Still on the porch, I heard my mother picking up the mess my father created in the living room. Titus retreated to the back and chopped up logs for firewood. As if their lives reset and Marlowe had never belonged with us in the first place.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t carry on. All I could think was how I’d been cut in half. I’ve heard that some identical twins are able to feel each other’s pain. My body and soul hurt all the time. Oh, what she must have lived through.
And I wondered if she could feel how I missed her. I prayed that she could know somehow and that it would comfort her in at least a small way. I didn’t want her to think our lives moved right along without her.
My father didn’t come home that night or the next. He spent more and more time at Ducky’s. I didn’t know if that was a good thing. But as for mother, Titus, and me, life became quiet, peaceful.
On rare occasions, he returned home to pass out on his bed. His stench took over every inch of the house with smoke and booze and sweat. Those smells had the power to make me nauseous well into my adulthood. To send me into a panic.
My father stopped going to the mines. And yet somehow he had cash. I wondered what happened at that horrible place. I wondered what Marlowe was doing and what he did to make so much money.
~*~
“Cora, are you okay?” Lisa asked.
“Yes,” I answered, shaken from the memory. “Why?”
“Well, my hand.”
I looked down at my hand, so tightly gripping hers that her fingers turned purple. I let go, horrified that I’d hurt her.
“I’m so sorry, Lisa.”
“It’s okay.” She wiggled her fingers. “How about we stop there for today? We can pick it back up tomorrow. How does that sound to you?”
“That’s fine.” I paused. “You know, this may sound strange to you, but I actually look forward to telling you more tomorrow.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I can feel a little of the burden lessening. It’s as if I wasn’t able to breathe before. Right now I just feel so much lighter.”
“That’s wonderful, Cora. I’m really glad to hear that.” She stood. “And tomorrow will be just a little better with that chocolate chip cookie.”
“I’m really looking forward to that, too.”
Dot – 28
“Lola! What the George Herbert Walker Bush am I supposed to put as my high school?” I asked, more than a little aggravated.
I sat at the kitchen table, filling out my college application. Every question made me more anxious than the last. My stomach turned and flipped and flopped. I was terrified that the smallest mistake would keep me from being accepted.
“Just put ‘Lola’s Fabulous Home School,’” Lola said. “And kudos for the old school President Bush reference. I didn’t realize you were a Republican.”
“Old school, Lola? Really?” Promise said, rolling her eyes.
“Oh, snap, young lady. I am far more hip to the fizzle than you think,” Lola said, pushing up her glasses. “Don’t let the washed-up hippie look mislead you.”
“I can’t put that on an application.” I said, grumpy. “Stop trying to make fun of this. It’s really important, in case you were wondering. I mean, this is kind of my entire flipping future here.”
“No need to get so heated, Dorothea. You’re taking it a tad bit too seriously. You’re as good as enrolled. This application process is simply a formality.” Lola reassured me, as always. I tried to not let it annoy me.
“I know. I’m sorry.” I said. “I’m just kind of afraid that it’s not going to be perfect.”
“Well, I think that’s a slightly too lofty goal. Don’t you worry about tomorrow, Dorothea. Today has plenty of trouble of its own.”
“Cite your source, please.” I smiled.
“Yes. That was Jesus.” She pointed to the application. “You would do well to simply write ‘home school.’ They may ask questions should they have any. And you don’t need to worry. You are far more precious than the lilies or the birds.”
“Okay.” I wrote on the application. “I feel better now. Thanks.”
“Very good. Now, this superfly chica needs to get back to the endless mountains of laundry in the basement.” She put her fingers into a V. “Peace out, home slices.”
She strutted out of the room, leaving Promise and me in the kitchen.
“She’s insane,” I said.
Promise grabbed a piece of cheese from the refrigerator and hopped onto the counter.
“Seriously, Promise. Lola would make you put a quarter in the pizza night fund if she saw you up there,” I said.
She slid down and walked to Lola’s chair. As I watched her move across the room, I envied her body. Curvy and pretty and tall. She looked older, more mature. Watching her, I sat up straighter, held in my stomach.
“Hey, so, can I talk to you for a sec?” she asked, sitting down.
“Sure.” I looked back at my application.
“Do you think I’m a good mom? I mean, do I do a good job with Nesto?”
“I guess. I don’t know. What would I know about how a mom should act?”
“The other girls say you had a good mom. Ain’t that right?” She pulled her legs up under her on the chair.
“Yeah.” I looked up at her. Her eyes seemed to see right through me.
“Here’s the thing, I don’t remember my mom being nice to me or nothing. So I don’t know if I’m being a nice mom.” She broke the cheese into crumbles before placing one on her tongue, never taking her eyes off me. “I thought you of all people would want to give me some help.”
Her voice sounded strange. Kind of flat. I couldn’t put my finger on what my instincts tried to tell me. Life on the streets trained me to sense danger. I knew that I needed to be careful.
