Free The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd

how come we only know about the white Mary? This would be like women finding out Jesus had had a twin sister who’d gotten half God’s genes but none of the glory.
    She handed it back. “I guess I can go to my grave now, because I’ve seen it all.”
    I pushed the picture down in my pocket. “You know what T. Ray said about my mother?” I asked, wanting finally to tell her what had happened. “He said she left me and him way before she died. That she’d just come back for her things the day the accident happened.”
    I waited for Rosaleen to say how ridiculous that was, but she squinted straight ahead as if weighing the possibility.
    â€œWell, it’s not true,” I said, my voice rising like something had seized it from below and was shoving it up into my throat. “And if he thinks I’m going to believe that story, he has a hole in his so-called brain. He only made it up to punish me. I know he did.”
    I could have added that mothers have instincts and hormones that prevent them leaving their babies, that even pigs and opossums didn’t leave their offspring, but Rosaleen, having finally pondered the matter, said, “You’re probably right. Knowing your daddy, he could do a thing like that.”
    â€œAnd my mother could never do what he said she did,” I added.
    â€œI didn’t know your mama,” Rosaleen said. “But I used to see her from a distance sometimes when I came out of the orchard from picking. She’d be hanging clothes on the line or watering her plants, and you’d be right there beside her, playing. I only saw her one time when you weren’t under her feet.”
    I had no idea Rosaleen had ever seen my mother. I felt suddenly light-headed, not knowing if it was from hunger or tiredness or this surprising piece of news. “What was she doing that time you saw her alone?” I asked.
    â€œShe was out behind the tractor shed, sitting on the ground, staring off at nothing. When we walked by, she didn’t even notice us. I remember thinking she looked a little sad.”
    â€œWell, who wouldn’t be sad living with T. Ray?” I said.
    I saw the lightbulb snap on in Rosaleen’s face then, the flash of recognition.
    â€œOh,” she said. “I get it. You ran off ’cause of what your daddy said about your mother. It didn’t have nothing to do with me in jail. And here you got me worrying myself sick about you running away and getting in trouble over me, and you would’ve run off anyway. Well, ain’t it nice of you to fill me in.”
    She poked out her lip and looked up toward the road, making me wonder if she was about to walk back the way we came. “So what are you planning to do?” she said. “Go from town to town asking people about your mother? Is that your bright idea?”
    â€œIf I needed somebody to criticize me around the clock, I could’ve brought T. Ray along!” I shouted. “And for your information, I don’t exactly have a plan.”
    â€œWell, you sure had one back at the hospital, coming in there saying we’re gonna do this and we’re gonna do that, and I’m supposed to follow you like a pet dog. You act like you’re my keeper. Like I’m some dumb nigger you gonna save.” Her eyes were hard and narrow.
    I rose to my feet. “That’s not fair!” Anger sucked the air from my lungs.
    â€œYou meant well enough, and I’m glad to be away from there, but did you think once to ask me?” she said.
    â€œWell, you are dumb!” I yelled. “You have to be dumb to pour your snuff juice on those men’s shoes like that. And then dumber not to say you’re sorry, if saying it will save your life. They were gonna come back and kill you, or worse. I got you out of there, and this is how you thank me. Well, fine.”
    I stripped off my Keds, grabbed my bag, and waded into the creek. The