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fandomweekly2020-06-28 03:32 pm
m_findlow) wrote in fandomweekly2020-06-28 03:32 pm
Entry tags:
[#057] RISKY BUSINESS (THE HELP)
Theme Prompt: #057 - Martyr
Title: Risky business
Fandom: The Help (Kathryn Stockett)
Rating/Warnings: PG. Characters are the property of Kathryn Stockett.
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: Minney doesn't like the sound of Aibileen's proposition one bit.
Minney shook her head in disbelief at her best friend. 'Aibileen, I swear by God almighty you done lost your mind.' Aibileen was the smartest woman she knew. She could've walked right on in to the Jitney Jungle, done filled her trolley and known exactly how much it cost when she got to the checkout right down to the cent. Minney had always thought she was the crazy one, but now she was forced to reconsider.
Aibileen was unperturbed by her friend's response. 'Well, you'd know all about that, Minney.'
Minney nodded. 'Ain't that the truth?' Nobody crazier than her. Not for putting up with that no good, wife beatin' husband Leon, not for havin' all them chillun always underfoot never givin' her a minute of peace, and not for all them years she done put up with Miss Hilly Holbrook and that crazy mother of hers. 'I can tell you all about crazy, but you can't just go round speakin' your mind. It was all well and good you helpin' out Miss Skeeter with those Miss Myrna letters.' Minney shook her head again. 'Law, that girl never done so much as polished a teaspoon in all her white lady life. Couldn't tell you but one use for Crisco.'
Aibileen grinned at her. 'Nobody done know more uses for Crisco than you, Minney.'
Minney ignored the compliment, not letting Aibileen change the subject on her. 'Never you mind the damn Crisco, you talkin' about tellin' Miss Skeeter all the things that go on with your white lady and her house. You wantin' me to tell her all about them things that go on.' Law, the things she mighta had to say if she was so inclined. But nice white ladies couldn't be trusted. First Miss Celia and now Miss Skeeter. They was both up to something more than just tryin' to be nice to coloured folk. It just wasn't natural. There was a place for folks that wanted to break the rules and it wasn't Mississippi. Might be they did funny things like that up state in New York and Washington and places like that, but not here. Not where everybody knew their place.
Aibileen fussed with the folds in her apron, smoothing them down over her crisp white uniform. You'd never have known she'd been working in it all day, it looked just as fresh as when she ironed it. Minney could never figure it out. By the end of the day her whites were sagging and damp from sweating inside them all day long. She had to peel her stockings off her legs they were so stuck on. Law, but she hated these humid summer days.
'Don’t someone deserve to know the truth, Minney?'
Minney narrowed her eyes. 'Now I know you, Aibileen. You don’t got a prayer in that pocketbook of yours for everyone in this town, but there ain't no jumpin' the front of that queue at them pearly gates, that for sure. God ain’t gonna go law, that Aibileen, she done a mighty fine thing being a martyr and telling it how it is. You could lose your job.'
Aibileen shook her head. Law, but she looked so righteous. 'Nobody gonna know it was me doing the telling.'
Minney nodded over her teacup. 'Mmm hmm. And what if nobody knows it? What’s to say them white ladies don’t just decide that all coloured folks is tattlin' on them, hmm? Everyone in town might lose their job cause a one Aibileen wouldn’t keep her God fearin' mouth shut.'
'Miss Skeeter wouldn’t a let that happen. She be in so much trouble if anyone found out she was writing their stories. Those white ladies don't pay her much mind now.'
'Yeah, well Miss Skeeter don't got nothin' to lose, either. Who gonna think some white lady writin' a book about the lives a coloured help?' Half her luck if she didn't have to socialise with Miss Hilly and them other ladies. They was all Miss Hilly's puppets. Miss Hilly ask one a them to jump off a bridge, they'd ask her which side of the bridge she prefer.
Aibileen leaned across her small kitchen table. 'Ain’t gonna be no book less she get some other folk to tell their stories. I know they agree to do it if you was to tell your story, Minney.'
'Ain’t gonna be me.' No ways was she gonna ever tell anyone bout the terrible awful thing she done with that chocolate pie. No sir. She was takin' that all the way to the grave. Didn't matter how much Miss Hilly deserved it, or how much Mrs Holbrook done laughed.
Aibileen reached across the table and grabbed her hand. 'I need your help, Minney. I can't fight this forever.'
'Fight what, Aibileen?'
A strange expression crossed her face. 'That Mae Mobley gonna grow up thinking that there's two kinds a people, white people and coloured people, and that white people is always gonna be better and more important than us because they got stories and we don't.'
Minney didn't want to break it to her. Mae Mobley was gonna grow up that way no matter what happened. That was just the way it was. They all started off lovin' their coloured help and thinkin' they was loved by them more then they own mothers, which was probably true since them white ladies cared more about playin' cards and crustless sandwiches, but then all those chillun got older and realised they was just the help.
'Say you think about it, Minney? Miss Skeeter and us, we be real careful about it.'
Minney eased back in the chair, feeling every year of work in her swollen ankles and aching back. 'I think about it,' she promised Aibileen. She done all the thinking she needed to do and decided no ways. She'd spend the rest of her time praying to God that Aibileen wasn't about to go and do something they were all gonna regret.
