by Mary Monroe
“It don’t matter to me if you do or not. But you shouldn’t waste up a good name on a baby you ain’t never goin’ to see again,” Simone pointed out. “Wait until you get grown and get married and have another daughter. Whatever name you wanted to give to this one, save it for the one you will have without shame. Do you hear me?”
“Yessum,” Ruby muttered. “Simone, is Othella’s party over with?”
“Naw. I doubt it. Even though I told them young’uns of mine to send their friends home, I got a feelin’ there’s a few still in the livin’ room dancin’, eatin’, and listenin’ to that Davis boy play his guitar. Why?”
“Because I don’t want nobody else to get suspicious like O’Henry and Ike done. I need to get back out there and dance some more and drink a few more beers before I go home.” Ruby handed the baby to Simone, but not before kissing her again, this time on her cheek. “One more thing. When you take my baby to that asylum, can I go with you? I’d at least like to know where I’m sendin’ my child to.”
“Umpossible! That’s umpossible! That would be too hard on you and on me. I ain’t goin’ to watch you boo-hoo up a storm in front of them nuns. How would I explain you to them? I done already decided that I’m goin’ to say that this baby’s mama died givin’ birth to her. Naw. You can’t go with me. I feel bad enough already!” Simone stopped talking when she felt the baby wiggle. “Let’s keep our voices down so we don’t wake up this child. You go on back out yonder to the livin’ room and dance some more, if that’s what you feel like doin’. That’ll help the rest of that birthin’ fluid drain out of you. I plugged you up real good, so you don’t have to worry about drippin’ nothin’ else on my clean floors. I told Othella to bring Reverend Meacham in through the kitchen door. He will be in and out, and none of them kids will even know he’s been here. The next time I see you, you’ll be your old self again, right?”
Ruby nodded so hard her neck hurt. She reached back to massage the back of her neck, eyeing Simone with mild contempt. Simone was a complicated, pitiful woman, and her best friend’s mother.
“All right, Simone. But I need to ask you one more thing. Do you think I will ever have another child that will be as sweet and beautiful as this one? Please say yes, because I think that’s the only way I am goin’ to be able to get through this. Givin’ up my child and actin’ like she was never born is the hardest thing I ever did. I hope that I never have to go through anything half as hard as this again.”
“Ruby Jean, one day you will have a beautiful daughter that you can show the world,” Simone chirped with a level of confidence that she didn’t know she had. “And because of this experience, that child will mean the world to you. She’ll be so special, your life will be almost sacred. Now get on back out there for one or two more dances before I send you home.”
Simone stopped talking for a moment and gave Ruby a concerned look. “You been through a lot tonight so you need to take it easy. You don’t want no brain damage, or have your body go into no kind of shock. So don’t you do no more of them swing dances. Do you think you can hoist yourself up and back into your bedroom window on your own when you go home? If you don’t, I can send Othella home with you so she can help you.”
“I’m fine, Simone. I can make it back into my bedroom window by myself. I been doin’ it for a long time now, and I ain’t never had no problem.”
Ruby spent the next ten minutes dancing. After drinking two more beers, she had to make a bathroom run. When she returned to Simone’s room to use the slop jar, she was saddened to see Simone curled up in her bed rocking the baby to sleep, serenading her with a lullaby that Ruby had never heard.
“I’m fixin’ to go back home now,” Ruby announced.
Simone nodded. “If you can, sneak over here tomorrow night. I’ll make you some peanut brittle,” she replied, waving Ruby away.
Ruby didn’t use the slop jar, and she didn’t return to the living room to dance again. She didn’t even tell any of her friends that she was leaving. She eased out of the kitchen door and went home.
CHAPTER 17
WHEN RUBY ARRIVED HOME, SHE WAS TOO WEAK AND DISORIENTED to climb back into the house through her bedroom window. She stumbled to the backyard. Near the trash cans was a wooden crate that she thought she could use for a step ladder. That didn’t work because the crate was too flimsy to support Ruby’s one-hundred-seventy-pound frame.
