Chapters
by Maggie Allen
����������� �Mama?�
����������� �What, Chloe?�
����������� Chloe raised up on one elbow in bed, her waist-length hair spraying out behind her from the static of her flannel nightgown.� �Tell me a story about when you were a little girl,� she said.
����������� Her mother sighed from where she stood in the doorway, her arms full of dirty clothes she had just scooped from her daughter�s floor.� �Not tonight, Chloe.� It�s late.�
����������� �Please, mama,� the child begged, �just the one about the goat.�
����������� �The goat?�� Mama shifted her load of clothes from one arm to the other and kicked a Barbie doll out of the doorway.� �There�s not much to tell, Chloe.� One of the goats chased me through the backyard, that�s all.� Now go to sleep.�
����������� �Did it chase you past the outhouse?� Chloe asked.
����������� Mama glanced up and saw an angel�s eager face glowing softly in the pale light of a Care Bears lamp shade.� �I guess just one quick story,� she said.� �After I put this laundry in the hamper.�� She returned to the room and sat on the edge of Chloe�s bed.� �When I was a little girl,� she began.
����������� �How old were you?� Chloe interrupted.
����������� �About your age,� Mama answered, �about five.� We lived way out in the country.�
����������� �Like when we go camping?� Chloe asked.
����������� �Yup.� Just like that.� It was so far in the country that sometimes a man would come with a big van full of groceries and my mom - your grandma - would pick what we needed.�
����������� �Why didn�t you go to the store?� Chloe asked.
����������� �We did once in a while, but not very often because we didn�t have a car,� Mama said.
����������� �How did you get to gymnastics?�
����������� �I never went to gymnastics; I just played out in the yard,� Mama answered.
����������� �Oh.� How did Grandma get to work?� Chloe asked.
����������� �She didn�t go to work, Chloe.� She had too much to do at home.�
����������� �I wish you didn�t go to work too, Mama.�
����������� �Then we wouldn�t have any money,� Mama said.� �And you wouldn�t have your own Care Bears room.� Now do you want to hear about the goats or not?� You�re not staying up all night.�
����������� �Yeah,� Chloe answered.
����������� �Well,� Mama began, �we had a bunch of goats.� Let�s see . . . we had Daisy and Maisy and Lazy and Butter.�
����������� �And Meadow?� Chloe shouted.
����������� �That�s right,� Mama answered.� �Most of the goats were nice and I even got to help milk them, but Maisy was a mean old goat.�
����������� �Why?� Chloe asked.
����������� �I don�t know, honey.� She was just cranky, I guess.� One day I was walking through the backyard, up on the hill near the woods and Maisy got nasty.� She put her head down and ran at me.�
����������� �What did you do?�
����������� �I ran as fast as I could down the hill,� Mama said, �but she was coming right behind me.� I thought she was going to knock me over so I started screaming for Mom.�
����������� �My grandma?�
����������� �Yes,
Grandma Marie in
����������� �Was Grandma scared?� Chloe asked.
����������� �No.� Grandma wasn�t scared of anything.� Only one time I saw her scared.�
����������� �When?�
����������� �I�ll tell you another night,� Mama said, rising from the bed.
����������� �Please, Mama!� Please tell me about Grandma being scared,� Chloe begged.
����������� �You�ve got school in the morning.�
����������� �I�m not tired.� Pleeeease, Mom.�
����������� �Well,� Mama said.� �I�m tired and I�ve got to get up early.�
����������� �Pleeease.�
����������� �OK.� But this is the last story.� I think it�s a story for older kids; you might have bad dreams.�
����������� �I�m big enough!� Chloe yelled.
����������� �Don�t shout, Chloe.� One time late at night, a man drove up the holler and started banging on the door.�
����������� �Who was it?� Chloe asked.
����������� �It was too dark to see, but Mom was sure it was my dad.� She didn�t tell me that then, though.�
����������� Chloe sat straight up in her bed.� �You�re dad?� she asked.� �Was he scary?�
����������� �I don�t know; I never met him.� He was a stranger to me and sometimes strangers act weird.� I didn�t hear anything because I was asleep, but Mom came up the stairs and woke up me and Kate.�
����������� �Aunt Kate?� Chloe asked.
����������� �Yeah,� Mama said.� �But she wasn�t your aunt back then - she wasn�t even a teenager yet.� Anyhow, Mom woke us up.� She had a flashlight and when I looked up at her face I knew she was scared.� She told us to throw some shoes on and run through the woods to Mrs. Milhoan�s house to call the police.� Then we heard the banging.�
����������� �Were you scared?�
����������� �Yes,� Mama said.
