Have No Shame

by Melissa Foster

  “No, they won’t. You should’ve seen the spears they shot at me in the market. You’da thought I was the one who beat up Thomas Green. And besides, I don’t want pity.”

  Mama leaned back against the tree, once more. “There are bigger things on the horizon. Pity isn’t so bad. You’re young, you’re just startin’ out in your life. Pity will endear them to you and you will come out on top.”

  “Are you worried, Mama? About the boycott?”

  Her eyes darted back toward the house and fields. She nodded. “Yes, but you and I, we aren’t gonna be in it. We’re behind the scenes, and we’ll stay there. Maggie’s gonna stay in New York. I’m more worried about someone findin’ out about it ahead of time. If anyone finds out we’re involved,” her eyes met mine, and held them, “well, let’s just not let them.”

  “Then why should I stay with Jimmy Lee? Can’t I come home? I feel like a lamb tied to a tree.”

  “I’m not givin’ you up like a sacrificial lamb,” she laughed. “If you support Jimmy Lee, he’ll have no reason to doubt your motivations. If you argue with him, work against him, leave him, he’ll have reason to be concerned and may go nosin’ around. The last thing you do to a snake is hit it with a rake. It’ll turn on you faster than you can run away.” She leaned forward and softened her tone. “You know I love you, and I’d bring you home today, but there are many lives at stake here, and we’re too deep in to turn back.”

  “Do you wish you could? Turn back, I mean?”

  “From bein’ involved? No, but with other things—”

  “Meanin’?” I could see somethin’ else festerin’ in the worry of her hands on the edge of the rocker.

  “I wish I could turn back time and stand up for my children more.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The hammer came down a week later, swift and skillful. Mama came into town and was havin’ a cup of coffee at the diner when we heard shoutin’ outside.

  “What are those boys up to now?” Jean said as she walked toward the front window. “I swear, there’s more fightin’ in this town—” She peered out front and called for me, wavin’ her hand to hurry me along.

  “What is it?” I set down my order pad and excused myself from my customer. Mama got up from the counter and followed me to the window.

  Down the street, Jimmy Lee stood red-faced, chest heavin’, before two men in dark suits who stood in front of Mr. Mackey’s law office. Mr. Carlisle was rushin’ up the sidewalk from the direction of the store. Jimmy Lee’s voice rang out, echoin’ between the buildin’s. I could not make out the words, or maybe I didn’t want to.

  “Oh, sweetheart, your man’s in a bit of trouble, isn’t he?” Jean took my hand and walked me toward one of the booths.

  I glanced at Mama. Pity. How could she have known?

  “It’s okay, Alison. You just sit here and we’ll find out what’s goin’ on.” Jean looked at Mama.

  “Yes, right. I’ll go see if I can calm things down.”

  “Mama?” I worried that Jimmy Lee might get upset if she intervened. Mama held her hand up, as if to say she had it under control. She pulled her shoulders back and walked out the door toward the ruckus.

  Customers rose from their seats and gathered in the front window, watchin’ the scene unfold. I remained seated, my head bowed. I would accept that pity with grace, just as Mama had advised.

  A knock at the back door startled me.

  “I’ve got it, hun. It’s gonna be Tinsel, come for his daddy’s food. He’s so cute.” She hurried off and I knew that if it wasn’t Tinsel, if it was Patricia, I’d have missed my chance at a letter from Jackson. I sat and listened to my husband’s life fallin’ apart out front and my worry mounted about what was transpirin’ out back. Mr. Bingham’s ravaged body came to me, strengthenin’ my resolve. My husband deserved whatever they doled out to him.

  The bell over the door jingled as Mama came back into the diner. She walked strong and tall toward the booth, and slid in across from me. She leaned in close and whispered, “They’re pressin’ charges for what he did to Thomas Green. Those are attorneys, here to meet with Thomas’ family. I didn’t hear too much, but from what I gathered, Jimmy Lee caught wind of their visit and, well, you know, sort of lost it.”

  “What should I do?”

  “Nothin’. You do just what you’re doin’. Tonight, don’t bring it up. Let him stew. He’ll talk when he’s ready. Be as invisible as you can. The more you pry, the angrier he’ll get. He needs to know you believe in him and that he’s not alone.”