Before tonight, climbing through the window had been no trouble. It was a large window and very low to the ground. All she had to do was stand on her toes, grab the windowsill with both hands, hoist herself up, and crawl in like a burglar.
“I wish I’d let Simone send somebody with me to help me get back in this damn window,” Ruby whispered to herself as she looked around the area.
There was not much light from the moon or the one streetlight on the block for her to see much. Not that there was much of anything she wanted to see. There were a lot of trees behind the houses on the block, and in almost every backyard, there was some type of vehicle. Most of the folks owned various models of old trucks and ugly cars. One man even had a wagon and a couple of mules in the garage that he had turned into a glorified barn.
Ruby stood under the moonlight for a few moments, breathing through her mouth. Even though she was in the yard on the side of her family’s home, she had never felt this lost before in her life. Lost was not the only way she was feeling. She felt profoundly sad. But she had experienced sadness before in her life. Like the afternoon that she had watched in horror as a runaway train hit and kill her aunt Della as she was crossing the railroad tracks out by Miller’s Park. Aunt Della had taken Ruby there on a picnic. Had Ruby not skipped and trotted several yards ahead of her aunt, the train would have hit her, too. That tragic event had happened when Ruby was six. But it had been so traumatic, her mind had pushed it so far back into her consciousness that she had only thought about it a few other times before tonight.
And it triggered another grim memory of an incident that had occurred four years ago while she was visiting some of her father’s relatives in Baton Rouge. In broad daylight, she watched an angry white mob burn down the house of a blind black man who was also confined to a wheelchair. Ruby never did find out what that doomed man had done to deserve such a fate. Now she would have another incident to bury in her consciousness, and the thought of this particular one was almost unbearable. “I can’t ... I can’t let them give my baby away,” she said, still whispering as she leaned against the side of the house. Without giving it too much thought, she took a deep breath and started walking back toward Simone’s house. But halfway there, she recalled everything that Simone and Othella had said to her. She didn’t want to bring shame on her family, and she didn’t want people to shun her child. And now she wasn’t even sure that her father, or anybody else, would buy her far-fetched story about a rapist.
It was still warm, which Ruby was thankful for. The sleeves on her thin dress were short. She had left her panties back at Simone’s house, bloodied and ripped down the side where Simone had snatched them off when Ruby was thrashing around on the bed during the final moments of her labor. Since Simone and Othella were petite, neither one of them had any panties large enough to accommodate Ruby’s hefty bottom. She was glad of that now, because when a sudden wind blew up the tail of her dress, she enjoyed the warm breeze on her naked crotch. It helped to ease the soreness in her vagina. Just before she had left Simone’s house, she had plugged up herself with a fresh wad of toilet paper, shoving it up into her vagina as far as it would go so that it wouldn’t slide out. But that had been quite a while ago. She knew that if she didn’t change again soon, she’d drip like a leaky faucet.
Ruby had left her watch at home on her nightstand next to her bed before she went to the party, so she had no idea what time it was. She was even more disoriented now, so she didn’t know how much time had passed since she had started for home. “Lord, let me make it through this night without losin’ my mind. I ... I done lost enough tonig
ht,” she prayed, still whispering.
She rubbed her eyes to wipe away a few fresh tears that she had been unable to hold back. Then she looked up at the darkened sky, wondering why the only thing that stars did was sparkle like diamonds. She forced her mind to dwell on other subjects that were of little or no importance to her other than the fact that they were distracting. Like, what purpose did the moon serve? And, exactly what was God doing these days while she and almost everybody else in the world were behaving so badly? Did He think that by NOT preventing the mess that she was in, she’d benefit from it? The only “benefit” that she could determine so far, was that the consequences for her behavior had made her realize what a stupid fool she’d been. She was sorry that she had screwed around with boys who cared more about their fishing poles and hunting dogs than they cared about her. She had had fun getting fucked inside out, but she had paid a high price for that fun—a price that had no ending. As far as she was concerned, having a beautiful, healthy baby and losing it the same night was the ultimate price to pay for her being such a fool.
