“Judith!”

I sit up quickly, sticks and leaves tangled in my long brown hair. I look around for the source of the voice, cursing myself for falling asleep during my work time. I spot my father standing in the middle of the field, his hands cupped around his mouth and his eyes darting around. I stand up and run towards him, my dress flowing behind me. He glares at me as I reach him.

“Where were you?” he asked begrudgingly as he picked corn from the ground and placed it in a bag.

“I… I fell asleep. I’m sorry, sir.” I lowered my head and prayed he didn’t hit me.

But he simply grumbled something and kept doing his chores. I took a sigh of relief and skitted over to the apple tree behind him. I picked the apples and placed them in a nearby cloth bag. My boss's wife needs 20 apples to make apple pies for her party this weekend. I pick fast, now being 20 minutes behind schedule. I’ll hear about this from my father once we get home.

It is June 4th, 1933. My 16th birthday was a few days ago, but all my father and I could do to celebrate were make a small cake made up of ingredients our boss was throwing out. I appreciated it, but I would have liked it more. The boss’s children get extravagant birthday parties, but my father and I get nothing except bad pay. I’ve been working for Mr. Kelling since I was 10. My father got a job here when I was a baby and decided it was time for me to put my contribution in. My mother died during childbirth because we couldn’t afford the proper medicine to care for both her and me. Being a single father in this town is looked down upon, which is why our boss Mr. Kelling likes to keep us hidden most of the time. But today, we get the pleasure of working in the field picking vegetables and fruit. My father hasn’t cut my hair ever, since he’s afraid he’ll mess it up. It is down past my back. I rarely wear it up, though. I don’t want my father to feel ashamed. I wear my hair with pride.

“John!” yelled a man.

I turned my head to the voice yelling my father’s name and saw Mr. Kelling standing on the porch of his estate, looking cross. My father slung the bag over his shoulder and walked towards him, leaving me to keep picking apples. I didn’t know what Mr. Kelling wanted, but I did not dare ask unless I wanted to be hit. I’d much rather spend the hot summer day picking apples than question Mr. Kelling.

Suddenly, a girl jumps out from behind the tree and yells. I scream and fall backward, hitting my head on a pile of dirt. I sit up, rubbing the back of my head and wincing.

“Judy, I’m so sorry!”

A hand latches onto mine and pulls me up. My vision adjusts and I see Mary standing there, looking worried. I immediately laugh it off and hug her. She hugs me back and we stay like that for a while before I remember her father could be watching us. I pull back, looking at her gorgeous green eyes.

“Did Mr. Kelling send you out here?” I ask her.

She shakes her head. “My father doesn’t care where I go as long as I leave him to be.”

Her black hair was put into a neat bun and she wore a pink summer dress with a beautiful floral pattern. I could tell her mother dressed her this morning.

Mary and I have been best friends since I started working here. She’s a year older than me, but she is still the only person to ever get me. She showed me sympathy when she saw little 10 year old me doing the laundry outside in the blistering heat and took me up to her room. We stayed up there until her father caught us and I was sent into the basement. I wasn’t allowed to go home that night, but I remembered the conversations Mary and I had that day and everything felt okay. Every day after that, she started seeing me more and more. Her father doesn’t approve of our friendship, but Mary just has to flash him her sad eyes and he leaves us alone.

Mary reaches for my head and rubs the back of it. 

“I’m sorry, Judy. It wasn’t my intention to make you fall.” She looked at me with a devastated expression on her face. I took her hand and held it, reassuring her. “It’s fine, Mary. I’ll be fine.” 

She squeezes my hand and looks over to her estate. She leans close to my ear and whispers, “Meet me in my room in 10 minutes. I’ll tell my father I forgot to give you my laundry yesterday”.

I smiled and nodded. She gives me a quick hug and walks elegantly to the door and goes inside. I haven’t been in Mary’s room for about three weeks, so I was very excited. I quickly finished up my apple picking and slung the cloth bag over my shoulder. I stumbled back a bit but caught myself before I fell. I walked towards the kitchen while the hot summer sun was beating on my face. The sweat pouring down my face was something I didn’t particularly love, but I dealt with it because I knew I’d see Mary again soon. I walked into the kitchen which was bustling with cooks and maids. They all avoided eye contact with me as I was less to them. I didn’t get my own room inside the estate. I simply went home every night. To get a room, even in the basement, was a blessing here. I walked past them and put the bag of apples next to an oven. A chef stared daggers at me, daring me to come closer. I quickly backed away and headed out the back door. The estate was in the middle of nowhere, but Mr. Kelling owned 900 acres of land. He built his estate in the middle of the field and the surrounding area was for growing crops and behind the house was a garden for his wife. I’m very rarely put on gardening duty. But when I am, it’s the best day. I love seeing all the flowers bloom and putting them in bunches. I tend to give Mary a rose or a daisy I pick. She keeps them in a vase in her room. Her parents never seem to notice that new flowers get added to it every time they make me garden. When I was 13 and she was 14, we made a pact with each other. I said I wouldn’t quit this job until I turned 18. The day after my birthday, I would throw in the towel, and I and her would move somewhere far away from this place. She has been slowly stealing a bit of money and hiding it in her room ever since we made the pact. We need enough money to get a good house. I have been taking a small amount of money for every paycheck my father and I get. I want us to live a good life. I’m not sure what we’ll do about getting husbands, but that’s the least of my concern right now.

