“What brought it on?” Dr. Hathaway asked as he checked Fannie’s vital signs.
“Her son Graham passed,” Doll said. “That started it. Then a few days ago her granddaughter shows up with Master Graham nothing but a bunch of ashes in a jar. If that weren’t enough, somehow, over lunch, Master Balfour’s name came up. Afraid it was all too much for Miss Fannie. Too much.”
“I see,” Dr. Hathaway said.
When he gave the signal, one of the attendants put Fannie’s arm around his neck, grabbed her by the waist, and escorted her out of the room. These episodes happened frequently enough that Doll had a small bag for Miss Fannie packed and ready. She handed it to the other attendant.
“We’ll take her in, see how she does,” the doctor said.
What that meant was, Fannie would be taken to St. Vincent’s Hospital, where she’d stay until the doctor felt she wasn’t a danger to herself or anyone else. Could be a day or two, could be a couple weeks. Never could tell.
“Her hand might need a stitch or two,” Queenie said. “I got it wrapped up tight.”
“I’ll take a look at it as soon as we get to the hospital,” the doctor said. “Okay, boys, let’s go.”
“You be good now, Miss Fannie. Don’t you worry none about Miss Ibby. We’ll take good care a her until you get back,” Queenie said as the attendant escorted Fannie down the hall, with Dr. Hathaway following closely behind.
Queenie and Doll stood by the front door, gazing through the etched-glass panel as the attendants loaded Fannie into the ambulance. Ibby appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Where are they taking Fannie?” Ibby asked.
She ran down the stairs, pushed past them, and threw open the front door.
Doll put her hands on Ibby’s shoulders and drew her back. “They just taking her to rest for a few days.”
“But where? Where are they taking her?”
Ibby was waving at Fannie frantically, as though she might never see her again.
“They taking her to St. Vincent’s, Miss Ibby.”
“The crazy hospital?” Ibby asked.
Doll turned Ibby around to face her. “Now listen, baby. They got revolving doors for people like Fannie who need a place to go when the sadness gets to be too much. She’ll be okay. Don’t you worry. She be back soon enough. Now come on.” She gently pulled the girl away from the door. “You gone come to church with us this morning.”
Ibby’s head shot around. “To church?”
Doll put her hands on her hips. “Ain’t you never been to church before?”
“Never.”
“Why’s that?”
“Mama says church is a bunch of garbage.”
“Well then,” Doll said with a tight-lipped smile, “this morning you gonna see for yourself. Then you can make up your own mind about it.”
When Crow pulled up in the driveway about an hour later, Queenie got into the front seat as Doll and Ibby slid into the back of the Chevy Malibu. Doll saw Crow peering at them through the rearview mirror.
“Anyone gone explain what’s going on?” he asked.
“Miss Fannie, she gone off for a few days,” Queenie said.
“I understand.” Crow nodded as he backed out of the driveway. “Sure do.”
After a while, he asked, “Miss Ibby, she going to church with us then?”
“Yes, Daddy. She can keep Birdelia company. We need to go by the house and change into our Sunday clothes first, though.”
“I understand,” Crow said again. A few minutes later he added, “You think that’s such a good idea, bringing her to church, knowing what the Reverend Jeremiah gone be preaching about this morning after the president’s speech and all?”
There was a long pause before Doll answered. “It’ll be all right, Daddy.”
Lawd, Doll was thinking, Daddy’s got a point. The reverend’s gone be going on about civil rights and how the black man has been oppressed and how it’s the white man that keeps him down. Just what is Miss Ibby gone think about all that? Not a good day to bring a little white girl to church. Hope nobody say nothing to her. Miss Ibby never been to church before. Maybe she won’t know the difference. She shook her head. She didn’t want any more trouble this morning. She’d already had her fill for one day. But who was she kidding? Everyone at church was going to notice the white child sitting with Birdelia.