“This is the best present ever!” he said. I'd known he'd love it. It was a Dallas Cowboys jersey with the last name Upshaw stenciled on the back. That, of course, would totally ruin him for what I had gotten him: Spider-Man jammies that were red and blue with black webbing over the top.
We helped him put the jersey on over his turtleneck. During another round of hugs, he told them, “I'm sorry I said y'all were boring.”
Silence.
“What?” Millicent and Cissy asked in unison.
“What?” Tracy John asked, turning to me, feigning surprise.
God, he was good. He could turn on the innocence on a dime. “What?” I asked him baek; then I covered for him. “What difference did it make?”
• • •
On Tuesday night, Tracy John came to the door of my rootn, carrying his pillow and his favorite blanket.
“I asked Leo if I could swap for tonight.”
“Why?” Kasked him.
He answered me in one word? “Snow.”
Tracy John peered out my window. Snow was falling lightly outside. “You have the best view in the house. So can I stay?”
“Of course.”
“Solid,” he said. “Do you think well get tomorrow off?”
“I'll have to pick up,” I said.
“I like snow, but I don't like hail,” he said.
“What do you have against hail, Tracy John?”
“Hail is noisy and scary.”
“Scary? You'te scared of hail?”
“Kinda. Does that make me a baby?”
“Of course.”
“It does?”
“You are a baby. You're die baby of the family. You don't have to be brave,” I told him. “That's what you have us for, your family.” I kissed him between his eyeballs.
• • •
Well into that night, I felt it in my underpants and saw sticky redness down my upper thighs. Yes! I thought. I got up, stripped the bed, and went into the bathroom to clean myself. I put on fresh undies, and a nightgown. Then I went to the closet and got out anew pair of sheets.
Tracy John sat bolt upright, asking incredulously, “Did you wet the bed?”
I shook my head and told him to go back to sleep.
“What happened, then?” he asked.
I thought of a way to delicately put it. “I went through a change.”
He lost interest. He lay back down, rolled over, and said, “The change of the sheets.”
The next day, the sky was clear. The snow hadn't stuck, and I went to junior high Kotex-strapped and head up. I was proud. I told Cissy and Millicent before class, and they squealed and jumped up and down and welcomed me to the club.
At supper, Tracy John said, “Auntie told me all about your lady time.”
“My what?” ?exclaimed, embarrassed.
“No need to make things a mystery,” Daddy said. “We all got to know about everybody's everything.”
“Does everybody know?” I asked.
Leo came into the room, nodding and saying, “Yes.”
• • •
My period lasted a whole five days, which took me right up to Horace's graduation from basic, and what a day that was.
Fort Dix was a forty-five-minute station wagon drive from Philadelphia. Tracy John sat between Leo and me, an4 we were all jazzed with anticipation as we cruised down the rustic Route 38. We were actually going to see an army base We rounded the gate and saw a group sitting on dufrel bags; thm we drove past the confidence course and saw soldiers scaling walls. We saw the Main Post Exchange, which looked pretty much like Kmart.
We found the auditorium, where several flags were displayed, Old Glory and one with the battalion insignia of a fierce fite-breathing lion among them. Map reading, bivouac, range fire, first aid, D and G, and BRM all boiled down to this.
In the bleacher seats, some people were in dress greens, and some were in civvies. People waved small American flags.
The ceremony began With a lecture about the need for soldiers even in peaedtime
I hardly recognized Horace; he blended in so well
The soldiers looked like green ants. I should have brought my dollapstore binoculars.
Then came the reading of the graduates' names. The officer instructed us to hold our applause until all names were read. Seftsihg the inevitable, Hooked over at Leo and Tracy John. The drill floor was siknt, and then the familiar name was called. “Horade Peyton Upshw
Leo and Tracy John exploded with clapping and hooting. The boys threw homemade confetti in the air. Everyone turned and looked at us.
