Mystery of the Dark Tower by Evelyn Coleman Page A

under Little Ed’s bed. And I want to know why you haven’t helped this boy stop his stuttering. You know I can’t abide a person who can’t speak plainly.”
    â€œMaybe you just make him nervous,” Aunt Nellie said. She looked like she knew what the weary blues were, too, Bessie thought.
    â€œWell, right now I want to know why you allowed these children to be snooping all over my house.”
    Aunt Nellie tugged her ear. “I told them to hide under the bed to surprise their papa when he came back.”
    Bessie closed her eyes. Aunt Nellie couldn’t fib at all. She was worse than Eddie. Who was going to believe that a grown-up sent them under the bed to surprise Papa?
    â€œYou did, did you? Uh-huh,” Aunt Esther said. “Well, all this nonsense is going to stop. And look at all that dust that was under the bed. Nellie, all I ask in exchange for you staying here is to help keep the house clean. You know I don’t abide dust.”
    â€œEsther, why don’t you let the children go get ready for breakfast?” Aunt Nellie said, sighing.
    â€œDon’t tell me what to do in my house, Baby Sister,” Aunt Esther said. “No wonder Little Ed wanted me here. I told him you would let the children run all over you.” She turned to Bessie and Eddie. “You children are out of control. Get downstairs right now. I’ll deal with you in a minute.”
    Bessie shivered. She felt like the coldest freeze of winter was inside her body. She imagined she was the tobacco when the ice takes it over, turning it dry and not fit for use. She couldn’t believe it, but Aunt Esther must be worse than Mama and Papa about not letting you grow up. She still called Papa “Little Ed.” Even Grandma hadn’t called him that.
    Downstairs at breakfast, Aunt Esther served them something white that sort of looked like grits. “Aunt Esther,” Bessie asked, “what is this?”
    Aunt Esther stopped scrubbing the counter and turned to stare at Bessie. “What is it? Girl, what have you been eating for breakfast?”
    Eddie spoke up. “B-b-bacon and s-s-sausage and stuff.”
    â€œBacon? Sausage? Lord, that girl knows how expensive meat is. That’s rich folks’ eating. What in the world else did you eat?”
    Now Bessie was sorry she’d asked the question. She might get Aunt Nellie in trouble. “It’s all right,” Bessie said. “We ate this. I just forgot what it’s called.”
    â€œUh-huh,” Aunt Esther said, eyeing Bessie like she didn’t believe a word of it. “It’s Cream of Wheat. It’s healthy and it’s cheap. I can’t believe Baby Sister would be giving you children meat every day like we got money to burn. She’s going to put me in the poorhouse.”
    Bessie watched Aunt Esther mumbling around the kitchen. She and Eddie ate the strange cereal in silence. Finally, Aunt Esther sat down at the table. “I have something to tell you children. Your papa had to leave. He’s gone away to work for a while. He’ll be back, though. Don’t worry. He wired me to come home so I could take care of you. Now that I’m here, you children will be taken care of the way you ought to be.”
    Bessie didn’t lower her spoon from her mouth. She felt like she would cry any second.
    Aunt Esther reached over and patted Bessie’s other hand. “Now, now, you two don’t get upset. It’ll be all right. I’m going to be right here.”
    â€œI-I-I-I-I w-w-want M-m-mama,” Eddie said.
    Bessie dropped the spoon into her bowl and took his hand in hers. “Don’t cry, please,” she pleaded, shifting her eyes to Aunt Esther.
    â€œIt ain’t no need to be crying, boy,” Aunt Esther said. “I raised Baby Sister and your papa when our mama was away working as a live-in maid. And they both turned out all right. What you crying