Bell Bottom High: Book 1: Freshman Fears

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Bell Bottom High: Book 1: Freshman Fears Page 4

by B. J. Williams


  I gathered up the newspaper sections and handed them to Lena. “Here’s the first part of the article. It basically tells you about the founder and why she started the program. And in the second part of the paper, they interview some of the teenager girls that are currently living there as well as some past participants in the program.”

  “So, what do you think?” Lena asked, looking scary-eyed.

  I sighed, thinking of how I was going to answer. “I think it looks like a decent place to live. And you’ll be able to take some academic classes while you’re there. So you won’t get too far behind in your studies.”

  Lena was listening to me and reading from the Louisiana Morning Star at the same time. I’d never seen Lena read that fast in her life. I actually remembered Lena being a slow reader from the few classes we’d shared, but today was different.

  I was nervously rubbing a hand up and down my arm while a thousand thoughts ran through my head. I figured everything would be different for her now. I could only imagine how she was feeling. That’s why I was planning to be a virgin until I got married.

  Lena peered into my eyes like a rabbit caught in headlights in the middle of the night. “Thank you for getting this stuff for me. This is incredible. It says that due to the rising number of teenage pregnancies, a middle-aged mother of three started the government grant-funded program in 1970. In three years, the facility has grown from housing five girls, to housing over twenty females at any given time. They all range in ages from eleven to eighteen years old.”

  “That’s what it says.”

  She continued, “And Mary’s Shelter provides a very structured program including free room and board, clothing, and educational assistance for the duration of their pregnancies. Once a baby is delivered, the mothers are returned to their respective homes or required to find other places to live,” Lena said, glancing up from the paper. “That does it. I’ve made up my mind. Tomorrow’s Friday, and I’m going to contact them to see if they’ll take me.”

  Shifting on the bed, I said. “Aren’t you afraid of leaving home and being on your own in a strange place?”

  Lena dropped her head for a second and fiddled with her hands before meeting my penetrating eyes. “Of course, I’m scared to death. How can you ask me something like that?”

  “I was just wondering, because you seem kind of calm about all of this,” I responded, with the wave of a hand.

  “Well, you don’t know how many tears I’ve cried or how many nights I’ve been awake in my bed wondering how to deal with all of this.”

  “Then why are you running away?” I asked, inching to the edge of the bed.

  “Because I don’t have a choice,” Lena griped, shivering like the temperature had suddenly dropped to ten degrees. “I can’t tell my folks that their youngest child is knocked up and won’t become anybody, at least not what they expected me to become. You know, something important like a school teacher or a doctor.”

  Now I could see the smothering fear and pain that Lena had been trying so desperately to disguise. My heart was weeping for her, and I didn’t know how to make it stop. I placed an arm around Lena’s shuddering shoulders and squeezed her tight like she was the baby sister I never had. “Don’t you think you need to know for sure you’re pregnant before you up and leave?”

  “I told you I already know. I’ve missed two periods, and I’ve thrown up every morning as soon as I get to school.”

  “But—I mean—it’s not going to hurt for you to go down to the county clinic and make sure. This is a major decision you’re making here. You need to know for sure that you’re having a baby. Besides, they probably won’t take you anyway without proof that you’re pregnant.” I didn’t know if that was true or not, but it made sense to me.

  After thinking for a second, Lena straightened her face. “You’re right. It won’t hurt to find out. But I’m not going down there by myself. No way am I doing that. You’ll have to come with me, Reecy.”

  I shook my head vehemently and started thinking fast. “I can’t do that. You know my cousin, Carolyn, is a nurse at that clinic. She’ll have a fit if I walk in there alone or even with you.”

  Lena placed both hands on her hips and slit her eyes. “Everybody knows your cousin is the only black nurse in town and has to work the graveyard shift. How’s she going to see us?”

  “Well, that’s true, but you know I have to catch the bus home every day and take care of Grandma.”

  “Yes, but tomorrow is Friday. Your brothers don’t have basketball practice, and they don’t have a game. You can walk over there with me as soon as we get out of school. Can’t you, please?”

