by Mary Monroe
“What you got in your titties?” John asked, shaking her. “Huh? I axed, what you got up there in them pretty little ole brown titties?”
She pulled away from him and reached inside her bra to remove the switchblade.
“Hot damn!” one of the other boys shouted when Maureen clicked the blade open.
“Yall better leave me alone if you know what’s good for you. I ain’t scared to use this blade,” she said, suddenly feeling more powerful.
The boys started to close in on her and she lost her nerve. Startled, she fell backwards and dropped the knife. All four of the boys piled on top of her.
Maureen fought with so much fury, two of the boys got tired and pulled back.
“Get a hold of yourself, girl, before somebody gets hurt!” John hollered as he slapped her face repeatedly. The two boys who had moved back stood and watched John and the fourth boy continue to wrestle with her. Maureen managed to get the knife back, and started slashing. She sliced John across his arm, forcing him to stand and attend to his wound. The other boy had his lips on her and was forcing his tongue in her mouth. She bit off the tip of the boy’s tongue and sent him running from the berry patch screaming in agony. She spit the piece of tongue in John’s face as he threw himself back on top of her.
Maureen screamed as John slammed his fist against her face.
The two remaining boys came and held her down, one holding open her legs and the other one pinning her arms down while John raped her. She closed her eyes and stopped screaming. She needed all her strength to endure the pain.
Afterward, she felt John rise, but the boys kept her pinned down.
Something was inserted inside her, not another penis, but the handle of her own knife. She fainted and when she came to, five minutes later, the boys were gone.
45
Asense of doom hung from the southern sky like the sinewy moss from the magnolia tree. From the front window in the upper room, Maureen looked up at the sky. It was just dark enough for her to piece together both the big dipper and the little dipper. A few other faint stars decorated the night like scattered marbles.
She lifted the window and leaned out, focusing her attention on Duquennes Road. The balmy air felt good against her face and neck. She had on her nightgown, which was low cut, flimsy and sleeveless. Her hair was plaited and pinned behind her ears.
Headlights from an oncoming car made Maureen widen her eyes as she gazed up the hill. Her heart began to beat rapidly when she realized it was a police car. The vehicle turned and started moving toward the house.
Big Red brought his dusty squad car to a stop in the front yard and he quickly climbed out. A long thick cigar hung from his lip. His melonlike belly and big butt gave his body a bell shape. His red hair was streaked with gray now. He paused for a minute, removed his hat to brush the hair back from his forehead, and looked up the hill before hastily rearranging his attire. His shirt was buttoned incorrectly and his belt was unbuckled. He retucked the shirt back down inside his pants without fixing the buttons and clumsily did his belt.
Big Red took his time moving to the back of the car, where he gallantly opened the back door on the driver’s side and helped Ruby out. They stood close together and talked quietly. A few times Big Red placed his hand on Ruby’s shoulder and nodded.
Ruby stood back on her legs with her arms folded. She had no shoes on and the long, flowered muumuu she wore had been Big Red’s gift to her one Mother’s Day. Suddenly they stopped talking and glanced around suspiciously. Ruby slapped Big Red on the back, then walked off toward the house. Maureen waited until Big Red returned to the car and started back up the hill before she left the upper room. As soon as he was out of sight, she ran down the stairs to the living room.
“Mama Ruby—” she started calling. Maureen stood in the middle of the floor looking out the window at Ruby fussing with a chicken on the porch. “Mama Ruby, please come in the house,” she whimpered. “What done happened to me ought not to happen to a dog.” Maureen’s lips trembled as she watched Ruby continue to scold the chicken. Finally, Ruby snatched open the screen door and sauntered in. Maureen gasped. The front of Ruby’s dress was covered with blood. “What happened to you?” Her first thought was that somehow Ruby had already heard about what John had done to her and had killed him. “Mama Ruby, you bleedin like a stuck pig! You got blood all over your good dress!” Maureen exclaimed. She remained in her spot, unable to move.
“I is, ain’t I,” Ruby said casually, gliding across the floor.
“Lord, Mama Ruby, what done happened this time?”
