a servant anymore. We're more like sisters now, I suppose."
"Well, then," Ruthie asked tentatively, "if we're sisters like you say, can I ask you how you became the way you are?"
Amy's smile faded, she hadn't expected Ruthie to ask such a personal question. Standing under the shadow of an old oak, the cool night breeze rustling the few clumps of dead leaves still clinging to the cold indifferent branches preparing for the approach of winter, Amy felt the sharp stab of pain and the wave of terror that she experienced whenever she thought of her loss of Robert and the manner in which he abruptly disappeared.
Ruthie saw Amy's expression in the moonlight, her sadness, her pain as a strand of loose hair blew across her cheek, "I'm sorry Mi--Amy," Ruthie rushed to apologize, "I didn't mean to make you upset. I was just asking. I'm sorry."
"That's all right, Ruthie," Amy consoled, "I suppose you should know. I'm still very sad about losing Robert. He's the one who made me the way I am."
"Robert?"
"Yes," Amy found a large flat boulder between a stand of trees, secluded and hidden from the road, to sit on and motioned Ruthie to join her, "I've never spoken of him before because I've never had anyone to speak to until now. My father owned whaling ships that did quite well. He was planning to invest in another whaler before I was forced to leave. Needless to say, my father was quite wealthy and respected and I was considered to be popular with the young gentlemen in town. I had many suitors who sought my attention and being near twenty years old, my mother and father were pressuring me to marry. A few of the young men who showed interest in me seemed to be good prospects. They were handsome and were heirs to sizable fortunes that would have allowed me a comfortable and respectable life."
"What happened?" Ruthie urged.
"One evening I was at a spring ball dancing with all who requested the honor and attempting to deci
de who would become my husband when I saw a strangely beautiful man standing apart from the crowd. He was tall and well dressed and had dark wavy hair. He was the most handsome man I've ever seen. He was watching me. When my dance partner returned me to my seat by my mother, he approached and introduced himself to us in such a smooth and lovely voice. The sound of which caused a very calming yet exciting feeling throughout my entire being. His name was Robert. My mother questioned him relentlessly, which I found quite embarrassing and feared her protective diligence would deter his interest in me, but he didn't seem to mind and politely answered all of her questions. He said he was in town on business and the man he had come to see had invited him along to the ball. Finally, my mother allowed him to be my dance partner. Ruthie, I had never felt that way about any man as I felt for Robert. He led me to the dance floor and his touch was like the thrill of heat lightening coursing through my veins and when his dark eyes looked into mine it was like the stars shining in the deep black sky of a hot summer night. I could barely keep from gasping in pleasure and surprise. When our eyes met as we faced each other on the dance floor it seemed as though in that instant our very souls became one and we were joined for life. His attire and his manner proved to me that he came from a respectable family and his dancing was flawless, masterful yet smooth. I trembled and thought I might faint with excitement as he led me around the floor, I was so taken by him as he held me so tight."
"That just sounds scary. What did your mother say?" Ruthie was surprised that Amy was speaking so intimately to such a new acquaintance. She didn't realize that Amy had never been able to confide in anyone about Robert since her family was against the relationship from the beginning.
"She didn't like him because he wasn't anyone she was acquainted with. She wanted me to marry one of the gentlemen from town where she could keep me near her after marriage. My interest in Robert didn't comply with her plans for me."
"What about your father," Ruthie asked, "Did he know Robert?"
"No," Tears streaming down her face, Amy looked up into the rustling branches of the oaks, "my father had never heard of him and none of his business acquaintances had heard of him either. Even the man that Robert had used as a reference in town didn't know him."
"Then why did you still see him?"
"It was as though I had been unaware that I sleeping my whole life until we met. I was awakened to being fully alive when I saw his face heard his voice, felt his touch. I was in love from the first moment he held me in his arms and looked into my eyes," Amy's voice caught and she fought back more tears, "I knew he was the only man for me, that I would die without him. I hardly cared where he was from or where he was going as long as he took me along with him. I would have followed him anywhere."
"Did your father let you see him? How did you end up the way you are now?"
"Robert left his card every day for a week, but my father forbid me to see him. I was so distraught that I stopped eating and stopped sleeping. Finally, my mother became so anxious for my health that she convinced my father to allow me to see Robert," Amy steadied her voice and wiped her eyes, "He came every evening the following week; however, we weren't allowed to be left alone for a moment. He told me about how his family had come to Virginia from England generations ago, but most of them had gone back to England after the revolution. He grew up on the family tobacco plantation and after tiring of the isolation he endured living on the plantation came north to invest in the mills."