  She got me good. I couldn’t think of another excuse that would get me out of that polite request. I just sat there staring at Lena with my mouth slightly opened, praying for the right words to pop in.

  “Please, Reecy. I don’t have anyone else that can go with me. Please come with me.” Her eyes pleaded with me. I didn’t want to see her crying again. Maybe she wasn’t pregnant and wouldn’t have to run away after all.

  “Okay, I’ll have to come up with something to tell my parents, though,” I said, wondering what I was going to tell Margret and David Jones, the two most perceptive parents on the planet. I’d never lied to them, and now wasn’t a good time to start. Oh, Lord, how did I let myself get into this? I never should have agreed to help her.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  My parents entered the house one after the other later that evening. Neither one of them had graduated from high school, but they were both smart, hardworking people. Mama’s job at Miller’s Garment Factory provided enough scrap fabric to make several quilts for our family each year. They didn’t look like much to the naked eye, but they kept our bodies quite warm during the cold winter nights.

  With Mama’s used Singer sewing machine, she also made most of our family’s clothing, especially our school clothes. While the other students raved about my uniquely-made dresses, I was yearning to have a store-bought outfit for the holidays.

  Daddy’s job at the Belk Roofing Company had provided a steady income for our family for almost twenty years. And now that he’d been promoted to a forklift operator, he’d be able to provide for us like never before. The first thing on his agenda was to buy himself a better vehicle. I was happy about that, because anything would be better than the 1951 Ford pick-up truck that he currently drove.

  Mama, a small woman with graying hair pulled back into a bun, entered the house first through the back door. The smell of meatloaf, green beans, mashed potatoes, and hot buttered yeast rolls greeted her at the door.

  “My, my, it smells good in here. Someone really taught my little girl how to cook, didn’t they?’ she said, smiling at me. Mama was carrying a bright yellow bag from the Dollar General Store.

  “Yes, Mama, you did a good job teaching me how to cook. How was your day?”

  “My day was great. I bought you something,” she stated, handing the yellow bag to me.

  “Thank you, Mama,” I replied, taking the plastic bag in my hand. I loved getting presents. They didn’t come my way too often, but I was grateful when they did. I pulled out a pair of brand new straight-cut jeans and scowled.

  “What’s wrong? Don’t you like the pants?” Mom asked, noticing the sour look on my face.

  “They’re all right, Mom,” I replied, still showing disappointment.

  “Well, what’s the matter? Are they the wrong size or something?”

  “No, it’s just that everyone at Bell High School is wearing bell bottoms,” I replied. “If I could rename the school, I’d call it Bell Bottom High for real. I’ll look out of style wearing straight leg jeans. Everybody will be laughing at me.” I said, dropping my head.

  “Oh, child please, keep looking, there’s something else in there for you, too.”

  I still didn’t look up at Mama, but searched inside the bag for the remainder of my present. Pulling out a bag of silver studs, I smiled up at Mama. “Thanks, Mom
, these studs would look great on a pair of bell bottom jeans. Don’t you think?” I asked, hoping Mama would agree.

  “Good evening, what’s all this fuss going on up in here?” Daddy asked, also entering the house through the back door. He pulled up the same time as Mama, but he’d been outside checking the oil in his truck. He was a tall, heavy-set man with a balding head who towered over us.

  “Hi, Daddy,” I said, giving him a big bear hug. “I saw you pull up. Is your truck okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s just burning up oil like crazy. But that’s all right, because I’m trading it in next week. I already got my eye on a ’73 Dodge pick-up truck.”

  “Daddy, why do you want another truck? Why don’t you get yourself a nice car?” I asked, knowing the answer to that question.

  “Because I want a truck, and since I work every day, I’m buying me a truck. Now your mama here, she can drive whatever she wants. But my money is going on a truck. Every family needs a truck.”

  And that’s exactly what I had expected my daddy to say. I knew him like a book I’d read over a million times.

