Being Clem

by Lesa Cline-Ransome

  “And then she said, ‘Ralph is my boyfriend.’”

  “Clemson Thurber, you are lying!” Annette said, whispering and laughing at the same time.

  When I told her about the part where Clarisse called Momma a maid, Annette said, “Well, I would have slapped her too,” looking almost as mad as Momma.

  “I don’t think Clarisse is gonna mess with Momma again,” I told Annette, and she laughed again, but then we remembered we were supposed to be whispering.

  “I’m not even sure Clarisse meant any of what she was saying. It sounded like she was just sad about Daddy,” I said.

  “Mmmmhmmm,” Annette said, nodding her head.

  “You knew Clarisse was upset about Daddy?” I asked her.

  “Clem, sometimes I wonder how you were skipped a grade if you are so dumb.”

  “How was I supposed to know? She never even talks about Daddy,” I said, my voice getting loud.

  “Did you know I miss Daddy too?” Annette said.

  And then I did feel dumb. Momma hardly ever talked about Daddy, but I could see the way she got sad sometimes thinking about him. I guess Annette was right that you don’t always have to say how you’re feeling just to be feeling it. I shrugged. “You do?”

  Annette leaned toward me. “I know you don’t remember much about him, but me and Clarisse do. He used to take us everywhere with him, like we were his pride and joy. He’d say ‘You see my angels’ to just about everyone we passed on the street. And it was like Christmas every time he got home from one of his train runs. He had gifts for us in every pocket. Momma said he was spoiling us, but he didn’t care. I can still smell his aftershave.” Annette stopped. The only person who cries less than Clarisse is Annette, so after seeing Clarisse cry today, I didn’t know what to expect, but Annette’s eyes stayed dry. “He would always mash his face up against ours after he came from the barbershop. ‘Is Daddy smooth or what?’ he’d ask us, and we would rub his face…” Annette looked up at the ceiling. “He always smelled so good. Seemed like when he was here, Momma was always happy. They used to dance, right in there.” She pointed to the front room. “And then Daddy would take turns dancing with us too. When we lost Daddy, we lost part of Momma too. The best part. But when Momma looks at you, she sees Daddy and that keeps her going. Maybe we all do.”

  If I had something to ask when Annette started talking, I didn’t now. This picture of my daddy, I’d never see in a picture frame or by watching my momma look out a window. My daddy dancing and laughing was the Daddy I wished I knew. But I could never miss him like they did because it was hard to miss something I never had.

  I could see Clarisse’s face after Momma slapped her. And hear her crying how Daddy was gone. Now I knew the hurt we all were feeling. Each in our own way.

  “I’m sorry, Annette,” I said.

  “Sorry for what?”

  “Sorry for not noticing.”

  In the dim light of the kitchen, Annette looked so tired. She rubbed my hand like Momma sometimes did. “Thank you, Clem. Maybe you’re not so dumb after all.”

  FORTY-FIVE

  Anthony told me we only had one more lesson before the season ended, and I tried to act like it didn’t make any difference to me, but swimming with Anthony was almost as good as going to the library every Saturday. Maybe better.

  At home I talked about Anthony so much, Annette asked me if I was in love with him.

  “He’s just a good teacher. You’d probably like him,” I said, and remembering my promise to Anthony, I added in, “as a boyfriend.”

  “When I need dating advice from you, I’ll let you know,” Annette told me, but she usually didn’t mind listening to my stories about how Anthony was helping me to swim.

  “I tried,” I told Anthony during our last lesson. “I told you, she’s not going to listen to me.”

  “Don’t worry, I got another plan,” Anthony said.

  We started warming up with stretches and the kickboard. And then Anthony watched as I practiced my freestyle.

  “You are so good now, you might just beat me,” he said, smiling.

  I smiled, wishing that was true.

  “I was thinking, because it’s our last day, we should have a kind of a celebration,” Anthony said.

  “Like cake and ice cream?” I asked, laughing.

  “Nah, like our own swim meet.”

