by J. J. Murray
I need to change the subject so I can cut this child's hair without sobbing. "Where do y'all live?" I unravel her snakelike braids.
"On Sixteenth Street in apartment D, just like the name of my brother." Just five short blocks from me. I've got to change my walking route to include Sixteenth.
I start combing and wince when I think I'm pulling, but Tee doesn't complain. "Why," I whisper, "why doesn't Dee speak?"
"Daddy thinks it's cuz he saw Mama die," she whispers back.
Why did I ask that? Here comes that tear again.
"It was a car wreck. Dee was in there till they cut him out with those RR-rrr things."
The Jaws of Life ... which sound just like the clippers. I turn away and let the tear fall as I get a vision of that child maybe hanging upside down in a car seat, crying his eyes out for his mama who is dying maybe an arm's length away. A child should never have to see that.
"I wasn't in the car. I was at Nanna's." Which explains why Tee isn't as broken up inside as Dee is. "Nanna lives on a farm far, far away from here with apple trees and a pig and everything. Dee likes it there"
So Dewey Baxter is a farm boy, a real-live, big-boned, corn-fed redneck ... with mixed kids. My God, life on the farm has certainly changed.
For the better.
"But Daddy's job at the steel place is here. He loads up the trains."
Calhoun Steel. Good pay, has a union, nice benefits. Why ain't he workin' on a Monday?
"He took a day off today," Tee says. "We're goin' out to buy school clothes next"
I steady myself with a hand on the chair. This child can read my mind. I slide my fingers from the ends of her hair to the lobe of her ear. If I was this child's mama, I wouldn't want that much cut off. There's so much you can do with good hair like this. "You sure you want short hair, Tee?"
"I dunno. Mama said she wanted to let it grow and grow till it reached the floor!" She giggles. "But I'd trip and fall down if it was that long."
"You sure would." I look her right in the eye. "Tell you what, Miss Baxter. I'm gonna-"
"I'm not Tee Baxter," Tee interrupts. "I'm Tee Jones. That was my mama's last name"
Dewey and Miss Jones? Twice? This is getting as compli cated as the head of hair I'm looking at. So they weren't married, she dies, he gets the kids? That might put any man on his knees at a church. "Okay, Miss Jones, I'm gonna trim your ends and make 'em even, and then I'm gonna style this head of hair so nice that your daddy won't even recognize you"
"He won't?" She widens those eyes so wide. Lord, I am falling in love with this child. You doin' this on purpose?
"Oh, he'll know it's you" I lean in and whisper, "But he'll think you're so much older."
"He will?"
"I guarantee it." I happily start trimming her ends. "What grade you goin' into?"
"I'll be in first grade at Avery Elementary School."
I smile, mainly up at God. You certainly are trying to tell me something, Lord. And I don't know if I like what You're saying just yet, but at least You're talking to me again. "I went there"
"You did?"
11yep „
"About a million years ago," Diana cracks.
"Hush, Diana," I say, and I really think about it. It was only ... dag, thirty years ago? "You know who your teacher's gonna be?"
"Not yet"
"I remember my first grade teacher, Mrs. Steck"
"Don't see how," Diana says.
I stop cutting. "Miss Jones and I are having a conversation, Miss Poindexter. So if you don't mind." Diana zips her lips with a hand to her mouth, and Mrs. Simpson's right eyebrow twitches. Diana ain't getting that fifty-cent tip or that half smile today. "You'll have lots of fun in first grade, Tee. Is, uh, is Dee going to school?"
"Uh-huh. He'll be at Avery, too."
"He's in kindergarten?" He seems so small.
"Nope. He'll be in that other building."
The prekindergarten program. I nod, then smile at the ceiling. Starting me all over again, huh, Lord? I was a paid teacher's aide in that program at Avery before I married Jonas, but gave it up to be his wife. I should never have given that up. I loved that job so much that it wasn't a job anymore. They were my children, each and every one of them. Jonas thought I wouldn't have enough time playing organ, attending meetings, visiting sick folks at their homes or in the hospital ... and tending to our own children. "Besides," he had said, "I don't want you to go into that neighborhood." Yeah, it's a rough neighborhood, but Avery is the oasis in the middle. Principal Carter runs a tight ship, and it's about time I got back on the boat. Didn't I get something in the mail about volunteering there? I could rearrange my schedule to get Tuesdays and Wednesdays off since those are slow days.... Lord, You're being mysterious as usual, but I like Your mysteries. It's nice to have a purpose again. "Um, when does your daddy work?"
