Rain Water

by Buttrfli Jones

  “Rain Wata . . . If yuh knew what I done went through tuh find YOU!”

  He smiled and displayed the two gold teeth that encased his canines. Paisley moved closer to Ms. Tandy, reaching for her hand while keeping both eyes firmly on the well-dressed man before her. As he finished his opening, Ms. Tandy’s eyes rolled back into her head and she fell like a burlap sack of potatoes against Paisley, who in turn exerted all of her strength to keep the older woman from hitting the ground.

  “Do somethin’!” Paisley screamed at the man who rushed to Ms. Tandy’s side, slapping her cheeks gently to wake her. “Ms. Tandy . . .Ms. Tandy! You gotta wake up, now! Please get up!” Paisley could not remember feeling so helpless in her life, hoping that the older woman was not dying before her. Her tears fell hard against Ms. Tandy’s face and her frantic screams seemed to move Ms. Tandy back to reality. She looked from face to face as she gathered her wits and reached a hand in the direction of the man before her. She put her palm over his mouth to ensure that he was actually breathing against her skin. She uttered a moan from the depth of her soul, more like a wail.

  “Clem . . . yuh alive? I thought yuh was . . . I thought I . . .” She looked around confused, trying to distinguish if what was happening was real.

  “Yea, ya thought ya killed me.”

  Paisley looked from one to the other, her head spinning in disbelief. Ms. Tandy tried to kill him? Looking toward the woman that she thought she knew, she could not believe her capable of murder. She abruptly stood, feeling bile rise in her throat at thoughts of Ms. Tandy attempting to kill the man. Ms. Tandy’s moment of disbelief turned into anger and she rose to her feet to tackle the man to the paved concrete beneath his feet, jumping atop him to hold him firmly to the ground.

  “Whatchu come ta kill me, Clem? Ya come ta settle da score? I tole ya da las’ time ya put ya hands on me was da LAST!” She could not see the world before her due to her eyes being heavy with tears. The vision of the three crows flashed before her and she felt as if she would need to fight for her life.

  “Ya took mah life. I ain’t seen my Mama . . . nobody. I cain’t go home ‘cause a you!” She punched wildly at the man before her, almost wishing she would have truly killed him instead of believing that she did. Twenty years was a very long time to believe a truth that did not exist. He struggled to protect his face from the blows and finally wrestled her into a position of submission.

  “I ain’t come ta kill yuh, Woman!”

  The adrenaline slowly left Ms. Tandy’s body and she lay in the grass limp with her white dress muddied. She pulled herself up on her elbows, searching for Paisley. She found the young girl, standing as if frozen in time not knowing whether to stay or run.

  “Come ‘ere, Paisley. COME ‘ERE!” Paisley frightfully walked toward Ms. Tandy, feeling more lost than ever before. Clem looked on at the two somewhat confused as Ms. Tandy also motioned for Clem to come closer to them with her right hand, pointing toward the spot that she needed him to stand.

  “Dis here gul is all I got here. Genni done lef’ ‘bout ten year pas’. She was shamed ta have a poor Mama. I tole her yuh was dead, ‘cause das what I knew. But ya gone tell Paisley here what ya done did. I don’ need her scared a me fa no damn reason.”

  Clem looked at the brown beautiful girl who looked as if she could have come from Ms. Tandy, possibly from them both. He measured Ms. Tandy’s initial reaction and thought about the person that he used to be before he responded, looking directly toward Paisley.

  “I use ta be a bad man, I guess. I beat her ev’ry now an’ again . . . when I was drinkin’. Mos’ time I don’ ‘memba what I did ta you, Rain. Neva’ got ta apologize. Sorry, T.”

  He looked in her direction hoping for some sign of forgiveness, but she offered him nothing but a bitter, loveless expression. Twenty lost years of her life was not an easy thing to forgive.

  “Well, I ain’ neva’ heard-a no drunk man eatin’ fire, so yuh cain’t blame it all on da drinkin’. Anyway, go on . . .”

  Ms. Tandy showed no emotion, waiting for him to finish his story. Clem was the first and only man she had ever loved but she did not want to give him any indications that he still had a chance with her heart. Paisley watched them both curiously, hanging on every word. Her curious nature drew her closer to the two, longing for every detail of their past.

