Sheriff ✔

Chapter 1

I wavered in front of the door with the ad clipping clutched in my hand. I had scrawled the address the man - Mr. William Davis - had indicated over the phone, and after triple-checking the house number, I knocked. My pulse pounded in my ears. The door opened and the man before me narrowed his eyes.

"What do you want, girl?" he barked.

I jumped slightly and held out the ad stupidly. "I-I'm Evalyn. We spoke on the phone not too long ago, sir." William, I presumed, ignored the ad in my hand and simply glared, before backing into his house to allow me to come in.

"Shoes."

What a charmer! Nevertheless, I hurriedly slipped off my shoes and nudged them to the side of the door, where his own collection was tossed haphazardly.

He tsked sharply. "The other side of the door, girl. Do you have any sense? Don't put your shoes near mine."

The heat rose to my face, and I thanked God for my complexion. Without a word, I moved my shoes over. The gruff man then began the tour of his compact, two-story home. Amongst the piles of papers, clothes, and dishes laying here and there, there was a musty odor that gave way to the smell of mildew in the kitchen and bathrooms. William didn't appear embarrassed by the state of his house, however, making no apology as he rattled off his expectations.

Bathrooms cleaned at least weekly.

I need my office organized.

You bring your own eating utensils and keep them here. Don't put your mouth on anything of mine.

You'll be getting $1.25 an hour.

At this point, I coughed to interject. "The ad lists $1.50 an hour...sir," I hastily amended. I wasn't used to the mannerisms of the southern Negro at this point. Gram had been very sure to remind me of the importance of my "sir's", "ma'am's" and downcast eyes.

William's eyes narrowed again. "And?"

I sighed inwardly. What a backwards part of the country I was in. I knew there was no use protesting.

"You also mention 'other domestic tasks'. What do those entail?"

"During the week, dinner in the evening and a bath drawn for me thereafter. After that you can leave. On the weekends, breakfast and any tidying up you need to do."

This man needed a wife, not house help.

"And groceries? The nearest store I can go to is a ways off." And there was absolutely no way I was going to be walking for miles to get this man's groceries.

William let out an irritated sigh. "You can write up a list and give it to me."

We stood in silence, William running his eyes up and down my frame, lips curled in disgust. I didn't know what to do but look away and try to make a graceful exit.

"Well, I best be going. Thank you Mr. Dav -." I was silenced as William reached around me and forcefully pushed shut the front door that I had begun opening.

"Where do you think you're going, girl? The day is still young, and my house is still a mess." My deep brown met his glinting grey and then looked to the floor. I was glad that he'd be gone for work most of the day during the week when I came to tend to his house.

Softly, "Yes sir."

Satisfied, he backed up and let me slip past him into the living room. I spent the rest of that Saturday cleaning his house. Apart from the one time Mr. Davis left to purchase some cleaning items and groceries that I had meekly requested, he remained at home. He moved with me from room to room, watching silently with critical eyes as I righted weeks' worth of mess.

Folding and smoothing the covers on his bed, flicking away a few strands of his deep golden hair that reposed on his pillow, I paused. I shifted from foot to foot for a moment and turned around, gathering my resolve. "Which bathroom would you like me to use?"

Silence.

I could see his internal debate, and I dreaded the thought that he would respond with "neither".

"The downstairs one, if you must." I breezed past him, trying not to appear in a rush.

~~~

I kicked off my shoes with a sigh. My stomach protested loudly as I followed my nose to the kitchen.

"Gram, I'm home!"

After relieving myself at Mr. Davis' house, I had cooked something quick for him and left. He hadn't said a word, just remained hunched over his food as I made my exit and proceeded with my hour-long walk back to Gram's.

"Baby, I already ate 'cause you was taking too long, but get you some before I put it away."

I prayed hastily as I piled the food on my plate. I tucked in, relishing the first bite. Gram watched, bemused, as I attacked the meal.

"How was it, honey?"

I rolled my eyes. "He is so rude. It's so different down here. Can you believe he reduced the amount he'll be paying me - just like that?" Gram laughed.

I was pleasantly surprised to see Gram out of bed and in such good spirits. Her health was in a bad place, and her weight and joints made moving around hard. But I surely was not complaining, because this dinner was satisfying everything within me.

With a sigh, I sat back in the chair. "That was marvelous. I see where Ma got her cooking skills from." I let the last sentence roll off my tongue before I could catch it. Gram grunted brusquely and picked up my polished plate. Despite my protests, she cleared up dinner and began washing the dishes. Making myself useful, I began deep cleaning the bathroom. I had only been living down south with Gram for a week, but had made some headway on her house. I was tackling the grime, but the areas of disrepair were largely beyond my skill. Busted roof, messed up front stairs, peeling outdoor paint - the list was too long for me to think about. But at least I could make it more comfortable and presentable on the inside.

When the darkness of night had descended, I ceased my work and helped Gram onto the porch. She settled into the wide rocking chair with a satisfied sigh. I sat next to her and we hummed contentedly in the evening air together. Though the white folk were decidedly a mess down here, and Gram's house wasn't particularly pleasant yet, I was enjoying my time in the slower-paced little town. I just prayed things would go ok with Mr. Davis.