Paint Chips

by Susie Finkbeiner

  “That’s right, Lola.” The man put his arm around Promise’s waist. She tried to pull away, but his fingers dug into her side. “This is my girl. You ain’t got no right to keep her from me here in this house. She’s my belonging.”

  “This young lady belongs to no one but Jesus.” Lola’s words were strong and confident. She walked down the porch steps slowly and with purpose. “Now, very kindly, be a gentleman if you are able, and take your hand off her.”

  He held her tighter.

  “I see.” She walked forward. “You wish to negotiate?”

  “What do you care about her?” he asked Lola. “You know what she done? You know she been dancing naked for me? She been lettin’ them do all that nasty stuff with her?”

  “Yes. I know that.”

  “Then you know she ain’t worth nothin’. She’s dirty.”

  “No more dirty than you or I.”

  He spat on the ground. “You can believe whatever you want about Jenny. But she ain’t comin’ back into that house today or ever. Just toss her stuff out the window and we’ll get outta here.”

  “Interesting. You know, sir, I don’t believe that she wants to go with you.”

  “It ain’t up to her.”

  “Actually, yes, it is up to her.” Lola turned to Promise, her voice reassuring. “Dear, I would like for you to go inside. Nesto needs his bottle.”

  Promise moved slowly from the man’s grip. He lunged, taking hold of the stroller. Nesto cried.

  “Jenny, you wouldn’t leave this little baby boy with a man like me. You know what I’d do to him, don’t ya?”

  Grace and Mercy rushed past me. Grace carried a baseball bat. Mercy had a broom stick.

  “That’s for the building fund.” Grace handed me a twenty dollar bill. Her face set with resolve. “I’ll pay the extra later.”

  A string of colorful words flowed from her mouth, far more than the twenty dollars’ worth. She cocked the bat behind her head, ready to attack. Mercy held the broom stick like a sword.

  “Ladies,” Lola said gently, but firmly. “Please put your weapons down. We don’t need either of you spending the night in jail again. I would hate to see this young man end up like the others.”

  “What you girls gonna do? You really think you scare me?” He looked them up and down. “Or do you want me to find you work too? I can tell you both had plenty experience.”

  “Just let me take him out, Lola. Jail don’t bother me none.” Grace tightened her grip on the baseball bat.

  “Probably just a no count, small time pimp wanna-be,” Mercy said. “Right? Working for somebody else and peeing your pants over losing a girl.”

  “Listen, I ain’t got no problem with y’all here. I just want Jenny to come back with me. I gots to get business goin’. I got bills. And Jenny’s body sure brings in the cash.”

  “Oh!” Lola clapped her hands together. “Now I understand. This is about money. See, I misunderstood. I was under the impression that you wanted Promise back because you missed her, not because you missed the money she earned for you.”

  He pushed his lips together into a cocky smirk. “Do you even know how much guys would pay to see her? And that ain’t nothin’ like what they pay to get with her. It wasn’t all bad for her, neither. She got half the cash.” He spat again. “Then she went and got herself knocked up. You know, them johns would still pay a good price for her then, too.”

  “You sick pig!” Mercy yelled at him.

  “Thank you, Mercy. But I really would rather you kept the commentary to yourself.” Lola paused. She looked at the man. “I need to apologize. With all the excitement I have forgotten my manners completely. What’s your name?”

  Caught off guard, he stammered. “It’s Taz. My name’s Taz.”

  “I suppose I should have been more specific. What is your given name?”

  “Um. Antonio. But my ma always called me Tony.” His guard fell slightly.

  “Well, Antonio, that is a fine name. Much better than Taz.” She walked closer to him and extended her hand. “I’m Lola.”

  As she shook his hand with her right, her left hand pushed Nesto’s stroller toward Grace and Mercy. The two quickly wheeled him up to the house. Antonio didn’t notice. He seemed to be under some kind of trance.

  “Promise, dear, I would like for you to go feed Nesto now. He must be very hungry. I have a few things to discuss with Antonio.”

