My retarded cousin Neckbone rocked next to Grandeddy, mumbling, Lets go in the car and ride, ride Grandeddy ride.
Grandeddy let Neckbone wear his overalls with a clean shirt and some dress shoes, and he wore the same suit he wore to Granmamas funeral.
Devon and Gretal stood beside Deddy like they were closer family to him than us.
Us kids stood with Mama and the aunts and their kids. Mamas face had been stern, a show of everything her and Deddy had said about LelandThink he better than everyone else. There was no sign of the passion that I had seen from the market stalls, the embrace, the sound of lips kissing on the other side of the bathroom wall. The woman I had seen through keyholes was invisible at his grave.
With her hands resting quietly on another unborn Blackburn, I wondered how she could so easily forget himpeace, she must have thought, untangled from her own messes, she must have thought. To be numb and pretend must have been her only comfort.
Three other huddles of people were there burying their dead. Their moaning, carried by the wind, swept over Uncle Lelands grave. Reverend Richards stood quiet, trying to still his mind before moving his congregation to a more mournful noise than the other groups in the cemetery. He searched his Bible for a passage to whip Mama and my aunts into a frenzy of tears.
In these times when young men are being taken away from us like love stripped fresh from the breast of a new mother . . . it is hard not to think about death when we are scrubbing somebodys floor and not making enough to feed our babies, when we are at home trying to love our babies and they are showing us the evil in their hearts.
Mama and my aunts in unison, Amen.
It is hard not to feel like the life around us is full of death, but look around, look around! The Lord said, where two or three . . . I say two or three are gathered for me, there . . . I say there, I shall be.
Amen! Say it!
Reverend Richardss voice echoed off the granite. Brotha Lacey is with my God. Gone home to glory land. Glooooryhallelujah. He done laid his burden down.
Amen, hallelujah, preach now . . .
I heard moans coming up from the group of mourners behind me, who were there to bury some young man. They cried and yelled out loud at the sound of ropes lowering his casketsome black soldiers body resting in balance over his graveand I remembered seeing on TV the bodies, stiff, in camouflaged hard hats, being dragged out of the death of a hotVietnamese jungle. I remembered my teacher Mrs. Farrell, her eyes swollen when we came in from recess and she was leaving for the day, on the verge of tears, not able to speak. The principal came and told us that her son was killed in Nam. And I remembered Granmama kissing my three-year-old mouth with both of her lips, then blowing on my cheeksand then her face in that casket, her lips sewn shut. I started to cry for Uncle Leland, who would never smile that smile again, and for Granmama. I could still feel her chest against my ear, but in this gathering of family members, I felt untouchable.
Reverend Richardss voice came back, For there is nothing hid which shall not be manifested, neither was any thing kept secret, but that it should come abroad. And all the aunts cried out loud.
I remembered the words of that verse I found in Granmamas Bible: I had many things to write, but I will not with ink and pen write unto thee: but I trust I shall shortly see thee, and we shall speak face to face.
I turned to where I had circled it in Mamas Bible, and while the aunts were fanning to keep her calm, I tore it out, and took some comfort in knowing that when I was dead, I could tell Granmama about the things that welled up inside my head like pus in a wound.
That night I dreamed about Granmama shoveling in her backyard. She was looking for the flower bulbs that she had planted that didnt come up, and every time she turned over a piece of dirt, there was a hand or an arm. I walked off her back porch and tried to talk to her, but she couldnt hear me, she just kept shoveling like she couldnt see that she was disturbing graves.
I woke up sweating, and remembered a moment when I was five years old and sick with some kind of flu that made meache between my legs. I pressed on my temples to stop the blood from surging through that part of my brain, to shut it all down before I vomited.
In the silence of my sleep I allowed my mind to step gently into the darkness of my memories. I was five, but I couldnt remember, and so I ran through songs, images of those days with still nothing but almost audible shadows, objects biting and pinching at my insides.