“Huh . . . just a little accident . . . nothin serious,” Ruby answered, looking down at her dress. “I sho nuff hope this blood wash out.”
“Mama Ruby, tell me what happened!”
“A accident, that’s all. I had a little run-in with that ole motor-mouth A’rab what live down the road apiece,” Ruby said.
“Old Abdullah? That ole A’rab? I seen him settin on his front porch yestiddy mornin, yestiddy afternoon, and yestiddy evenin. He is always settin on his front porch,” Maureen said.
“He ain’t settin there no more. . . .” Ruby nodded.
“This blood on you—you got blood all over your dress, Mama Ruby.”
“Yeah, but it ain’t my blood,” Ruby replied. She turned to Maureen and blinked. Maureen stared in Ruby’s eyes and bit her lower lip. She followed as Ruby continued across the floor to her bedroom.
“What you been doin while I was gone?” Ruby asked, as she pulled her muumuu over her head. She could not see the odd look on Maureen’s face.
“. . . Nothin.”
“You get my blackberries?” Ruby tossed the muumuu on her bed.
“I forgot.”
“You forgot? Where did you go when you left the house this afternoon with that bowl?”
“I ran into some girls from Kaiser camp and we got to talkin. I plumb forgot to get the berries. I’m sho nuff sorry, Mama Ruby.” Maureen spoke with her head bowed.
Ruby smiled.
“Don’t you worry about em. We’ll get some another day and make us a pie. I declare, I love you to death, Mo’reen. You is such a Godsend. Jesus sho nuff is good to me,” Ruby said proudly. She reached over and caressed Maureen’s chin and became curious when Maureen’s eyes refused to meet hers. “What’s the matter?”
“Mama Ruby, is it anybody in the world you scared of?”
“Not a man, woman, beast, or spirit. Why?”
“I just thought . . . maybe there was somebody or somethin even you wouldn’t go up against.”
“I done cussed out the devil, kicked his ass, bound him to hell and you axin me if there is anybody or anything I’m scared of? Ain’t nothin nobody can make or say that can scare me. Girl, don’t you know I am the link between the Lord and the Dark One. Ain’t nothin in between. Course, I get kind of squeamish when I think about Jews and rapists, but who wouldn’t? Cept other Jews and rapists. Why do you ax?”
Maureen shrugged.
“I seen somethin on the news what kind of reminded me about you. A wild killer.”
Ruby gasped.
“Why would a wild killer remind you about me?”
“I don’t know. They said he was real tough and had kilt a lot of folks, like you.”
“Yeah. Maybe so, we got that in common, but I ain’t wild. Don’t you never think of your mama as wild. That clear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What you gettin at, girl?”
“I just go to wonderin sometime. Sometime I worry about you when you leave the house with Loomis and Fast Black and No Talk to go chastize folks. I keep thinkin one day somebody is goin to get you back.”
“Ain’t nothin can kill me and don’t you never forget that,” Ruby said with conviction. She stood before Maureen in her half-slip and bra, both stained with blood.
“I seen John on my way home just now,” Ruby said. She moved over to her bed and sat down hard and did not see Maureen tremble.
“What did he say, Mama Ruby?”
“He sho nuff was actin odd. Had his daddy’s shotgun with him. Like he was lookin for trouble. Strange thing is, he took off runnin when he seen me settin in back of Big Red’s car.” Ruby looked at Maureen with a puzzled expression on her face. “White folks is so odd,” she said, laughing. She paused as if waiting for Maureen to say something about John. “How come you actin so odd yourself, Mo’reen?”
“I ain’t actin odd,” Maureen mumbled. She moved swiftly across the floor and seated herself next to Ruby. “You say John had his daddy’s shotgun in his hand?”
“Yeah. His hands was shaking like sumac leaves. Poor thing. Sometime I think John don’t know what to do with hisself.” Ruby smiled and cocked her head to the side. Suddenly she turned to face Maureen, placing her arm around her shoulders. “Now, tell me darlin, what you been doin while I was gone?”
“. . . Nothin,” Maureen said in a low, distant voice.