  “Just me and you?” I asked, thinking Anthony must be out of his mind.

  I heard a door open, and I looked up scared, thinking it was Coach, coming to watch. I swam over to the edge of the pool, thinking if Coach saw me swimming now, he’d never let me on the swim team in high school. But it wasn’t Coach. It was Annette. And Clarisse and Momma. And that made me more scared than seeing the coach.

  “What—”

  “What do you think, Annette’s brother? Wanna race?” Anthony asked.

  I couldn’t make my mouth close.

  “Your sister wanted to see your first swim meet,” Anthony said.

  “You invited Annette here?” I said, grabbing the ladder to get out of the pool.

  “Nah, nah,” he said, grabbing my arm. “I promised to teach you to swim, and I did. You promised to make me look good in front of your sister. This is your chance. She sees you can swim, she’s gonna fall in love with me for sure.” Anthony laughed. “I guess she brought company.”

  Momma waved from the end of the pool.

  “Come on, just don’t beat me too bad,” Anthony said. From where I stood, it looked like Clarisse was already rolling her eyes, expecting me to drown and waste everyone’s time.

  I climbed down the ladder and stood in the pool again.

  I stared at the water in front of me. With Anthony I only swam from side to side, never the whole length of the pool and into the deep part.

  “It’s only twenty-five yards,” Anthony said. “You could doggy-paddle twenty-five yards.”

  It looked like a lot more than twenty-five yards to me. It looked like an ocean.

  I touched my stomach. But before I started wondering if it was going to start up again, Anthony yelled out, “Annette!”

  She looked over at us and waved.

  “Start us off,” Anthony said. He looked over at me and winked. “I’ll be right here next to you, Annette’s brother.”

  I dropped my hands to my sides and looked straight ahead.

  “Ready. Set. Go!” Annette yelled from the end of the pool.

  We both pushed off from the wall.

  I started slow, thinking about all Anthony had taught me, about my arms, legs, breathing, and head turning, and once I got all those things going together and realized I was moving, only then did I think about racing Anthony. He was going slow, I could tell, staying with me until I got myself together, and when I turned my head, there he was right at my side, smiling his big smile.

  “C’mon, Clem,” I could hear, fuzzy-sounding through the water. I didn’t know if it was my momma, Clarisse, Annette, or all three of them, and I didn’t care, I just knew I was swimming side by side with Anthony. My arms turned in time with his and my head turned to the side just as his was turning away, and for just one second, I saw my daddy, swimming right alongside me. I moved my arms faster and then as fast as I could make them, but Anthony started pulling away. I knew I was in the deep part, right in the middle of the pool. I didn’t look down. My head moved from side to side, and I was breathing in and out, in rhythm. Pretty soon I wasn’t looking at Anthony’s head, but at the bottoms of his feet through the splashing water, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t thinking anymore about making my arms and legs move, it was like they knew just what to do, so I kept on swimming, not stopping until my hand hit the wall of the pool.

  I grabbed the ledge and lifted my head, breathing hard and spitting out water. My chest felt like it was on fire. Everybody, even Anthony, was clapping. He was looking at Annette, but Annette and Momma and Clarisse were looking at me. I turned back and looked all the way down to the end of the pool where th
e starting blocks were. Twenty-five yards. An ocean. That may not seem like a long way for most folks, but for me, my momma, and my sisters, it felt like I just swam from here to the San Francisco Bay.

  FORTY-SIX

  Momma, Annette, and Clarisse talked with Anthony while I changed out of my swim trunks and back into my clothes. I could tell right away that Momma was impressed with how polite and smart Anthony was. It helped that Anthony was doing a lot of “Well, the pleasure was all mine, Mrs. Thurber” and “What a lovely family you have, Mrs. Thurber.” That last one he said looking at Annette. By the time I made my way back to them Anthony was saying, “Just give me a minute to change,” and running to the locker room.

  “Anthony is going to join us for supper,” Momma said to me, smiling. I looked over at Annette, but she was quiet. Clarisse hid her laugh behind her hand.

