I lowered my head like a flag of defeat as Mamma, behaving as if nothing unusual had happened to me, began to tell me some of the tidbits of gossip she and her guests had been feeding on all afternoon. Her words went in one ear and out the other, but she didn't seem to notice or care. I dropped my face to the pillow and drew the blanket up around me again. Mamma's voice droned on until she ran out of stories and then she left to find some of her scarves for me.
I took a deep breath and turned over in bed. I couldn't help but wonder if Mamma would have felt more sympathy and anger over what had happened if she were really my mother instead of my aunt. Suddenly, for the first time, I truly felt like an orphan. I felt worse even than I had the first time I learned the truth. My body shook with new sobs until I was too tired to cry. Then, remembering poor Eugenia, who I was sure had gotten only bits and pieces from Louella and Tottie, I rose like a somnambulist and put on my bathrobe, all my actions mechanical. I avoided looking at myself each time I passed the mirrors. I slipped my feet into my small, ribbon-laced slippers, and walked slowly out of my room and down to Eugenia's.
The moment I entered and she saw me, she started to cry. I rushed into her arms which folded around me with a birdlike fragility and cried on her little shoulder for a few moments before pulling back to relate all the horrid events to her. She listened, wide-eyed, shaking her head to wipe away the details. But she was forced to accept them every time she looked at my cropped off hair.
"I'm not going to school," I vowed. "I'm not going anywhere until my hair grows back."
"Oh, but Lillian, that could be a long time. You can't miss all that work."
"I'll die as soon as the other kids look at me, Eugenia." I shifted my eyes to the blanket. "Especially Niles."
"You'll do what Mamma said. You'll wear scarves and a bonnet."
"They'll laugh at me. Emily will se
e to that," I declared. Eugenia's face saddened. She seemed to shrink with every passing moment of sadness. I felt terrible because I wasn't able to cheer her up or make the sorrow go away. No amount of laughter, no jokes, no distractions could cover up the agony or make me forget what had been done to me.
There was a knock on the door and we turned to see Henry.
"Hello, Miss Lillian, Miss Eugenia. I just come by to tell you . . . well, to tell you your wheelchair's going to need a day or so of airing out, Miss Eugenia. I washed it down best I could and I'll bring it back as soon as it's free of that odor."
"Thank you, Henry," Eugenia said.
"Damned if I know how it got into the toolshed," Henry said.
"We know how, Henry," I told him. He nodded. "I found one of my rabbit traps nearby," he said.
He shook his head. "Mean thing to do. Mean thing," he muttered, and left.
"Where are you going?" Eugenia asked when I rose from the bed, tired and listless.
"Back upstairs, to sleep. I'm exhausted."
"Will you come back after dinner?"
"I'll try," I said. I hated myself this way, hated feeling sorry for myself, especially in front of Eugenia who had more reason to feel sorry for herself than anyone I knew, but my hair had been so beautiful. Its length and texture, its softness and its rich color had made me feel older and more feminine. I knew how boys gazed at me. Now, no one would look at me except to laugh at the little idiot who got herself sprayed by a skunk.
Late in the afternoon, Tottie came by to tell me Niles had come to the front door to ask after Eugenia and me.
"Oh, Tottie, did you tell him what happened? You didn't, did you?" I cried.
Tottie shrugged.
"I didn't know what else to tell him, Miss Lillian."
"What did you say? What did you tell him?" I demanded quickly.
"I just told him you got sprayed by a skunk in the toolshed and you had to cut your hair off."
"Oh no."
"He's still downstairs," Tottie said. "Mrs. Booth's talking to him."
"Oh no," I moaned again, and fell back on the bed. I was so embarrassed, I didn't think I could ever let him look at me again.
"Mrs. Booth, she says you should come down and say hello to your gentleman caller."
"Come down! Never. I'm not leaving this room. I'm not and tell her it's Emily's fault."