46
Ruby had never had a telephone installed in the house. “If anybody got somethin to say to me, let em say it to my face,” she said. So whenever she or Maureen needed a telephone they walked up to one of the camps or into Miami to use a pay phone.
Maureen had been walking down Duquennes Road fifteen minutes when Big Red came speeding up behind her, his siren going. She stopped in her tracks and sighed with annoyance. Big Red pulled alongside her and jumped out of the car with his hand on his gun.
“Girl, what you doin roamin up and down this road by yourself? I bet Mama Ruby don’t know where you at.”
“I’m eighteen years old, Big Red.”
“Well, act like it. You want some rapist or maniac to snatch you? I got enough on my hands with all them damn Cubans running loose. Shoot. I’ll be bound!”
“I’m just on my way to visit a friend in Miami,” Maureen replied tiredly.
“Who?”
“Nobody you know, Big Red.” Maureen started to walk away.
“Look-a-here, girl. You get in this car and let me carry you on to the city. Your mama been awful tetchy lately.” Big Red walked to the back door on the passenger’s side of his car and snatched it open. “Get in this car!” he ordered. Maureen sighed and obeyed.
Big Red drove like a madman all the way into the city with the siren blaring.
“Where in Miami is you goin, Mo’reen?”
“Drop me off on Peach Street,” she answered.
After he let her off, she took a bus to Patterson Street, where she got out in front of a saloon called the Black Hawk. The Black Hawk attracted mostly merchant seamen and prostitutes, being so close to the docks and the highways. Maureen went to one of two pay phones outside the bar.
She had not been in the booth a minute when several seamen approached and inspected her legs, flashing dollars in her face. She turned her back and pretended to be too involved in her telephone dialing to notice. Loud knocking against the booth made Maureen drop the telephone.
“What in the world—”
She turned to see Fast Black standing with her hands on her hips.
“Mo’reen, you got a dime I can borrow? I want to go in the Black Hawk but I ain’t got no money,” Fast Black said. She was plastered. There was plum-colored lipstick on her teeth and rouge that reached from her cheeks to her brows.
“A dime all you need to get in there?” Maureen asked.
“See, I’m goin to pay for a glass of water with it. They won’t let you stay in there lest you buy somethin. I buy me a glass of water every time I come here until I can latch me onto a sugar man. I can sip on the glass of water till I make a hit.”
“What if I give you a dime and you sip up all your water before you get a sugar man?”
“Then I’ll ax somebody for another dime. You got a dime or not?” Fast Black said impatiently.
Maureen nodded and reached in her pocket, removed a dime, and handed it to Fast Black.
“Who you callin anyway, Mo’reen? A married man?”
“. . . Um . . . no. I’m fixin to call that hairdresser on Bell Avenue to see if I can get her to do somethin to my hair. Put a wave in it or somethin,” Maureen said, running her fingers through her naturally straight hair.
“Oh. Well, I’ll be seein you,” Fast Black said as she followed a mob of seamen into the bar.
Maureen quickly lifted the telephone again and dialed John French’s number.
“Hello,” a young girl’s voice said. John had four younger sisters. Maureen recognized the voice as fifteen-year-old Sukey.
“Hello, Sukey. Is John there?” Maureen spoke in a deeper voice, hoping to divert Sukey’s attention.
“That you, Bonnie Sue?” Sukey asked. Her voice was loud but Maureen could hear other girlish chatter in the background.
“. . . Um . . . yeah. Can I speak to your brother?” Bonnie Sue was John’s girlfriend, a seventeen-year-old blonde everyone expected John to marry. Bonnie Sue was a pretty girl with a passive nature, the ideal southern wife. She was also the daughter of a local politician.
“Hold on, sugar. Let me get him for you. How you been gettin along? We ain’t seen you in a week. What’s cookin, Bonnie Sue?”
“Oh, I been fiddlin around with them cousins of mine from the panhandle,” Maureen replied, glad the gossip had reached Goons about Bonnie Sue’s usual activities.
“You sound kind of funny today,” Sukey commented.
“Must be this head cold I got. Can you get your brother for me now? Mama’s waitin to carry me to the beautician.”