  “But I don’t believe in him. What he did was wrong.”

  “I know.” She took hold of my hand. “Now is not the time to show your strength, now is the time to make your husband love you."

  The shoutin’ outside the diner quieted. Jean moved toward the front of the diner. “Okay, people. Sit down and eat. The show’s over.” She wrangled customers back to their seats and brought me a cup of tea.

  “I’m okay, Jean, really.”

  “You have a lot on your family’s dinner plate right now, Alison. Why don’t you take the afternoon off and go relax.”

  “Relax?” I no longer knew what that word meant.

  Before I even got inside the apartment that afternoon, Jimmy Lee was askin’ me questions.

  “Finally. Where have you been?”

  I set my purse on the table and stood by the door, weighin’ his mood. “I was at work.” It took all my strength not to let him know how embarrassed I was, or how angry.

  “Those niggers hired lawyers.”

  Should I act surprised? I was glad he’d been caught. I didn’t have a clue how to respond, but I didn’t have to decide, because in his next breath, he told me everything.

  “They’re pressin’ charges for beatin’ up that little shit, Thomas Green.”

  And Mr. Bingham?

  “My uncle’s lawyer says it’ll never stick,” he fumed.

  His eyes were glassy, open wide like a crazed animal, his hair disheveled. I almost felt sorry for him—until I thought of Mr. Bingham, Albert, and Thomas. I walked over to the couch where he sat and lowered myself down on the far end. I hoped the charges would stick, and I swallowed the urge to tell him so.

  “So, now, I go to work and I come home. He said they’d be watchin’ me, or some shit like that.”

  “Okay,” was all I could manage. Home? At least he wouldn’t be at that dirty bar, if, in fact, that was even where he’d been hangin’ out.

  “Alison, I know I haven’t been the best husband in the world, and I’m sorry.”

  How did Mama know? “It’s okay,” I whispered.

  “No, no it’s not. I haven’t been home, and you’re all pregnant and everything. I promise I’ll be better. No more goin’ out for drinks, no more late nights. I’ll be home every night on time.”

  Because you have to be.

  Jimmy Lee sprang to his feet when someone knocked on the door, his eyes wide and fear-filled. Every muscle in his body clenched.

  He looked out the window. “Police.”

  Police! I hadn’t thought the situation through. Of course they’d come for him. Panic pounded in my chest and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck prickled. “What do we do?”

  He put his hands on his hips, then crossed them over his chest, and blew out a long breath. “Answer the door.”

  We stood a foot apart, eyes locked on each other. He reached for me and I clamored into his arms, unexpected tears fillin’ my eyes.

  “I love you,” he said.

  “I love you, too.” I was shocked by my need to hold onto him. I felt like a piece of me was bein’ arrested with him. He pulled away from me and went to the door.

  “Ma’am.” Officer Chandler stood in the doorway, noddin’ at me as he spoke; his partner stood silently beside him. “Jimmy Lee, we gotta take you in.”

  Jimmy Lee nodded. I ran to his side and wrapped my arms around him. I might not be in love with him, but at that moment, I realized th
at I did love him, and it hurt like hell to listen to Officer Chandler give him his Miranda Warnin’ and to see Jimmy Lee’s shoulders roll forward and his head hang low.

  Jimmy Lee stared at the floor. “Yes, sir. I understand. Yes, sir.” He spoke without lookin’ at me. “Alison, call Uncle Billy.”

  I picked up the phone as the door closed behind them. I stood with the phone in my tremblin’ hand, the magnitude of what he’d done pressin’ in on me. I was married to a felon. My husband was goin’ to jail.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “Mr. Carlisle? This is Alison. Jimmy Lee’s just been taken to the police station.” Tears flowed steady and warm down my cheeks as I pressed the phone to my ear. Why was I so darn upset? It made no sense. I should be happy that he was out of my way. There would be no threat to me as long as he was gone, and still, I was torn, and scared, and alone.

  “Thank you. We’ll take care of it,” he answered.

  “Should I go to the police station?” I was already thinkin’ ahead about callin’ Mama and havin’ her drive me there.

  “No, you stay put. We’ll take care of it and bring him home.” Jimmy Lee’s uncle spoke confidently.