I managed to get myself to the closet to get my jacket and my shoes without waking LaVern or Towanda, and I crept quietly out the back door and climbed the stairs to Devons flat.
It was before sunrise. The light of the moon washed over backyards and alleys. I tapped timidly at first, then frantically, on Gretals bedroom window, still floating in the numbness of my dreams.
When she opened the window, she looked at me with eyelids still crusty. Odessa, girl, what you doin?
I didnt know what I had come for, until I opened my mouth to say to her, Where is my Nakie doll, Gretal? You stole it.
Girl, be quiet, you talkin out of your head like you crazy.
I climbed through the window, my skinny legs like tree branches in shadow to the moon. I went over to her toy box, rummaged through years worth of doll arms, cars, and cookie crumbs, until I found my Nakie, still bloodstained. There I rocked Granmamas quilted doll and held it close, with shame and fear that I couldnt place.
Gretal sat watching me. She rocked nervously and asked, You believe in God? If you believe in God, you dont have to worry, well see Leland one day. She kept rambling nervously about her understanding of death, until I was asleep on the floor.
She didnt tell anybody how weird I had acted that night, but she also didnt hang out with me at all that school year.
I was coming apart, like the stitching on my Nakie, who I now kept hidden in the back pocket of my jeans.
12
John 3:16
Winter came and froze the ground, and then spring softened it. The more things changed around me, the more I changed, until I could barely recognize myself. Regardless of the changes in me, the school year ended as it usually did. In June, Mama and Deddy reopened Leland's tavern and his neighborhood grocery and renamed them Blackburn's Bar & Grill and Blackburn's Market. Mama ran the store on one corner of Delmar and Goodfellow, and Deddy ran the tavern across the street.
That summer we went from being a family of nine who traveled in an old Country Squire station wagon to a family of tencounting the new baby that Mama was going to have any day. We owned a new black Cadillac and a white van with a desert landscape painted on the side. Mama and Deddy just stepped in and made money off the places Leland had spent hiswhole grown-up life building, and Deddy was finally getting what he wanted.
Mama told me, You gotta do right around here so Godll bless this house and yo new little brother.
Her words these days had a tone of revival in them. She pretended as though the sadness had faded in her, and left the hope of a better life with Deddy. Deddy could now afford to help Devon pay rent in a new apartment down the street and make our house into an upstairs-and-downstairs house. Mama was so glad to see Devon and Gretal go.
Loni, now that you can afford to rent Devon her own apartment, why dont you just do that? Devon was twenty-two years old now, and Deddy still took care of her like she was sixteen.
He was so proud of what he had that it looked like he got taller that summer.
I aint got to ask nobody for nothin now. Every mothafucka gonna be beholden to me.
He was grinning all the time, and when I came into a room behind him, I could smell the residue of musk left by his new confidence.
That day Gretal went back and forth up the porch steps to get her boxes of clothes and dolls and never looked at me, and I didnt confront her about it. I had scared her that night, and I had scared myself.
When Deddy had gotten all their stuff in the van, he sent Lamont and Roscoe down the street to help Devon unpack. He went down to
the basement and got his sledgehammer, took it to the wall to make a doorway to the upstairs. Mama clapped and cheered him on: Thats right, Loni, tear it down! Tear it down!
The upstairs was an exact duplicate of the downstairs.Deddy turned the kitchen into a bedroom for Towanda. Lamont and Roscoe shared a bedroom, LaVern insisted on having the big bedroom right above Mama and Deddys room, and Benson and Daryl got to sleep in what used to be Devon and Gretals living room. The room where us girls had slept was now a dining room with new carpet, a big wooden table, and a wooden cabinet with glass doors. Mama made herself clear: You see this, see how nice this dining room is? Dont go in it. When you want to eat, eat in the kitchen like you been doin. The improvements to the house were superficial. Some things got a fresh covering of carpet or wallpaper, but each piece of torn linoleum, each cracked and stained wall, was the imprint of an incident, and new clothes and furniture couldnt change that for me.