  All through dinner, I pondered how to get out of coming straight home from school tomorrow. Since my brothers didn’t have basketball practice, one of them could come home to see about Grandma, but I’d need a good excuse. Suddenly, it dawned on me what I could do.

  “Mom, can I talk with you for a minute?” I asked, drying the last dish from dinner.

  “Sure, sweetie, what’s on your mind?”

  “I was just thinking. Would it be okay if I exchanged those jeans you bought me today for a pair of bell bottoms? I could run by the dollar store right after school tomorrow and exchange them myself so you won’t have to make another trip.”

  “Well, I guess if that’s important to you, it’s all right with me.” Mama shrugged.

  “Oh, thank you, Mom,” I exclaimed, hugging mama around the waist. “I promise to be home as soon as I can.”

  Placing the last dry dish in the cabinet, I turned and walked towards my room. I didn’t want Mama to see the look on my face, because she might have been able to tell that I was hiding something from her.

  I was upset with myself, because now I was helping someone who really wasn’t a friend. And that person had caused me to be dishonest with my mom. And on top of that, I couldn’t discuss any of this with my best friend, Joyce Campbell. Oh, well, I’ll have to make it up to Joyce later.

  *

  “What’s wrong with you, Ree? It’s Friday and the last period of the day. You look like you’re dreading the end of the week. We only have about five minutes before the final bell sounds,” Joyce said, waving a hand in front of me.

  “Huh, what did you say?” I asked, blinking at Joyce.

  “I said it’s Friday, and you’re looking like it’s Monday. What’s with you?”

  “Oh, nothing, I’m fine. I just have something to do after school today.”

  “Yeah, like what? We usually hang out on Fridays. Are you meeting your boyfriend?”

  “Ha, ha, very funny. My mom bought me a pair of straight-leg jeans at the dollar store yesterday, and I’m taking them back today to get some bell bottoms.”

  “I know that’s right. I hate it when my mom tries to pick out my clothes. I tell you what, I can walk with you, and then we can go by the diner and get some food on the way back.”

  “No,” I stated firmly. “I’m sorry, but you can’t go with me today. I have another stop to make that I can’t tell you about.”

  Joyce narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out what I could be hiding from her. “Oh, so you’re keeping secrets from your best friend, I guess.”

  “It’s—I just can’t talk about it right now. I wish I could, but I just can’t,” I stammered, lowering my eyes. I hated keeping anything from Joyce, but I couldn’t go back on my word to Lena. Even though Joyce wasn’t a gossipy teenager, a promise was a promise.

  “All right, all right, no problem. You can just call me whenever you get to your crib.”

  “Sure, I’ll do that,” I replied, trying to sound normal. I was almost as nervous about visiting the clinic as Lena Turnipseed probably was.

  When the final bell sounded, I said good-bye to Joyce and walked to the girls’ bathroom to freshen up. I wasn’t riding the bus home today, so I wasn’t in a hurry to get outside.

  Minutes later, I met Lena in the parking lot while the other students were waiting in line to get on the buses. “Hi, Lena, I have to run by the dollar store, and then I’ll meet you at the clinic in about forty-five minutes.”

  “Okay, Reecy, thanks for everything. I’ll meet you there. It’s best if no one sees us walking together anyway,” she responded, turning away.

  I walked a couple of blocks to reach the dollar store in the afternoon light. The leaves on just about every tree had turned yellow to match the glowing sun. I removed my windbreaker, wrapped it around my waist, and took off.

  In Clifton, everything was just a few blocks from everything else. The county hospital and the roofing company, where my dad worked, were the only businesses outside of walking distance. The residential communities were still segregated with the blacks living on the south side of town and the whites on the north side. Bell High School was the only sign of integration in Clifton, Arkansas.

  I didn’t have time to look for another pair of jeans, so I just handed my bag to the female clerk and asked for a refund. She greeted me with a wide smile shining against her thin cherry lips.

  While I was standing at the check-out counter, a tube of sparkling strawberry lip gloss captured my complete attention. “How much is this?” I asked, holding the tube in my hand. Since it was the only thing close to make-up that I was allowed to wear, I was excited about buying it.

