2018.06.21

It's Thursday.

The Indian made two short, harsh sounds in his throat. The other Indian made one sound, like Hah. Laura hid her eyes behind the slab again. She heard Ma take the cover off the bake oven. She heard the Indians squat down on the hearth. After a while she heard them eating. Laura peeked, and hid, and peeked again, while the Indians ate the cornbread that Ma had baked. They ate every morsel of it, and even picked up the crumbs from the hearth. Ma stood and watched them and stroked Baby Carrie’s head. Mary stood close behind Ma and held on to her sleeve. Faintly Laura heard Jack’s chain rattling. Jack was still trying to get loose. When every crumb of the cornbread was gone, the Indians rose up. The skunk smell was stronger when they moved. One of them made harsh sounds in his throat again. Ma looked at him with big eyes; she did not say anything. The Indian turned around, the other Indian turned, too, and they walked across the floor and out through the door. Their feet made no sound at all. Ma sighed a long, long sigh. She hugged Laura tight in one arm and Mary in the other arm, and through the window they watched those Indians going away, one behind the other, on the dim trail toward the west. Then Ma sat down on the bed and hugged Laura and Mary tighter, and trembled. She looked sick. Mary asked her if she felt sick. Ma said no and she was just thankful they were gone. Laura wrinkled her nose and said that they smelt awful. Ma said that that was the skunk skins they had worn. Then they told her how they had left Jack and had come into the house because they were afraid the Indians would hurt her and Baby Carrie. Ma said they were her brave little girls.