“Yas’m, it sho has been a mighty cold winter. Sometimes I git to wishin summer hurry back. But then I think how it was las summer. Terrible.”
“I know what you mean Elizabeth. I thought I’d die in August.”
Aunt Lil sat in a chair, folding clothes while Elizabeth leaned over the ironing board set up in the living room. I watched from the entrance to my room as the smell of warm, clean clothes wafted through the house.
“Well, well, looka here. How are you, Masta Danny?”
“Say hello to Elizabeth, Danny.”
“Hello, Miss Elizabeth.”
“My, my. Masta Danny. You sho is a fine looking young man. I’d be mighty proud if I had me a son like you.”
I stood there, staring at the floor. Why, I wondered, did all the colored people, grownups anyway, think I’m so special, so handsome. After studying myself in a wall mirror, I concluded I looked kinda goofy.
Although I couldn’t put my finger on it, it seemed that everyone had the same lines and their glowing praise was an automatic response. But why?
I liked Elizabeth, though. She seemed a lot like Aunt Lil. They both talked about their families and the problems with young folks today.
Elizabeth never had a disagreement with Aunt Lil. Her response to anything was always, “Yas’m. You sho is right Miz Lil.”
But then all the colored folks who talked with Aunt Lil seemed to be thinking the same thoughts as her. Even when she did a complete reversal of a previous statement, Elizabeth was right with her, never missing a beat.
“No ma’m. I feels the same way you does,” she would say as she continued to iron everything in sight; shirts, pants, towels, washcloths, pillow cases, sheets, underwear. It was an automatic reflex now.
Four hours later the living room was stacked high with neatly pressed and folded things. Elizabeth listed from side to side as she made her way to the door, eighty-five cents richer.
“Miz Lil. You lets me know if you needs more ironing next week. Jus tell my boy when you see him. You take care now.”
I watched Elizabeth as she labored down the alley, stopping every few feet to breathe in the heavy air. I felt a lump in my throat and my heart ached.
Filed under: Deep South Volume 1
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