"He goes to work when we go to school and picks us up after." So I'll be able to see him after school twice a week? Hmm. I smile. But nine to three? Only six hours a day? That's only a thirty-hour week-"Oh, and he works all night Friday and comes home in time for cartoons on Saturday. Nanna stays with us then. She's a really good cook."
Dewey's a real-live working man. But working a split shift on Friday night into Saturday morning? Least he's around for his kids, and I bet he don't get enough sleep. Napping in that truck is just what he needs.
After trimming, I plait Tee's hair as tightly as I can, and she doesn't complain a lick. "Mama used to do it that way"
I spin her in the chair. "You like it?"
"Uh-huh." But she's not smiling, rather getting that far away look like her brother. Maybe I've done it exactly like her mama used to do? This is too much drama for two little kids' haircuts.
I hand her a sucker, and she takes it reluctantly, still looking at her pretty face in the mirror. "No thank you, Penny," she says, handing the sucker back to me.
"Keep it for your brother."
`No thank you"
"Give it to your daddy, then"
She stares at the sucker, a cherry-vanilla one. "He likes grape."
I fish out a grape sucker. "Last one."
Tee almost smiles. "Thank you"
"Let me get your change" I slide the crumpled twenty into the cash register and pull out a crisp ten. I'm shorting myself a few dollars, but I really didn't do much cutting. "Here you go"
Tee takes the ten, takes Dee's hand, and the two of them walk out of Diana's ... taking my heart and soul with them.
"Better make sure they get to their daddy okay," Diana says with a crafty smile. "Wouldn't want 'em gettin' lost."
I check myself in the mirror. I'm still so big! I flick some of Tee's hairs off my smock and stride down the sidewalk, stopping at the passenger window. Dewey's eyes are as big as soup bowls. "What do you think?"
"Wow," he says. "I almost don't recognize them" I wink at Tee, and she winks back.
"You could use a cut, Mr. Baxter"
"Uh, well, I usually go to a barber."
"Where they thin out your hair too much. You got a fine, thick head of hair. All it needs is a little edge-up. And I'll do this one on the house" I am being so charitable today.
"No, I, um, well
"Never been in a salon, huh?" I interrupt.
"No.
"I'll cut you out here. Got some battery-operated clippers. Won't take but a second"
"Thanks for the offer, Ruth, but-"
"Daddy," Tee says, "you lookin' all ragged"
Dewey looks from Tee to me and back to Tee. "I'm lookin' ragged?"
"Mama wouldn't want you in the house with you lookin' like that," Tee says, sounding infinitely older. "Penny got to cut that wig of yours"
"I'll get the clippers," I say, dashing into Diana's.
"What's wrong?" Diana says when I bust through that door.
"Nothin'" I snatch the clippers. "I'm cuttin' the daddy."
She checks herself in the mirror. "He comin' in?"
I put a clean comb and s
ome scissors in my smock pocket. "No"
"Why not?"
I walk to the door. "Cuz he a man, that's why. I'll be back"
When I get outside, Dewey is sitting on the bed of the truck, the tailgate down, Dee and Tee dancing all around him. Now that is a picture worth a thousand words. "How am I gonna cut you?"
"Oh," he says, and he slides down to the pavement. A little taller than me, about as wide, nicely proportioned, with big hands and feet. Dewey Baxter is just my size. "You have to be able to get behind me, right?" That's not what I had in mind, but oh, the wicked thoughts rolling through my head right now.
I nod. "You just sit on the edge there, and I'll work around behind you"
"Okay."
I hoist myself onto the bed of the truck and kneel. That shit hurts my knees, so I slide directly behind him and flop a leg to either side, Dee at my right shoulder, Tee on my left. Now this is a picture worth a million words. Folks driving by on Vine are sure to be crossing that center line for the next fifteen minutes.