  “Long story short, I was messin’ roun’ drinkin’ an’ came back ta be greeted wit’ a shotgun. Ya tole me . . . I know ya tole me. I cain’t blame ya ‘cause ya tole me.”

  He shook his head as he told his story and Paisley started to feel a bit more at ease as the story progressed. She did not take Ms. Tandy to be a killer as she believed her to be the kindest person Paisley had ever met. Something about the older man intrigued Paisley and she watched the shine of his teeth when they peeked out from his lips as he spoke. He lifted his shirt to reveal a scar that ran cross-length on his chest.

  “Bullet missed ma’ heart by ‘bout a inch. Guess dat Da Man Upstairs wasn’t ready fa’ an ole dog like me.” He easily laughed at his words while Ms. Tandy continued to stare at him in disbelief. Paisley reached her hand out to touch the raised skin above his scar, and Ms. Tandy quickly slapped her hand away.

  “Now I know I done teach yuh betta’ den dat, Girl. Yuh don’ know dis Negro from Adam.” She looked him up and down with clear disgust on her face. “I don’ even know ‘im no mo’.” She moved to walk up her stairs when Clem caught her by the arm.

  “Ain’t no need ta be ugly. Ya use ta be my Rain Wata . . . Ya ‘memba why I call yuh dat?” The corners of Ms. Tandy’s mouth threatened to break into a smile and she fought her face back into an emotionless display. Her body softened at the thought of the Clem she loved. The sweet Clem who would bring her flowers he found alongside the road when Spring was high and place those flowers in her hair, or the Clem that would sit outside with her for hours talking about life and love.

  As soon as the good memories came, the bad ones quickly followed and she wanted nothing more than to get away from him as quickly as possible. It had taken a great while to forget his touch and his presence. She looked at his hand on her arm with such a burning evil glare that he hurriedly removed his hand.

  “I’m glad yuh alive.” She reached for Paisley’s hand and when joined, they proceeded toward her front door. “Go on back where ya came from an’ don’ come back.” Before he could respond, she had already closed the door and secured the lock. Clem started to knock at the door . . . first politely and then forcefully, shaking the small home with his persistence.

  “I ain’t gone hurt ya, T! I need ta explain mah self.” Ms. Tandy stood with her back against the door, visibly shaking and fighting the urge to vomit. However, she tried her best to sound brave and steady.

  “Ain’t nothin’ ta explain. Yuh did whatcha did, an’ I did what I did. Jus’ let dead dogs lie!”

  Clem discontinued his knocking and stood transfixed on the porch.

  “Yuh still stubborn as de day is long. Don’ fret none . . . I be back. I’m gonna come by ev’ry day ‘til ya talk ta me, T!”

  She heard his footsteps retreating and placed her ear to the door until she was sure that he was gone. She then dashed toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind her while she found her way to the porcelain bowl. She dry-heaved, somewhat hyperventilating as Paisley approached and proceeded to sit cross-legged on the other side of the door. After the day that she had, Paisley was completely void of new emotions. Her concern was for Ms. Tandy’s wellbeing. When her nausea passed, Ms. Tandy sat on the floor of the bathroom, face turned toward the ceiling. She felt as if something was snatching her air as she screamed her pain.

  “Why Lawd . . . why?! What is You doin’ ‘cause I cain’t unda’stand.”

  Her mind went over the scene that she had replayed numerous times in her head. The blood that was heavy and red all over the room . . . the screams of Genevieve as she stared at her father laying on the floor. To see Clem standing before her
was more than her mind could handle.

  “Ms. Tandy . . . I’m comin’ in . . .”

  Paisley stood and turned the brass knob, revealing a broken woman lying in a fatigued position. She sat a breath away from the older woman and took Ms. Tandy’s head and laid it in her small lap, stroking her hair as a mother would. The two often shared a comfortable silence between them and Ms. Tandy liked to say that Paisley had existed in a prior life, telling the young girl that she was wise beyond her years. As Paisley held her she could no longer contain her curiosity. There were not many subjects Ms. Tandy was afraid to address and attempted murder was one to add to the list.

  “So what happened, Ms. Tandy? Why you try to kill him?”

