Skinny Matilda's Arc

Chapter 8 of 8

Sunday was three days off. Matilda had one bowl. She stood at the sink Thursday morning and pictured Mr. Grumpypants sitting at her table with soup steaming in front of him and nothing in front of her but the empty place mat. Or worse, a cereal bowl beside his good one. She had crossed too many small bridges to trip on a bowl. She put on the pink robe and walked back to the church shop. The kitchen shelf held one blue plate and a coffee mug with a chip. No bowls. The woman at the counter looked up from her buttons. "Try the attic place two roads over. Old woman clearing her mother's house. She's got dishes stacked to the ceiling." Matilda found the cottage by the sign above the porch. The roof pitched steep. Flower pots sat on the rail. The door stood open. Inside smelled like cedar and dust. Boxes lined the front room. A hand-drawn card said DISHES, BACK ROOM, MAKE OFFER. She went in. Six white bowls sat stacked on a card table. Plain. Heavy. A small chip on one rim. A slip of paper beside them read FIVE DOLLARS THE SET. She counted the ones in her pocket. Four and some quarters. She counted again. Same answer. Her chest tightened the old way. She heard the laugh from the peach stand for one second and then it faded. She set the four dollars on the table and stacked two quarters on top. She wrote on the back of the price slip: This is what I have. I need them for Sunday. Matilda, pink house. She left it there and carried the bowls out in both arms. At home she washed them one by one. She dried them with a clean towel and stacked them on the shelf above the stove. Six matching bowls. The chip faced the wall. Sunday at six she ladled chicken and dumplings into two of them. Mr. Grumpypants sat at her table with his arms uncrossed for once. He tapped the rim of his bowl with his spoon. "Where'd these come from?" "Attic sale. I left short. Wrote a note." He grunted. He ate two bowls and pushed the third away. "Woman came by my porch this morning. Grey braid. Asked which house was yours. I pointed. She left an envelope on your step." Matilda walked him out and found the envelope wedged under a stone. Inside were her four dollars and two quarters and a note in slanted pencil. Keep your money. Bring the pot back when it's empty and I'll fill it again. She stood on the step with the money in one hand and the note in the other. No one had watched her carry the bowls home. No one had counted her. She had forgotten to count herself. She went inside and set the envelope on the shelf beside the bowls.