  “No,” Promise mumbled stubbornly. “You don’t know how dangerous he is.”

  “Don’t worry about me, sweet soul. Your concern is very kind. But you really need to let me take care of this. I have had these discussions before. Do you understand? I may not know Antonio yet, but I have known many others like him. I assure you that there is nothing new under the sun.” Lola smiled tenderly at Promise. “Do you trust me?”

  Promise nodded her head.

  “Besides, we are being watched.” Lola pointed to all the houses around her. “Do you see them?”

  Promise and Antonio looked where she pointed. In the doorways and windows our neighbors stood watch.

  “Every one of them is waiting for me to cry out for their help. And I can tell you that they are all well armed. But I would rather not get them involved.”

  Antonio’s face turned from confident to nervous. He released his firm grip on Promise, and she ran to the house.

  “Come, Antonio, let’s sit ourselves down on that bench under the tree. I’ll have one of my friends get us a cup of coffee. Do you like coffee?”

  “Yeah, sure,” he said, walking with Lola to the bench.

  “Do you take cream and sugar?” I asked from the porch. I tried to see him as Jesus. Or at least to heap burning coals on his head.

  “Yup. Both. Lots.” He looked at me, confused. “Please.”

  “Okay.” I retreated to the house.

  I walked past Promise on my way to the kitchen. She sat on the steps feeding the baby. Her tears splattered on his T-shirt. The other girls were huddled near the window, silently watching Lola.

  Trying to control my shaking, I poured coffee into two mugs. Shallow, wheezy breaths caused my head to spin.

  “Don’t be anxious,” I whispered to myself.

  Walking back out to the bench, I forced steady streams of air deeper into my lungs. Intentional steps delivered me to Lola’s side.

  “Oh, thank you,” Lola said, not looking at me as I handed her the mugs. “Next, would you please get the building fund jar? I believe a few contributions were made to it this afternoon.”

  “She only put twenty dollars in. She’ll have to pay back the rest next week,” I said, my voice trembling.

  “Right. Well, can you please get it just the same? Also my purse.”

  Fear attacked my vision as I returned to the house, making each barefoot step blurry. I gripped the railing as I climbed the stairs to Lola’s room. Inside her room, the jar sat on her dresser. Her purse hung in the small closet. I grabbed them both.

  Walking back down the steps, I blinked my eyes hard, trying to clear up the frazzled feeling of terror that spread through my whole body. I feared for Lola. That the man next to her hid a knife or gun in his pocket. That by the time the neighbors came to help, it would be too late. I rushed down the remaining steps and out to the bench.

  I placed the purse and jar in Lola’s lap.

  “Now, Antonio, you said that Promise had great earning power. How much would it cost for you to leave her alone?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered.

  “How is it that you don’t know? You seemed quite certain only a few moments ago.”

  “I said I don’t know,” this time with more force.

  “Okay. How about a ballpark figure. One hundred? Two hundred?”

  He eyed the jar. Then he looked at the house.

  “You see,” Lola spoke quietly. “Promise deserves to be free. She doesn’t need you coming around here making trouble for her and Nesto. She is a new mother and she is trying to s
tart her life over. She needs peace and calm.”

  “I understand that. But you don’t have any idea what she brought in every night for me.”

  “Then just tell me what it is you want and I will pay your price.”

  “One thousand,” he said quickly. “And I ain’t gonna get talked down just ’cause you got your thugs out there with me in their sights.”

  “Well, then. One thousand it is.”

  My panic deepened, thudding in my gut. There was no way we had one thousand dollars. Not even close. We’d just used most of the building fund to put toward a new water heater.

  Lola started counting the money. She pulled out dollar by dollar. It looked like for every bill she removed another took its place.

  “Well, how about that. Nine-hundred and forty-two bucks,” she said, beaming.

  “That ain’t enough,” Antonio said.

  “No, Antonio, it isn’t. Please be patient. Let me see what I have in my purse.”