After the rest of the names were read, they announced the most distinguished soldier of the term. To my surprise, my brother's name was called again. Horace strutted up to the podium with his skinny, slack-hipped physique. He shook hands with his commanding officer. Gameras snapped away. I wondered if held be in the newspaper the next day.
Leo and Tracy John made more noise. “Go 'head, Horace!” they celled.
After the ceremony, we posed for Polaroids. High-rankers still clamored about Horace, so they got in most of the shots. We worked all combinations. There was one with me and Horace and a general.
“Wow, soldier of the cycle!” Leo exclaimed.
“My boy is a born leader,” Daddy said.
Ma cried, as usual.
Next, we weht to the mess hall. That was a different experience from what Horace had described. He'd said he had five minutes to eat meals that looked like slop. Yet a gorgeous spread was out for the benefit of these grunts' loved ones. There were fried shrimp, porterhouse steaks cooked to order, baked potatoes, and garlic bread. We ate leisurely.
“I don't know what you complained about, Horace. This is good food,” Leo said.
“We call it chow,” Horace said.
“This is good chow,” Tracy John said.
I felt Horace's head, whieh was smooth arid darn near bald.
“Your buddy Claude almost has his 'fro back,” I said.
“He really made a boomerang back to Dardon,” Leo said.
Daddy nodded. “The army's not for everyone.”
• • •
On his holiday leave, Horace came home and settled back into his same routine. Horace, Leo, and Tracy John shoveled the walk. Flakes caught in Leo's andTracy John's 'fros but roiled off Horace's; Mr. Gleando. As always, they did more playing than clearing a path in the snow. I stuck to my usual inside work, helping Ma with dinner, but whert I ventured outside to tell them to get ready for supper, I heard someone say “Get her.”
I turned just in time to get one in; the face.
I scooped up a good ball. “Which one of you did it?”
I couldn't figure out which, so I threw one at each of them. I missed all three.
• • •
After a few more days of snow-clogged trees, I was sick of the great outdoors While I flipping through Seventeen magazine, Horace said tomtie, “I need another hand. I'm clearing things away:”
I took an up-and-down look at him. His dashiki and wide-legged pants went better with his afro. Civilian clothes and military haircut: it just didn't work.
“Hire the Russian army,” I told him. “They aren't busy.”
“Come on.” He pulled me to my feet.
“Why don't you ask Leo?” I said.
“I'm asking you.”
He marched me up to the attic. I found his things boxed and tagged. The sliding closet was cleared. His idea was to put each box in, stacking one on top of the other. I took a box, and we began the two-person assembly line.
“I don't know why you're complaining,” he told me. “I'm clearing things out for you.”
I stopped cold. My own room? My privacy? That was what I had longed for, wasn't it? I had nearly forgotten. I certainly hadn't thought it would be like this, way up here away from the rest of the family.
Horace swiveled his head toward me. “You're not jumping for joy. I thought this was what you wanted. What changed?”
Very
good question. I thought back to two weeks before, when Ma had taken Tracy John and me to the supermarket. Around aisle ten, Ma met up with a friend of hers and was distracted in conversation. Tracy John rode on the side of the shopping cart to the next aisle. I followed him. Though the cart was filled to the brim, I wasn't concerned. This was what he always did. Then I saw it turning over, and I rushed to the other side of it to balance it.
As if I needed any other clue that I could stand to bulk up on Dunkin' Donuts, or atleast lunch on a whole sandwich rather than a half of one, I couldn't hold the line. The momentum was too great, and I found myself travelling with Tracy John and the cart.
“Help us!” I screamed as our descent accelerated. Tracy John and I faced imminent crushing.
Just then, a bald, tall, brown-skinned man who sort of resembled James Earl Jones did a double take, then sprang into action. He charged over from the end of the aisle, by the Tater, Totsi and leveraged the cart back to its rightful stand.
Tracy John and I both tumbled free. I thought my skirt came up briefly, but I didn't care. I was so happy to be alive. “Thanks, mister,” I said.