My sisters and brothers moved up to their new bedrooms. They seemed to have a new respect, or a new hope for Deddy, that I just couldnt muster up. I moved down to the basement. It was that, or share a room with LaVern, which hardly seemed worth it, since she was never going to stop acting like I was cramping her style.
She told Mama, I cant sleep in the same room with her anymore because she makes me itch.
I was sick of her anyway, and tired of looking at her hair ribbons and bottles of perfume on the dresser.
Every morning that summer, Mama wouldnt let me go to the store to help; she only took Roscoe, saying he would keep her from having to stand on her pregnant feet so much. She said I was better off watching the boys than getting in the way.
You too young to really help by ringin up things on thecash register. Besides, I dont want you down there eatin up all the profit.
I stayed home with Benson, who was about to turn six, and Daryl, who was two years old now and was not only walking but repeated every awful thing he ever heard. If I slapped his hand for touching something, he wouldnt cry but hardened his face. Im gonna get a knife and kill you!
One morning, I stopped Towanda before she could escape out the back door and off to band camp.
Towanda, could you help me do the dishes?
I caint. I have to catch up with Lamont. Have you ever tried to run with a tuba?
Maybe I could come with you and bring Benson and Daryl.
Odessa, you know Mama dont want you leavin the house with them.
We paused for a second, and she recognized something familiar in my eyes. She recognized for a moment that I had changed, grown, since the last time she paused to talk to me. I saw her struggle with the conflict of her favorite saying, Every man for himself.
She sat her tuba down at the door and said, Im always early, so I got a few minutesten minutes, to be exact, but this is the first and last time, Odessa. Its your turn to be the older kid watching the younger kids.
She hustled to scrape plates. She picked up the boys, stood them both up, and dusted them off like dishes.
Things change, Odessa, and you have to get used to them like everybody else.
Its just real different around here, Towanda.
Yeah, this time last summer you and LaVern and Roscoe were tryin to figure out how to live with Mama sending yallto summer Bible school down the alley at Ms. May Johns house.
We both laughed.
She was trying to save money on snack food, I think.
I laughed and looked over at Benson, who was still picking at the plate of bacon.
Yeah, I remembered, and we thought Benson was gonna be one of Jerrys kids, the way he was walking like he needed leg braces.
We both laughed at our familys backwardness.
But it was all an act. That was so stupid. Then the clinic thought his bones were deformed because he was drinking too much milk.
I was enjoying her company, and glad that she had started a conversation.
Odessa, remember that day that Mama was out back hanging clothes after taking Benson to the clinic? Well, I wasnt home, thank God, but yall were down the alley, singing the Lords Prayer so yall could get your juice and windmill cookies and come home?
Yeah, then Mama noticed the refrigerator light on.
She ran to the screen door, and it was locked.
We both laughed hysterically, recounting what Mama had told us, and what I had seen. The two of us in unison repeating Mamas words, Benson sat down at the kitchen table and politely poured, and drank our milk for the week. He drank the whole gallon one cup at a time.
I can hear Mama tryn to sweet-talk him, Come on, Mamas little scout. Come on, Benson baby.
Girl, you lucky you werent there. That was a long wait on the steps, with us locked out and him . . . I was starting to get irritated now, thinking about the whole thing. How Mamaspent so much time and attention on the boys before she and Deddy got the store and tavern.
But Towanda continued, lost in the humor of the story. Remember, Roscoe thought Benson was possessed, because he started vomiting milk in clear liquid and white chunks. Thats when Mama kicked the screen in and cried, Goddamn your little soul.
Yeah, he sat on the porch repeating the verse he had to memorize for the summer, John 3:16For God so loved the world, he gave his only begotten son, so that whosoever believeth in him shall not perish, but have ever lasting life. Amen.
She finished drying the dishes, and I let the water down the drain.