"Do I look that ragged, Ruth?" Dewey asks.
"Uh-huh," I say. I drink in his Dial scent and some kind of cheap peach-scented shampoo and start to trim the hairs on his neck. "Seen mops lookin' better." He laughs, but he doesn't jiggle like the Santa Claus he could play in real life. "Keep still, Mr. Baxter, or you'll get cut" I place my left hand, which holds the comb, on his back while cutting with my right and find a solid wall of muscle. Dewey must load the trains all by his damn self. He is a front-end loader. I feel Dee's breath on my neck and turn to him. "How am I doin'?"
Dee shrugs.
Tee points at the little rooster tail dangling from the nape of Dewey's neck. "You gonna cut that off, Penny?"
"Definitely."
"Good," Tee says.
"Cut what?" Dewey asks.
"This little ponytail you got growin' back here" I snip it away, and Tee smiles. "Turn to your left." When he turns, I look closer at his face: smooth-shaven, not a single wrinkle, kind of ashy, chubby ears, pretty full lips for a white man. I edge around his ears, hair falling and flying back with the breeze. "You want your sideburns?" He ain't exactly Elvis, but he's pretty close.
"Not really."
"Good," Tee and I say together. I trim them off. "Your Elvis days are over"
"You don't like Elvis?"
What's to like? He's dead. "I like his music all right." I tug softly on his right ear. "Turn to the right."
When he turns, I feel his weight on my legs. "Sorry," he says, and he leans away from me.
"It's all right," I say softly. It ain't, though. It felt nice. My thighs haven't tingled like that in a long time, and when my thighs tingle, my body tingles. I act like I can't reach his other sideburn and pull on his shoulder so his weight returns to me. "One more snip, and ... no another, and ... No, that part's not quite right. I've just got to ... there" I push him gently off my legs and stand. "How much you want off the top?"
"How much do I need?"
If that was my hair, it would be about a year's worth. "A couple inches."
"You're the boss"
"You got that right," I say, and I start sectioning and cutting, sectioning and cutting, till Dewey Baxter is once again presentable to the world. I ruffle his remaining hair to dislodge as much cut hair as possible and wipe the hairs off his shoulders. Solid as a rock. Nanna is a good cook.
As he turns around, I stand on the edge of the tailgate. He reaches up two hands to me. "Let me help you down, Ruth."
"No, I can manage"
"Come on," he says. I lean forward, and he lifts me off the tailgate, his hands gripping my arms, my legs completely in the air, and sets me down gently. I am utterly speechless. He lifted me! And he didn't even grunt! "How much I owe you?"
I cannot find my voice. "Like I said," I say, almost whispering, "no charge"
"You sure?"
"I'm sure" I look at Dee and Tee. "Just keep bringin' these beautiful children by at least once a month"
"Okay." He runs his hands through his hair. "Feels right nice."
It does, indeed. A man lifted me! I can't remember any man being able to do that. Jonas could barely lift even one of my legs. Damn. I can't remember if a man ever lifted me, since I know my daddy never did. I can only remember being lifted by women.
"And, um, you stay away from the barber."
He smiles. "Guess I'll need a trim about once a month, too"
"Your hair grows fast, Mr. Baxter. Better make it every three weeks"
"Sure" He smiles. "Ruth."
Oh, my heart! "Well, y'all take care" I turn to Tee and whisper, "If you need to have them plaits tightened, you stop by anytime"
"Okay, Penny," she whispers.
I rub Dee's head. "Goodbye, Little Man."
Dee rolls his eyes and jumps into Dewey's arms.
"You take care, Ruth," Dewey says, loading his children into the truck. As the truck rumbles away, Tee leans out and yells, "Bye, Penny!"
I walk back into Diana's whistling "All Things Are Working"
And they are. My heart and soul are alive again because a man and his children have swept me off my feet!
seven
The following Tuesday, I walk to Avery to sign up to be a volunteer. I didn't go that first week since I know how crazy the first week of school can be. And I also know the Bible says to wait on the Lord, so I did; but sometimes you just can't do that for very long. God's been talking right loud to me from the very second I saw those children. Is this "God's will" for me? I don't know. I've always had trouble with that phrase. Whenever we had a funeral at Antioch, I'd say "It was God's will, brother," or "It was God's will, sister" till I wasn't hearing what I was saying anymore. How can anybody know God's will since He owns it? There's an apostrophe after His name in that phrase, right? I believe you can only pray so much to know His will. After that, you gotta get up off your knees, put on your traveling shoes, and go.
