Forever This Summer

by Leslie C. Youngblood

  “Nice,” Nikki said.

  Markie said goodbye and went on her way.

  “Did you catch all that?” I said to Nikki.

  “Yeah. It nearly had me bawling. But I just hope she’s not setting herself up for a dose of Bogalusa-wide embarrassment. Everybody isn’t as nice, kind, and… and… empathic as us.”

  “I think she’s got this handled.” I wrote Markie—“I Believe in You and Me” in my notebook. I let Nikki’s “us” slide.

  24

  FUTURE ME

  That evening, Aunt Vie let Mama wash her hair. Instead of the Bantu Knots, she thought it should be braided.

  “Can you do it, Georgie?” Mama asked.

  My heart beat so fast I thought I was shaking.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said.

  “Let me wash her hair and we’ll come downstairs. Go in her room and get everything you need. You can braid it in the living room,” Mama said. I was nervous I’d upset her. But Mama must have read my mind. “It’s okay, Georgie. She had a house call from her doctor. They’ve adjusted her medication. Don’t think she’ll startle as easily.” I nodded.

  About thirty minutes later, she and Aunt Vie were downstairs. Nikki and Peaches helped me set up the living room like a mini beauty salon. While we were waiting, Nikki let Peaches help polish her nails. Nikki could wear polish to school, something I wasn’t allowed to do until I was thirteen. I could only wear clear polish, which was the blandest thing ever.

  When Mama had Aunt Vie settled in the living room, I held the comb close to her hair but was too jittery to start.

  “Just take your time,” Mama said.

  I didn’t want to pull too hard. I was only used to doing my hair, Peaches’s, and Mama’s. Our hair, especially Peaches’s, was so thick that it took two or three tries to get to the scalp. But Aunt Vie’s was thinner, delicate.

  “You know I’m tender-headed, Essie. Don’t yank at my head like I’m your doll baby.”

  “I won’t” is all I could think to say.

  She was with us. It didn’t matter if she didn’t have the names right. She knew she was getting her hair done and she sat still. I couldn’t help but wonder if Markie had braided Aunt Vie’s hair before. But it didn’t make me jealous. I just hoped that she had a memory like this.

  Peaches was so excited to see me braiding Aunt Vie’s hair, she sat and held the castor oil for me. Each time I parted Aunt Vie’s hair, I dabbed the oil on her scalp before I braided. Mama stayed close by and I finished just before Aunt Vie nodded off to sleep.

  “Love the way you connected the ends,” Nikki said. “Might let you braid mine one of these days.” Though we’d tried that before and argued all the way through.

  When Grandma Sugar and Aunt Essie came from the diner, we all sat out on the porch and Aunt Essie served up homemade lemon icebox pie with fresh whipped cream. They listened in as Nikki and I discussed the talent show. Along with the businesses Nikki found online, Grandma Sugar and Aunt Essie gave us other shops and churches to contact. They weren’t trying to take over, just help, and that was all we needed.

  “We’re closing the diner during the show. When we open up after, we’ll have a limited menu but the business should be worth it,” Aunt Essie said. “This is a blessing to my soul.”

  “Mine too,” Grandma Sugar said.

  Sitting out on the porch that night was the first time that I thought about the talent show honoring not only Aunt Vie but everyone who loved her. For the rest of the night, we listened to stories of them growing up in Bogalusa and all the famous people who had eaten at Sweetings. They also told us about other famous people out of Bogalusa that we’d never heard of, including a poet Grandma Sugar said won something called the Pulitzer Prize, Yusef Komunyakaa, and a Major League Baseball player called the Bogalusa Bomber, Charlie Spikes. “Had all the town watching that boring game,” Grandma Sugar said and chuckled.

  After they’d all gone to bed, Nikki and I stayed up designing posters until sleep took over.

  About two the next afternoon, Nikki and I were in the room getting ready to meet Markie and the sibs at the park.

  Mama called, “Georgie! You have some express mail.”

  “It’s here!” I shouted, which was fine because Aunt Vie was out on the porch.

