The Sisters from Hardscrabble Bay by Beverly Jensen Page A

slamming the door.
    “What bit her on the ass?” Avis said, staring after her.
    Maddie turned and smiled at Avis. “Such talk, Petite Avie. She is sad. And angry.”
    “Petite Avie?” Avis laughed. “Is that French for ‘Pretty Avis’?”
    Maddie reached over and pulled bits of straw from Avis’s hair. “Pretty Avis. Oui. Sad Idella.”
     
    Maddie did not go to sleep when the girls did. She said that she would just sit on her bed and look out the window. She slept very little, she said, and never before midnight or one.
    “Well, you’d better get to sleep sooner than that to get up in time to do stuff,” Idella said, sitting stiffly on her bed in her nightgown.
    “Ah, oui, I am up at dawn. I shake the rooster.”
    “Why don’t you go downstairs with Dad?” Avis asked.
    “Ah, non. Non, I belong here with you girls.”
    “Well, I think this is weird,” Idella said.
    “Shut up, Idella, and go to sleep.” Avis was under the covers. “Then you won’t know she’s here.”
    Idella did think it odd. She could feel Maddie’s heavy presence. She was such a poor hulk of a thing. Her cheeks were rough and reddish, as if she rubbed at her face a lot. Idella pulled the blanket up over her eyes. Still, her smile had a sweetness. It came and went so quick, like a rabbit skirting out of the tall grass and then freezing up again.
    “Good night, Maddie,” Avis said finally, in a voice that had lost its vinegar. “I’m glad you’re here.” She was soon asleep.
    Idella lay there longer, feeling the new presence in the room, smelling her body smells. There was dirt and milk and salt about her. Idella turned her face to the wall and fell asleep.
     
    Avis sat up in bed the next morning and looked over at the small cot. The brown woolen blanket Maddie had brought was carefully spread over it. The lump was gone, and she was gone. “Where’s Maddie?”
    “Look out the window, why don’t you?” Idella, who’d been lying awake, pointed toward the cliffs.
    Maddie was standing at the top of the cliff ladder looking out to the bay.
    “She better not go over the cliffside,” Idella said, joining Avis at the window. “Dad’d be mad as hell.”
    Avis turned to Idella. “Let’s go through her things. I want to find her treasure.”
    “No, Avis. That’s not nice. And she’s coming back now.”
    “Maddie’s not very pretty, is she?” Avis said, watching again from behind the curtain.
    “Well, no. I don’t guess she is,” Idella said.
    They got themselves dressed and down the stairs. It was much earlier than usual for them, but they were interested. Maddie was now in the kitchen standing at the stove over the black iron fry pan. There was nothing in the pan yet. The blue tin pot on the stove had steam still coming out the spout; the smell of coffee was strong. Bill’s door was closed.
    Maddie looked up when the girls came in. “Bonjour.” Her smile stayed a little longer than yesterday. “Café?”
    “You think too much French in the morning,” Avis said. “You’ve got to switch to English before Dad gets up. He hates not knowing the words.”
    “Coffee?” Maddie repeated. “Sweet?”
    “Sure!”
    “Avis! We don’t drink coffee yet.”
    “I’m ready. Nobody offered it up before.” Avis got herself a cup off the shelf and held it under the pot. Maddie looked at Idella, who shrugged and went to get down her own cup. Maddie nodded and half filled Avis’s cup.
    “Looks like spring mud,” Avis said.
    Maddie pursed her lips and frowned. “Too strong you think I make it?”
    “Oh, no. I wouldn’t say.” Avis took the cup from her. “Where’s the sweet?” Maddie pointed to the sugar bowl.
    The bedroom door opened with a scrape. Bill came walking out, tousled and unshaven and blinking back the light of morning. “That’s the best smell of coffee I’ve woke to in about all my life, Maddie. It smells so strong I don’t even need to drink it. If you keep smells like that in the house, I’ll