The dishes were done, and I was back to feeling lonely. Yeah, last summer was crazy, but at least everybody was here.
Like who? Who aint here who was here last summer? We just all have stuff to do, Odessa.
Well, Uncle Leland for one. . . . I hate this summer.
Well, grow up, Odessa. Our family is crazy. Fightin and killin each other, and the kids have to just find their own way sometimes. If you bored, find somethin to do like join the track team or somethin, then you wont be stuck, and Mama will have to figure out somethin else for the babies.
She had slipped out of our conversation, back into her matter-of-fact self. In two moves she shooed Benson out of the kitchen, slung Daryl into the playpen, and grabbed her tuba. See you later, alligator, and she was gone.
There was only one day all summer when I wasnt trapped. Mama let me go to the store when Towanda was sick withstomach cramps and stayed home. Despite Mamas concern that I would eat up all the profit, I sat on a stool behind the counter and ate as much as I could in Lelands old store. I stuffed my face with what I felt Mama and Deddy had no right to. Whenever Mama went to the meat counter to slice baloney or braunschweiger and Roscoe was sweeping, I snatched a bag of Fritos off the clip and a Hostess cupcake off the shelf. I took a handful of corn chips and a big bite of cupcake, getting the salt and chocolate mashed up enough to swallow. The chips scratched the back of my throat, but I hurried and filled my mouth again. I did the whole snack in three mouthfuls, and I had five snacks that morning.
At lunchtime Mama had Deddy cross the street from the tavern to watch the store while she ran me home. I insisted that I was still hungry and took home a baloney sandwich. She was too busy that day with the store and the tavern to hit me or yell. She just kept her eyes on the road and said, I caint have you eatin all the profit.
13
Mulberry Tree
Ihad gotten tired of changing diapers and begging to go places with Mama or Aint Fanny or somebody, so I just started doing whatever the hell I wanted, and I didn't care if Mama got tired and told me to go get her a switch so she could whup my butt. The aunts told Mama that I was getting sassy and needed to have my butt whupped for breakfast, lunch, and dinner so I could even come close to acting like I had some sense.
One Saturday Mama called me in off the vacant lot where one of the nicest brick family flats in our neighborhood once stood. She yelled, asking me why I hadn't done something she had asked me to. She stopped pressing Towanda's hair, took the hot comb off the eye, and got after me with her bare hand.
"You think you too t
ough to cry."
"No, ma'am," I answered with a straight face, not budging while her greasy hand slapped my sweaty thighs. When shewas done, I went back outside to the vacant lot, still without doing what she had asked. I felt justified in sharpening my stare, my tongue. Till now, I had no reason and no will with which to question my mother, but so many things had been lost.
To keep it certain that I was the child and she the adult, she took to slapping me and complaining about my behavior. This kept her innocent in my defiance.
I went to the lot and climbed up in the mulberry tree that over the years had grown as tall as the houses. I waited for somebody to come out and play. The branches were thick and low, the trunk was thick and sturdy, and the layers of branches went high enough for me to see backyards and the tops of garages.
I saw Mama come out on the back porch and yell for me, and I ignored her. I knew she couldnt see my brown face and legs mixed up in those dark green leaves, brown-gray limbs, and black-purple berries. I wasnt going to go in so she could make me feed Daryl or sweep up the hair, saying, When you see somethin that needs done around here, just do it! And then shed get ready to leave for Saturday night at the tavern, and Id be stuck with the little brothers I loved, but hated.
When no one came out to the lot to fetch me, I ate mulberries, and when I felt like puking mulberries, I threw some, trying to hit the same spot on the bricks of the alley. When I had made a big stain, I climbed down and wiped off the seeds and remembered Lelands blood on the wood floor in our hallway. I tried walking over the spot without feeling the stain. I smiled and pretended to be simply walking by, but each time I stepped on the stain, I heard Lelands head hit and crack on the hard floor.
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