East of Orleans by Renee' Irvin Page B

sidewalk. As soon as she got to the bank, she saw her mama and granny in the lobby.
    Granny stood firm, shaking her finger in Mr. Hartwell’s face. She could hear Mr. Hartwell’s voice and suddenly wished that she had stayed away longer. She stared through the bank’s large window and saw her mama looking distraught. Granny looked deranged.
    “Ladies, if there was any other way, I would love to help you, you know that. Don’t you, Lila?” Lila looked around the lobby.
    “But you ladies got to realize the board will not allow me to wait any longer. Don’t think I have not worried myself sick about this. You both know how I felt about Miles.” Lila’s eyes misted with tears. Rollins rubbed his temple and exhaled. “I tell you what; I’ll give you thirty days to pay the interest on the mortgage. That should give you time to come up with a solution of some sort. But that’s all I can do. After the thirty days, well, I’m sorry to say the bank will have to foreclose.”
    Granny’s eyes flashed hatred at Rollins Hartwell.
    “What do you mean the bank will foreclose? Hartwell, you old buzzard, you are the one foreclosing, not the bank! You think nobody knows that you have stolen from all the poor people in the valley? Huh? Think again, Hartwell!” Granny raised her black beaded drawstring bag and slammed it against Rollins Hartwell’s head. He yelped and began rubbing his head.
    Isabella ran into the bank and grabbed Granny’s arm. “Granny what in this world!” Isabella pulled on Granny’s hands and hips.
    “You apologize to Mr. Hartwell, you hear?” Isabella looked over at her mother. “Mama, take Granny outside for a walk.” Lila looked at Isabella with empty eyes and then took Granny by the hand.
    Isabella turned to Rollins Hartwell, still rubbing the side of his head from the direct hit. She spoke with a throat full of emotion. “Mr. Hartwell, you know we are all alone and I appreciate your helping us, but you must know how hard this is for Granny.” Isabella pulled Granny toward her. “Come on, Granny, let’s go.”
    Isabella opened the bank door and stepped outside. She looked at her mother. “What in the name of the Lord--! Mama, you know you cannot let Granny slug Mister Hartwell anytime she feels like it. We gotta keep quiet until we find a way out of this mess.”
    Lila seemed oblivious to all that was around her as she stared into the distance.
    Isabella started down the bank steps and with one hand shielding her eyes from the blazing sun.
    In the distance, she saw a young Negro boy running down the street, as though a tiger was chasing him. With a package under one arm, he yanked at his loose suspenders with the other. The boy ran straight up to Isabella, and by the time he reached her, he was gasping for air. He laid the large package at her feet as he said, “You Miz Isabella Grace?” His eyes were dark and quick. He had a strong jaw and a handsome face.
    “For heaven’s sake--” said Granny as she looked at him with curious eyes.
    She took hold of the horse’s bridle and looked the boy up and down. “Boy, your mama ain’t got any soap?”
    “Ain’t got no ma, just me. I worked on the railroad for a while and then came back here a couple of months ago when my pa took sick.”
    Granny moved closer to him and from her expression, you could tell that she was concerned. “He’s doing better now, son?”
    “Yessum he is. He’s dead.”
    Granny gave him a quizzical look. “How old are you, boy?”
    “I ain’t no boy, I’ll be nineteen next week.” He flashed a warm smile. “My name’s Jesse; pleased to meet you.”
    Isabella smiled and spun around. “My name’s Isabella, Isabella McCoy, Jesse. This is my mama, Lila McCoy, and my granny.”
    Jesse tapped his foot and they noticed something in his right trouser pocket. He saw three sets of eyes staring at his trouser pocket. He shook his head and laughed, then removed the object from his pocket. All three women jumped