I make my way through the hallway that leads to the stairs. It’s been 10 minutes since Mary told me to go to her bedroom. I’m always punctual. As I pass by the grand living room, I see my father walking out. He has a bright red hand mark on his left cheek. I wince, but he gives me a reassuring smile. I know my father can take it. Mr. Kelling has only laid a hand on me once but hasn’t since. I was 14 and was caught sneaking away from my laundry duty to see Mary. He slapped me across the face and yelled at me to get back to work. I saw Mary hiding in a corner behind Mr. Kelling. Her face was distorted through the lens of my tears. From then on, we were extremely careful when we met up.

I wave goodbye to my father and head up the stairs. I reached Mary’s bedroom and knocked gently on the door. She opened it, her hair now down and spilling over her shoulders.

“Hello madam,” I start.

She giggles and leans against the doorframe.

“I’m here to collect your-”

She suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me into her room. She closed the door behind me and I sat on her bed. Her room was fairly tiny for the child of Mr. Kelling. Mary told me that he wanted a son and was extremely disappointed when she was born. They gave her a small spare room in the corner instead of the big one that was prepped and ready for a newborn baby boy. But we make it work. She’s decorated it in pale pinks and greys. Her wallpaper was a nice pink floral pattern that I helped her pick out when she was 12. Her previous wallpaper was a boring white. Her room felt dreary, so she suggested to her mother that she should get new wallpaper. She agreed, luckily, and I told Mary in secret that she should get wallpaper that matched her favorite dress. The dress she’s wearing now, actually. She hasn’t grown much in the years since then, so she can still fit in the dress, even if it might be a bit short. 

She sat next to me and I lay back. I stared up at her ceiling, thinking of what the ceiling would look like at our future home. Mary lied next to me and we stayed like that for a while, not saying anything.

“Have you ever been in love, Judith?” She asked.

I felt my face turn hot and I looked over at her. She looked troubled. She turned and faced me as well. Her brows were furrowed and her mouth was a thin line.

“I am not sure, Mary. I have really only interacted with the staff here, my father… and you.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t be in love with someone,” she said. 

I laughed and said, “There are no boys working here.”

“What about in your village? There must be somebody.”

I shook my head. She looked away and stared at the ceiling again. I pat her arm and she looked back at me.

“But I think I have been in love. With someone.”

She smiled. “Me, too.”

“You are so easy to talk to,” I said. 

She laughed and nodded. “You’re the only friend I’ve had. Everyone who lives nearby avoids me. You were the only person who actually talked to me as if I was a person. You know people around here do not like women.”

“My father always says that people do not like what they aspire to be.”

Mary grins and puts her hand on my cheek.

“Your father is a smart man,” she says.

“He is. I am so grateful he got me this job. It has been quite an experience.”

I heard a bang on the door and I jumped up. I immediately started collecting clothes on the floor and placing them in a wire basket by Mary’s bed. The door opened and Mary was still lying on the bed, her hand where my face was. Her father entered the room and stood over her, ignoring me.

“Mary. Sit up.”

She sighed and sat up on the bed, looking her father in the eyes.

“What have I told you about closing the door when the help is in with you?” he asks sternly.

Mary moves farther back on the bed and crosses her arms. She doesn’t say anything. She simply stares at the bed cover. Her father moves closer to her and grabs her wrist, pulling her towards him. She looks at him and frowns, her hair falling over her face.

“What did I say?” he asks again.

“Do not do it,” she responds quietly.

He throws her hand down and it hits her thigh. I can see her getting choked up. It takes everything in me not to run to her. Her father looks at me standing there, looking at them. 

“Back to work, Booker.”

My last name sounds like poison on his tongue as he glares at me before turning and walking out the door. I relax my shoulders and let out a sigh of relief. I look over at Mary, who is staring down at the bed. I walk up to her and put my hand on her shoulder. She looks at it and proceeds to lean over and plant a kiss on my ring finger. I take my hand away, staring at it. I look back at her and she’s now on her side, facing away from me. I smile even though she can’t see it. I take the basket of laundry and head out the door, not looking back.

I now sit in my small bedroom that butts up right against my father’s. He gave me the bigger one once I turned 7. He said I needed more space since I was growing, and I appreciated it even then. Still, it was extremely cramped. There was my bed right in the middle of the room and to the left was a small closet that could really only fit a couple of dresses. I had a basket next to my bed for laundry, and that was it. I kept some books on the floor of my closet, so I leaned over and grabbed one. I leaned against the headboard of my bed and opened the book. This particular book was As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner. Mary gave it to me a couple of years ago. She had seen how I read her books when we were hanging out, so she gave me her favorite one. I snuck the book out by putting it under my dress so Mr. Kelling wouldn’t see. 