  On the walk home, Momma walked close to me. “Clem, for a minute, I thought you were going to beat Anthony, you were swimming so fast,” she said, laughing.

  “He slowed down for me, Momma,” I told her.

  “I am just… just so proud of you,” Momma said. I was expecting her to start wiping at her eyes, but when I looked up at her, she was smiling and happy. Like for the first time, she saw just me and not the part that reminds her of my daddy.

  While Momma was cooking dinner, Me and Anthony, Annette, and Clarisse sat in the front room. Annette was quiet but that didn’t slow down Anthony’s talking. He had all kinds of stories about his family, swim team, his plans to work at a camp for the summer. He and Clarisse even talked about college, and me and Annette almost fell over when Clarisse told Anthony she would most likely be attending Howard University.

  “They have a good swim team,” she told him. “You should apply.”

  By the time Momma called us in for dinner, he was telling us a story about a close call with a dog chasing him on his paper route.

  “So you also have a paper route?” Momma asked him.

  “Not anymore, ma’am. I had to give it up when I got my lifeguard job down at the YMCA,” he said.

  We bowed our heads in prayer and Anthony reached out to hold Annette’s hand. Before we closed our eyes, he winked at me.

  “Well, you are certainly very enterprising,” Momma said to Anthony. “A paper route and now a lifeguard.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Anthony said, helping himself to mashed potatoes. “I’m saving for college.”

  Momma looked over at Clarisse. One thing I know is that Clarisse didn’t care if we had company or not, she would say whatever she felt like saying back to Momma, so I jumped in. “How do you get a paper route?” I asked Anthony.

  “Well, you have to head down to the Chicago Defender office and talk to…” Anthony stopped. “Unless”—his mouth was full of food—“you want to take over my old route?” he asked.

  “Your old route?” All this time I’d been feeling like no one ever felt that I had something to contribute. Maybe now with a paper route, I could.

  “Sure. The route’s not far from here. You got to be an early riser, though, and—”

  “I’m an early riser, right, Momma?” I said, looking at Momma.

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “That’s half the battle right there. Getting up early, getting all your papers folded and ready to go. You’ll be finished with delivery by the time everybody else is just getting up. And then you head off to school. And the money’s not bad,” Anthony said, reaching for another piece of chicken.

  Finally, Annette spoke. “Thanks, Anthony, but I don’t know if that’s for Clem,” she said. “Not just yet.”

  “Why isn’t it?” I asked her.

  Everyone was quiet, and all we could hear was the sound of Anthony chewing.

  Anthony helped himself to thirds and kept talking like he didn’t notice everyone else was quiet. After he thanked Momma about a thousand times for dinner and her “gracious hospitality,” Annette finally saw him out.

  I had plenty of time to think while Clarisse and Momma started clearing the table. And even more while I waited until the last plate was cleared and the pots were in the sink soaking. And when Annette came back into the kitchen and Momma said to her, “That Anthony sure is sweet on you,” I stood up.

  “I’m doing it,” I told them.

  “Doing what exactly?” Clarisse said, looking bored.

  “The paper route.”

  “Now, Clem. I know how much you admire Anthony,” Momma said. “We all do—”

  “Especially Annette,” Clarisse said, smiling over at her.

  “Not now, Clarisse,” Momma told her. “Clem, I appreciate your wanting to take on more responsibility, but I don’t think—”

  “Momma, I’m taking over Anthony’s paper route. Anthony told me he started his when he was younger than me. I’m up early anyhow. I’ll deliver the papers and be back in time for school.”

  “Clem, I think what Momma is trying to say is that you are still—”

  “A baby? A little boy? Someone who can’t be trusted with anything? Someone who will get hurt if I’m not with my momma?”

  “Yes,” Clarisse said.

  “Clarisse!” Momma and Annette yelled at the same time.

  “But Clarisse is right, isn’t she? That’s exactly what you all think,” I said. I thought I’d feel like crying. But just like Kendrick said, I was too mad to let one tear go. I stood up straight.

