The Back Building Read Free Page A

understood numbers and was good at adding and subtracting sums. I did most of my work in my head, but when I had to showcase it for credit I followed the teacher’s diagram on how to arrive at my answer. I enjoyed reading so long as the book wasn’t about romance or ideal women.
    I received glowing grades, but my teachers remarked that I had few, if any, friends in the class. They went on to suggest that perhaps my mother should arrange social engagements with my peers to help me get along better in the classroom. My mother did just that. She abhorred the notion her daughter could be socially awkward, especially when said daughter was so beautiful.
    In fact, my mother told herself that it was my physical beauty that kept the other girls, my peers, from being friendly towards me. She thought they were jealous. In reality, I was happier playing marbles with the boys at recess, and I was especially good at stick-ball. I didn’t care if I skinned my knees or got my dress dirty, so the boys let me play. I was even captain once or twice and selected our players systematically ensuring a winning team.
    The girls shunned me. They laughed when my hair was falling from its pony-tail, or strewn from a perfect braid after an enthusiastic game. My grass-stained knees created a stir and caused the girls to point and stare at me, then snicker as they stood huddled together in a circle, casting me out.
    I didn’t care one way or another. I had Hetty for a friend now and that’s all that mattered. She called for me after school on Tuesdays and Fridays and together we walked towards my home, the Mueller farm.
    On one such occasion I reached out and held fast to Hetty’s hand. It was plump and rough with calluses and caused a stir within me when I grasped it. She smiled deeply at me and we swung our hands in unison as we walked alongside the gravel road that led up to our fence. I hopped the fence and ran ahead of Hetty, not telling her my plan. I quickly set three traps in the woods that lined our property and would check them tomorrow. I had stashed a knife yesterday in the exact spot so if I caught anything I could skin it for Hetty. Then she could grab it for her journey home after work. With such a big family to feed, any meat was welcome.
    ***
    My traps lured two squirrels and another rabbit that I knew Hetty was particularly fond of in her stews. I would ask mother if we could spend time in the garden this afternoon, pulling up some root vegetables and be sure to give my friend enough for her supper.
    First, I had to kill and gut the squirrels, then the rabbit. Hetty came upon me then and she looked none too pleased.
    “Child, what in the hell are you thinking? You know you gonna be in trouble for this.” She shook her head at me as she spoke.
    “Hetty, these are for you, I just need to clean them real quick and you can get them on your way home for supper. I thought you’d be happy.”
    “Iona, I could always use extra meat at the table, but you gonna get yourself, and me, in trouble and I don’t want none of that. No sir.”
    Hetty walked away and ahead of me. I finished my job and marked the fence post nearest the catch with an ‘X’ using the chalk I stole from the classroom.
    Hetty acted peculiar all afternoon, shooing me away when I tried to help her work. I noticed the next morning however that the meat I offered was gone. I knew it was Hetty that took it too, because the ‘X’ was smeared and the dirt on the ground was smoothed over to mask the blood and guts.
    When I saw my friend on Friday I just smiled and ran ahead as usual. (Six hundred paces from the school doorway to my traps at the far end of our property.) Again, I had a good catch and set about gutting the animal’s entrails. I knew Hetty hated this gruesome work because she told me so when she was teaching me to cook.
    “Rinse and pat your meat, like this, Iona. Iona, pay attention to what I tell you. If it’s wet when you add it to the pan it is