"That's why nobody here knew him."
"That's what he told us but I later found none of it proved to be true."
"You can't trust any white man," Ruthie muttered, "especially a southern white man."
"My parents didn't believe his story because they didn't want me to marry him, but I believed him because I wanted so desperately for his story to be true. At the end of that week my father brought home a guest. It was one of my potential fiances. He announced that a marriage contract had been agreed upon between him and the young man and I was to marry him the following month."
"What did you do?" Ruthie was astonished. She hadn't realized that white girls were traded like black girls, even though Amy would still be rich and be the mistress of her own house.
"I was destroyed, of course. I couldn't believe my father would arrange my life that way without my consent or even my opinion. He wanted me to marry the young man because his father also owned ships and did business with England as well as whaling. It was purely a business deal for my father with no regard for my feelings. I ran sobbing to my room and locked the door. I was inconsolable and would speak to no one."
"I can understand that."
"As I lay on my bed crying I realized my father had been hoping all along that I would choose the young man of his liking on my own. Robert's entrance into my life complicated my father's plans. You see, my brother, who was away at school at the time, would eventually inherit my father's business and, hopefully for my father, merge his business with the business my intended husband would inherit," Amy's eyes grew dark in anger," I was simply a bargaining tool. I wasn't even human to him."
"So what happened?"
"Later that night as I stood at my window crying and longing for Robert and fearing I would never see my love again, the draperies stirred and there was Robert standing on the balcony outside of my room. I didn't even wonder how he had gotten there so quickly without my seeing because I was so thrilled to see him. He was dressed as elegantly as always and I almost couldn't believe my eyes."
"You didn't know he was evil?"
Amy seemed confused at Ruthie's question, "Evil, Robert wasn't evil. He was the same as you and me. He asked me why I was crying and when I explained my situation to him, he then understood why my father told him he was no longer welcome in our house. He folded me into his arms and told me he would take me away where we could be together forever. I passionately agreed and quickly dressed. I rejoined Robert on the balcony without even a short note to my parents. When I asked him how we would get to the ground, he kissed me and looked deeply into my eyes and gently pushing my hair away from my neck, bit me the same as I bit you. I was horrified, but at the same time a feeling of rapturous surrender came over me and I drank greedily of his own blood when he offered it. I don't remember anything after that until I woke up with him in his coffin the following evening."
"Weren't you mad he made you the devil's tool?"
"At first I felt betrayed and frightened and confused, but I still loved Robert and he loved me." Amy struggled to continue speaking as she remembered her first passionate nights alone with Robert knowing that he was now gone and she might never feel his touch again, never feel his skin against hers, never feel his beautiful hands in her hair. She pushed away her painful longing and focused her attention on answering Ruthie's question. "After a while I began to appreciate the power and strength I now have and was grateful for my new life with Robert. I was also grateful for not having to marry a man of my father's choosing whom I had no feelings for except, perhaps, resentment."
"What happened to Robert? Why isn't he here now?"
"I don't know," Amy's voice began to break again, "I fear that he left me. He must have tired of me. I thought we were happy together. We spent more than five years living together, hunting together. I thought we would be together forever. He always told me so. Perhaps some unknown enemy stole him away. One evening I woke up and he was gone. His coffin was gone as well. It was as though he just disappeared. Almost as though he had never existed. I hoped and prayed for his return and lay crying alone in our lair. After a few days passed, I began to fear that he was gone, never to return. I decided to leave the lair alone and hunt for blood on my own to maintain my strength while I hope and wait for his return. Then last night, my first night out alone, I heard your sobs and felt a strange kinship to you."
"So, Robert rescued you and now you're rescuing me? Is that how you see it?"
"I guess my actions were a bit selfish on my part," Amy looke
d sadly at Ruthie, "I was so utterly sad and alone. Your cries last night seemed to echo my feelings and I thought we could be friends."
"Am I supposed to forgive you for attacking me and feel sorry for you?" Ruthie asked, "If I had been crying in the kitchen instead of in the yard, I would still be alive and well?"
"You would still be alive, Ruthie, but you wouldn't be well. You certainly weren't well when I met you."
Ruthie's glance dropped when she thought of why she was hiding in the yard crying. It was true that she would still be her master's victim if she were alive, but now she felt herself to be Amy's victim, "Making me into a sinner and heathen is better than being hurt by my master?" she asked in confusion.
"You'll never be a victim again unless someone finds where we live."
"But now I have to make innocent people into victims so I can stay alive," Ruthie argued, "that's evil."
