by Janet Walker
***
“Well! You’re awake! How do you feel?”
“Bad.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll give you another painkiller. It’s time, anyway.”
“I ain’t talking about that kinda bad.” Tracy pouted. “I’m talking about I shoulda been at tryouts today.”
“We’ve already talked about that, Tracy. And you know there was no way I was going to let you go with your face in that condition.”
“But Miz Grace said—”
“I know. You told me. You can’t miss a day—”
“Or you can’t try out!”
“She’ll understand why you couldn’t make it, Tracy. Nobody’s that unreasonable.”
“She is! That’s what the students say! Told you she gotta lotta rules!”
“Well, I’ve got rules, too. And mine say that what is best for you is what is most important to me.”
“Well, your rules might keep me from being on the basketball team.” Tracy folded her arms and sulked.
Madge sat on the bed beside the girl and sighed apologetically. “What if I call Miss Grace tomorrow and explain what happened?”
The teen’s defiance softened. “What you gon’ say?”
“The same thing you should say if anybody asks what happened. That you were mugged.”
Tracy frowned skeptically. Mugged was not an Area Place word. “Miz Grace don’t care about that.”
“Of course she does. She’s got a heart. She probably just doesn’t want you students to think so. But I’ll talk to her.”
Tracy sighed, relieved but not convinced her aunt could subvert the coach’s rule.
“Anyway, while you were asleep, I went to see your mother.”
Tracy’s expression darkened into a frown. “What she say?”
“That she wasn’t going to do anything to those girls who hurt you!”
Tracy stared at the bedcover.
“Well, there was no way I was going to do that.”
Tracy looked up at her aunt with sharp curiosity. “What you do?”
“I passed the playground and saw three girls…”
Tracy gasped.
“…and something just told me who they were. I went up to them and I was right. It was Virginia Daggett and her two friends.”
“What!”
“I was surprised, too. Talk about coincidence. But I didn’t carry on a scene. I just had a little talk with them.”
“Talk? What you say?”
“That I knew what they had done to you and that if it happens again I will call the police. Don’t worry, I let them know you didn’t have anything to do with it. That you had even told me not to say anything.”
“And what they say?”
“Tried to pretend they were innocent! The crooks! I’m not used to girls like that. When we were coming up, females had respect for themselves. You didn’t see them going around acting like boys, playing hooky and such. And if you did, people considered them strange. Now they seem to be the norm.”
“Aun’ Madge, you shouldn’t-na said nothing to them…”
“Tracy, there was no way I was going to not say something, after what they did to you.”
“Aun’ Madge, you shouldn’t-na…!” Tracy covered her face, groaned, dropped her hands, gave up. “It’s ah’right, okay? Forget it.”
Madge hesitated. Her assuredness turned into doubt. “What? You think they’ll try to retaliate? I did tell them I was acting without your permission.”
“It’s ah’right.”
“Are you sh—”
“Can I just go back to sleep now?”
“You just woke up.”
“I don’t care. I wanna go back to sleep.”
“Well, don’t you want something to eat first? I made your fave—”
“No.”
“Can I get you something to dr—”
“No. I just wanna go back to sleep. Please?”
Madge reached forward to lay a palm on Tracy’s forehead. “Well, let me just check your temp—”
The girl gently blocked the contact at the wrist. “It’s ah’right,” she repeated, which meant, Don’t touch me, I’m okay.
The two looked at each other—the aunt with surprise, the niece with embarrassment. The blocked gesture of affection was the first action of its kind between them.
“All right, then,” Madge said softly. She got up from the mattress, her feelings hurt. “I’ll let you sleep. But call me if you need anything.”
