We got on the road early the next morning because Mace had to get to work. The girls and their grandmother slept in the back seat, their heads resting on each other’s shoulders. Mace stared straight ahead out the window. I did not know what to say, so I kept my mouth shut. He was quiet for so long that I figured he had nodded off. I concentrated on driving. When he spoke, the soft sound of his voice startled me.
“Maybe if my girls could read good, they could do better than me.”
I had never heard him mention their schooling before. I’d always assumed he believed school was misplaced energy, something with limited use for poor folks in Alabama.
“You know, it’s not your fault, Mace. You doing everything you can for your family.”
“That right?” He turned his head toward me, but I kept my eyes on the road. I couldn’t look at him.
“Yes.”
“Well sometimes everything you can ain’t good enough, is it.” He paused and we turned to each other at the same time. The passing headlights of a truck illuminated his face. “Is it, Miss Civil?”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Our appointment was at 8 a.m., but India was dressed long before we needed to leave. After lounging at home for two months, she was ready to get out. I was also excited about taking her to visit her new school. When we arrived, the nun met us in the front lobby and introduced herself as Sister LaTarsha. I could not believe my eyes. The sister was a sister. Her hair was hidden beneath her habit, but her clothes were unfussy—elastic-waisted jeans and a simple pink top, clean skin covered in a veneer of sweat.
“Don’t look so happy to see me, Miss Townsend.”
“I’m sorry. I just thought—”
“You aren’t the first. Black nuns do exist. Come on. I’ll show you around.”
The school was located in the basement of St. Jude hospital. Four classrooms and offices for the staff. There was no gym, though they did have an outdoor play yard. She explained there was no cafeteria. The children ate in their classrooms.
“There are fifty-five students here with various needs,” Sister LaTarsha told me and India as we stepped inside one of the classrooms. The students had not arrived yet. I noticed there were no individual desks—only tables. A round rug featured an image of a rainbow. A wall with low bookshelves contained baskets of toys. A reading area with cardboard books.
“We don’t separate our students in the same way as standard schools. We separate them according to a range of factors—temperament, ability, developmental goals. Our aim,” she said, “is to train them well enough to be functional adults.”
“What does that mean exactly?”
“Well, it means different things for different children. Some need help with fine motor skills. Others need speech therapy. It might even be something straightforward like learning how to share a toy or brush their teeth or hold a fork.”
“You say they have different needs?”
“Some of our students have significant physical disabilities in addition to cognitive concerns. One of our jobs is to figure out where we can help them. Most schools write these kids off as soon as they see them. Others just sit with them all day, not teaching them anything. Even some of the teenagers come here with very few skills. But you’d be surprised, Miss Townsend. We have discovered that some of our kids are smarter than the kids without challenges.”
“That’s really something.” I was liking her already. She appeared older than I was but younger than my mother. Her face was placid, and she smiled with her eyes.
Sister LaTarsha turned to India and said in a soft tone, “We are excited you’re here, India.” She pointed to the chairs around a table. “Please have a seat.” She picked up a wooden puzzle. It contained three round pegs in different colors. She asked India to place the pegs in the correctly colored holes. India placed the pegs in the holes, but the colors were all wrong. Sister LaTarsha praised her for inserting the pegs without any trouble. India clapped her hands. Then Sister LaTarsha explained that each peg needed to match the space on the board. She did it for India, matching red with red, blue with blue, and yellow with yellow. India watched intently. The second time, she still mismatched the pegs.
“Let’s try again,” said the sister.
They must have gone through the exercise six or seven times. Finally, India got it.
“Excellent, India!” I was unable to contain myself.
Sister LaTarsha put the puzzle away. She took India’s hand and walked her over to an area where large foam building blocks lay scattered on the floor. The sister stacked them. “See? You build whatever you want with these blocks.”
India balanced the blocks as high as she could and knocked them over. She lined them up and tried to walk on them, losing her balance. It crossed my mind that she had never had good toys like these to play with.
“You’re so patient,” I said as Sister LaTarsha came back and sat across from me.
“She wants to please you.”
“Me? How can you tell?”
“I’ve been doing this for fourteen years,” she said. “I see how she looks at you. I hope I can gain her trust the way you have.”
I tried to suppress my emotions and looked away. The girls had trusted me, and that haunted me. “How long do the students stay at this school?”
“Why do you ask? Are you thinking this is a temporary solution for India?”
“No, the opposite. I want stability in her life.” I had read that the mission received a mix of funds. I couldn’t help but worry that those beneficent individuals controlled the school. What if they read about the case and knew India was enrolled? People could be weird about their good deeds and the conditions placed upon them. I couldn’t bear the thought of India’s disappointment again.
“It really depends on the child.” She opened India’s folder. “I see that her test had a pretty good result.”
“Sometimes I say things and she knows exactly what I’m saying. I’m sure of it.” I wanted to see where Sister LaTarsha stood when it came to India. I was ready to knock folks down in the same way India was over there handling those foam blocks.
She closed the folder and pushed it aside. “One issue we’ve had with students in the past is truancy. If she doesn’t come regularly, she will lose her spot in the school. I know that you are not her legal guardian, so her family will have to come into the school to sign the documents in person.”
She had not said anything about the scandal, but everybody in town had heard about it. At least, I figured as much. I didn’t know enough about the St. Jude nuns to know how much they concerned themselves with current events. “It’s just their daddy and grandmother. And the two of them aren’t literate. So if you don’t mind, I’ll be here to read and explain those documents to them.” India would need to ride the bus alone sometimes. I worried a little about that.
Sister LaTarsha looked straight at me. “This school has been here for twenty-six years, Miss Townsend. I’ve been here fourteen. We’ve seen it all. You should know that.”
I tried to relax. My chest was so tight. New worries surfaced. How would India do around the other kids? She had not been to school in years. The only real playmate she’d had was her sister.