"Come on, Ruthie," Amy rose from the rock, "we'll get you a pretty dress and you'll feel much better. You'll see, you only need to adjust to your new life." Amy was losing patience with Ruthie's dogged clinging to the subject of being a heathen. Amy thought any sort of life would be preferable to a life of servitude, but apparently Ruthie's religious beliefs were impeding her realization of the superiority of her new situation. Amy's spirits were always lifted with the promise of a new dress and hoped Ruthie would have the same reaction.
As they walked toward Main Street Amy explained further, "We no longer belong to the society we once knew, the society that lives in these streets by day trying to live up to the same moral expectations, believing in the same definitions of good and evil. We live in our own society now. Our needs are different from theirs, which gives us a new set of rules and new definitions of good and evil. Unfortunately, we are now evil to them and must fear being discovery and destroyed."
Ruthie, still overwhelmed and confused with the whole situation remained silent as she followed Amy through the shadows of the sleeping city. She tried to comprehend Amy's explanation, but she had never imagined different societies and different definitions of good and evil. Surviving from one day to the next was Ruthie's main goal in life and the smartest way to do that was to conform to her master's and mistress' definition of right and wrong as it pertained to her survival and treatment.
Once on Main Street Amy led Ruthie to a tailor's shop and stopped at the front door, "It's closed and nobody's here," Ruthie observed, "we can't get in."
"Yes we can," Amy replied confidently, "Look through the door and imagine being on the other side."
"Why? What are you talking about?" Ruthie queried.
"Watch, I'll show you," Amy stared into the darkened shop through the glass in the door. After a few seconds she began to disappear before Ruthie's eyes and in her place a foggy cloud appeared and seeped under the door. Ruthie found herself looking in amazement and disbelief at Amy who was now on the other side of the door. Amy smiled at Ruthie's shocked expression, repeated the action and was back outside next to Ruthie again.
"Now you try it," Amy encouraged her new friend who stood staring open mouthed at Amy, "you can do it. Think about being inside the shop. Go ahead."
"Well," Ruthie said with uncertainty, "I'll try."
Ruthie planted her feet firmly in front of the door and stared hard into the shop. To her surprise she found herself inside the store. When she turned back to look out at Amy, Amy had vanished. Within a few seconds she was beside her again.
"Well," Amy asked expectantly, "isn't that an excellent mode of transportation?"
"I can't believe it," Ruthie replied, "I would never guess anybody could do something like that."
"And did doing so make you feel evil?"
"No," Ruthie realized, "No, it didn't. I didn't hurt anybody by doing that. In fact, I could even help people by doing that if I wanted to."
"See," Amy clapped her hands in delight, "that is what I meant by being in our own society with different ideas of good and evil. If anyone had seen us enter the shop or anywhere else that way, they would consider us evil at once because it's something they can't do themselves and don't understand."
"I can turn myself into a vapor whenever I want. I'm stronger than any man on earth and I'll never be treated like anyone's property again," Ruthie listed her new traits and considered her new identity, "But feeding off people to survive is evil."
"Once you're wearing a beautiful new dress and have your own coffin you'll feel even better about yourself, Ruthie, you'll see," Amy began looking around the shop for some dresses that looked to be Ruthie's size.
"Oh," exclaimed Amy as she searched through some dresses hanging near the front of the shop, "these are finished and waiting to be delivered. Here's a lovely blue dress that looks to be your size. I'll help you dress."
"This is getting stranger." Ruthie remarked as she let Amy dress her, "not only am I going to be wearing a dress that must belong to a white girl, but a white girl is putting it on me."
"Everything's different now," Amy buttoned the last button and circled around Ruthie straightening here and smoothing there, "Ruthie you look beautiful."
Amy stood back to admire the change in Ruthie, "It's amazing how a change in clothing can change a person's entire image. I wish we could see your reflection so you could see yourself as I do."
Ruthie looked down at herself and turned slowly to feel the fresh clean fabric flow around her as she turned, "Even if I could look at myself in the glass, I wouldn't believe my eyes. I've never worn anything like this before in my life."
"How does it make you feel?" Amy smiled.
"I'd feel a whole lot better if it wasn't stolen, but other than that, I feel fine," Ruthie stood in front of the glass straining to see her reflection and failing, tried to twist her head in different angles to see herself from all sides, "What a sight we're going to be now. A Negro girl walking side by side with a blonde haired white girl and dressed just as fine. You don't see that a lot around here. We just better stay in the shadows like we been doing."
Amy laughed, "I believe you're right, Ruthie."