The Devil's Only Friend Read Online Free PDF Page B

feel her tiny slippered feet scuffing at my heels. I had known the woman only a few seconds, and already I disliked her; I could see why she might get on well with my mother.
    â€œHey, Ma,” I said, stepping through to the kitchen.
    â€œOh, Peter, how nice to see you.” Her eyes glanced at me for a moment and then drifted off.
    For the benefit of the woman, I bent down to kiss my mother on the cheek. From the dishes stacked in the sink and from the crumbs left in my mother’s whiskers, I judged that they had just finished lunch.
    â€œMy dear friend Paulette,” she said.
    I let go a nod to the woman.
    â€œShe stops in to sit with me. She lives with her son right across the back fence.”
    â€œThat’s good,” I said.
    â€œAnd his wife. Two beautiful grandchildren. The new baby.” She held up a photo of a homely baby with her shaking hand.
    Paulette was still standing behind me with her arms folded. Her spine was twisted somehow, though she seemed healthy enough. I let myself down in to the chair opposite my mother across the little dinette table. There were only two chairs in the kitchen.
    â€œI only came to see if there was anything that needed doing here.”
    â€œYou could drive me to the market.”
    â€œYou know I got rid of my car,” I said.
    â€œNever mind then.”
    â€œMy son has a car.”
    My mother said, “They have a little nigger boy who delivers from the market. I get what I need that way. It costs a little more .”
    â€œIf they can get jobs,” said Paulette, “they’ll want to move in. You see?”
    â€œThe house is all right?” I asked.
    â€œHe lives in the Sojourner Truth. How does he get here? He takes the bus.”
    â€œI told you,” said Paulette.
    â€œI can go to the market for you, Ma. It’s only down the block.”
    â€œIt’s all right. I have a little rolling basket.”
    â€œShe has a rolling basket.”
    That seemed to settle the matter. My mother took in a trembling breath and let out a heavy sigh. She arranged a few photographs of her neighbor’s grandchildren on the table. I thought she would remain lost in her mind for a time, and I was about to get up to check through the house.
    â€œI had a visit from my daughter-in-law yesterday,” she said.
    â€œEileen was here?” I said.
    â€œShe comes to see me. She takes the bus.”
    â€œShe looks okay?”
    â€œTommy’s girl.”
    â€œIt’s good she should visit,” said Paulette. She seemed to enjoy standing above us as a sort of referee.
    â€œIf you had a car,” said my mother, “you could bring her over.”
    â€œWell, I don’t have a car.”
    â€œAlex couldn’t come with her. He was busy with the school, with his schoolwork.”
    I could feel Paulette’s eyes sharpen on me. It was clear that she knew something about it. Maybe she had been there for Eileen’s visit.
    â€œAlex isn’t in school,” I said. “He’s run off. You remember?”
    â€œTommy’s boy, I remember.”
    â€œShe remembers. Of course she remembers,” said Paulette. She put a hand to my mother’s hunched shoulder.
    My mother was still fumbling with the photographs. As it had been for some years, I couldn’t make out what she was thinking, if somewhere behind her craggy face she was torn up by it all. Her eyes were lost in sagging, wrinkled flesh, and when they appeared at all, they were as beady and as unlit as a mouse’s eyes.
    â€œEileen says that the boy…”
    â€œWhat?” I said.
    â€œShe has a beau. Tommy’s gone two years,” she said.
    â€œShe should have a beau,” Paulette said. “Pretty as she—”
    â€œNobody asked you about it,” I said. “Shut your piehole.”
    Paulette’s shapeless mouth hung open for a moment. Then she clapped it shut so that her lips made a thin, drooping