  I hung up the phone and called Mama.

  “Hello?” My father’s voice caught me off guard.

  “Daddy?”

  “Pixie?”

  He knew. I could hear it in his tone. “Hi, Daddy, is Mama there?”

  “Are you okay? Do you want me to come get you, bring you home for a bit?”

  Yes, God yes! “No, I’m okay. I just need to talk to Mama.”

  “They’ll get him off, Pix, you know they will. He’ll be back home before you know it.”

  That’s all I need. Daddy was bein’ positive because that’s what he thought I wanted. I felt guilty acceptin’ Daddy’s careful coddlin’ when I knew I should be fessin’ up to the truth of my feelin’s.

  “Those damn Negros, they’re bitin’ off more than they can chew with Jimmy Lee Carlisle.”

  “Daddy! They didn’t do anything wrong.” Damn it. Why can’t I do what Mama told me to do? I listened to Daddy’s heavy breath come through the phone. “Sorry, Daddy, I mean, I don’t know what I mean. I’m all confused. Can I please just talk to Mama?”

  My father didn’t say a word. He set down the phone and I listened to his heavy footsteps retreat on the wooden floor.

  “Alison? Are you alright, honey?”

  “Yes. I think I made Daddy mad, though. They arrested Jimmy Lee. They took him in!” My words fell fast and panicky from my lips. “He told me to call his uncle, Billy, which I did. What should I do now?”

  “Alison, take a deep breath. Calm down. It’s gonna be fine.”

  “Okay,” I said, and then did as she asked.

  “What’s his uncle doin’?”

  “He told me to stay home and he’d take care of it. I have no idea what that means—get a lawyer, I guess. Mama, Jimmy Lee is in jail.” I rubbed my belly. “I’m not ready for this. This is too much.”

  “Alison, grab a chair and sit down.”

  She waited while I settled myself onto a kitchen chair.

  “Now, listen to me. You let Mr. Carlisle handle this and you go along with your life just as if Jimmy Lee was still home. You eat breakfast and lunch, go to the diner, whatever it is you do, do it.”

  “But, everyone knows. Daddy already knew!”

  “Yes, they do, and that won’t change no matter what you do, so the best thing to do is just go on with your daily life. Do you want me to come over?”

  “No. Daddy needs you there. I’m just scared, Mama. I feel like I’m caught in a trap. I’ve got all this stuff goin’ on behind his back, and now this. I wish I could just go to sleep and wake up to everything bein’ normal again.”

  I pictured Mama pushin’ her hair behind her ear and crinklin’ her forehead, stuck between wantin’ to take care of her daughter and tellin’ her to do the right thing. I didn’t look forward to that kind of maternal quandary.

  “Normal wasn’t great, Alison, it just felt that way because you were blissfully ignorant, like we all were. We walked around with blinders on, but you do have a choice.” She lowered her voice. “You don’t have to be involved in any of it. You can turn away and never look back.”

  She wasn’t bein’ condescendin’ or makin’ me feel like I was weak. Mama was doin’ what any mother would—offerin’ genuine support that carried through her tone and wrapped itself around me like her lovin’ arms. Even so, she didn’t know how wrong she was.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  My heart leapt with the ringin’ of the phone. I sat up in bed, still encased in a sleep-induced fog.

  “Pixie, are you alright? Mama told me about Jimmy Lee.” Maggie didn’t give me time to respond. “About time, huh?”

  “Maggie.” I sat up and tried to wrap my mind around why I was hopin’ it was Jimmy Lee. “He’s my husband. This isn’t really good news.” Except, it kinda is.

  “I’m sorry, you’re right, but it does clear the path. The boycott is right around the corner, and it’ll be easier with him out of the way.”

  “You shouldn’t be callin’. You can’t afford it,” I said.

  “This is different, Pix. It’s one phone call. I’d go into debt to make sure you’re alright. Don’t ya’ know that yet?”

  I was comforted by Maggie’s words, and wishin’ I could chance a phone call to Jackson. Maggie’s call was one thing, but a call to Jackson would leave a trail that could only end in trouble when Jimmy Lee saw the phone bill.

  “The meetin’ went well. We’ve got a system set up to disseminate information, and I don’t think anyone knows about the effort. Mr. Kane was brilliant. What’s happenin’ up there?”