The man offered me a hand up and rubbed Tracy John on the head.
“Yeah, thanks, mister,” Tracy John said.
The man just tipped his head and walked away.
I turned to Tracy John. “We could have been killed! Crushed by falling food!”
He swallowed, shaken by the expedience “I'm sorry.”
“Don't you ever, ever, ever do that again!”
“I won't.” He tugged at my sleeve; those penny-colored eyes of his were stretched wide. “Maha Maine? Are you going to tell Auntie?”
“No”
“You ain't gonna tell?”
“I'm not going to tell on you, Tracy John,” I promised.
I realized something from that experience. That man, whom I didn't know and probably would never see again, didn't have to get involved. I loved the way he did it. No fanfare. He just smiled and walked back to do the rest of his shopping.
Horace shoved me. “Earth to Charmaine. Come in, Charmaine. What's come over you? What changed?”
“I did.”
He cast me a slanted glance of curiosity, then nodded knowingly. “I knew you'd hold things together. Just like Hoss on the Ponderosa.”
I put my hands on my imagination. “For the last time, you're Hoss. I'm Audra.”
• • •
Later that day, I went to pick up Tracy John from Basil's place. Demetrius came to the door. “Daisy took them to the park.” My heart didn't leap as our eyes met. He was still handsome close up, but he just didn't do it for me anymore.
“Oh.” I turned to walk down the steps. “I'll come back in a little while, then.”
“Charmaine,” he called to me.
I turned toward him.
“Mr. Gowdy failed me in that class. I'll have to attend summer school. It was hardly worth it.”
I shrugged and said, “Are you telling me?”
“Mr. Gowdy really laid into me.”
“I'm sorry I missed that.” I walked to the front gate.
“Maine, I could have said your name. I could have said it was mil your fault.”
“My fault? My fault?” I asked him. “I can't believe I ever thought you were something special.”
I saw Daisy coming up the driveway, followed by Basil and Tracy John. When Tracy John saw me, he ran right into my arms. “Maha!” he said.
“He calls you Mama?” Demetrius asked me.
“No,” Tracy John said. “I call her Maha. It's short for Maharaja. All-seeing and all-knowing.”
Demetrius looked at him like he was crazy; then he looked at me like I was crazy. Then he shook his head at both of us and turned to go back into the house.
“Demetrius,” Tracy John called to him before he closed the door.
“What?” Demetrius asked.
“You jive turkey,” Tracy John ‘said; then we stuck pur tongues out at him and ran.
Slavery lasted several hundred years; for many, slavery of the mind was still going on. On December 22, I decided to free myself, to go totally natural. I decided to wear a bush. This saved a half hour of my life that first week alone. Also, I didn't have to worry about getting it wet. Bye-bye, hot comb. Good riddance, hair grease.
I borrowed a dashiki from Horace and put on some work jeans and tennis sneakers.
“You look like a different person,” Leo said.
“You look like a soul sister,” Tracy John said.
“That looks very attractive,” Daddy said. “That style is you.”
Later at school, most of my teachers gave me the eye, but no one commented except for Mr. Gowdy. “We have a new person in class. Would you care to introduce yourself?” he asked, smiling.
The next day, I did something new with my Afro. I tied a scarf around it. Not a rag—a scarf. It was mesh, which accentuated my Ipng neck.
“You stopped straightening your hak! Are you insane?. Dinah asked.
I was so steeled, so resolute, that Dinah's obligatory rude comment didn't even faze me.
“Dinah, you wouldn't understand.”
“You look like a real African,” she said, biting off the words of thissupposed insult.
I smiled and said, “Thank you.”
She looked at me like I was possessed. Before she escaped down the hall, I said to her, “Dinah, s-o-l-i-d-a-r-i-t-y. Not only can I spell it, but I know what it means.”
By the time chemistry rolled around, I was looking forward to the time off from her and only seeitig the people from school who I wanted to see, which meant Mttlicent and Cissy. Or so I thought. At my locker, I sorted through the books I needed to take for the holidays.