  Lola took all the money out of her wallet, even emptying her change purse. Fifty-eight dollars.

  “That’s one thousand dollars exactly.” She shoved all the money into the jar. “And you may keep that container as well. I doubt all those bills would fit into your pockets.”

  “Oh.” Antonio took the jar and looked around again.

  “Antonio, I have to tell you something. That money means that you may never, ever talk to our Promise again.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And you can never come to this neighborhood again. All of my friends out there will remember you and they will take your life if they see you here. You are aware of that, right?”

  “I think so.”

  “And I really want you to live a full life. I would love to know that you have done wonderful things in this world.”

  I heard him sniffle. He turned his head from Lola.

  “You were not born to pimp or hustle or exploit women, children, or anyone else. You were created to do something beautiful for Jesus. And you need to let Him do that with your life. If you let Him, He’ll help you figure out what that something beautiful is.” She put her hand on the nape of his neck. “You need to go see my friend at the mission on Division Avenue. You know that one with the cross?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good. Go there right away. Ask for Russ. Tell him that Lola sent you. I trust you will go.” She patted his back.

  “You know that baby in there? Jenny’s baby?” His voice trembled.

  “Yes. Nesto.”

  “I think he’s my kid.”

  “You think so?” She spoke to him with much love in her voice. “And this was the first time you’ve seen him?”

  “Yeah.” He wiped his eyes. “I don’t know why I’m tellin’ you all this.”

  “It’s okay. You can trust me.” She took her hand off his back. “How does it feel to be a father?”

  “I don’t know. A man like me shouldn’t have nothin’ to do with a baby. I ain’t fit to be a daddy. Well, you know, that kind of daddy. I’d just turn out to be like my father was.”

  “What was your father like?”

  “He was a pimp. He let his friends hurt me. You know, touch me and stuff.” He pounded his leg with his fist. “I don’t want that kind of thing to happen to Nesto.”

  “I’m very sorry that happened to you, Antonio.”

  “Yeah. And my ma was a hooker too. I guess it was just the family business.”

  “I’m glad you want more for your son.”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s a very unselfish thing for you to desire. I’m proud of you.”

  “I ain’t worth that.”

  “You are.”

  “I don’t know how to clean up my life, Lola.” He looked at her, his eyes red. “I don’t know how to fix what I’ve messed up.”

  “Talk to Russ at the mission. He’ll be able to help you. And I will pray for you every day for the rest of my life.”

  “Thank you.”

  “There will be days when you will be less than thankful for my prayers. God is going to work amazing things in your life. But they won’t be easy changes for you. Just don’t resist Him. He can be quite persistent.” She stood, taking Antonio’s hand and pulling him up. “Let me walk you to the end of the street. I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

  “You could have called the cops on me.” Antonio cradled the jar. “You’re too nice.”

  “Oh, I’m not all that nice. Believe me.”

  “But you were nice to me. And you didn’t have to be.”

  “Antonio, I see Jesus in your eyes. And the Jesus inside me helps me to be nice. See, we aren’t too different, you and me. We both need Jesus to work in our lives. The only difference is that you still need to learn that He is what is best for you.”

  “Nah. I’m too bad. Jesus don’t want me.”

  “Oh, son, He does. He desperately does.” She smiled at him. “Now, you use that money for good. No drugs, no women. You understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  They walked to the corner, hand in hand. She let their arms swing in rhythm with their steps.

  I wished that she was my mom. Then I instantly felt horrible for that thought. But there were moments, many of them, when I would look at Lola and see glimpses of my mom from before everything went wrong.

  Lola walked alone back to the porch. Only when her feet were back on our steps did we allow ourselves to sigh in relief. Exhausted, she smiled and went straight to Promise, hugging her.

  “I’m fine,” Promise said, releasing herself from Lola’s arms. “I could’a took care of it myself.”

  Lola looked at her and smiled. “Well, I’m glad we won’t have to find out.”

