Perhaps I can even make her believe I understand why they are doing this.
Salvation. God’s will.
Olivia shook her head. How could Iola believe that? Because she’s crazy.
Because she believes it. But what does she believe? What does she think they are
doing? She must want Filmore to get me pregnant with a child for Jesus, butthen what? Does she think they can hold me prisoner for nine months? Then
what? Kill me, after she’s got her hands on the poor baby?
Olivia heard someone coming and froze. The door rattled open and Olivia
watched silently as Iola came in with a tray and set it next to her on the bed. To
Olivia’s great shame the smell of the food made her realize how hungry she was.
Iola had brought two pieces of fried chicken, a heap of fried potatoes, string beans, a biscuit thick with butter, and a slice of apple pie. What kind of poison
did you put in that, you witch, Olivia wanted to scream; but she sat stiffly and nodded at the food.
“That smells goods,” she said, straining to keep her voice neutral. But she
couldn’t help saying, “You didn’t add any of whatever you put in the tea, did you?”
“That was for your own good,” Iola said, shaking her head. “Ease the way.
No need for it now. But any time you’d like more of my tea, or even some whiskey, you’ve only to ask. No shame in requesting a little help when you’re doing the Lord’s work.”
Olivia imagined Iola slowly sinking into a cesspool of diarrhea, the filth
filling her mouth and nostrils. Iola had left the door open and Olivia could see the shadow that Filmore cast as Iola rose to leave.
“No,” Olivia said and forced herself to continue. “Please. Stay while I eat. I
want to try to understand.”
Iola pulled up a chair. She put a hand to Olivia’s forehead before she sat down. “You’re looking a little peeked,” she said. “Good meal will do for you.
You got to keep your strength up.”
“There’s only a spoon,” Olivia said as she moved the plate aside.
“I know. Did you expect me to bring you a knife?”
Olivia took a few hesitant nibbles before she began to eat hungrily. Iola
nodded, smiled, and said, “There’s a good girl.” Olivia hadn’t eaten since
yesterday and she certainly did need to keep her strength up. There was no
napkin and when Olivia finished she wiped her hands on her skirt.
“I can get you some tea,” Iola said. “Just regular tea and sugar.”
“No. Not right now.” Olivia’s voice was low and dull. “But I would like you
to tell me why. Why in God’s name are you doing this?”
“Why? Because that’s exactly what it is. In God’s name. Who do you think
brought you to us?” Iola leaned forward eagerly. “Do you really believe it was
chance that delivered a wanton, Godless girl like you into our hands? If ever a
couple was deserving of a child to raise, with a true Christian education, it’s me
and Filmore. Why, you’re not fit to be a mother. You know that. Said right out
you don’t want to have any children. Shame on you. So Jesus sent you to us, to
bear Filmore’s child. My child.”
“But you can’t expect … What do you think, that I’m just going to agree to have a baby for you?” Olivia strained to keep her voice level, as if this were a
normal conversation, two neighbor ladies discussing a mutual interest.
“Well, of course not. We knew it would take you some time to see your way