����������� �Was Kate scared too?� Chloe asked.
����������� �She didn�t say so, but I know she was.� I didn�t want to go through the woods in the dark, but I tried to be brave.� We got our shoes on and tiptoed downstairs.� Mom was standing in the dark at the front door, looking out the window.� She was holding her old yellow robe tight around her.� Kate and I peeked out and we saw a man walking around the yard, yelling.�
����������� �Did you go in the woods?� Chloe whispered.
����������� �No.� Mom told us to wait a minute and then finally the man walked back to his car and drove away.� That�s the only time I saw Mom being scared.� I was glad I didn�t have to walk through the woods, but I couldn�t get back to sleep for a long time.�
����������� �What if a stranger came here?� Chloe asked.
����������� �If
a stranger came here we would pick up the phone and call
����������� Chloe leaned forward and cocked her head.� �I think I hear some police now,� she said.
����������� Mama leaned in the direction of the noise.� �It does sound like a siren, doesn�t it?� That might be an ambulance.� We never heard sirens like that out in the country.�
����������� Chloe settled into her pillow and pulled the blankets up to her chin.� �Mama?�
����������� Mama smoothed the blanket over her daughter and patted her chest.� �What?�
����������� Chloe started giggling.� �Did you have a bathroom when you were little?�
����������� �You, stinker,� Mama said, giving her a tickle under the chin.� �What do you think?�
����������� �I wish we had an outhouse,� Chloe said, still giggling.
����������� �No, you don�t.� You wouldn�t want to go out in the dark to use it.� Or in the rain and snow.� Or,� she leaned down and tousled Chloe�s hair, �in the summer when there might be snakes.� Your Uncle Joe stepped on a snake once when he was little, even littler than you.�
����������� �Was it in the outhouse?� Chloe asked.
����������� �No.� It was in the yard and he didn�t see it because he was playing.�
����������� �Did it bite him?� Chloe asked.
����������� �Lucky for him, no.� But a snake bit your Aunt Kate once.� One fang went in her sandal and one in her foot.� And once we even had a snake in our kitchen.�
����������� �How did it get there?�
����������� �There must�ve been a hole somewhere,� Mama said.� �Snakes can wriggle into really small spaces . . . like this!�� She wiggled her finger and slinked across the covers toward Chloe.
����������� �Stop!� Chloe screamed.
����������� �All
right.� We�d better quit fooling
around.�� Mama glanced at the alarm
clock.� �Ohmigosh!� It�s
����������� Chloe yawned.� �Was that snake in Westvirginya?� she asked.
����������� �Yeah.� All that was in
����������� �Your friend?� Chloe asked.
����������� �Yeah.� The one we walked to church with, who always made lemon cookies.� I could smell those lemon cookies all the way from our house.�
����������� �I want to gobble some up,� Chloe said.
����������� �Me, too,� Mama said, �but Mrs. Milhoan is dead now.�
����������� �Why?�
����������� �She got old.�
����������� �Like Grandma?� Chloe asked.
����������� �Older than that,� Mama answered.� �Do you remember anything else about Mama being a little girl?�
����������� �You had wells,� Chloe said.
����������� �That�s
right.� We didn�t have running water in
����������� �Were they heavy?�
����������� �Mine were only half-full,� Mama said.� �But they were heavy to me.�
����������� �Grandma has water now,� Chloe said.
����������� �Yes, she does now,� Mama replied.� �But not when I was little.�
����������� �Why, Mama?�
����������� �We just didn�t have a lot of money for a nice house with bathtubs and stuff.�
����������� �Oh, cause Grandma didn�t work?� Chloe asked.
����������� �Yeah.� And other stuff.� Grown up stuff,� Mama said.
����������� �Do we have money now?�
����������� �A little,� Mama answered.
����������� �Why don�t we live in Westvirginia now?� Chloe asked.
����������� �We
live in
����������� Chloe turned on her side and nestled against her mom.� �I like Wesvirginya,� she said.
����������� �Me, too,� Mama said.
����������� The
room was quiet for a moment and then Mama said, �When summer comes we�ll go to
����������� Chloe didn�t answer.� Her cherub face was hidden by her hair and her little breaths made the covers rise and fall like a walnut bobbing on a lazy stream.� Or a flashlight�s beam moving through a black night.� Like well water playing on the edge of a bucket.� Like chapters of a book turned by the wind.