  Ms. Tandy thought about her answer . . . the same answer she had told herself to justify shooting him in the chest. At the time, the situation felt as if it were life or death. As the years progressed she had thought out numerous scenarios that did not involve the shotgun or running away for decades.

  “Well, Chile . . . dat man was mah LIFE. He da only man I done ever been wit’ to dis day!” As the words fell from her lips, she realized how unconsciously she had never allowed another man to take his place in her life or her heart. She smiled at the thought of who they used to be together.

  “He use-ta do all dis nice stuff fa me. He always make me feel like da Queen a da World! But afta’ his brotha’ Cleo got killed gamblin’ one night in a alley, he los’ his mine. He took ta drankin’ . . . All parts a’ da day an’ night. Thankin’ ev’ry man was afta’ me an’ got dis jealous streak a mile long! He got in his mine dat I was cheatin’ on him so he thought he gone beat me ‘til nobody want me. I felt sorry fa him on da count a his brotha’, but afta’ while I couldn’t take no mo’.”

  Paisley continued to stroke Ms. Tandy’s hair, massaging her temples while she spoke. Paisley had become completely enthralled in the story, anticipating the details of what made her take the final step. She did not rush Ms. Tandy in her telling . . . she let the story gently flow as the ocean waves they frequently observed together.

  “When Geni bout seven year ole he came one day mad as a dog, an’ I tole him dat was de las’ day he eva’ gone hit me so he betta not thank ‘bout actin’ crazy. We kep’ a ole shotgun unda’ da bed ‘case anybody came wit’ trouble an’ dis partic’lar day he was runnin’ fo’ me, sayin’ he ‘bout ta beat me good! I pulled dat gun ta his ches’ an’ tole him he betta’ not move no mo’ or I was gone shoot ‘im dead. But he ain’t care! He yellin’ an’ fightin’, scarin’ poor Geni. He jump at me an’ I pull dat trigga’ an’ dere he was . . . layin’ like a dead fish. I got Geni screamin’, an’ him bleedin’, an’ I ain’t know WHAT ta do!”

  Ms. Tandy stared into space, voicing that traumatic experience for the first time. She carried the memory around in her head until it became normalized, replaying every detail until she became numb in order to justify doing what she deemed as survival. Paisley continued to stroke her hair, smiling into the sky.

  “Maybe he changed. Maybe he a good guy now. Maybe he still love you an’ wanna take you away like Cinderella.” The light and airy way that Paisley spoke caused Ms. Tandy to break into a laugh at the thought, easing the cloud that hung above them all day. Paisley considered her words as she gently stroked Ms. Tandy’s thick, soft locks. “Maybe the dream wasn’t about death. Maybe it was sayin’ you thought somethin’ was dead but it was really alive.”

  Ms. Tandy pondered on the thought, thinking that the wise, young woman knew more than she let on. She looked at Paisley in the curious way that she did, examining the girl for some sort of magical characteristic.

  “Maybe you get to start over.”

  What would it mean ta start over? That was the thought on Ms. Tandy’s mind that plagued her as she lay there being consoled by the one she was charged to console herself.

  “You right. Maybe he done changed. But is been a long, long time.” Ms. Tandy pulled herself up into a sitting position, gripping the rim of the bathtub to pull herself up into a standing position. “Yo’ young heart look at da world so nice an’ pure but some thangs ain’t dat easy. God know I loved dat man’s dirty draws, but I ain’t de same Tandy no mo’.”

  The two ladies took to their rooms to reflect on the morning’s events, hesitantly parting ways. Paisley lay upon her comforter and gazed out at the gray sky, allowing the events of the day to replay themselves before her closed eyes. While she thought of church, Clem and Ms. Tandy, she simultaneously paralleled the thoughts with those of her mother. Paisley realized that over the years Ms. Tandy had come alive from her presence, while her mother had moved further and further away. She thought about how Ms. Tandy needed someone to love in order to feel whole, while her mother needed someone to love her. Paisley knew that she made Ms. Tandy happy, while it seemed that only men could make her mother happy. She thought about the light in Ms. Tandy’s eyes when she talked of Clem, similar to the way that her mother lit up whenever a new man was in her life.