  “They’re plannin’ a march in South Carolina over the weekend, to help integrate one of the schools. I’m thinkin’ about goin’.”

  “Maggie! You promised you wouldn’t do anything dangerous.” I threw my legs over the side of my bed. The apartment was silent around me, the sun peerin’ in through the bedroom curtains. I thought of Jimmy Lee sittin’ in a jail cell, and though I had been emotional about him bein’ taken away yesterday, I felt no sorrow today. I didn’t miss him. I didn’t worry. I knew his uncle would take care of him. I finally began to see how little room there had been for me in his life from day one of our marriage, and now I no longer cared.

  “It’s fine, Pix. I won’t go if it looks like there’s gonna be trouble.”

  “There’ll be trouble alright, Maggie. Hey, you knew about Mama. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I was worried about you. You and Daddy are so close.”

  “Were so close.”

  “Oh, Pix, no. What’s happened?” I pictured Maggie’s eyebrows comin’ together, and that worried look passin’ over her face.

  “Nothin’ happened, really. I’m just not the same little girl I once was, and some of the things Daddy does, well, they’re irkin’ me more and more. I’m havin’ a hard time keepin’ my mouth shut.”

  “Oh, no, Pix. Don’t do what I did. It’s not worth it. Daddy doesn’t mean to be the way he is. He’s just doin’ what he was brought up to do and to believe. Don’t let this come between you.” She paused. “I miss him. I miss our family.”

  “I know. I do, too,” I said, and I meant it. “I wonder if they’re gonna nail Jimmy Lee for beatin’ up Albert too, or killin’ Mr. Bingham?”

  Maggie was silent for a moment. “I hope they do,” she said, then quickly added, “I’m sorry. I know he’s your husband, but—”

  “It’s okay. I’m so conflicted about all of this, but if I weren’t married to him, I’d want the right thing to happen. How’s Jackson?” I squeezed my eyes shut, prayin’ she wouldn’t think too much about why I’d asked.

  “He’s doin’ really well. He’s goin’ to the march, too. He’s enmeshed more deeply than I am on the outside, so he keeps us all up to date on the movements he attends.”

  My heart sank.
“He goes to marches and things?”

  “Yeah, he goes to most of them. He’s got a huge followin’ and he’s really rallied the folks across five states. Who knew a leader would come out of Forrest Town? Crazy, right?”

  “Yeah, crazy. Hey, Maggie, I gotta run. Patricia is bringin’ me the meetin’ information when she picks up her husband’s lunch today at the diner. Love you, and call me the second you get back from the march. I know you can’t really afford it, but just a quick call. I wanna know you’re okay.”

  The order for lunch wasn’t called in that mornin’, and I was surprised when there was a knock at the back door. I swung the door open, expectin’ to see Patricia, but she wasn’t the one who showed up that afternoon. A middle-school-aged boy with darker skin was bent over, leanin’ on his knees, pantin’ like he’d been runnin’ for too long. He looked up at me with eyes so big and white they were unsettlin’.

  “Mr. Green, the father of the boy who was beat up, is missin’,” he said.

  “What do you mean missin’?”

  He stood, pushin’ his hands into his sides as he panted out an answer. “Didn’t come home last night. Everyone’s worried.”

  Oh, no. My heart slammed into my ribs, chasin’ a chill up my arms. “Where’s Patricia?” I asked, then looked back over my shoulder for Jean, who was busy at the cash register.

  “She’s at home, ‘fraid to leave. Everyone’s lookin’ for him.” He looked frantically up and down the alley. “I gotta go.” He ran away, leavin’ me starin’ after him, frightened and feelin’ useless. I prayed that Mr. Green was okay, but I knew otherwise. Mr. Bingham. The river.

  “Jean,” I called as I made my way to the front of the diner. “I’m not feelin’ so well, do you mind if I go?”

  She was at my side in seconds. “Are you okay? Want me to get Joe to drive you home?”

  “No, I’m okay, just a little off. I think I need to rest. This whole thing with Jimmy Lee has me tied in knots.” Jimmy Lee. If somethin’ happened to Mr. Green, then at least this time it wasn’t at the hands of my husband.