  “Oh, that’s just ninety-nine cents,” the clerk replied. “Would you like me to ring it up?”

  Eyeing the refund money in my hand, I decided to splurge on the lip gloss and handed over a dollar and some change for tax.

  “Would you like that in a bag?” the sales clerk asked.

  “No, thank you. I’m in a hurry. I have a friend waiting on me,” I replied, stuffing the tube and the change in my front pocket. I hurried out the door and almost knocked over the police officer approaching me.

  “Hold on, young lady. Where’s the fire?” the police officer asked, holding my elbow. He wasn’t much taller than me. He was a thin man with straight dark hair and even darker eyes.

  My face flinched. I was taken aback with the officer’s sarcastic tone, but I managed to smile, and say, “Excuse me, I’m so sorry, officer.”

  “My name is Officer Riley,” he replied, taking a quick inventory of my appearance. “What’s that bulging in your pocket right there, gal?” He pointed to the front of my pants wearing a scowl on his face to match King Kong’s.

  My heart flipped over about three times as I tried to put on a brave front. The officer’s surly tone was making me uncomfortable. He didn’t have any reason to approach me this way, like I’d done something wrong. I’d already apologized for running into him. What was his problem?

  My insides were trembling like cool wind was rushing through my veins. Yet I stood up straight and faced the man in blue. “Ah, that’s my lip gloss.”

  Taking a step back, the officer directed me outside the store and demanded that I slowly remove the item from my pocket. I did as I was instructed and presented the tube to the police officer. “See, it’s just lip gloss.”

  “Did you steal this?” he asked, snatching the tube from my hand. He carefully examined it before returning his attention to me. “I see the price tag is still on here.”

  “No, sir! I just paid for that with my own money,” I responded in horror. I’d never been accused of stealing anything. My parents were strict disciplinarians who wouldn’t tolerate lying or stealing so much as a stick of gum. The thought of taking something that didn’t belong to me had never even crossed my mind. Now I was being accused of the ultimate sin.

&n
bsp; Clinching the straps of my backpack, my sharp fingernails dug into my palms so deep it hurt. Biting down on my trembling bottom lip, I was determined to stay composed as the officer continued assaulting my character.

  “Okay, can you prove that? Let me see a receipt,” he demanded.

  Staring at the pale-faced officer with my mouth gaped open, I couldn’t move, because I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It was as if the blood had frozen in my body. Why was this officer of the law speaking to me in this manner? If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear that my natural hair was sticking out like I’d just placed a finger into an electrical outlet.

  “Hey there, Office Riley, what’s going on?”

  I turned to see the white sales clerk who had just helped me leaning against the open glass door.

  “Hi, Nellie. I just saw this gal rushing out the store with this in her pocket,” he said, raising the tube. “Have you seen her around here before?”

  “Yes, sir, she’s been here plenty of times. She just paid for that tube of lip gloss that you’re holding in your hand.”

  “Oh, okay, I thought she might’ve been one of those kids who have been shoplifting around here lately. Go on back in the store, and let me handle this.”

  “Sure thing, Officer Riley. See you later,” the clerk replied, closing the door.

  “Here you go, young lady,” he said, passing the tube back to me. “Next time you buy something from a store, make sure they put it in a bag.” The officer spit on the pavement right between my feet. “Now tie your shoes and get out of here.”

  I noticed the smugness and heard the contempt in his voice. I remembered what my parents had said about respecting the police regardless of how nasty they were to you. So I just kept my mouth closed as I watched the officer walk away. Sure, I’d heard kids at school brag about stealing from the dollar store, but I’d never found it amusing. And I never thought that I’d be confused with one of them.

  Bending down, I re-tied my red Converse tennis shoes and then double timed it to the clinic carrying my book bag. I had to be at least thirty minutes late by now. But I’d learned a valuable lesson that I’d never forget about shopping and leaving a store without a bag in my hand. It was a luxury that few black people could afford in the seventies.

 

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