He started to follow her.
“Don’t,” she snapped, and kept walking.
Outside, she grabbed Loreda’s arm and half dragged her out to the street, where they began walking home in the dark. Automobiles rumbled past them, headlights bright.
“Mom, if you’d listen to him—”
“No,” Elsa said. “And neither will you. It’s my job to keep you safe. By God, I’ve failed at everything else. I will not fail at that. Do you hear me?”
Loreda stopped.
Elsa had no choice but to stop, too, and turn back. “What?”
“Do you really think you’ve failed me?”
“Look at us. Walking back to a cabin smaller than our old toolshed. Both of us skinny as matchsticks and hungry all of the time. Of course I’ve failed you.”
“Mom,” Loreda said, moving close. “I’m alive because of you. I go to school. I can think because you want to make sure I always do. You haven’t failed me. You’ve saved me.”
“Don’t you try to turn this around and make it about thinking for yourself and growing up.”
“But it is about that, Mom. Isn’t it?”
“I can’t lose you,” Elsa said, and there it was: the truth.
“I know, Mom. And I love you. But I need this.”
“No,” Elsa said firmly. “No. Now start walking. We have an early wake-up.”
“Mom—”
“No, Loreda. No.”
* * *
LOREDA WOKE AT FIVE-THIRTY and had to force herself out of bed. Her hands hurt like the dickens and she needed about ten hours of sleep and a good meal.
She put on her tattered pants and a shirt with long, ripped sleeves and trudged out to get in line at the bathroom.
The camp was strangely quiet. People were out and about, of course, but there wasn’t much conversation. No one made eye contact for long. A field foreman stood at the chain-link fence, hat drawn low, watching people. She knew there were more spies about, listening for any talk of a strike.
She got in line for the bathroom. There were about ten women in front of her.
As she waited, she saw a flash of movement back in the trees. Ike, at the water pump, filling a bucket. Loreda wanted to walk right over to him, but she didn’t dare.
She finally made it to the front of the line and used the bathroom.
She exited from the back door, closing it quietly behind her. She looked around, didn’t see anyone loitering or watching. Trying to look casual, she strolled over to the water pump.
Ike was still there. He saw her coming and stepped aside. She bent over and washed her hands in the cold water.
“We’re meeting tonight,” Ike said quietly. “Midnight. The laundry.”
Loreda nodded and dried her hands on her pants. It wasn’t until she was halfway back to her cabin that she felt a prickling of awareness along the back of her neck. Someone was watching her or following her.
She stopped, turned suddenly.
Mr. Welty stood there in the trees, smoking a cigarette. Staring at Loreda. “Come here, missy,” he said.