Ruby spent more than an hour meandering throughout the backyard vegetable garden that her mother kept such good care of every year. One minute she was feeling sorry for herself. The next minute she was feeling so much anger that she wanted to go back and beat up Othella and Simone.
She got tired and sleepy, not to mention the fact that her entire body was still in shock from giving birth. She thought about going back to Othella’s house again, not to claim her baby, but to spend the night—which was what she should have done in the first place, she thought. She was disappointed that Othella and Simone had not insisted that she do so.
The longer she remained outside, the more she regretted not letting Simone have Othella escort her home to help her climb back in her bedroom window. She made a few more attempts to get herself in, but each time she got so dizzy and weak she almost fainted. On her last attempt, she almost made it. But when she tried to lift her heavy leg up to the windowsill, she fell and landed on her back like a turtle.
By now, Ruby realized she had to enter the house through a door. She didn’t have her key so she had no choice but to knock. But before she could do that, her father, fully dressed and with his best hat on his head, snatched open the front door and clicked on the living room light at the same time.
Anybody who challenged Ruby’s father, Reverend Roebuck Upshaw, was a fool. He was the most respected and feared preacher in the community, and for a variety of reasons. For one thing, he was a large man with a hard, scowling face that rarely displayed a smile. He had a double-barrel shotgun, and he was not afraid to use it. Another reason that he intimidated so many of his peers was because he was very intelligent, especially for a man with just a ninth-grade education. Unfortunately, intelligence generally worked against a person of color in the South at the time.
However, the reverend was smart enough to know when and to whom to show his intelligence. To a lot of white folks, he was “just another nigger.” But to other white folks and almost every black person he knew, he was a very important man. Some of his admirers even thought of him as a visionary. He helped people do their taxes, he doled out financial assistance to those in need, and he had some mysterious, but strong relationships with some of the most powerful white folks in town. Whenever somebody had a problem with the Man, they rushed over to Reverend Upshaw’s house. He was always able to “fix” the problem. A lot of people told him that he resembled the genius Albert Einstein, even though his facial features were definitely the full, fleshy characteristics of a middle-aged black man, and his complexion was as brown as the bark of a pecan tree. But Reverend Upshaw had the same penetrating eyes, the same wild, wiry white hair and bushy black mustache that Einstein had.
The only person who was able to pull the wool over Reverend Upshaw’s eyes was his youngest daughter, Ruby.
“Gal, where the devil have you been?” he roared. “Go yonder in that front yard and get a switch off that chinaberry tree!”
“But, Papa, I was just out walkin’ along Mama’s garden. I couldn’t sleep,” Ruby bleated. Her father blocked the door, but she gently eased around him into the living room. “I wasn’t feelin’ too good.” She winced and added a cough to sound more convincing. “I thought that a walk in the garden in the warm night air would do me some good.” She smiled. Her lips were still dry, so dry that the smile she had just forced made her bottom lip crack. “And it did. I feel better already,” she said, moistening her lip with her tongue, frowning at the faint taste of blood oozing from the crack.
Reverend Upshaw went from roaring like a lion to purring like a kitten. “Oh. I see. Well, was it that same female issue that had you all balled up with pain at the supper table?”
“That’s exactly what it was! That same female issue that ruined my supper!” Ruby said, speaking so fast her words sounded more like gibberish. “Uh-huh. My cramps got worse and worse as the night went on. But I’m feelin’ so much better now.” She blinked and began to move backward toward the door leading out of the living room to the hallway. “I just need to get in the bed... .”
Despite his intelligence, some of the subjects that the reverend avoided discussing were the female-related maladies: pregnancies, menopause (which his wife was currently going through and driving him to distraction), cramps, and that disgusting monthly bloodletting that all women went through. And with a wife and seven daughters, he’d had enough of that to last him a lifetime. However, being a man of God, he didn’t let his personal feelings get in the way of his professional duties. He firmly believed that when members of the black community needed help and comfort, if they couldn’t count on the black church, they couldn’t count on anybody. Despite his feelings about women’s female nature issues, he was a man who appreciated women. He worshipped his wife and his daughters. He also worshipped some of the women in his congregation, and within the community, and in more ways than one....