  “You think that’s what it could be?”

  “What else?” I said.

  Unlike the gentle touch we normally had on the stairs, this time, we both nearly tore them down. The pictures on the walls rattled.

  “Hey, take it easy,” Mama called.

  Even though it was addressed to me, it was c/o Mama.

  Once I had the large envelope in hand, I read the address and sure enough it was from the mayor’s office. My jumps were short and rapid and like something hot was under my feet.

  “We did it! We did it!” Nikki shouted as I tore open the big envelope and took out the second one. Mama bent down and picked up the envelope, not bothering to complain. This one was letter sized. Then I stopped jumping and cleared my throat. I stood in perfect posture like Simone Biles does before she takes flight. I looked at Nikki and then at Mama.

  “Well, c’mon. Read it. Read it,” Nikki egged on.

  I shifted weight from one side to another. “In regard to an emergency permit for a fundraiser to be held at McClurie Park, it is hereby granted.” There was a lot of other legal words but that’s all my mind processed. “Granted!” I screamed.

  Mama gathered us in for hugs. “So proud of you, Georgie. Your grandma and great-aunts are, too. My baby is a community organizer. This calls for a celebration. Chocolate shakes, root beer floats, or fresh strawberry lemonade?”

  “Chocolate shakes,” we said in unison.

  I swirled my fingers in the air making an imaginary mountain of cream and said, “With extra whip.”

  “Coming right up,” Mama said.

  Nikki and I plopped down on the couch.

  “Let me see it,” Nikki said. I handed it to her and she read it again. “You should frame this. Scrapbook, at least.”

  “But I didn’t do it alone, though. You helped and so did Markie. I wish she was here, too,” I said.

  “Yeah. She deserves to be. Even if she works my nerves.”

  “You know when school starts, we can plan another one. This doesn’t have to be the last time we fundraise for Alzheimer’s.”

  “Georgie, remember… remember…”

  My stomach dipped. California.

  I hugged Nikki. Not just out of happiness about our permit, but because she was my best friend and she was moving way across the country. Even though Nikki was sitting right next to me, I could feel the distance of California trying to creep in between us.

  “Well, maybe when we see each other in the summer, we could do it.”

  She nodded and I let it go.

  Mama appeared with our chocolate shakes.

  Nikki and I weren’t on the porch for five minutes with Aunt Vie and Grandma Sugar before Markie rang.

  “I was just about to call you,” I said.

  “I need you to get to the library as soon as possible—alone.”

  She hung up, and I eyed the phone like I expected her to jump out of it.

  Nikki and I walked to the kitchen. “What was that all about? You didn’t even tell her about the permit.”

  “She didn’t give me a chance. Markie needs us at the library. Actually, she told me to come ‘alone.’”

  “She is so, so full of drama. Oozing drama,” Nikki said.

  I bit my tongue. “Well, she’s going to have to understand that we’re a package deal. I’m not leaving you out. Can’t risk it with Mama and we’ll be far apart soon enough.”

  I told Mama we were heading to the library, and Nikki and I grabbed fliers to pass out along the way. We waved goodbye to Grandma Sugar and Aunt Vie.

  Nikki squirted herself with Sweet Pea body spray as we walked. “Hey, mind if we did split up again, just this once? I’d rather be at the park wor
king with the other kids. You and Markie can come as soon as she tells you whatever it is she wants to tell you. Honestly, I’m hoping she has that box with her so you can stop wondering what’s in it. Sheesh.”

  “Sure you don’t mind?” I asked.

  “Nope. It’s a lot trying to do both. I’ll hold this down until you’re able to focus one hundred percent, which I hope is soon.”

  I thanked her, and two minutes later we were going in separate directions.

  I rolled up my fliers like a telescope. Everything was coming together. I sighed. It would make it that much better if Markie told me some good news about her mama. I picked up my pace. I couldn’t get to Markie fast enough.

  As I walked, I waved to the man selling watermelons who was parked in the same location he was when I walked to the library with Peaches.

  “Staying out of trouble?” he said. It felt more out of custom than actual curiosity.