  “I swear I ain’t never seen nobody talk to Taz like that. You’re either stupid or ballsy.”

  “Hey, Promise. Why don’t ya try a little appreciation. Lola just saved your butt,” Peace said. “Say ‘thank you.’ Ain’t so hard.”

  “Whatever.” Promise handed Nesto off to Grace. “I’m tired.”

  She walked up the steps. I watched her, fists clenched, my fingernails digging into the palm of my hands.

  “Let’s go make dinner.” Lola turned toward the kitchen, seeming not to notice Promise’s attitude. “I’ll teach you all how to make pot pie.”

  Somehow, the tension broke as we cut up vegetables and rolled the dough. Lola pushed the tray of pot pies into the oven.

  “Man, Grace,” Mercy said, wiping the counter. “We totally had that punk. Lola, you should’a let us take him down.”

  “Heck, yeah!” Grace laughed, still holding the baby.

  “I, on the other hand, am perfectly pleased with the way God handled the situation.” Lola set the timer.

  “Yeah, He used Grace’s filthy mouth to save Promise,” Faith said. “I guess He can use just about anything.”

  “Naw, I ain’t never said that many cuss words in all my life.” Grace laughed. “Well, that might not be totally true.”

  “Don’t forget, my dear, you still owe about fifteen dollars.” Lola smiled. “And thank you for your contributions to the building.”

  “There ain’t a jar no more,” Grace said.

  “Ah, very true.” Lola opened the pantry and pulled out another large canning jar. “However, I believe this will do well enough.”

  Together, we set the table before eating our dinner. Then cleared and cleaned the dishes. Like a family. Eventually, we all split up to go about our evening.

  Lola sat at the kitchen table with her Bible and a notebook. I poured two cups of coffee. Put one in front of her before I sat in my chair.

  “Thank you, Dorothea.” She sipped. “The perfect cup of coffee.”

  “What a day, huh?”

  “Indeed. On days like these I am ever grateful for the protection of the Lord.” Lola flipped a page in her Bible. “And He has never failed to provide for our needs. I feel like it’s Thanksgiving in my heart.”

 
“How did all that money get in the jar?” I asked. “I know it wasn’t Grace.”

  “The only way it could have gotten there was by God’s provision. I was praying that He would give us enough to satisfy Antonio so he would leave Promise and Nesto alone.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Lola. That kind of stuff doesn’t really happen, does it?”

  “Well, it isn’t unprecedented. After all, He did feed five thousand people on two separate occasions. I would think that a few hundred dollars is a much easier feat to arrange.”

  “And you really think that He wanted to do that for us?”

  “I do. He saw that we had a need and that we were willing to share. So, He made it happen, right here.”

  “Is paying off a pimp the same as being willing to share?”

  “Oh, I think we’ll see something come from this. I have a feeling that Antonio is going to undergo some pretty significant growth tonight. You’ll see.” She finished off her coffee and got up for more. “You’ll see, Dorothea.”

  ~*~

  The next morning Peace found the jar in the mailbox. All the money still inside it. A small piece of paper was folded up among the bills.

  “For Nesto. Tell Jenny I’m sorry.”

  Lola didn’t come out of her room until ten a.m. Very late for her. She’d been up all night. I knew she spent all that time on her knees for Antonio.

  The returned money didn’t surprise her at all. She simply took the jar to the bank and opened a college fund in Nesto’s name.

  Cora – 13

  An orderly guided me down the hallway toward an open door. He led me with a hand on my elbow past the dayroom, the nurses’ station, the shower room.

  Dr. Emmert peeked out the door, waiting for me. He smiled warmly and with his eyes. I looked away instantly. I most certainly didn’t want to be smiled at. Not on that day.

  It had been nine years to the day that I watched Steven board a plane. The last time I saw him. I would have rather spent the day in my room under heavy medication. However, I had little choice in the matter. The meetings with Dr. Emmert were required.

  “Cora! How are you today?”