I take the long way to Avery, walking by the apartments on Sixteenth. Just to see. No harm in that. I pause just long enough to count the doors since none have letters on them. The place looks like a hotel almost with all the doors facing the street. Four floors, four doors per floor ... daa-em. They have to be one-bedroom efficiencies, those "shotgun" apart ments with just enough room to turn around in. Dewey and family aren't exactly living large (like I am, right?), but at least they're close to me. But for Dewey and two children to live there? They're boxed in like I am. Least they got a bottom floor, corner apartment, so the only folks to bother them are upstairs or to their right. Folks in the middle must go crazy, surrounded by noises on all sides. And those metal stairs going to the other floors look right rusty. Wouldn't want Tee or Dee to be climbing on those.
I cut over to Fifteenth, pass the spot where Guitarman's blood still stains the sidewalk, and head to Avery, an allbrick relic from back in my day. I walk into the office which looks so much smaller every time I go in. I stop at the counter and freeze. Mrs. Holland is still the secretary. She was ancient when I was here as a child and has to be pushing ninety. And it even looks like she's still wearing the same awful clothes she wore thirty years ago: frilly white blouse, gray skirt to her shins, black pumps right out of the '40s. She totters her hunched body off her chair and groans, approaching the counter with a squint. "If it isn't Ruthie Lee Childress."
"How do you know it's me?"
"I never forget a face" She looks at me and smiles, but her eyes are sad. "You were hard to forget when you volunteered here, and you were definitely an unforgettable child."
I drop my eyes and fidget with my hands. Mrs. Holland was the one who told me my mama had died, and I had pitched an unholy fit in this very office, telling Mrs. Holland that she was wrong, that I had just spoken to my mama this morning, that someone had told her a lie. But somehow that old lady had held me right over there on that shiny bench till it had sunk in.
"I've never, uh, apologized for that," I say. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Holland."
She waves
a hand. "I'd have done the same thing. Your mama was young, too young to be havin' a stroke" She pulls out a sheet of paper and writes my name at the top. "You're here to volunteer, right?"
"How'd you know "
"Because I seen the look in your eye, girl. Saw the same look, what, fifteen, twenty years ago when you used to work here regular. You are here for the children."
Just one in particular, actually. A little boy.
"How many days can you serve?"
"Two, Tuesdays and Wednesdays"
She places two check marks on the sheet. "Any preference?"
"Pre-K."
Mrs. Holland's furry little eyebrows arch. "You sure?"
"Yes."
"It's all day now, you know, not half a day like the old days."
"I'm sure."
"Twenty four-year-olds in the same room all day."
"Uh-huh"
She looks at me hard. "Don't you `uh-huh' me, Ruthie Lee. You got somethin' cookin'." I don't reply. "You got a child in mind already, don't you?"
Damn, she's good. She should hire herself out as a lie detector. "Yes"
"Some little boy or girl stole your heart" I nod. "Good. We need more folks like you. Sorry we can't hire you as an aide. Our funding got cut again. Sign here" I sign the form "Ruth Borum," and Mrs. Holland blinks. "That the name you still go by?"
"I have my reasons"
"Didn't you
"Yes, we're divorced," I interrupt.
"Ruth Lee Childress is a much prettier name"
I know it is. "Like I said, I have my reasons"
She shrugs and takes the paper, stuffing it into an over flowing file cabinet. "Well, you are still Ruthie Lee to me " She turns and winks. "Now get your little bubble butt to class, young lady."
"Yes, ma'am," I say cheerfully, and I nearly skip through the first-grade hall. I pause at a few windows and look for Tee but don't see her. I do find her locker and see a pretty picture of a tree taped to it. I know we'll see each other. Avery isn't that big of a school. Maybe we'll do lunch.