  “Yes, sir. Thank you,” I said. I walked over to him and gave him a flier.

  “What are you passing out there,” said a frail woman with bedroom slippers with a patch of fuzzy fur on top of them. Every vegetable imaginable was displayed as neat as Mama’s favorite store in Atlanta, Publix.

  “Fliers for our talent show,” I said. “It’s honoring my aunt Vie, the owner of Sweetings.”

  “I know Elvie. Used to supply the collards there when I had a bigger farm. Anything I can do to support, let me know. I’ll pass these out to anybody who comes along. And they travel from all over Bogalusa to buy my vegetables.”

  I left a handful of fliers with her.

  When I entered the library, I headed straight for Markie’s table. There, just like before, she was surrounded by books. But right next to the books was the box. And its top was loosened.

  “Thanks for coming right away,” she said without looking up.

  “Wow! You opened it?”

  She bobbed her head but didn’t speak. It was then that I noticed she wasn’t just avoiding looking at me, her eyes were fixed on a photo.

  “Is that a picture of your mama? Was it in the box?”

  “Yeah,” she said. This time she raised her head and met my eyes. She glared at me and I reared back. Her eyes were blurry and bloodshot.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “See for yourself.”

  There was a stout Black lady, standing with her hands clasped in front of her. Twenty kids stood next to her, some frowning, some smiling. “This was in your box?”

  She nodded again. “There were about twelve Black girls in the class.”

  I glanced up at Markie. I wanted to match her face, her eyes to one of the girls in the picture, someone who I could pick out as her mama. But before I could, eyes that were unmistakable stared back at me.

  “This is my mama. Was that in this box?” Then it hit me. And the words came out in a whisper. “Your mom is here, too, isn’t she?” I didn’t wait for Markie to answer but went back to the picture. There, three girls away from my mama, was a girl with the same bushy eyebrows as Markie. But I couldn’t be sure, so I turned the picture over. Irene Whitlock. Trina Townsend.

  “Thanks to the librarian, I found these,” she said and slapped her hand on a stack of Bogalusa High School Yearbooks. “These have been here all this time, but I guess I didn’t want to see another picture of my mama. But when I saw your mama’s name on the back of that picture, too…”

  Like she was revealing some deep dark secret, Markie said, “Your mom went there, you know.”

  “We already know that. I think it’s the only high school in Bogalusa.” My tone was sharper than I intended.

  There was a book in front of her. In it was a library bookmark with Check It Out on the top half. She flipped the book open.

  “Look at this.”

  I leaned in, almost smashing my face into the book.

  “Do you believe me now?” Markie said.

  When my eyes focused, looking like the future me was Mama. I’d seen younger pictures of her, but never in school. Never laughing and being silly in Mrs. Thurston’s Home Economics Class. There were a bunch of girls, with aprons and every hair in place as they showed off freshly baked pies and cakes. Like always, her complexion was more caramel while mine was chocolate fudge, like Daddy’s, but her eyes were my eyes. Aunt Elvie’s eyes.

  I glanced up at Markie, who was ogling at me the way you do when you’re waiting for someone to “get it.”

  “Okay. That’s my mom… and…”

  “Read this.” Markie tapped the page again, then underlined the print with the tip of her pen.

  I read it aloud.

  “Seniors Katrina Townsend and best friend, Irene Whitlock…” I stopped. Everything else was fuzzy. Best friend, Irene Whitlock… Best friend, Irene Whitlock.

  “Best friends?”

  “Yep.”

  “I don’t understand,” I mumbled, thinking I wasn’t really speaking the words aloud until someone shushed me. “Why wouldn’t my mama tell you that she knew your mama? Why wouldn’t she tell me?” I had asked her. She lied.

  “Only she knows. But she probably knows why my mom abandoned me. Who knows what else she knows? Like where she is… where my dad is. I told you something was off.”

  “If she knew any of that, she would have told you.”

  “You’re still defending her?”

  “Why are you so stuck on thinking she’s keeping something from you? So what if they were friends in high school. People lose touch.…”

  “So you and Princess BFF are going to suddenly not be friends anymore?”

