Free Home by Toni Morrison Page A

formality, some record, otherwise the couple would have just another lax “living together” arrangement. Having no obligations, left one of them free to steal a Ford and the other to deny responsibility.
    Jackie also described the condition of two families that had lost sons in Korea. One was the Durhams, Michael’s folks. Lenore remembered him as a nasty piece of work and close friends with Frank. And another boy named Abraham, son of Maylene and Howard Stone,the one they called “Stuff,” was also killed. Frank alone of the trio survived. He, so the chatter went, was never coming back to Lotus. The reaction of the Durhams and the Stones to the deaths of their sons was appropriate, but you would have thought they were waiting for the bodies of saints to be sent home. Didn’t they know or remember how all three of those boys angled for invitations to that hairdresser’s house? Talk about loose. Talk about disgrace. Mrs. K., they called her. Uppity didn’t do her justice. When Reverend Alsop went to see her and cautioned her not to entertain local teenagers, she threw a cup of hot coffee on his shirt. A few grandmothers had encouraged the Reverend to speak to her, but the fathers didn’t care about Mrs. K.’s services, nor did the mothers. Teenagers had to learn somewhere and a local widow who didn’t want their husbands was more of a boon than a sin. Besides, their own daughters were safer that way. Mrs. K. did not solicit or charge. Apparently she occasionally satisfied herself (and teenage boys) when her appetite sharpened. Besides, nobody styled hair better. Lenore would not go across the road to say “Good morning,” let alone sit in the abomination of her kitchen.
    All this she told Jackie, and although the girl’s eyes glazed over, she didn’t argue or contradict Lenore as Salem consistently did.
    She was a profoundly unhappy woman. And, although she had married to avoid being by herself, disdain of otherskept her solitary if not completely alone. What soothed her was a fairly fat savings account, owning property, and having one, actually two, of the few automobiles in the neighborhood. Jackie was as much company as she wanted. Besides a good listener and great worker, the girl was worth much more than the quarter Lenore paid her each day.
    And then it stopped.
    Mr. Haywood said somebody had thrown two puppies out of the bed of a truck right before his eyes. He braked, picked up the one that had not had its neck broken, a female, and brought her to Lotus for the children he gave comic books and candy to. Although a few were delighted and took care of the puppy, others teased it. Jackie, however, adored the dog, feeding and protecting her and teaching her tricks. No wonder she immediately latched on to Jackie, who loved her most. She named the dog Bobby.
    Bobby didn’t normally eat chickens. She preferred pigeons; their bones were sweeter. And she didn’t hunt for food; she merely ate whatever meal was given her or that she came across. So the pullet that pecked for worms around Lenore’s porch steps was a clear invitation. The stick that Lenore used to beat Bobby off the pullet’s carcass was the same one she used to keep herself upright.
    Jackie heard the yelps and let the iron burn its shape on a pillowcase in order to dash out of the house and rescue Bobby. Neither one returned to Lenore’s house.
    Without help or a supportive husband, Lenore was as alone as she had been after her first husband died, as she had been before marrying Salem. It was too late to curry friendship with neighboring women, who she had made sure knew their level and hers. Pleading with Jackie’s mother was humiliating as well as fruitless since the answer was “Sorry.” Now she had to be content with the company of the person she prized most of all—herself. Perhaps it was that partnership between Lenore and Lenore that caused the minor stroke she suffered on a sweltering night in July. Salem found her kneeling beside