The Promise of Jenny Jones Read Online Free PDF Page B

dug through the sewing materials and removed a small pair of scissors. "Do you know how to use these?"
    "Of course I know how to use scissors."
    "Well, how do I know what a six-year-old can or cannot do?" Jenny snapped. She pushed the scissors at Graciela,then shook out tangled skeins of matted red hair. "Cut it off."
    Graciela twitched and stared.
    "Lice," Jenny explained with a shrug, enjoying the horror in the kid's expression. "Keep in mind that I have to appear in public, and you'll be there with me. So cut it short, but not too close to the scalp. Leave me enough that I won't look peculiar wearing a bonnet."
    "Lice! Ack! I don't want to touch them!"
    "Either we get rid of them now, or in a day or two, you'll have lice, too."
    Graciela's hand flew to the brown curls peeping beneath the edge of her little feathered hat. "No!"
    Jenny pointed to her head, wondering at the wisdom of allowing someone who hated her, even a kid, near her head with a pair of sharp scissors.
    Graciela approached with huge reluctance, as if Jenny had admitted to leprosy. She made herself lift a dirty strand between her thumb and forefinger. "Ugh!"
    "Just cut it, damn it." There was a mirror among the toiletries, but it was so tiny that it only revealed an inch at a look. Otherwise, Jenny would have done the job herself. A minute later, ropy strings of red started falling around her. Jenny tried not to look at them. The one thing she was vain about was her hair. She had pretty hair, if she did say so herself. Or she might have if she had done anything with it. She stared straight ahead with a stony expression as Graciela chopped and whacked, moving around Jenny, sidestepping the mats of falling hair.
    "It's done," Graciela announced, handing Jenny the scissors. She gazed at Jenny's head with a smirk.
    Tight-lipped, Jenny found the scrap of mirror and held it up. Graciela had whacked her hair to earlobe length in most places, closer to the scalp in other places. Here and there a stiff tuft stuck out like the bristles on a broom. Most women would have wept. Jenny sighed and stared into space for a long minute. It had to be done.
    Standing, she pulled off her shirtwaist and skirt and tossed them toward the tree. She hadn't taken time for stockings, so the boots stuck to her feet and she had to fight them off.
    Graciela spread a cloth in the shade, seated herself with enormous dignity,then unwrapped a tortilla stuffed with cold meat. First, of course, she opened a napkin across her lap. She watched Jenny undressing.
    "You should have said thank you."
    Jenny glared at her and said nothing. She'd be damned if she'd thank a smirking kid for deliberately chopping holes in her hair. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that Graciela had enjoyed hacking Jenny's hair into a ragged mess.
    Between delicate bites of tortilla, Graciela watched Jenny step into the trickle of water and begin soaping her body. "I've never seen a grown-up without clothes before," she said, staring.
    "Well, this is what one looks like," Jenny snapped. She couldn't remember being this uncomfortable in years. If anyone had seen her naked since she was a kid herself, she hadn't known about it. She tried to pretend that she didn't mind Graciela's staring at her, but she suspected her face was as red as her hacked-off hair.
    "Do all grown-up women have hair between their legs, or is it only you?"
    Oh God. Jenny's face caught fire. She turned her buttocks toward the kid, but hated that almost as much. "All grown-up women have hair there," she said in a choking voice.
    "Why?"
    "How would I know? It happens when you're about ten years old, or maybe it's twelve, I can't remember. Didn't your mother tell you about … ah…any of that?"
    "My mother doesn't have a bunch of disgusting hair between her legs," the kid stated in tones of ringing superiority. She looked down her nose at Jenny.
    "Yes, she does." Did, Jenny silently amended. "All grown-up women get hair between their legs and under their