So the next morning she went down cellar in her nightgown and bare feet, and stood there in the darkest dark with her back to the furnace for the warmth. If she stoked it too early, Mrs. would be after her for the coal she wasted, and if she waited too long, the old man might come to do it. If he did come she decided she’d shake the shovel at him a little and he’d probably run off the best he could, scrawny as he was. Mrs. had to pay him something, but Lila would be working off a debt, so Mrs. would see it was best to let her have her way. Then she’d scrub down the kitchen, which needed it something terrible. It was high time somebody beat those rugs.
Just standing there in the dark felt so good to her. She’d get all black and filthy with the coal dust, and when she came upstairs who knew what they would say, and that was all right, because she had this time to be quiet with herself. How long had it been. She was standing there, leaning against the warmth with her eyes closed, and she began to have bright dreams about waking up before dawn with Doll’s arm for a pillow and the sound of a fire and Doane talking with whoever else was awake first. It was always Doane who got the fire going, and then Arthur would start the coffee when they had it. And Doll coaxed her awake. They would fry whatever there was, the light coming up and the birds singing. Dew on everything, beaded on cobwebs so it fell like a little rain when you broke one. Then Doll looked at her and said, “You’re standing in a coal hole.” No, Lila must have said that. She’d started talking to herself and they teased her about it. She knew nothing about anything but fieldwork and making change. And housekeeping, from the time in Tammany. When she lived in that town where they didn’t hang Doll and she worked in the store, sometimes she would walk out at night, because then you can see into people’s houses. The accounts always came out just right when she was working there, never a penny short. She was saving up a little money. There was nothing wrong with working indoors when a place was as clean as that and smelled so good. Ham and coffee and cheese and apples and flour. Spools of ribbon and bolts of pretty cloth. She’d watch how the women were dressed and what they did with their hair, listen to the way they talked. She’d really wanted to know those things. Well, she’d been learning some things lately, that’s for sure.
“You’re standing there in the dark in a filthy old cellar.”
I like it down here. That was her talking to herself again. I ain’t cut out for this life.
Doll said, “I tried to tell you about it. Didn’t I tell you?”
No, you didn’t. Just to stay away from whorehouses. Just that you got that scar. Anyway, I had a decent job, and then you come bleeding all over everything, fouling the place.
She nodded. “I shoulda give that more thought. But where’s my knife? Why you let that woman have my knife?”
It’s the only thing I had to give her.
That don’t make sense. Lila was the one who said that. But Doll would have said it. If Lila had had the knife and a gold watch and chain, she’d have handed them all to that woman, seen them lying there in her hand and wished there was something else to give her. It was a bitter sorrow to her that Mrs. hardly even bothered with her anymore. Never smeared rouge on her face or told her she might try smiling. The gentlemen come here for a good time. You look at them like you hate them.
She hated them, for a fact. They were the worst part of the whole damn situation. It was them that made her think sometimes she’d like to have that knife back. No, because she couldn’t go anywhere so long as it was locked away. Safekeeping. There was a picture in there of Peg’s sister, and Mrs. only let her look at it once in a while. She’d say, Peg, I was going to let you look at that photo, but the way you been acting lately— Then there would be Please, and I’m sorry, and I won’t do it again if you just tell me what it was I done, and Mrs. would say, Like you don’t know! Next time I’ll just toss it in the fire. Begging only worked sometimes, not quite never, but they did it anyway, till she slapped them for it.
Lila said, “I never knew there was such a place.”
And Doll said, “Didn’t I warn you.” No, you didn’t. But I guess you must have told me something. How else did I know to come here to just purely hate my life, hate everything about it, my damn body, my damn face, the damn misery in my heart because I got nothing to care about. How did that Mack get in there to devil me the way he does, when I never meant him one bit of harm? She thought, If I could hate him, too, that would make things easier. Nothing was supposed to be easier, she knew that. Once, when Mrs. was gone, somebody left a door unlocked and a preacher got in. He said a word or two about hell before they pushed him back out. She’d heard about it before anyway, at a camp meeting. Maybe that’s how she knew to come here, thinking it might be where she belonged. But it was taking so long. Worse every day, because it was the same every day. It wasn’t the end of anything. And she was beginning to think now and then about sunshine, and the smell of the air. Trees. She thought, I’m just doing that to devil myself.
Well, she better start shoveling the coal. She was only used to a wood fire. So she’d have to be careful not to put too much in too fast. Stir the coals and then build up the fire so she could see what she was doing. She knew a boiler could burst if something happened, it got too hot or heated up too fast. Then the coals would fly everywhere and the whole damn house would burn down, probably. She could fill it up, leaving just enough room for her to crawl in after and close the door. Boom! She’d go flying, a flaming piece of her right into that girl’s face, that Peg, and another one into Rita’s lap, where she was always picking at her fingernails until they were bloody, and another one into the room where they kept the dress-up clothes when the gentlemen weren’t around. And Mack would see her, all fire like that, and he’d probably be laughing, thinking he’d done it. He’d touch her cheek and the fire would come away on his hand and he’d probably just lick it off. He’d say, Now, that’s the kind of girl a man would marry! Telling that damn lie again just to see if she could burn any hotter than fire.
Doll said, “You’re standing here in a cellar, barefoot in the dark, talking to yourself. This ain’t how I brought you up.”
Lila said, I got that plan about working around the place.
“You know how I got this scar? A girl just as crazy as you’re getting to be heated up an iron skillet as hot as she could make it, and then when I come in the kitchen she hit me with it. Broke the bone in my cheek and who knows what all. I was as good as dead for a long time, and when I woke up, I had this face for the rest of my life.”
Lila thought, How do I know that? Did she tell me sometime?