Cutler 01 - Dawn

heat rise in my neck. How could she make me her personal maid? I wanted to chase after her and pull out her hair, but I gazed toward the hideaway and thought about poor Jimmy. All I would do is create a commotion and drive him away. Frustrated and fuming, I plodded on to help the others clean up the coffee shop.
    Clara Sue hadn’t exaggerated. It was a mess with ketchup and french fries, milk and mustard, ice cream and soda all splattered on the walls and tables. I had seen a food fight at a cafeteria in one of the schools Jimmy and I attended, but it didn’t seem as bad a mess as this. Of course, I didn’t have to clean the school mess up, but now I could feel sorry for the custodial staff.
    “It’s some of the spoiled rich kids who come here,” Sissy muttered as soon as I arrived and began washing one of the tables. There were pieces of food everywhere. I had to step around puddles of milk and ketchup splashed on the floor. “They thought it was funny, even after it was all over and there was this mess. They run off through the hotel laughing and giggling. Mrs. Cutler was fit to be tied. She says the younger families ain’t what the older ones used to be. The older ones are more classy and wouldn’t have children this bad. That’s what she told us.”
    Grandmother appeared in the doorway shortly afterward and watched us work. When we were finished, she and Mr. Stanley inspected the coffee shop to be sure it had been restored properly. I thought I would go up and do Clara Sue's room right away, but Mr. Stanley told Sissy and me to go right to the laundry and help wash and dry linens. That took more than two hours. I worked as hard and as fast as I could, realizing Jimmy was all alone, shut up in the hideaway, waiting for my return. I was afraid he might leave before I arrived.
    As soon as we finished in the laundry, I started out to visit him, but Clara Sue caught me going down the corridor toward the exit. She had come looking for me.
    "You've got to go right to my room," she demanded urgently. "Grandmother is coming up later this afternoon to see how I fixed it up."
    "Well, why can't you do it?"
    "I have to entertain the children of some important guests. Besides, you're better at cleaning up. Just do it. Unless you don't want me to help you and Jimmy," she said, smiling.
    "Jimmy needs something for lunch!" I cried. "I won't leave him without food all day."
    "Don't worry. I'll see that he gets it," she said.
    "You have to be careful no one sees you sneak food to him," I warned.
    "I think I'm better at being careful than you are, Eugenia," she commented and walked off laughing.
    Grandmother Cutler was right about one thing—Clara Sue was a slob. Her clothing was scattered all about—panties and bras draped over chairs, shoes under the bed and in front of the closet instead of inside it, skirts and blouses on the floor, blouses hanging on the headboard and on the back of the vanity table chair. And the vanity table! Makeup and creams were left open. There were streaks of cream and powder over the table. Even the mirror was spotted.
    Her bed was unmade and covered with fashion and fan magazines. I found an earring under the bedspread and searched everywhere in vain for its mate. She had her jewelry strewn about, some of it on her desk, some on her vanity and some on top of her dresser.
    All the dresser drawers were open and some had panties and stockings leaking out. When I started putting things into the drawers, I saw they were all mixed up―stockings with panties, T-shirts with stockings. I shook my head. There was so much to do. No wonder Grandmother Cutler was angry.
    And when I opened the closet door! Clothing hadn’t been properly hung, so skirts and pants, blouses and jackets were half on and half off the hangers, some of the clothing fallen to the floor in heaps. Clara Sue had no respect for her possessions. I thought. It all came too easily.
    It took me more than two more hours to do up her room, but when I finished, it was clean, organized and spotless. I was exhausted, but I headed out quickly and snuck around the back of the hotel to see Jimmy.
    When I entered the hideaway, however, he wasn’t there. The bathroom door was open, so I could see he wasn’t in it. He had gotten disgusted waiting for me. I flopped down on the bunk bed. Jimmy was gone; perhaps I would never see him or hear from him again. I couldn’t keep the tears from rushing out―all my frustrations, fatigue, and