“Well, Promise, I think all a mom really has to do is keep the baby fed and clean, right?” I looked at her eyes, trying to read what she thought. “What are you so worried about?”
“Everything.” Her blue eyes were dull. I could tell she worked hard to keep emotion out of them. “I’m scared that I won’t be able to help him grow up.”
“You’ll be fine.” I looked back down.
“Here’s the thing, though. I think I’m gonna give Nesto up.”
“Give him up?” I put my pen on the table and leaned back in my chair. “What’s that mean?”
“I’m gonna let somebody adopt him.”
“Seriously? You know you couldn’t ever get him back, right?”
“Yeah. And neither would his dad. And that’s kind of the point.”
“Have you talked to Lola about this?”
“Nope. And I ain’t gonna.” She pointed at me, threatening. “And neither are you.”
“What?”
“Listen, Dorothea, I ain’t sticking around here. This place just ain’t for me.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“I can’t live with all these rules, you know? It’s all holding me back and stuff. I feel like I went from having a pimp tell me what to do to having an old lady do it.”
“That’s stupid, Promise. Your pimp never loved you. You know that. And Lola does.”
“How do you know Taz never loved me?” She raised her voice. Almost shrill.
We stared each other down. She maintained her tough attitude. I couldn’t see anything but anger.
“So, what, you just want to go back to Taz?” I asked, breaking eye contact.
“Nah. He ain’t husslin’ no more. Besides, I think I could get more.” She stood up. “There’s a new place up north. They need dancers.”
“You don’t want to do that, Promise.”
“Why not? They said I could make six figures the first year. You know what I could do with that money? It’s better than the track.”
“But it isn’t worth it.”
“Sure it is. It’s only like four hours a day. And you keep all the tips.”
“But you aren’t even eighteen yet.
You can’t work there.”
She snorted. “Like they even care. Nobody asks your age when they’re sticking tens and twenties down your pants.”
“It’s just so dangerous.”
“No it ain’t. They got bouncers there if anybody gets too grabby. It’s fine. Plus, I get all the drinks I want.”
“Promise, I don’t think you should do this.”
“Shoot, what else do you think I got going for me?”
“You could finish up your GED, go to college, get a good job.”
“I can’t get a job making more than one hundred thousand a year. Seriously. A girl like me is made for just one thing.” She moved her hands down her sides to her hips.
“That’s not true,” I said. “You’re more than just that.”
She moved closer to me, squatted down close to my face.
“I think you should come with me.” Her voice changed. A sweet, coaxing whisper.
“No,” I said, firmly.
“I’m serious.” Her eyes moved up and down my body. I shifted in my seat, trying to shield my body from her ogle. I hadn’t felt so uncomfortable since my days on the track. “You got the look, honey. Guys love the ‘good-girl-gone-bad’ look. You know. We could dye that dark hair blond. Put in some pigtails. A little makeup could really make them puppy dog eyes drive the guys crazy. We’d play up the school girl thing and they wouldn’t even care that you’re small up top.”
“No.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“And you wouldn’t have to ask permission to call your little boyfriend. I wouldn’t even care if he stayed over so you guys could—you know.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” I looked away from her. “And even if he was, we wouldn’t be sleeping together.”
“Just a few nights of dancing a week, Dorothea, and you’d have your whole college bill paid off.”
“But that’s not a problem. I’m getting a scholarship.”
“You don’t really want to go to that school, do you? It’s all Lola’s idea. She’s just trying to control you after you leave this place. You know they got a curfew there, right? Grace told me that.”
“Yes. But that’s kind of normal.”
“And Lola’s trying to keep you close. I don’t know, I think she’s got a strange thing for you.” She put a hand on my knee. “She looks at you all the time.”
“That’s crazy.”
“I’ve got a place already lined up. Two bedroom apartment, all the stuff’s in it already. Couches, beds, everything. We could get a car. Man, can you imagine how free we’d be with a car?” She moved her hand on my thigh. “Come on, Dot.”
“Don’t call me that.” I pushed her hand off. She put it back.
“We could sneak out of here tonight. Stay somewhere downtown till we can get a ride to that apartment. It’ll be fun.” She smiled. “I know a guy who’d let us crash at his place for a couple nights.”
“That doesn’t sound like a good idea to me, Promise.”
“So, what are you saying?”
“No. I’m saying no.”
Promise’s knees cracked as she stood up straight. She put her fingertips on my forehead and shoved me.
“Whatever. I don’t need you.”
“What the heck, Promise.”
“My name’s Jenny,” she said, her voice harsh. “I don’t know why everybody around here has to get a different name. It’s weird.”
“It’s not weird.”
“And what about you? You’re the only one that gets to keep her name. Don’t even tell me that you ain’t Lola’s favorite.”
“It’s different.”
“How? How’s it different? Just ’cause you was raised rich? Huh? Or ’cause your parents weren’t complete jerks?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re right you don’t know. You don’t got to know nothing. You’re a rich kid who thinks she knows everything. Like you can fix everybody’s problems.”