  “Stuff happens.” It was the lamest thing I could have said but it was all I had. I sat in the chair, but it felt like I was spinning. It was like the library turned upside down and all the books were on the floor, piles of them. And everything I knew about my mom was lost underneath the avalanche. I swallowed hard, but unlike the moment in the mayor’s office, I still couldn’t speak.

  Markie clapped the book shut and grabbed her phone. “I’m done with the guessing games. We’re getting ready to find out some answers. And we have this picture as evidence.”

  I studied the cover and “reference only” was stamped on the front.

  “You can’t check this out.”

  “Don’t need to.” Markie took out her phone and showed me where she’d already snapped a picture. “I’m on my way to your mom.”

  “Now?”

  “Right now! Don’t you think I’ve waited long enough?”

  “Do whatever you want. My mom can explain it.”

  “You don’t know your mama as well as you think you do,” Markie said.

  When I tried to think of a comeback, I remembered how I thought Mama was trying to keep me away from Markie. Had I been right then?

  We headed toward Aunt Vie’s house to see Mama. I’d already gone down the block before I realized I’d left my fliers.

  “Hey, hold up,” I said, but she didn’t stop. I called Nikki. I couldn’t risk her missing the text.

  “What’s up?”

  “I need you at the house. Leave right now.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Just get there,” I said while trying to keep up with Markie.

  She agreed and we hung up.

  The fast pace we were walking dumped buckets of sun rays on the top of my head. I sweated more than I’d ever sweated in Bogalusa. My mind was running, racing, faster than my legs. I didn’t know what confusion had happened, or how Markie would take it, but Mama would clear it up. Each time my sneakers hit the ground, it felt like I was pumping gas into this gigantic tank that held everything I believed and it was about to explode.

  25

  MARKIE, MAMA, AND ME

  When we reached Aunt Vie’s gate, I rushed past Markie. There was no way she was going to reach Mama first. I hustled up the stairs. Markie followed. I could see Nikki walking toward us but couldn’t wait.

  “Whoa, whoa, what’s going on here? You two know better than to c
ome stampeding in this house like a herd of cattle,” Grandma Sugar said. “Peaches is napping.”

  We stopped.

  “Where’s my mama?”

  “Believe she’s in the kitchen,” Grandma Sugar said.

  Markie and I raced down the narrow hallway and stood in front of the fridge.

  Mama’s eyes darted between Markie and me. My eyes searched Mama’s for an answer before we’d asked her any questions.

  “You know my mama?” Markie said. It wasn’t the forceful way I thought she’d say it. “You know her from school.”

  Mama’s nod was subtle. Even though I was staring at her, I would have missed it with a quick blink.

  “She was my best friend,” Mama said. “Irene.”

  No one moved. Every sound in the house amplified. I breathed in waves that crashed and rolled around me.

  “Why wouldn’t you say something, Ms. Katrina? Why would no one say anything to me?”

  Mama didn’t move at first. Her shoulders were leaning forward like something was pulling her down.

  “Let’s have a seat,” Mama said.

  Mama and Markie walked toward the kitchen table. I didn’t budge.

  “No. I’m not going anywhere,” I said. I wanted the answers now. If Markie had never gotten ahold of that picture, those yearbooks, we wouldn’t even be talking about it now.

  There was a ringing in my ear like every pot and pan in the kitchen clanged together. The hum of the refrigerator was louder than a trombone.

  Mama backed up and leaned against the sink.

  Then Markie’s words slunk out in a tiny voice that I barely heard over the beating of my heart. “Do you know where my mama is?”

  “You’d never know something about Markie’s mama and not tell her, right? You must have lost touch with her a long time ago. Is that right? It was before her mama left her.” I could see Nikki in the corner and Grandma Sugar in back of her. I wanted to go to Nikki, but it felt like she was moving farther away.

  Mama cleared her throat. Then she clasped her hands in front of her and wrung them. My entire body was in a knot. When Mama was upset that’s what she did.