"That's very kind of you. Look how nice strangers can be," she said to Butterfly. "Well now, I live in a very exclusive area. My husband thought it would always be a nice neighborhood and he said, let's invest in a home here. We'll never be sorry, and we never were. It's a lot of house for just a little old lady, you understand, but I am as used to those old walls as they are to me. I couldn't imagine living with my children. It's nice to visit, but remember what Ben Franklin said, 'Guests and fish smell in three days.' " She laughed. This time Crystal joined. "Ain't that the truth? Ain't it though?"
We were all chanting it by the time we entered Morrisville. The sky had darkened and there was a light drizzle falling. One of Gordon's windshield wipers was badly worn and only streaked the right side. I tried not using them.
"You go right down Main Street," Theresa directed, "and then you turn on Fourth and I'll show you. Thank you, dear." She smiled a
t Butterfly. "What a sweet child. You know, my mother said I was a pretty little girl. She said all the men would give me a penny and I would do a little dance. My father could whistle whole symphonies.
"He was a happy-go-lucky man," she said, "but he never made a good living. Not like my husband, who sold good soles and saved . . . saved so many." She paused and wiped her face with her hand. "I'm tired. I'm glad I decided to go along with you girls."
I reached Fourth Street and turned right. It looked like a shabby neighborhood to me. The houses were old, worn, the small patches of lawn bald and messy, full of weeds and garbage. One even had some old tires on it. We didn't see many people. The rain started to fall a little harder.
"Looks like I should have remembered my umbrella. I don't think it was supposed to rain, though."
With the dark clouds above, the drizzle falling, the neighborhood looked even more dismal. The gutters weren't very clean and in front of one house, four dogs had turned over a garbage can and were chomping through whatever food remains they could find.
"You don't live here, do you?" Raven asked.
"Oh no. I live nearby," she said. "When you come to the corner, turn left and I'll get out," she said. "I can walk a little. You've been very nice, but I just can't ask you in. My house is a mess and I'm tired. I'm going right to bed. I'm sorry."
"That's all right," Crystal said. "We have a lot of traveling to do and have to make as much distance as we can before it gets dark."
"Thank you, dears. Thank you, thank you," she said moving in her seat.
"Here?" I said.
"Thank you, dears. Thank you."
I stopped and Crystal opened the door. Theresa started to slide out. She paused and turned to look back at Butterfly.
"Don't you sell anyone any of your curls. And watch out for men who wink when they smile. Goodbye," she said with a wisp of a smile
"Good-bye," Butterfly said sadly.
"Good-bye," Crystal told her. Raven said it too, and I followed. Crystal got back in the car and for a moment, we watched Theresa James waddle up the sidewalk. She paused near an open lot. I started the car.
"We better get back to Main Street," Crystal said. "We'll find our way to the main highway easier."
"Right."
I turned into a driveway and backed up. As we started down the street again, we saw Theresa off to the right of the vacant lot. She put her bag down by a large cardboard box. I slowed to a stop.
"What is she doing?" Raven wondered aloud. We all did.
A moment later, she got down on her knees and she crawled into the box. My heart did a flip-flop.
"Crystal?" I cried.
"She's homeless," Crystal said. "You know, I thought she might be. There was something about her and that odor of burnt wood. Everything she told us was either a dream or . . ."
"Or what?"
"Or she's the worse kind of orphan there is, Butterfly, a mother forgotten by all her children."
"How can we leave her sleeping in a box?" Butterfly cried as I continued.
"What can we do, Butterfly?" Raven said. "We can't even help ourselves."
The hard truth fell like cold rain around us.