Best Friend

Mary Margret was a southern bell. Her family was well off and she was beautiful and kind to everyone. Mary Margret had a privileged life and she was smart enough to understand this from a young age. Mary Margret didn't know her mother. Seemed like wherever she was she wasn't there long. She was always doing things, too busy to raise her own daughter. If Mary Margret were a zebra, she wouldn't be able to identify her mother in a dazzle of zebras. She honestly didn't see nearly enough of her mother to know her well enough at all. Seemed like she'd been placed in Bunny's arms since the day she was born.

Her father was the complete opposite. Maybe if he hadn't been born to money he would have been a harder worker but then again, they say opposites attract and he and his wife were as different as they come. Mary Margret wouldn't say her father raised her, no, nowhere near raising her. But at least he was around. Albeit she wasn't sure it was for her benefit or his own. He seemed more focused on Bunny then he was on her and Mary Margret didn't understand why.

If Bunny were a real bunny she would be the biggest and the blackest. But my, oh my, she was also the sweetest. Mary Margret understood that she couldn't love Bunny, Bunny was the help but she came pretty close and she didn't care who knew. Bunny was her entire world and she was grateful to have her. Mary Margret knew that Bunny had her own daughter. Bunny had to get her neighbor to raise her daughter while she was raising Mary Margret. She knew she wasn't that special, many families like hers had similar situations like this but she felt special anyway.

Mary Margret adored all the times Bunny would tell stories about her daughter. She felt like she knew so much about her that they were practically already best friends. She remembered that one time that Bunny had not come in for a week. Her mother hadn't even taken care of her then. Her father had to do it. He just stared at her like an idiot. Sometimes Mary Margret found it ridiculous that she was expected not to love Bunny who did everything humanly possible for her but was expected to adore her useless father. He had asked her a couple of questions about Bunny and her daughter. He wanted to know if Bunny's baby had a daddy.

"All babies have daddies, silly." She didn't know any more than that and he stopped asking her. That week had been brutal without Bunny and Mary Margret was so happy to see her come back and hear that her daughter's fever had passed that she had cried. The Spanish Flu had not yet become a known epidemic and Mary Margret didn't understand how serious the matter was. All she knew was that after that week her father had gotten so sick of being around her he stopped watching her or Bunny.

When she had gotten older, Mary Margret wanted to meet her. This beloved daughter of Bunny t hat she had never really met.

"Child, what you wanna meet her fo'? She's busy. Got that new job downtown at the Jacobson's' place. We start work real young, you know. I took this job here I was younger than you is now. I was real young but I worked real hard and I always kept my mouth shut. But it was worth it, raising you's been the highlight of my life." Bunny always started to tell Mary Margret about her vague past and somehow that would always distract Mary Margret.

This time Mary Margret was ready for the distraction and knew not to get sucked in. "I got her something, Bunny. I sure would appreciate it if you would let me give it to her myself?" The hesitation was small but Bunny could feel the tension.

"I ain't gon take you back to my place to meet my daughter child. That ain't ever gon happen. Please lets talk about som' else. How were dem exams y'all did this week, hm?" She was talking fast and Mary Margret could tell she was upset.

"Why can't I meet her?" Mary Margret couldn't hold back her tears. "Why Bunny? Don't she wanna meet me? All these years I been imagining her face, her chocolate skin, her kind words, and her dark hair. Ain't she wonder what I look like? Ain't we supposed to be best friends?" She cried harder now dropping to her knees, with her face in her hands.

"Lord have mercy on me. Child, she ain't ya best friend, you ain't ever gonna be friends. I am the help child. I ain't mean nothin' to ya and neither should my daughter." Bunny was crying now too. But she sat up straight as she continued to chop onions on the kitchen counter. "Get up off that floor now and set down proper."

Mary Margret got up slowly, wiping her tears on her yellow sundress. It was a pretty pastel yellow that went well with her soft blond hair; its bright fabric was emphasized by the navy blue darkness of Bunny's clothes. "She's been like the sister I never had." Mary Margret whispered roughly.

Bunny shoved her aside quickly as a whisky glass shattered behind where Mary Margret's head was only seconds before. The silence in the room was suddenly deafening and it was only broken by the heavy breathing Mary Margret's father brought as he stood there glaring at Bunny.

"After all these years..." He slurred. Mary Margret was incredulous at what her father had just done. He could have killed her. "That's what I get for trusting a nigger." He spit on the floor but had to grab the doorframe in order not to fall. Oh, she realized. Oh, He's drunk. Suddenly she was mad. Mary Margret was sick of her father's behavior. He had taken to drinking a lot in the past few years. Many of his friends had died from the Spanish flu and that had only made Mary Margret more grateful for Bunny and her daughter's luck at surviving it.

"Daddy! How dare you call her that!" Mary Margret got up to shove her father away from Bunny who as staring at the knife in her own hand. "What in the name of Jesus has come over you?" He snarled over her head, shoving her against the wall. "Ow! Ow! Daddy, stop! You're hurtin' me, daddy!" He looked down at her in disgust, his hand on her wrists above her and in that moment she wished for her mother.

"You knew all along, huh?" Mary Margret's eyebrows came together in confusion and her anger was completely replaced by fear. What didn't her father want her to know? "All this time I've been tiptoein' around ya, tryin' to see what she's told ya and you knew." His words were low and deep and filled her ears with a rumbling sound. "I've been played by a couple o' girls. That don't make me none too happy, ya hear." He sighed and let her arms go. As soon as she shrugged off the tension in her shoulders she screamed at the sudden impact against her face.

"Don you dare touch her again!" Bunny lunged across the kitchen at him, knife at the ready. He backed up slowly with his hands up. His right palm was red and Mary Margret shook as she touched her throbbing face and found blood.

"She ain't know nothin'! Her sister's secrets died with her when we buried her flu-infested body. But you know what? I didn't wanna raise no white rape bastard child anyway! I was so young when you took advantage o' me. Now you wanna punish this poor child? Ain't you hurt enough children?" She was screaming hoarsely now and her tears were two streams down her dark face.

Mary Margret felt her knees give out as her back hit the wall again. She slid down and placed her unhurt cheek onto her knees. Sister? Rape child? Her whole life was shattering right before her eyes. Was She dead? How could this be? Bunny had said she was better. There was no funeral for her. Didn't everyone who died get a funeral? She started to sob loudly. She had never even gotten to know her sister. Her best friend.

"What in the world has happened here?" He mother's shrill voice rang through the kitchen. Her father was passed out on the floor and Bunny was holding a knife over him. Mary Margret was sobbing against the wall with a blossoming black eye and a busted lip. Mary Margret was never so happy to see her mother's face in her whole life.