“What are you doing for break?” asked Spiderman.
I turned to him, noting his tiny cramped shoulders and broad smiling face.
I smiled too and said, “Stuff with church. Stuff with my family. What about you, Spiderman?”
“I'm going to Virginia to see my grandparents, but I won't be gone for the whole vacation. Maybe we could go out for a soda or something.”
“I don't know; I'll probably be busy.”
“Oh” he said, dejected. He tapped my locker and turned to leave. “Maybe some other time, then.”
I stopped him. “Wait, maybe you'd like to attend this thing at my church. I'm emceeing the first part of it.”
“You are?” he asked, his eyes sparkling again.
“Yep. It's an all-day thing for Kwanzaa. Drop in whenever you want.”
• • •
Christmas came and went. Tracy John didn't get his LEGO set; he got the cheaper Lincoln Logs. That seemed to make him just as happy.
Like on every holiday, Gammy came over. She was dressed very nicely in an aboye-the-knees poly-rayon dress with mitered stripes. I told her about the program I was planning at church, listing blacks' accomplishments.
“That'll be a short program,” Gammy told me.
“Ma,” Daddy said.
“All we did was invent peanut butter and sing ‘We Shall Overcome,’ “ Gammy said.
“Ma, please.”
“What's that month when we run down all our accomplishments?” Gammy said.
“February, Ma.”
“Pretty soon we're going to have these whites thinking that they didn't do anything. They might get an inferiority complex.”
“I don't think that will happen, Gammy,” Horace told her.
“Who's that black man who did the first open-heart surgery?” Ma asked.
“Daniel Haie Williams,” Daddy said.—
“He's called the father of biology,” I saidi
“He's kind of late to be the father of biology. He was around at the beginhing of the century?”
“Maybe he's the father of modern biology, Ma,” Daddy said.
Gammy just humphed. “He must be the first black to pass biology in high school.”
Horace fell out at that.
> For all Gammy's wisecracks, she told me she would make a point to attend church with us that Sunday instead ofethe church in the city she usually attended with her sister. She told me she wouldn't miss my emeeeing for the worlds.
• • •
Later, I used Horace, Leo, and Tracy John as my audience while I practiced my speech.
“Kee-nar-ra. Kinara,” I said. “This is a candleholder that holds seven candles, and they represent our family background and where we are from. Now, repeat after me, all of you. Mishumaa saba. Mee-shoo-ma sa ba.”
“What kind of word is that?” Tracy John got flip.
I shot him a look, and he put his two fingers over his closed lips and made a peace sign with the other hand.
“And the red is for blood” I handed him the candle.
Tracy John recoiled. “Yuck.”
“The blood, the pain that we have suffered all these years. The people suffered so that they can prosper.
“The green candles mean land,” I handed them to Leo. “And there're three of them, and the black means people.” I handed the black candle to Horace.
Horace asked, “Only one brother?”
• • •
I had a lot of work to do with this Kwanzaa business. Like any great leader, I knew that my success hinged upon my distribution of this responsibility. I decided to have a little activity for people Tracy John's age. I was going to have them report on famous black scientists and doctors. I had the boys and girls of the congregation draw for names. Tracy John drew Meredith Gourdine.
Daddy asked what she had done.
“Meredith is a he, Daddy,” I softly corrected.
Daddy smiled. “He should call himself Meredith John.”
I worked on Tracy John's posture, his elocution, his eye contact, and his hand gestures. Not that it was a contest, but I wais certain he was going to be the best presenter.
Late that Saturday night, I felt a tug at my shoulder.
“I can't do that Meredith Gourdine speech. I'm too scared,” Tracy John said to me.
“Scared? You?” I rubbed my eyes.
“I don't want to get up there in front of all those people.”
I smiled. He was wearing the Spider-Man jammies I had bought him. For anything else, he had a mouth. He inserted himself into the spotlight time and time again.
What was so different about getting up in front of our congregation?
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