Absalom's Daughters by Suzanne Feldman

’fore they set it on fire. I’m goin’ to Virginia to get my due, and then I’m goin’ to New York City to become a reddio star. I ain’t goin’ ’lone neither.”
    The black macadam gleamed dully under the moon as they walked. Judith came over closer to Cassie. “What you gonna do in Heron-Neck?” she said. “The laundry? You gonna do what your granny wants for the rest of your life?”
    Cassie was on the watch for headlights or any sign of motion from the dark woods behind them. She walked more quickly. Judith followed her.
    â€œPeople get rich in New York City,” said Judith.
    â€œWe ain’t never gone get rich,” said Cassie. “All I know is how to do laundry, an’ all you know is how to deliver it. And Virginia ain’t nowhere near New York City.”
    â€œVirginia where we gonna get our nest egg,” said Judith. “We gonna find my daddy— our daddy—and we gonna demand our share of what he got. Whatever he’s owed is owed to us too.”
    â€œYou outta your mind.”
    Judith drew herself up, tall in her worn-out shoes. “I understan’ if you feel that way. Ain’t no original thinking goin’ on round here near as I kin tell. You stay here and find a husband—or whatever you end up with—an’ have youself a passel of young’uns. As your life goes by, you can think of me.”
    Cassie scuffed at the road. “How long you think you’ll be gone?”
    â€œYears likely. When I return, I’ll be in a big car with a driver. An’ a maid. No, two maids. And a lil ol’ lap dog.”

 
    CHAPTER THREE
    The next morning, the February weather had turned cool enough for heavier coats. At the estate sale, sparse clouds passed overhead, leaving the Tawney plantation in patches of winter sun, which didn’t actually warm anyone. Most of the county turned out for the sale, not just the folks in Heron-Neck. Farmers and their bundled-up wives mixed with oily-shirted mechanics and sharecroppers alike. The gaunt and the fat showed up to see what the Tawneys would throw out.
    â€œMiz Tabitha’s prices were reasonable,” said Lil Ma, a woolen shawl around her shoulders, “but it’d be nice to pick up a few new plates now that she’s gone.”
    â€œWe’re here for just one thing.” Grandmother stepped to one side to avoid a puddle. “That wringer’s going to cost enough.”
    â€œI wish you’d talk to Mrs. Tawney about the wringer,” said Lil Ma. “You’re better at talking to her than I am. You’ll get a better price.”
    â€œYou’ll do what needs to be done,” said Grandmother. “You need to learn to stand up for yourself. I won’t be around forever.”
    Cassie followed Grandmother and Lil Ma, wearing the brown wool coat she’d outgrown two years ago at fourteen. But it was warmer than the one she usually wore, which was still a little damp from yesterday’s laundry delivery. She pushed her hands into the too-small pockets, not wanting to get in the middle of this argument. Lil Ma was afraid of old Mrs. Tawney, who would surely be in charge of the selling of the wringer. Every time Lil Ma took Cassie to Tawney’s Store, she kept her eyes down and acted ashamed when old Mrs. Tawney was there instead of Miz Tabitha. When Grandmother went along, she looked old Mrs. Tawney straight in the face and had no problem with the dealing that had to be done to get a new pot or a set of towels or even clothespins. Lil Ma hung back. Cassie knew Grandmother didn’t like the way Lil Ma behaved, but it was the first time she’d heard her Grandmother say, I won’t be around forever . It was like a threat, but in some ways a relief to the imagination.
    Cassie let herself trail farther and farther behind, looking for Judith in the crowd. The Tawneys’ old barn was down the hill from the