I’ve read this book many times, but I’m re-reading it today to remind myself of Mary. I want to think she’s okay and safe in her room right now. I think about all the summers when I sat in her bedroom for hours reading while Mr. Kelling thought I was in the basement working. My father did my work for me so I could be with Mary, which I appreciated. We don’t interact much, but we’re very close. We have an unspoken bond I can’t explain to anybody. 

I sit in my room for an hour reading before my father calls me for dinner. I set the book face down on my bed and leave my room. I enter the tiny hallway that’s only about six feet long. I walk into the kitchen, which is just a small round table and two wooden chairs on opposite sides. There’s an old stove that could explode at any moment, so we rarely use it. There is a small hooded island across from the stove that shows the living room. It is just a small torn couch with a table in front of it. My father and I usually sit there and silently play card games, occasionally laughing with each other before going to bed. But right now, I sit down at the kitchen table and eat dinner. It’s an old can of tomato soup my father stole a couple of days ago from Mr. Kelling’s basement. I’m sure it won’t be missed. My father sits down across from me with his own bowl and starts eating too. We’re silent for a while before he breaks the silence.

“Why did you fall asleep today?” he asks.

I gulp and avoid eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t sleep much last night.”

He chuckles a bit and eats a spoonful of soup.

“Is it because you were reading that book Ms. Kelling got you again?”

I blush and try to act composed when I confirm his suspicions.

“You can read before bed, Judith. You need to be alert during the day. Do you understand?”

I nod and we sit in silence for the rest of dinner. I think my father likes Mary. He always makes sure I see her at least once a day if she doesn’t find me first. This is my only opportunity to have friends since my father and my mother grew up together, living in a small town without much money. They only had each other, and I think my father wants me to have someone close to me. My father says Mary acts like my mother. She is blissful and goes through life without a care in the world. But she is still caring and never lets anybody get hurt under her watch. That’s probably why he wants me to be close to her.

I wash my bowl in the broken sink and go back to my room. I flop down on my bed and open the book again. I’m about three pages in when I hear a bang on my window. I jump, the book landing on the ground. I look at my window and see the curtains covering it. I stand up and walk over, slowly pulling the curtains back. I’m greeted by bright green eyes shining in the dark. 

“Mary?” I ask.

I open the window and pull her arms, helping her through the small gap. She lands on my floor and quickly stands up.

“Mary, what are you doing?”

She wraps her arms around me and I stumble backward. I reciprocate the hug, still baffled.

“I figured it out,” she says, her voice shaking.

I pull back and look at her face. Her brows are furrowed but she’s smiling wider than I’ve ever seen her before.

“What did you figure out?” I ask. 

I’ve never seen her like this before. She’s usually happy, but not after she’s had a fight with her father. But now she grabs my face and plants her lips on mine. My eyes widen and my breath quickens, but I don’t pull away. I stand there, and suddenly, everything feels right. All the summers I spent in her room come flooding back and I wonder how I didn’t see it sooner. I think about picking the flowers in the garden for her and how she keeps them in her vase. I think about her bright face gleaming while she smiles in my room. I think about how this will forever be the best moment of my life. 

I pull away and she looks into my eyes, gleaming. My mouth is slightly agape and I say nothing.

“Judy?” she asks, now sounding worried. Her face crumples and she starts crying.

“Judy, I’m so sorry! I thought you felt what I felt, but I misjudged. Oh, don’t tell my father!”

I quickly wrap my arms around her and pull her close.

“You were right,” I say simply.

I don’t know what to do now. Mary is sleeping on my floor, her pink dress now on the floor next to her. We didn’t do anything, she just wanted to get comfortable. We’ve been in our briefs in front of each other before, but now it feels different. The world looks different after you just kissed your best friend. Especially since that best friend is a girl. I shove my pillow over my face so Mary doesn’t hear my sobs. What will my father say? What will Mary’s father do? I’ll be banished from my family name and Mary will be kicked out into the streets. But nobody saw the kiss. It was only me and her. We could tell nobody about it. We could just go back to normal. But I want so badly to be with her. I realize that’s why I wanted to move in with her so badly. I wanted her to be my partner; my wife. But I knew that could never happen. Two girls together is just absurd. It’s forbidden. I feel a hand reach up and touch my shoulder. I remove my pillow from my face and see Mary standing there. She crawls into the bed with me, moving under the covers. She lays down and faces me, putting a hand on my cheek.

“It’ll be okay, Judy,” she whispers softly. 

I hold back my tears and take a deep breath. I lean forward and kiss her nose. She smiles and wraps her arms around me. I put the covers close to her head so I can quickly hide her if my father walks in. This will be our little secret.