Last Night at the Blue Angel by Rebecca Rotert Page A

while I waited for her. When he started up the hill I realized it was Sister Idalia. She was wearing men’s wool trousers, cinched at the waist with some rope, a flannel checked barn jacket, and was without her coif.
    I couldn’t speak. Your hair .
    Oh , I didn’t expect to be seen by anyone .
    I threw my arms around her.
    She pulled apart and looked at me. What is it , peanut?
    I don’t know what to do .
    Then let’s walk . We went down the hill to the creek. There was no haze, no dust in the sky, just fast, bulbous clouds. It was one of those days that is ninety-eight percent sky and two percent everything else under the sun.
    We sat down by the water.
    I’m someone else , I said.
    Sister looked at the creek. She will sit here like this with me until the end of time, I thought.
    It’s Laura , I finally said.
    Sister nodded like she already knew the whole story.
    I love her , I whispered.
    I know . She squinted at the creek.
    I kissed her , I said, because I didn’t think she understood.
    Sister looked at me, smiled. Oh , peanut .
    I know God is going to strike me down. I can feel it. Right here , I said, grabbing my stomach.
    Oh, no , no , no , she said. This is what God is. Love. See?
    I shook my head. I don’t know what to do .
    I don’t either , said Sister.
    Haven’t you ever been in love? I asked.
    Sister looked at me for a long time. Once .
    What happened?
    They separated us. Sent me here .
    We looked at the river, listened to its movement.
    I have to be with her , I said.
    I know , she said, squeezing tears from her eyes with her thumb and middle finger. Isn’t it terrible?
    Yes , I said.
    She pressed her hands into my cheeks. I want to tell you to be careful but . . . It’s what we say about love. Be careful. And it’s , well , erroneous .
    I don’t know that word .
    It’s wrong. Be bold instead. Love her . She had tears again. Okay?
    Okay , I said.
    Just then we heard, Sister Idalia! Sister! Laura was shouting up by the schoolhouse. Sisterrrr!
    Sister pulled the string and key from around her neck and put it over mine.
    Maybe Laura would like Dinah Washington , she said, looking at the creek. I’m going to finish cutting that tree up. It will take me the better part of the afternoon , I expect .
    Laura called my name up on the hill. Creek water rushed around the larger stones. There was not enough time to think. I got on my knees and hugged Sister hard. Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you .
    I n the still, quiet air of Sister’s room, I got to look at Laura the way I wanted. It made her shy.
    How’d you know I’d come here? I asked.
    You’re always out here. You and Sister I are . . . friends , right?
    I shrugged and looked around Sister’s room until I felt infinitely guilty for shrugging. Yes , we are friends .
    Like we are? asked Laura, fiddling with a pleat against my hip because she could, because we were alone and the dress was hers, after all.
    No , I said.
    Will you kiss me again? asked Laura.
    I held her face and kissed her mouth and her chin. She looked at me like she was working out a math problem.
    I have to get back , she said.
    Okay , I said, believing the answer to her math problem was to leave.
    I want to be alone with you , she said.
    We are alone .
    I want time , she said, looking at me again.
    Then we’ll get time , I told her, trying not to smile.

CHAPTER 13
    O N MONDAY, I ironed the lavender dress and set my hair. I stuffed a bit of tissue paper into the toes of Mama’s Sunday shoes and walked to town, into Miller’s Bank and Trust, into Mr. Miller’s big, carpeted office.
    Mr. Miller said hello, how are you, how’s the family, etc. And, Now, how many of you are there?
    Seven , sir .
    He leaned forward. Is that a Polish imperative?
    He gave me a simple math test, looked it over, and threw it away. Mostly , Miss Hutnik , I just need you to be pleasant and attractive and