“OK, darlin,” Sukey said graciously. The next voice Maureen heard was John’s.
“Hello there, sweet thang!”
“John, don’t say nothin. Let me do all the talkin. This here is Mo’reen. Go get on yall’s extension so you can talk private,” Maureen instructed. John said nothing to her. She heard him tell Sukey to hang up the phone after he signaled her.
“What the hell you doin callin my daddy’s house, girl?” John said.
“I’m in a heap of trouble and you the only one what can help me,” Maureen said quickly, looking toward the entrance of the bar, praying Fast Black would not come out.
“Girl, if I’m the only one what can help you—you is in trouble!”
“Can you meet me in the bayou in back of my house in a hour? I got to see you, John.”
“Uh huh . . . I figured you’d be wantin to see me again after that little party in the berry patch. Heh heh heh.”
“This is not what you thinkin. I’m fixin to have a baby, John.”
“By who?”
“By you, that’s who. You the only one I been with in two months.”
“What!—why you syphilitic black wench you! You think I’m goin for that?! The way Bobby Boatwright been fuckin you all over the place! Girl, you must be talkin through your asshole, cause your mouth knows better! You lyin whore!”
“You did get me pregnant. Now I want you to meet me in the bayou in one hour,” Maureen said calmly.
“The hell I will!” John screeched.
“The hell you won’t. You don’t be there and I’m goin to blab what you done to me all over Dade County. You ain’t had no business doin what you done to me, John. Beatin me and all.”
“Girl, I just tapped you. I ain’t hurt you.”
“Oh yes you did.”
“Listen . . . um . . . I ain’t meant no harm. Look, when we goin to get together again? I sho nuff enjoyed myself. I see why Bobby Boatwright is so crazy about you! Wooo weee! But don’t you call me talkin about havin no baby by me. That’s frog shit! I ain’t ownin up to no nigger baby. Me with Bonnie Sue fixin to be my wife and all. Her daddy won’t be able to get hisself elected dogcatcher if you was to start blabbin this wild story around! You hear me?”
“Meet me in the bayou in a hour.”
“Ain’t you been listenin to me?!”
Maureen hung up on John.
47
John slapped Maureen down where she stood. She landed in a heap at the b
ase of a palmetto tree deep in the bayou in back of her mother’s house.
“Get up before I stomp a hole in you!” John yelled. He leaned over and slapped her face again.
“Aaaarrrggghh!” she wailed. They were too deep in the wilderness for anyone to hear.
She moaned and struggled to get up, holding onto the tree. Before she had full control of her senses, John pushed her back down with his foot. She landed on her back and he pressed his foot on her stomach and pushed.
“Aaaarrrggghhh!” she screamed, writhing in agony.
“Shet up!” John ordered. He fell to the ground and covered Maureen’s mouth with his dirty hand. “There’s quicksand all over the place out here. And in the swamps, there’s gators! I’ll shove your black ass in the quicksand or feed you to the gators if you don’t shet up!” he threatened. Maureen nodded and John jerked her up by the arm and leaned her against the tree. “Don’t you never call me on the telephone again with your nigger woman’s lies!” he exclaimed, slapping her face hard.
“Please don’t hit me no more, John,” Maureen begged.
“I just come out here to get you straight. I ain’t ownin up to no nigger baby. You go around tellin them lies on me and I’m goin to sic the Klan on you and Mama Ruby and all the rest of you niggers out here in Goons.”
“I just need money,” Maureen sobbed. “I don’t want to have no half-white baby. I ain’t got no money to get myself took care of . . . please help me. That’s the least you can do.”
“You is as nutty as a nigger-toes nut pie if you think I’m givin you money to get rid of some other man’s baby.”
“All I need is five hundred dollars. There’s a use-to-be doctor in Miami what’ll take care of me so I won’t be pregnant no more . . . please.”
John looked her in the eyes and shook his head, then turned to leave. He disappeared into a patch of bushes, and Maureen slid back down on the ground and drew her knees up against her chest. She sat for just a few seconds, listening. John’s footsteps were loud and fast. Suddenly, she heard him scream.