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You behave yourself, or I’ll lock you in the closet. You mind me now! You need to be more like your mama, Sela. You must learn how to have fun and how to laugh. Someday you might be pretty like me, but I think you’re going to look like that no-account daddy of yours.”
    “Am I ugly, Mom?”
    “You aren’t ugly, honey; you just aren’t pretty. When you grow up and put on lipstick and rouge, you will be. Do you want to look like me when you grow up?”
    Sela stuck her thumb in her mouth and she shook her head. Tears dripped down her cheeks.
    “Ungrateful little snot. Go on now and mind your manners. Mr. Parker leaves me good tips, so don’t make things bad for me. You hear me, Sela? Stand up straight, girl, stop slouching. And pull up your goddamned socks.”
    Sela took her thumb out of her mouth long enough to say, “They won’t stay up because they’re dirty. Three days dirty just like my underwear.” Whatever her mother responded was lost in the sound of the car’s engine. Sela’s thumb went back into her mouth as she trudged down the mossy road to the house. Through her tears she could see a giant of a woman advancing on her. She froze, ready to flee, when she saw two girls and a boy run ahead of the giant. Suddenly she was in the giant’s arms, and she was being kissed. She wasn’t afraid anymore when the woman holding her carried her into the kitchen that smelled like Christmas day. Later, she was being led down the hall to the bathroom, the other little girl alongside her.
    “This is how we do things here,” the giant said comfortably. “First you take a bath and have your hair washed. That’s so you won’t smell like cigarette smoke and . . . other things. Then Pearl is going to dress you up in clean clothes and wash your other clothes. Then you’re going to have lunch and play all afternoon. You can stay to supper if your mamas say it’s all right. Now, let’s scrub-a-dub-dub.”
    Sela hung her head as she slipped down into the soapy water that was so warm and sweet-smelling she never wanted to get out. The other little girl, Brie was her name, was hanging her head, too. She knew she was ashamed as she was.
    “Lordy, Lordy, you children smell prettier than the gardenias by the verandah. Hmmmm! ” Pearl sang out as she nuzzled each little girl behind the ears. “My own special flowers. Now, we’ll just fluff up those curls and then you can sit down and eat Pearl’s special chicken pie. And if you’re real good, there will be a chocolate ice-cream cone for dessert.”
    Her heart in her eyes, Sela held out her plate the moment she finished. Even at the age of four and a half she knew she wasn’t holding it out for the ice-cream cone; she was holding it out so Pearl would smile, kiss her, and say something nice. One of Pearl’s warm smiles was better than a cold ice-cream cone. Lots better. She did her best to remember the last time her mother had hugged her and kissed her. When she couldn’t remember, she looked up at the motherly woman, and asked, “Is it all right to love you?”
    “Chile, this old woman would be pleased to have you love her. I love all of you,” she said, pointing one fat finger at each of the children. “In this house we’re a family. Don’t you be forgetting that.”
     
     
    Sela tossed her cigarette in the general direction of the road, and turned to Brie. “My mom was drunk, that first day when she brought me out here to the Parker place. Jesus, I was scared out of my dirty panties. Pearl washed them—do you remember how she used to do that every day? My socks were curled down around the heels of my shoes. Brie, how could my mother not notice that I was cleaner when she picked me up than when she dropped me off? I guess she was drunk all the time,” she said, answering herself.
    “I think Pearl was the only one who ever washed my hair. I loved the way I smelled after she got done with us. I killed a kid, Sela.”
    Sela blinked. She fumbled in her pocket