“Uh-huh. ‘Pretty ugly,’ I can relate to that one.” Queenie winked, then disappeared back into the kitchen.
Fannie was now concentrating hard on something else in the newspaper. She squinted between drags of her cigarette. Finally, Fannie put the paper down and stubbed out her cigarette. “How’d you sleep?” Fannie asked.
“I could have sworn I heard a tiger.” Ibby shrugged. “I must have been dreaming.”
“No, dear, you weren’t dreaming. The Audubon Zoo’s only a couple of blocks from here.” Fannie pointed behind her. “When the wind blows north toward the lake, you can hear the foghorns from the ships on the Mississippi River and smell the molasses coming from the plant next to Audubon Park.” Fannie leaned in and said in a much lower voice, “And on still nights, over the din of the attic fan, you can sometimes hear the screams from the nuthouse over on Henry Clay Avenue.” Fannie closed one eye as she lit another cigarette. “Found one walking up the street just the other day.”
“A tiger?” Ibby asked.
“No, dear, a woman from the nuthouse.”
“Did they catch her?”
“I’m not sure.” Fannie smiled ruefully.
Ibby looked around for the urn she’d left on the table.
“Something wrong, dear?” Fannie asked.
“Uh, no ma’am,” Ibby answered, not wanting to upset her. She fiddled with the napkin in her lap, praying that Doll hadn’t disposed of the urn in her haste to calm Fannie down yesterday.
The kitchen door swung open, and Queenie set a large tray of food on the table. Ibby had never seen so much food—scrambled eggs and bacon, a plate of pain perdu drizzled with syrup and powdered sugar, and a bowl full of white mush with yellow liquid floating in the middle of it.
“What’s that white stuff?” Ibby pointed.
“Grits, baby. Just stir the butter in with your spoon.”
A few moments later Queenie appeared again. “Yes, Miss Fannie?”
“Can you bring me a pencil so I can mark today’s horses?”
“Got one right here in my pocket.”
A few minutes later Queenie was back again. “Yes, Miss Fannie?”
Ibby piped up. “Grandma Fannie, how does Queenie always seem to know when you want something?”
Queenie heaved up her bosom. “I guess I been working here so long, I just know.”
“Look under the table.” Fannie pointed at her foot. “There’s a button in the floor. Every time I press it, a bell rings in the kitchen. Something left over from the olden days, when people had servants.”
“Yeah, left over. When people had servants,” Queenie said as she left the room.
Two seconds later she was back again. “What you want now?”
“You left before I could tell you,” Fannie said.
“Oh, guess I did. What you want?”
“Look at this. The paper says there was a scuffle down at the Woolworth’s, and there’s a picture of a woman sprawled on the floor . . .”
Queenie peered over her shoulder, her eyes wide. She grabbed the paper from Fannie and hid it behind her back.
“What’d you do that for?” Fannie asked.
Queenie thought hard for an answer. “Got a recipe in there I wanted to try today.”
“I didn’t see a recipe.”
“Oh, it’s there all right,” Queenie said.
“Let me see. Which one?” Fannie held her hand up.
“It’s gone be a surprise.” Queenie winked at Ibby.
Fannie turned to Ibby. “Queenie’s full of surprises. So tell me, Queenie, what do we have planned for Ibby today?”
“We? Thought you might have some ideas of your own.” Queenie put her hand on her hip as she shoved the newspaper into the pocket of her apron.
“Why don’t you take her over to the swimming pool at Audubon Park? She might like that.”
“Can’t do that, Miss Fannie.”
“Why not?” Fannie asked.
“You know why not.” Queenie crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot.
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, Miss Fannie, you do.”
“Remind me.”
“’Cause, Miss Fannie, you know darn well they closed the pool last summer.”
“It was a nice pool,” Fannie sighed.
Queenie narrowed her eyes. “Sure it was. I wouldn’t know.”
“Then why’d they close it, for God’s sake?”
Queenie was beginning to look put out. “You don’t remember, do you?”
“Just tell me, please. I’m getting a headache.”
“The city closed it ’cause they didn’t want colored folks in the water mixing with the white folks, dirtying it all up. So rather than integrate like they supposed to, they closed the pool.”
Miss Fannie closed her eyes. “I guess I just haven’t been paying attention.”
“Guess you haven’t,” Queenie said as she went back to the kitchen.
Fannie turned to Ibby. “So what are we going to do with you today?”
Queenie came back into the dining room, looking a little exasperated. This time she just crossed her arms and waited.
“Why don’t you take Ibby on down to Honey Friedrichs’s house? She’s got a daughter about Ibby’s age, Annabelle, I think her name is.”