Read the following story, and then answer the question that follows:
Gwendolyn Brooks (1917-2000) was an American poet, author, and
teacher. In this short story, a family contemplates losing their house.
Home
by Gwendolyn Brooks
[1] What had been wanted was this always, this always to last, the talking
softly on this porch, with the snake plant in the jardinière(1) in the
southwest corner, and the obstinate(2) slip from Aunt Eppie's magnificent
Michigan fern at the left side of the friendly door. Mama, Maud Martha, and
Helen rocked slowly in their rocking chairs, and looked at the late
afternoon light on the lawn and at the emphatic(3) iron of the fence and at
the poplar tree(4). These things might soon be theirs no longer. Those
shafts and pools of light, the tree, the graceful iron, might soon be viewed
passively by different eyes Papa was to have gone that noon, during his lunch hour, to the office of
the Home Owners' Loan. If he had not succeeded in getting another
extension, they would be leaving this house in which they had lived for
more than fourteen years. There was little hope. The Home Owners' Loan
was hard. They sat, making their plans.
"We'll be moving into a nice flat somewhere," said Mama. "Somewhere on
South Park, or Michigan, or in Washington Park Court." Those flats, as the
girls and Mama knew well, were burdens on wages twice the size of
Papa's. This was not mentioned now.
"They're much prettier than this old house," said Helen. "I have friends I'd
just as soon not bring here. And I have other friends that wouldn't come
down this far for anything, unless they were in a taxi.”
[5] Yesterday, Maud Martha would have attacked her. Tomorrow she might.
Today she said nothing. She merely gazed at a little hopping robin in the
tree, her tree, and tried to keep the fronts of her eyes dry.
"Well, I do know," said Mama, turning her hands over and over, "that I've
been getting tireder and tireder of doing that firing. From October to April,
there's firing to be done." "But lately we've been helping, Harry and I," said Maud Martha. "And
sometimes in March and April and in October, and even in November, we
could build a little fire in the fireplace. Sometimes the weather was just
right for that."
She knew, from the way they looked at her, that this had been a mistake.
They did not want to cry.
But she felt that the little line of white, sometimes ridged with smoked
purple, and all that cream-shot saffron(5) would never drift across any
western sky except that in back of this house. The rain would drum with as
sweet a dullness nowhere but here. The birds on South Park were
mechanical birds, no better than the poor caught canaries in those "rich"
women's sun parlors.
[10] "It's just going to kill Papa!" burst out Maud Martha. "He loves this
house! He lives for this house!"
He lives for us," said Helen. "It's us he loves. He wouldn't want the house,
except for us."
"And he'll have us," added Mama, "wherever."
"You know," Helen sighed, "if you want to know the truth, this is a relief. If
this hadn't come up, we would have gone on, just dragged on, hanging out
here forever."
"It might," allowed Mama, "be an act of God. God may just have reached
down and picked up the reins."
[15] “Yes,” Maud Martha cracked in, "that's what you always say - that
God knows best."
Her mother looked at her quickly, decided the statement was not suspect,
looked away.
Helen saw Papa coming. “There's Papa,” said Helen.
They could not tell a thing from the way Papa was walking. It was that
same dear little staccato(6) walk, one shoulder down, then the other, then
repeat, and repeat. They watched his progress. He passed the Kennedys',
he passed the vacant(7) lot, he passed Mrs. Blakemore's. They wanted to
hurl themselves over the fence, into the street, and shake the truth out of
his collar. He opened his gate - the gate and still his stride and face
told them nothing.
"Hello," he said.
[20] Mama got up and followed him through the front door. The girls knew
better than to go in too.
Presently Mama's head emerged. Her eyes were lamps turned on.
"It's all right," she exclaimed. "He got it. It's all over. Everything is all
right."
The door slammed shut. Mama's footsteps hurried away.
"I think," said Helen, rocking rapidly, "I think I'll give a party. I haven't
given a party since I was 11. I'd like some of my friends to just casually
see that we're homeowners."
Footnotes:
1. French for "planter"
2. Obstinate (adjective) stubbornly refusing to change
3. Emphatic (adjective) attracting special attention
4. A type of quick-growing tree
5. An orange to orange-yellow
6. Short, quick, and separate
7. Vacant (adjective) not filled, used, or lived in
Question: For Part A (the previous question)- you answered this question-
PART A: Which of the following BEST describes Maud Martha's point of
view about possibly losing their home?
a. Maud Martha can't help but think about everything that they'll lose.
b. Maud Martha is convinced that they will never find something that
compares.
c. Maud Martha is somewhat embarrassed by the current state of their
home.
d. Maud Martha is solely concerned about the effect that it will have on their
father.
Based on your answer from Part A, answer this question.
PART B: Which quote BEST supports the answer from PART A?
"She merely gazed at a little hopping robin in the tree, her tree, and tried to keep
the fronts of her eyes dry." (Paragraph 5)
"I think I'll give a party. I haven't given a party since I was 11. I'd like some of my
friends to just casually see that we're homeowners." (Paragraph 24)
"Yes," Maud Martha cracked in, "that's what you always say that God knows
best." (Paragraph 15)
"It's just going to kill Papa!' burst out Maud Martha. 'He loves this house! He lives
for this house!"" (Paragraph 10)