  What if Ms. Tandy decides that only Clem can make her happy? What will happen to me next?

  Over in Ms. Tandy’s room, she knelt on the floor in a position of prayer. Clem being alive was a burden lifted, but what followed from his appearance was the realization that she had been running for nothing. She thought about all of the irreplaceable years missed with her family that could never be recovered. She thought about the Old Reverend’s words to her that morning, “IS TIME TA GO HOME”. She wanted nothing more than to go home but realized that she needed to stay around for Paisley . . . or find a way to take her along.

  Later that evening as the sun was making its descent the ladies sat on the porch, watching people come and go as was their usual fashion. They sat in silence, gazing upon the children playing along the sidewalks. Feeling as if she was on the verge of bursting, Paisley softly spoke into the quiet.

  “Do this mean I gotta go back home?”

  Paisley kept her head low as she spoke, feeling a heavy weight on her chest in anticipation. Ms. Tandy looked out toward the grapefruit sky and back down at the girl that she could not have felt closer to if she had birthed her. She put her hands on her hips and measured her words very carefully so that Paisley could feel and hear her heart.

  “Lil’ Gul . . . some days I feel like yuh was born outta mah own womb. Yuh ain’t neva’ gotta go nowhere, even when ya 55 yeahs ole!” Paisley started to smile as a feeling of relief enveloped her.

  “Dis mus’ be ‘bout ole Clem, huh?” Paisley shook her head to signify that the exchange between Ms. Tandy and Clem was on her mind. Ms. Tandy extended her hand to take Paisley’s, holding tight as she spoke.

  “Don’ worry ‘bout him. Ain’ nothin’ o’ nobody gone EVA take me ‘way from yuh. Far as I’m concern yuh go where I go an’ yuh stay where I stay. We bof know yo’ mama ain’t worth a damn.” Paisley’s smile faded and she stared out into the sky, mature enough to understand that what Ms. Tandy said was true despite the sting of her words. Ms. Tandy let go of Paisley’s hand as the exchange continued.

  “Don’ take no mind. Yuh know I ain’t always sweet wit’ mah words. But if I’m lyin’ I’m flyin’ an’ I ain’t grow no wings!” Ms. Tandy stood and walked to the edge of the porch, speaking out against the sky in hopes that God would also hear her worlds.

  “Paisley, I gotta go see mah Ma an’ mah peoples. Been thinkin’ all day ‘bout how tah take yuh wit’ me. We gone haveta fine yo’ mama an’ see if it okay wit’ her, ‘cause even tho’ she triflin’ dat still ya mama. But ah gotta go back home, Chile . . . ain’t no way ‘roun’ dat.”

  Paisley weighed Ms. Tandy’s words and shook her head in agreement. Paisley acknowledged that she loved her mother and longed for a relationship with her, but knew that a future with Princess would destroy the sense of peace she had acquired with Ms. Tandy.

  “I’ll talk to her. I don’t think she gonna care much, but I’ll talk to her.”

  Ms. Tandy returned to her seat and looked at Paisle
y, pondering on the young girl’s wisdom before speaking.

  “Yuh know I always tell yuh dat yuh gone be a heap betta den me. Yuh know what I was doin’ at yo’ age? I was laid up wit’ Clem makin’ babies. Ain’ no life fo’ a young gal. Yuh growin’ up, Chile an’ gettin’ womanly by da minute. Jus’ like me an’ yo’ mama, we didn’t unda’stand de powa’ we had ‘til it come too late. Yuh know yuh got some powa’ ‘tween dem legs, Gul?”

  Paisley looked down at her thighs, then back at Ms. Tandy, wondering what power she was referring to. Ms. Tandy noticed the puzzled look on her face and started to laugh, realizing that Paisley was ignorant about her feminine spark.

  “Err’ one-a us done got here by mens an’ womens comin’ togetha’. One day yuh gone meet some man dat’s gone promise yuh da world an’ treasures untole . . . all fa’ a piece-a yo’ POWA’!”

  Paisley felt a tingling in her stomach at Ms. Tandy’s words, envisioning some mystic connection that was created by a man who would eventually love her like the princesses in fairytales. Although she had never witnessed that type of love given, she internally told herself that she would be the exception.