“I wasn’t rich.”
“You think you’re so much better than all us. Here I am, trying to help you out. Trying to get you a good job. But, no, that’s not good enough for you. You’re just too high and mighty for that. But it’s okay for me to do, right?”
“No, I don’t think you should do it either.”
“Why? Are you jealous that I’d be making so much?”
“I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
“Right. Whatever.”
“I’m serious.”
Promise picked up my application and threw it on the floor. “You think you’re so much better than everybody else. But you ain’t any different. All you are is a washed-up old hooker just like the rest of us. Isn’t that right? Maybe I should figure out a way to tell that cute little boyfriend of yours.”
“Promise, not another word.” Lola stood in the doorway, holding a basket of laundry. She spoke with a gentle firmness. “Let me make one thing very clear, your tone is completely out of order. I don’t allow anyone to speak like that to another person in this house.”
“What? You gonna make me put a quarter in a jar?” Promise asked, turning toward Lola.
“Excuse me, Promise, you need to be quiet and listen.” Lola put the basket on the floor. “I don’t know what this conversation was about. It’s not my business unless either of you decided to discuss it with me. However, if you are struggling here, I’d like to know so that I’m able to help you.”
“I don’t want Nesto no more.” Promise looked straight into Lola’s eyes, put her hands on her hips. “I want to put him up for adoption.”
“I understand that. First thing in the morning I’ll take you to speak with my friend from Christian adoption services. She can walk you through the options.”
“And I wanna leave.”
“As for that, I’m afraid that option is completely off the table. You’re under eighteen. If you left this house you’d be a runaway and that goes against the agreement you made with your case worker.”
“I’ve been a runaway most of my life.”
“And how did that work for you in the past?” Lola raised her eyebrows.
“I did okay.” Promise turned around, her back to me.
“Well, that’s arguable.” Lola went toward Promise. “How about this, Promise...”
“I want you to call me Jenny.” She turned back around. “I hate being called Promise.”
“Okay. I’m sorry about that, Jenny,” Lola said. “How about we compromise a little? You agree to stay in this home for one more month. If you’re still convinced that you should move along, I’ll call your case worker in for a meeting. However, if you’d like to remain here I would be so very thankful for that. Either way, I will always have a special place in my heart for you. I know that you are so much more than this hard shield that you put up. You are a beautiful and wonderful daughter of God.”
“Whatever. Yeah. I’ll stay for one month. But that’s it.”
“Listen, Jenny,” I said. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I thought I was better than you.”
She looked at me and raised her middle finger, sneering. Then turned and walked out of the kitchen.
Cora -29
Lisa delivered, as promised, the biggest cookie I’d ever seen. She had me hold it next to my face for comparison and took a picture of me with her cell phone.
“Oh, this is a great picture,” she said, turning the phone so I could see.
“I am so old,” I said, looking at the wiry, silver hair and the lines on my face. I took a bite of the cookie in an effort to forget about perfection for a minute. It was delicious. I intended to eat the entire thing.
“If I ever bake again I think I’ll try and make a batch of cookies this size.” I spoke with my mouth full.
“Are you a baker? I guess I should have just figured that about you.” Lisa bit into her cookie. “I can bring some ingredients with me tomorrow so you can make some giant cookies if you’d like.”
“Oh, that’s all ri
ght,” I said. “What if I’ve lost my touch? It’s been so long since I baked. I wouldn’t remember any of my recipes.”
“It might take a little practice. But that would be okay, wouldn’t it?”
“I think it would make me so sad if they didn’t come out perfect. It would be disappointing.”
“Well, then you could just try again.”
“I always forget about that option.” It felt nice to have someone give me little nudges. “Are you ready to hear some more of my story?”
“I am. But first I wanted to ask you a question about Marlowe’s removal from your home.”
“Okay.”
“Didn’t anyone notice that she was gone? That’s been bugging me since yesterday. How did no one figure that out and try to help you?”
“That’s an interesting question, Lisa.”
~*~
There was only one school on the mountain. It had a single classroom, which all the different age groups shared. The teacher was from Lexington. A young, inexperienced city girl who liked to think that she was making a difference for the Lord by reaching out to the poor mountain kids.
The children at that school were harsh, hateful and cruel. Nothing more than the reflection of their parents’ prejudices and toxic ideals.
“Cora, that’s a right fine dress ya wearin’,” one of the girls would say, her friends giggling next to her. “Think I seen it before. Oh, I remember. I throwed that raggedy ol’ dress out in my trash bin last week. Poor little Cora’s a raggedy trash digger.”
“Look at his bones all stickin’ out.” The boys hounded Titus. “You is such a sissy girl.”
They called out insults at us all day long. During class, if we raised our hands to answer a question they made fun of our odor. At lunch they teased us for having nothing more to eat than fried dough. After school they ridiculed us for the holes in our shoes.
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