The Help / Прислуга. Книга для чтения на английском языке

“Aibileen? My Aibileen?” “I sure don’t know the answers to these questions.”

“Well… I mean, as long as it doesn’t interfere with her work.”

I pause, surprised by this attitude. But I remind myself that Elizabeth is paying her, after all.

“And not today with Mae Mobley about to get up or else I’ll have to look after her myself.”

“Okay. Maybe… maybe I’ll come by tomorrow morning then?” I count the hours on my hand. If I finish talking to Aibileen by midmorning, I’ll have time to rush home to type it up, then get it back to town by two.

Elizabeth frowns down at her spool of green thread. “And only for a few minutes. Tomorrow’s silver-polishing day.”

“It won’t be long, I promise,” I say.

Elizabeth is starting to sound just like my mother.

* * *

The next morning at ten, Elizabeth opens her door, nods at me like a schoolteacher. “Alright. Go on in. And not too long now. Mae Mobley’ll be waking up any time.”

I walk into the kitchen, my notebook and papers under my arm.

Aibileen smiles at me from the sink, her gold tooth shining. She’s a little plump in the middle, but it is a friendly softness. And she’s much shorter than me, because who isn’t? Her skin is dark-brown and shiny against her starchy white uniform. Her eyebrows are gray even though her hair is black.

“Hey, Miss Skeeter. Miss Leefolt still at the machine?”

“Yes.” It’s strange, even after all these months home, to hear Elizabeth being called Miss Leefolt – not Miss Elizabeth or even her maiden name, Miss Fredericks.

“May I?” I point to the refrigerator. But before I can help myself, Aibileen’s opened it for me.

“What you want? A Co-Cola?”

I nod and she pops the cap off with the opener mounted on the counter, pours it into a glass.

“Aibileen” – I take a deep breath – “I was wondering if I could get your help on something.” I tell her about the column then, grateful when she nods that she knows who Miss Myrna is.

“So maybe I could read you some of the letters and you could… help me with the answers. After a while, maybe I’ll catch on and…” I stop. There is no way I’ll ever be able to answer cleaning questions myself. Honestly, I have no intention of learning how to clean. “It sounds unfair, doesn’t it, me taking your answers and acting like they’re mine. Or Myrna’s, I mean.” I sigh.

Aibileen shakes her head. “I don’t mind that.