But Mama wasn't on the porch. I hurried on into the front room. There she was, leaning against the wall, talking on the phone. She just reached down, patted my head, and kept on talking to Aunt Vic. She didn't even notice Sookie Sue.

I crawled up into a rocking chair to wait.

I wished I could talk on the phone-about cotton crops, or peaches, or just anything. It wouldn't do a speck of good though to ask Mama to let me try it. She'd only say I was too little.

But I knew exactly how to turn the crank on the side of the phone and how to hold the ear piece.

And I could remember every ring on the line. Ours was two longs and a short. Aunt Vic's was two longs. Aunt Lovie's was a short and a long. And if I was going to call up Papa's store, I'd just give the phone's crank one long twist.

I didn't dare ask Mama if I could talk. She'd tell me all that business about telephones being for important matters and that when anybody called us, some grownup person should answer-not me, or Wiley, or even Mierd, who was already going on twelve years old. Then she'd say all over again that when I heard the phone ring two longs and a short, I was to get her or my big sister Bess or one of my big brothers-that is, when they were at home.

They weren't ever home any more-neither Bess nor my brothers.

Bess was boarding in town so she could go to high school. And Clyde and Walker were still off in that army camp, wherever it was, and Dorris was down at the Caledonia Academy. I didn't know for sure where Caledonia was, but it wasn't far away, or terrible, like being in a camp for the World War.

n.o.body was home any more, except me and Mierd and Wiley and Mama and Papa. Grandpa Thad and Grandma Ming were nearly there because their house was just the other side of the dying Chinaberry tree.

Finally, Mama hung up the phone, turned around, and stooped over so I could hug her neck and she could hug mine.

"You have a Dolly Dimple!"

"She's Sookie Sue!"

"Just let me look at her!"

"Grandma saved that flour-sack doll pattern just for me."

"She's fine as silk!" Mama held my homemade doll out at arm's length, looking first at her purple dress and the freckle dots on her face, and then at her long, soft legs. Sookie's legs were turned up at the ends and made black so she'd look like she had on Sunday shoes.

"Bandershanks, this is the kind of girl you want to be: one who wears her smile all day long!" She handed Sookie Sue back to me.

Mama stood up straight again and started toward the kitchen.

I followed her.

"Me and you've got lots to do today, Bandershanks."

"What?"

"First thing is to finish working up the light-bread dough, else it won't have time to rise once, much less twice."

"Mama, can I shake the sifter?"

"Sure. Soon as I dip the flour outta the barrel. Hon, you better lay your doll on the bed, or you'll get her all mussed up."

I had hardly put Sookie to sleep and crawled up on the end of Mama's cook table when the phone started ringing-two longs and a short.

"Mama, it's our ring! Lem'me answer it! Lem'me, Mama!

Please!"

"All right. Hurry. I'll be in there soon as I wash this sticky dough off my fingers. I can't imagine who-"

I couldn't wait for Mama to finish whatever she'd started to say. I dropped the sifter, jumped off the table, and streaked up the hall toward the front room. The phone kept ringing.

As soon as I could push a chair over to the wall I climbed on it and started jerking at the cord on the ear piece. That stopped the ringing. Then, by standing on tiptoe, I managed to yank the hearing thing all the way off its hook.

"h.e.l.lo!" I hollered up into the mouth cup.

"h.e.l.lo? h.e.l.lo? Who's this?"

"It's me!"

"Who?"

"Me! I mean-"

"Call your ma to the phone, honey. This is Mister Hawk Lumpkin. I gotta tell her somethin'."

Grandpa had said lots of times that Mister Hawk couldn't hear it thunder.

"Here's my mama," I screeched.

I handed Mama the ear thing, but she didn't put it against her head. Mister Hawk was yelling so loud she didn't even have to hold it close.

"h.e.l.lo! Mister Hawk? This is Nannie."

"Nannie? Say, Nannie, send one of your young'uns out to Thad's house and tell him if he wants to see a automobile to get down to the road. One just pa.s.sed, headed that way! Tell Thad he'll have to make haste 'cause that fellow must be hittin'

twenty or twenty-five miles a hour!"

"Yes, sir, Mister Hawk, I'll tell Pa."

He must have hung up, for Mama stopped talking.

"Run out to Grandpa's and tell him Mister Hawk called and said-"

"I heard him, Mama. I'm going."

"Don't you make a lotta racket and bother Grandma Ming. I'll go call Wiley."

I didn't want to use the front doorsteps; it was easier to run to the end of the porch and jump off. Besides, that put me right at the gate between our yard and Grandpa's yard. In a second I was on his porch and standing right by his rocking chair.

Grandpa was sitting in the hot sunshine, his hat tilted down over his eyes and his Gazette spread out across his knees. I could hear him snoring, loud.

I eased up closer to his rocker and tapped him on the hand.

"Grandpa?"

He didn't hear me.

"Grandpa?"

"Huh? What? Oh, it's you, Bandershanks." He pushed back his hat brim and moved the newspaper. "How's my girl?"