Free Nothing to Fear by Jackie French Koller Page A

don't dawdle on the way."
    I carried the linens downstairs, loaded them into my wagon, and headed over to Miss Emily's Hotel for Young Women. Sadie let me in the back door. She's the cook—a big colored lady with cheeks that shine like polished mahogany and eyes full of laughter.
    "Mawnin', child," she said, giving me a wide, warm smile. "How y'all doin' this day?"
    "Just fine, Sadie," I told her. I don't know how she stays so cheerful, working for the likes of Miss Emily. Miss Emily is as bony and cold as Sadie is round and warm.
    The kitchen smelled of good things to eat. Beyond the swinging doors I could hear the clink of silverware and the murmur of conversation. Sadie went to tell Miss Emily I was there. As I was bringing in the linens, a maid started carrying the finished plates out into the kitchen. I couldn't believe my eyes.
Some of them were hardly touched, still heaped with eggs, pancakes, biscuits, and thick slabs of ham. Just looking at them made my stomach growl and my mouth flood up with water.
    Sadie bustled back in and caught me staring at the food.
    "Ain't it a shame," she said, shaking her head. "These fine ladies always fussin' over their little bitty waistlines—eat like birds, the lot of 'em." Then she grinned and gave me a wink. "I keep tellin' 'em, a man likes a little flesh on a woman. Ain't that the truth?"
    I felt myself blushing. "Yes, ma'am, I suppose so," I said. The next thing I knew, my eyes got pulled back to that food again. Jeez, that cave in my stomach was aching.
    Sadie grabbed a big biscuit from one of the plates, split it open, spread it thick with butter, and loaded on two huge slabs of ham.
    "Here," she said, holding it out to me. "Ain't no use lettin' good food go to waste."
    My fingers itched to reach for it, but I held them still.
    "I already had breakfast, thanks."
    Sadie turned her head sideways and looked me up and down. "Lawd, child," she said, "don't look to me like you're in need of watchin' your weight." She pushed the biscuit into my hand.
    I pushed it back. "Mama don't let me take charity," I said quietly.
    "Charity! That what you think this is? That ain't what this is. This is soul savin'."
    "Soul savin'?"
    "Shore 'nuff. Ain't you ever heard that it's a sin to waste food?"
    "Yes, ma'am."
    "Well then. You'd just be savin' the souls of them fine ladies in there if you was to eat this up now, wouldn't you?"
    I knew it was all a bunch of baloney, but I just couldn't hold out any longer. I took the biscuit and bit in. I thought for sure I'd died and gone to heaven. I'd never tasted anything so rich and good in my whole life. As hungry as I was, I chewed it slowly, pushing it around my mouth with my tongue, trying to get every last drop of flavor out before I swallowed it down.
    Just then Miss Emily walked in. She glanced at me briefly, scowled, and looked away. She went over to Sadie and put a ten-dollar bill in her hand.
    "I told you not to be giving handouts to these waifs," she said, not caring that I was standing right there. "It just makes them lazy and shiftless." Then she turned and marched out again without another glance in my direction.
    There was hatred burning in Sadie's eyes as she handed me the money. "You never mind her," she said, but it was too late. The biscuit had turned as sour as throw-up in my mouth. I swallowed it with difficulty and put the rest down on the table. I reached
into my pocket and touched the two nickels Ma had given me. I held them for a minute, just thinking about those Baby Ruths, but then in my mind I saw Miss Emily's scowling face and felt the sting of her words again. I pulled the nickels out and plunked them down next to the biscuit.
    "Would you make sure Miss Emily gets these," I asked Sadie.
    Her eyes met mine, and then a slow, approving smile spread across her face. She nodded and gave me a wink.
    "I shore will, honey," she said softly. "I shore 'nuff will."
    Maybe I didn't have nothing to show for it, but for the way it