Seasons of Her Life Read Online Free Page B

“Don’t you cry, don’t you dare! That’s what they want, especially him. Don’t ever let them see you cry. Soon as we leave, go over to Bubba’s. You can roll out the dough for the pies. She’s waiting for you. I’m leaving that damn Bible on the train. Think about that tonight when you fall asleep. Go on now, get up on the porch and I’ll wave to you.”
    Ruby rolled the window down, fixing her gaze on her mother. Irma looked away. Ruby waved at Opal, who was struggling not to cry.
    Almost free. Almost.
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    Three hours into the trip, shortly before the train groaned to a stop in Harrisburg, Ruby finally felt confident enough to get up and go to the bathroom, knowing all eyes would be on her lurching walk to the end of the car. It wasn’t so bad walking down the car because she was looking at the back of people’s heads. Coming back they’d be staring at her. She knew she was dressed all wrong. Her hair was wrong, too. Even the saddle shoes were wrong. So was the sandwich and apple her mother had packed for her. She’d be damned if she’d eat the egg salad sandwich. That would be left behind with the Bible.
    It took Ruby a full five minutes before she figured out how to flush the toilet, and when she did, she smiled from ear to ear. She had a lot to learn, so much was new to her: the train ride, the strange countryside, the washrooms, the colored people. How could she be so ignorant about these things and yet so smart in school? She was smart, too; she could take dictation faster than anyone else, faster than her teacher, Miss Pipas, and her typing was almost sixty words a minute with no mistakes. Miss Pipas said she was the best, the most accurate student she’d ever had.
    Head high, aware of the stares she was receiving, Ruby marched back to her seat and sat down. Miss Pipas had tried, in her own way, to prepare Ruby for what she’d called the outside, but she hadn’t paid that much attention. Now she wished she had listened more carefully.
    Ruby looked at the backs of the passengers’ heads, all curly hair set with Wave-Set. Even the men had some kind of stuff on their hair. There were young people her age on the train near the front of the car. They were having a grand old time, laughing and teasing one another. Ruby ached to join them, to be part of them for a little while. She settled deeper into her seat and watched the countryside through the window. The wheels clicked on the tracks seeming to say Amber, Amber, Amber.
    Regardless of what she’d said to her grandmother, Ruby knew things would not go well with Amber. Amber didn’t want her; Ruby had read the letter and heard her parents talking. The gist of that conversation was George telling Irma that if she, Ruby, didn’t obey Amber, she would be sent home to work in the factory. “She’ll listen or else,” George growled. “You tell your daughter in your next letter that if she can’t keep a tight rein on Ruby, I’ll go down there and fetch them both back here.” And he would do just that.
    Not me! Ruby screamed silently. You’ll never get me back here! What it all meant, Ruby decided, was she had to toe the line and do exactly what Amber said.
    But God, how she hated Amber. All the reasons for her hatred rivered through her, leaving her weak and trembling. She thought about how, when she was five and her sister was eight, Amber had pushed her under the water in the field pond. The memory made her gasp; just as she had then. If it hadn’t been for one of the older boys, who’d fished her out, she would have drowned. Amber didn’t want to be saddled that day with a younger sister. She hadn’t wanted to be saddled with her the day she left her with her foot caught in the railroad tracks to go on with her friends to play stickball. She’d been lucky that day, too, when an old miner worked diligently to free her foot, though