The Help

“Ernestine, this is Miss Elizabeth . . . Oh, she’s not? Well, you tell her the minute she walks in that our sorority sister is on the television set . . . That’s right, thank you.”

Miss Leefolt rush back in the living room and set on the sofa, but it’s a commercial on. I get to breathing hard. What is she doing? We ain’t never watched the tee-vee together before. And here a all days she front and center like she be watching herself on screen!

All a sudden the Dial soap commercial over. And there be Mister Dennis with my book in his hand! White bird look bigger than life. He holding it up and poking his finger at the word Anonymous. For two seconds I’m more proud than I is scared. I want to yell—That’s my book! That’s my book on the tee-vee! But I got to keep still, like I’m watching something humdrum. I can’t barely breathe!

“. . . called Help with testimonies from some of Mississippi’s very own housekeepers—”

“Oh, I wish Hilly was home! Who can I call? Look at those cute shoes she’s got on, I bet she got those at The Papagallo Shoppe.”

Please shut up! I reach down and turn it up a little, but then I wish I hadn’t. What if they talk about her? Would Miss Leefolt even recognize her own life?

“. . . read it last night and now my wife is reading it . . .” Mister Dennis talking like a auction man, laughing, eyebrows going up and down, pointing at our book. “. . . and it is truly touching. Enlightening, I’d say, and they used the made-up town of Niceville, Mississippi, but who knows?” He halfway cover his mouth, whisper real loud, “It could be Jackson!”

Say what?

“Now, I’m not saying it is, it could be anywhere, but just in case, you need to go get this book and make sure you aren’t in it! Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha—”

I freeze, feel a tingle on my neck. Ain’t nothing in there that say Jackson. Tell me again it could be anywhere, Mister Dennis!

I see Miss Leefolt smiling at her friend on the tee-vee like the fool can see her, Mister Dennis be laughing and talking, but that sorority sister, Miss Joline, got a face on red as a stop sign.

“—a disgrace to the South! A disgrace to the good Southern women who’ve spent their lives taking care of their help. I know I personally treat my help like family and every one of my friends does the same—”

“Why is she frowning like that on tee-vee?” Miss Leefolt whine at the box. “Joline!” She lean forward and tap-tap-tap her finger on Miss Joline’s forehead. “Don’t frown! You don’t look cute that way!”

“Joline, did you read that ending? About the pie? If my maid, Bessie Mae, is out there listening, Bessie Mae, I have a new respect for what you do every day. And I’ll pass on the chocolate pie from now on! Ha-Ha-Ha—”

But Miss Joline holding up the book like she want to burn it. “Do not buy this book! Ladies of Jackson, do not support this slander with your husbands’ hard-earned—”

“Huh?” Miss Leefolt ask Mister Dennis. And then poof—we on to a Tide commercial.

“What were they talking about?” Miss Leefolt ask me.

I don’t answer. My heart’s pounding.

“My friend Joline had a book in her hand.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What was it called? Help or something like that?”

I press the iron point down in the collar a Mister Raleigh’s shirt. I got to call Minny, Miss Skeeter, find out if they heard this. But Miss Leefolt standing there waiting for my answer and I know she ain’t gone let up. She never do.

“Did I hear them say it was about Jackson?” she say.

I keep right on staring at my iron.

“I think they said Jackson. But why don’t they want us to buy it?”

My hands is shaking. How can this be happening? I keep ironing, trying to make what’s beyond wrinkled smooth.

A second later, the Tide commercial’s over and there’s Dennis James again holding up the book and Miss Joline’s still all red in the face. “That’s all for today,” he say, “but y’all be sure and pick up your copy of Little Big Man and Help from our sponsor, the State Street Bookstore. And see for yourself, is it or is it not about Jackson?” And then the music come on and he holler, “Good day, Mississippi!”

Miss Leefolt look at me and say, “See that? I told you they said it was about Jackson!” and five minutes later, she off to the bookstore to buy herself a copy a what I done wrote about her.

MINNY

chapter 30

AFTER THE People Will Talk show, I grab the Space Command and punch the “Off ” button. My stories are about to come on, but I don’t even care. Doctor Strong and Miss Julia will just have to turn the world without me today.

I’ve a mind to call that Dennis James on the phone and say, Who do you think you are, spreading lies like that? You can’t tell the whole metro area our book is about Jackson! You don’t know what town we’ve written our book about!