  “If I’m a baby, it’s because you all won’t let me be nothing else,” I said, leaving out to go to my room.

  The next morning, we were quiet all through breakfast. Momma kissed me goodbye as she grabbed her purse.

  “Clem,” she said soft, looking into my eyes. “I’m not trying to treat you like a baby.” I waited. “I’m just trying to make sure you’re safe is all. You understand that, right?” I nodded. “Let’s talk when I get home,” Momma said, kissing me once more on top of my head before she left.

  I walked downstairs, past Errol’s apartment. It seemed like a million years ago that we walked to school together every day. Up ahead, I could see Langston waiting for me at the corner and I hurried to catch up.

  “That math homework was so hard last night, I thought my brain was going to catch fire,” Langston said, laughing, when I started walking beside him.

  Langston could tell something was wrong the way I didn’t have a whole lot to add.

  We walked a little further and then he asked, “What’s wrong?”

  And everything came out at once. “Whoa, slow down. Alabama style,” Langston said, smiling. He reminded me of Momma telling me to take my time telling a story. So I told it as slow as I could. So slow, we had to wait outside the school until the bell rang so I could finish.

  “And I am sick and tired of being treated like a baby when I’m not.”

  “So that’s what’s wrong,” Langston said to me.

  “That’s all you got?” I just about yelled.

  “Well, if you’re looking for me to give you an answer, wouldn’t I be treating you like a baby too?”

  Standing right here in front of me was my answer from the mouth of a country boy from Alabama, who happened to be one of the smartest people I knew.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  I thought I knew early morning in Chicago when I got up early with Momma and the light was just starting to come in through the windows. The city was so quiet then, like it was stuck in a game of freeze tag. But that early morning is nothing like the early morning of my paper route. It was the first time I woke up before Momma, walking quiet past her sleeping on the couch on my way to the bathroom to wash up. I got dressed every day in the clothes I laid out on my bed the night before, so I didn’t have to open and close any drawers or turn on the lights. The last thing I did before I left out every morning was take out the knife Kendrick gave me from under my mattress where I hid it since I got back from Milwaukee. I slipped that into my back pocket and headed out the front door.

  Cutting the twine wrapped around the pape
rs I folded for my route was all I needed my knife for, but feeling it my pocket reminded me of Kendrick and how there wasn’t much that scared him. I wished he could see me now, going door-to-door in the dark in Chicago, by myself delivering papers. I know I’ll probably never be like Kendrick, but I know too that just because I’m scared doesn’t mean I can’t feel brave too.

  After Anthony spoke to his boss at the Defender about me taking over his route, all I had to do was to go on downtown and shake hands with the newspaperman who was the boss over all the paper boys, get my addresses and my list of customers. It was like learning to swim all over again with Anthony going over each step until I was sure I had it and could do it on my own. He even wrote down his address on a piece of paper and told me he lived near my route. “If anything happens, knock on the door, and I’ll be there,” he told me. I’m not sure if Anthony will ever get Annette to fall in love with him, but I’m always gonna be rooting for him. Anthony didn’t know I made my own map, with every street on my route and an X marking off each house. I used it every day up until I could just about do my route with my eyes closed.

  When Momma saw how nothing she said was going to make me change my mind about the paper route, and Annette told her Anthony was going to help me by going over everything, she agreed to “see how it works out.” That was weeks ago and now it seemed no one barely noticed I was gone each morning and back in time for breakfast. My first pay wasn’t much and as bad as I wanted to buy a stack of new Batman comics and a new map, I gave every penny to Momma.

  “Clem, you earned this on your own, I can’t take it,” she said. But I put it in an envelope and left it on the table with her name on the front. When she opened it the next morning, she looked at me and smiled. “Are you my secret admirer?” she said, laughing, and then put it in her purse.

  When I talked to Langston about my paper route and my map and all the stories I read in the paper each morning, he said, “You thinking about taking over Abbott’s job one day? You could run the whole paper.”