«The Help / Прислуга» adlı sesli kitaptan alıntılar, sayfa 2

there she be, red-hot and hollering with the colic, fighting that bottle like it’s a rotten turnip. Miss

some ham, make a little gravy for my biscuit

but he was slow bout things like that.

Mae Mobley was born on a early Sunday morning in August, 1960. A church baby we like to call it. Taking care a white babies, that’s what I do, along with all the cooking and the cleaning. I done raised seventeen kids in my lifetime. I know how to get them babies to sleep, stop crying, and go in the toilet bowl before they mamas even get out a bed in the morning.

By the time I found out, he was dead.

They ain’t rich folk, that I know. Rich folk don’t try so hard.

Maybe she trying to make up for her house being small.

urteen-year-old boy. Even her hair is thin, brown, see-through. She try to tease it up, but it only make it look thinner. Her face be the same shape as that red devil on the redhot candy box, pointy chin and all. Fact, her whole body be so full a sharp knobs and corners, it’s no wonder she can’t soothe that baby. Babies like fat. Like to bury they face up in you armpit and go to sleep. They like big fat legs too. That I know.

crying, and go in the toilet bowl before they mamas even get out a bed in the morning. But I ain’t never seen a baby yell like Mae Mobley Leefolt. First day I walk in the door, there she be, red-hot and hollering with the colic, fighting that bottle like it’s a

Five months after the funeral, I lifted myself up out a bed.