Ruby had never mentioned it to anybody and she didn’t even like to think about it, but she noticed how her father’s eyes lit up when he saw an attractive woman. She had also never mentioned or thought much about the fact that her father spent the majority of his time making “house calls” to give spiritual comfort to five times more women than men.
Ruby stopped moving toward the door. “I thought you was in the bed, Papa. You had a long day, frettin’ over that tornado and standin’ over that hot grill cookin’ all of them ribs.”
Reverend Upshaw walked up to Ruby and gave her a big hug and then rubbed her back so long and hard, she got very suspicious of his behavior.
“And ... and how come you all dressed up in your black suit, Papa?” Ruby paused and looked off to the side of the room, then to the doorway. She was glad not to see her mother peeping around the corner. She didn’t want her father to see the suspicion in her eyes. And in case he had some in his eyes, too, she didn’t want to see his. “You fixin’ to make another one of your house calls to that juke joint dancin’ lady they call Martha Lou? The one you been visitin’ every week for a month?” she asked, rubbing her belly. She was glad to have something else sordid to focus her attention on, even if it was just for a few moments.
“I was in the bed, but somebody needs my spiritual assistance—and it ain’t Sister Martha Lou,” Reverend Upshaw responded, giving Ruby a gentle pat on her shoulder. “Othella left here a few minutes ago. Simone got another mess on her hands,” he stated.
Ruby gasped. “Oh. What ... what kind of mess? Othella never comes to our house.”
“Well, she came over here tonight!”
“Why? What kind of mess?” Ruby asked again, her voice so low her father could barely hear her. Her heart started thumping in such an aggressive manner that it felt like it was trying to escape. Which is what she was thinking she might have to do! But if Othella had spilled the beans on her, her father would have said something about it immediately. As a matter of fact, had he known that Ruby had given birth to an illegitimate b
aby a couple of hours ago, she’d probably have black and blue marks on every inch of her body by now from a severe whupping. And that would be just the beginning of her punishment.
“Sugar pie, it ain’t nothin’ for you to worry your sweet and innocent self about. But I will tell you one thing, I am so glad you don’t fool around with that Othella and the rest of that clan like some of these kids around here do. Heathens! Every single one of them—especially that Othella. If you had seen the frock she had on when she come to the door—skin-tight britches and a blouse that wouldn’t even cover a baby’s booty. If she ain’t a harlot in the makin’, Mary Magdalene wasn’t either. I—” The reverend stopped and sniffed in Ruby’s direction. “Is that beer I smell on your breath, girl?”
“Beer? No. I don’t drink beer, Papa. Remember when Sister Barker next door told me if I rinsed my hair with beer, it would grow faster? I washed my hair last night after you and mama went to bed.”
Reverend Upshaw nodded. “And where did you get this beer?”
“From Sister Barker next door.” One thing Ruby knew how to do well was to recycle a good lie to be used as many times as possible. She had planted this one in everybody’s head several times already. And she didn’t have to worry about Sister Barker. She was the town drunk and couldn’t remember from one day to the next what she’d said or done.
“I will speak with Sister Barker first thing tomorrow mornin’! But from tonight on, you don’t visit that woman’s house unless you with me or your mama. Now get to bed.” Ruby’s father gave her a dismissive wave. “And if I find out from Sister Barker that you drunk some of that beer, you will be sorry.”
“Okay, Papa.” Ruby was reluctant to leave the room. She had to find out why Othella had come to the house to get some kind of assistance from her father, tonight of all nights. She was quite sure that Simone had not sent Othella to get her father so that he could come administer her some of his spiritual comfort tonight. “Um ... Papa, are you goin’ to tell me why Simone sent Othella to get you?”