Place Called Estherville Read Free

He tried to recall how long it had been since he had stood on his head, and at the same time he was hoping he would be able to do it.
    “I said, stand on your head, Ganus Bazemore!” she told him imperiously. “Didn’t you hear me?”
    He nodded and went to the center of the kitchen and lowered his hands to the floor. He did not look directly at Stephena, but he could watch her red satin slippers swinging under the table. He placed his head on the floor between his outspread hands and hurled his legs upward toward the ceiling. At first he almost lost his balance, but after frantically kicking his feet several times he was surprised to find how easy it was for him to stay on his head. He did not know how much time had passed when he felt himself becoming dizzy. He waited, hoping Stephena would hurry and tell him that he could put his feet down, and when she jumped off the table and walked past him to the door, he felt himself losing his balance and he hastily lowered his feet to the floor. He crouched on his knees until the dizzy sensation went away, and then, feeling proud of what he had accomplished, he slowly stood upright. It was then that Stephena ran to him and slapped his face as hard as she could.
    “That’s for not asking me if you could stop, Ganus Bazemore,” she told him crossly. “Maybe next time you’ll know better.”
    He stumbled backward beyond her reach to prevent her from slapping him again, and stood there with an uncertain smile on his face while he rubbed his stinging cheek. She had never slapped him so hard before, and the tears were beginning to blur his vision. He blinked his eyes helplessly.
    Stephena went to the table, snatched up the comic section of the Sunday paper, and walked out of the kitchen.
    “Bring my breakfast right away,” she called back to him.
    Ganus nodded, even though she had already passed out of sight, and went to the table and picked up the bowl of eggs. He looked in the direction she had gone until he could no longer hear the sound of her footsteps.
    He could still feel the painful sting of her hand on his face as he sliced the tomatoes and he rubbed his burning cheek against the cool white cloth of his sleeve. For the first time he felt resentful, although the resentment lasted only as long as the pain itself; but during that time he wanted to leave and find a job where he would not be treated like this. As soon as the pain went away, though, he was sorry he had even thought of leaving the Singfields. He wanted to stay where Stephena was.
    When the eggs and toast were ready, he carefully arranged the silverware and china on the tray and went through the house and up the stairway to the second floor. As he walked down the carpeted hall toward Stephena’s room, he made up his mind to work harder than ever before so the Singfields would let him stay there all his life. However, when he saw the door before him, he felt a familiar twinge rising in his throat. He wanted to go into the room where she was, but now he realized more than ever before how easily she could get him into trouble. While he stood at the door delaying as long as he could the moment when he would have to enter, he made up his mind not to let anything keep him from leaving the room as quickly as possible. He knocked, opened the door, and went in. He could feel his hands beginning to shake when he started across the room.
    Carefully averting his eyes, he walked toward the small bedside table and because of that he almost dropped the breakfast tray; she had thrown the yellow silk pajamas on the floor, and it was then that he almost dropped the tray in jumping aside in time to keep from stepping on them. With dishes rattling noisily, he managed to place the tray on the table before anything was spilled. He could hear Stephena’s giggling laughter while he uncovered the dish of scrambled eggs and tomatoes and poured coffee with trembling hands. Then as quickly as possible, still not having looked at her in