Title: Risky business
Fandom: The Help (Kathryn Stockett)
Rating/Warnings: PG. Characters are the property of Kathryn Stockett.
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: Minney doesn't like the sound of Aibileen's proposition one bit.
Minney shook her head in disbelief at her best friend. 'Aibileen, I swear by God almighty you done lost your mind.' Aibileen was the smartest woman she knew. She could've walked right on in to the Jitney Jungle, done filled her trolley and known exactly how much it cost when she got to the checkout right down to the cent. Minney had always thought she was the crazy one, but now she was forced to reconsider.
Aibileen was unperturbed by her friend's response. 'Well, you'd know all about that, Minney.'
Minney nodded. 'Ain't that the truth?' Nobody crazier than her. Not for putting up with that no good, wife beatin' husband Leon, not for havin' all them chillun always underfoot never givin' her a minute of peace, and not for all them years she done put up with Miss Hilly Holbrook and that crazy mother of hers. 'I can tell you all about crazy, but you can't just go round speakin' your mind. It was all well and good you helpin' out Miss Skeeter with those Miss Myrna letters.' Minney shook her head again. 'Law, that girl never done so much as polished a teaspoon in all her white lady life. Couldn't tell you but one use for Crisco.'
Aibileen grinned at her. 'Nobody done know more uses for Crisco than you, Minney.'
Minney ignored the compliment, not letting Aibileen change the subject on her. 'Never you mind the damn Crisco, you talkin' about tellin' Miss Skeeter all the things that go on with your white lady and her house. You wantin' me to tell her all about them things that go on.' Law, the things she mighta had to say if she was so inclined. But nice white ladies couldn't be trusted. First Miss Celia and now Miss Skeeter. They was both up to something more than just tryin' to be nice to coloured folk. It just wasn't natural. There was a place for folks that wanted to break the rules and it wasn't Mississippi. Might be they did funny things like that up state in New York and Washington and places like that, but not here. Not where everybody knew their place.
Aibileen fussed with the folds in her apron, smoothing them down over her crisp white uniform. You'd never have known she'd been working in it all day, it looked just as fresh as when she ironed it. Minney could never figure it out. By the end of the day her whites were sagging and damp from sweating inside them all day long. She had to peel her stockings off her legs they were so stuck on. Law, but she hated these humid summer days.
'Don’t someone deserve to know the truth, Minney?'
Minney narrowed her eyes. 'Now I know you, Aibileen. You don’t got a prayer in that pocketbook of yours for everyone in this town, but there ain't no jumpin' the front of that queue at them pearly gates, that for sure. God ain’t gonna go law, that Aibileen, she done a mighty fine thing being a martyr and telling it how it is. You could lose your job.'
Aibileen shook her head. Law, but she looked so righteous. 'Nobody gonna know it was me doing the telling.'
Minney nodded over her teacup. 'Mmm hmm. And what if nobody knows it? What’s to say them white ladies don’t just decide that all coloured folks is tattlin' on them, hmm? Everyone in town might lose their job cause a one Aibileen wouldn’t keep her God fearin' mouth shut.'
'Miss Skeeter wouldn’t a let that happen. She be in so much trouble if anyone found out she was writing their stories. Those white ladies don't pay her much mind now.'
'Yeah, well Miss Skeeter don't got nothin' to lose, either. Who gonna think some white lady writin' a book about the lives a coloured help?' Half her luck if she didn't have to socialise with Miss Hilly and them other ladies. They was all Miss Hilly's puppets. Miss Hilly ask one a them to jump off a bridge, they'd ask her which side of the bridge she prefer.
Aibileen leaned across her small kitchen table. 'Ain’t gonna be no book less she get some other folk to tell their stories. I know they agree to do it if you was to tell your story, Minney.'
'Ain’t gonna be me.' No ways was she gonna ever tell anyone bout the terrible awful thing she done with that chocolate pie. No sir. She was takin' that all the way to the grave. Didn't matter how much Miss Hilly deserved it, or how much Mrs Holbrook done laughed.
Aibileen reached across the table and grabbed her hand. 'I need your help, Minney. I can't fight this forever.'
'Fight what, Aibileen?'
A strange expression crossed her face. 'That Mae Mobley gonna grow up thinking that there's two kinds a people, white people and coloured people, and that white people is always gonna be better and more important than us because they got stories and we don't.'
Minney didn't want to break it to her. Mae Mobley was gonna grow up that way no matter what happened. That was just the way it was. They all started off lovin' their coloured help and thinkin' they was loved by them more then they own mothers, which was probably true since them white ladies cared more about playin' cards and crustless sandwiches, but then all those chillun got older and realised they was just the help.
'Say you think about it, Minney? Miss Skeeter and us, we be real careful about it.'
Minney eased back in the chair, feeling every year of work in her swollen ankles and aching back. 'I think about it,' she promised Aibileen. She done all the thinking she needed to do and decided no ways. She'd spend the rest of her time praying to God that Aibileen wasn't about to go and do something they were all gonna regret.
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