Knee-Deep in Wonder by April Reynolds

not attentive.”
    â€œOh, there you go,” said Queen Ester.
    Her mother was quick; she knew back talk when she heard it. And the first thing to fly out of my mouth shouldn’t have been Annie b’s funeral, Helene thought. I should have told Mama how I missed her and how I thought she looked like me. How I don’t hold it against her for sending me away like something she didn’t want. I could tell her that her toes are like mine, so she’d know I won’t lead her to anything bad and unknown. Nice and easy, I should have talked to her, like a stroll that takes you nowhere. But now her skin was up and Helene not only had to smooth her down but also had to get her in the car.
    â€œMama, listen, let’s talk about Annie b later. I mean, I didn’t just come down here to get you to go to the funeral. Stamps is real nice, you know…” Helene’s voice dwindled, but she coughed and began again. “Mama, remember the window? You and me at the window? I have your letters.” Gently, she groped in her purse, forgetting she had left them in the car. “I know you probably don’t … such a long time ago. I wanted to ask you—”
    â€œWhat you want to know about that room anyway?” Queen Ester interrupted.
    Helene swallowed her words.
    Changing her mind, Queen Ester began mid-sentence as if they were picking up on an old conversation. “Short thing, too. Couldn’t be no more than five seven. Short and looked like toast made just right—brown and brown over. And pretty, which don’t ever look right on a man, but I guess that’s why Mama let him stay. Friends with your daddy, Duck, if I remember it right. Guess he was a friend of mine too.”
    There was a slight pause in her voice, but then she said his name in a slow and concentrated moan. His name came out of her mouth like a hard, labored birth. “Ah … Chess. He didn’t never listen to Mama—”
    â€œGrandma knew him?” As Helene questioned, her mother’s eyebrows set down.
    â€œYeah, she did. You know how your grandma was. Took in every stray cat, dog, and raccoon in Lafayette. Guess she didn’t know the difference when Chess came sliding up on the porch.”
    â€œI guess she wouldn’t have,” Helene said. Even Annie b softened when she spoke of Liberty.
    Queen Ester continued. “Your grandma took in anything and everything. When she was living, this house was filled with things other folks would of turned out the door.” She moved out of her puddle and then grinned. “Got myself some kind of wet.” She pulled opened a drawer and took out a kitchen towel. After patting herself dry, she put it back in its place and continued. “You know, we had this chicken that wouldn’t lay eggs worth nothing. Shoulda killed it. All that bird was good for was a cooking pot. But Mama said, ‘Naw, it ain’t right to kill a body just cause it don’t act the way you expect it to.’
    â€œThen we had this cow that looked like rain and only thought about giving us milk on Saturday nights. I kept telling Mama: Steak, steak. But she wouldn’t listen. Had that cow for the longest time. Folks was always stopping by to tip they hat or tip a cup or get a slice of pie or talk when they wives swept them out of the door.”
    Without prompting, Queen Ester was filling in the blank spaces of her daughter’s memory and Helene loved her for it. She could see black women in thin cotton dresses, draped on bar stools, laughter in their mouths, while they waited for her grandmother to fill their plates.
    â€œYes, yes, them piano fingers of his.” Queen Ester’s voice broke into Helene’s thoughts, and suddenly she remembered: tapered hands holding a caramel Mary Jane between two fingers. Yes, I’m sure that was Chess. All I needed to start remembering were these things around me. Mama’s troubled