At the close of the service, the hymn was announced, and Mabel tried to get the organ going. When she couldn’t, Boris picked up the tune, and we all sang “Blest Be the Tie That Binds.” That hymn always makes my heart tender toward all those hard-to-get-along-with brothers and sisters in Christ.
As we sat there waiting for the young people to remove the flowers and take them out to the grave, I could see Mabel Elmwood up there at the organ so mortified her face was all primped up, ready to bust out crying. I could be a little nicer to her, I thought.
When everything was in order at the burial site, Elmer ushered us outside. We had only a short distance to walk to the graveyard. The Jones funeral tent was set up out there with chairs enough for us who were serving as the family.
Pastor Osborne stood with his Bible open, waiting until the people had gathered around the tent. Then he began reading, “‘Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not for such is the kingdom of heaven.’” Closing the Bible, he told us, “I’m looking down at the faces of three little children, and their beautiful dark eyes are looking up at me with that innocence all of us had when we were their age. . . . Our innocence was short-lived, wasn’t it? Growing older, we sinned in many ways, didn’t we? Fortunately, there is a way whereby we can be made innocent again, as innocent as Carlos, Rios, and Angelica are today. That innocence is a gift. It comes to us when we transfer all our guilt onto Jesus. He takes the judgment, and we are acquitted, declared innocent once again. We stand before God the Father, not in our sins but in the righteousness of Christ.”
Then Pastor Osborne reached down and took Angelica in his arms. Holding her, he walked a few steps back and forth, giving everyone an opportunity to see her. Then he quoted more of Jesus’ words: “‘Except ye be converted and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. . . . Whosoever, therefore, shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven. . . . And whosoever shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me.’”
Before he put Angelica down, he motioned to the boys to stand up. “Maria’s children have learned a song they’re going to sing for us.”
Lucy placed Angelica between Carlos and Rios, and the boys held their sister’s hands. I was afraid they would be too shy to sing, but once Lucy got them started, their sweet little voices began to sing in Spanish “Jesus Loves Me.”
Boris removed the roses from the vase.
I reached in my bottomless pit for tissues, pulled out a handful, and handed them to him so he could wrap the stems. He handed one rose to each of the children and helped them lay the roses on their mother’s casket. Then Boris gave Carlos the fourth rose. Lucy whispered something to him, and Carlos handed the rose to Betty. Betty hugged and kissed him.
As far as I could tell, there was not a dry eye in the crowd.
22
After the funeral I hardly had time to catch my breath before packing a bag and going to see what I could do for Beatrice. It was hard to believe that she would risk what she had going with Carl to let Percy Poteat bamboozle her. But a man like that knows what a woman like Beatrice wants to hear—“I need you” or some such tommyrot.
Horace offered to drive me to the bus station, so I let him. On the way into town, he was full of talk. “Esmeralda, now that my days are numbered, I have got to get busy doing things for the Lord.”
“Well, Horace—”
“That funeral must’ve cost a bundle. Boris said the Apostolic youth are going to have car washes to help pay, but car washes won’t do it. I know lots of people in town who’ll shell out for something like this, so I’m going around and collecting as much as I can get. If it ain’t enough, I’ll ask Elmer to donate a microwave or something else we can raffle off.”
“You will do no such thing, Horace. Apostolic people don’t beg, and we don’t raffle stuff off. The Lord will provide in his own way. If somebody wants to give toward the expenses, they will give without being asked.”
The car was headed for the ditch. “Look out!” I yelled.
Horace righted the cruiser and slowed down to a snail’s pace. “Esmeralda, I don’t understand you church people. You’d be a lot better off if you ran it like a business. There’s foundations and grants with plenty of money to give away, but you’re too proud to ask for it. Well, it’s your church and you can rock along in the same old ruts if you want to. All I want to do is make it up to the Lord for what I’ve done wrong so when I face him, he’ll let me in.”
“You can’t make it up, Horace.”
“Whadda you mean I can’t make it up? I don’t believe that. I’m desperate, Esmeralda. I’m so desperate I’ve decided to give my truck to Elijah.” He kept slapping the steering wheel again and again. “I love that old Ford, and I wouldn’t part with it for love nor money if I wasn’t desperate. It ain’t that I can’t get by without it. I can. If I’m not driving a city vehicle, I’ll have the cruiser. It’s just that I hate to part with that old truck. It’s been setting up on cement blocks in the backyard, but as soon as I get it fixed, I’ll see Elijah gets it.”
I looked over at his grim face. “That’s good, Horace. He’ll appreciate it. But don’t think for one minute that will take you to heaven.”
“Well, I can do more.”
We were rolling into the bus station, and I could see my bus had arrived and was ready to pull out. As I climbed out of the cruiser, I told him, “Horace, what you need to do is go see Pastor Osborne. Ask him how to get to heaven.”
Horace lifted my bag out of the trunk and set it down beside the bus. The driver ticketed it and stashed it in the baggage compartment. “Wanna check your shopping bag?” he asked. I told him no, I’d take it on board. The shopping bag was full of canned stuff for Beatrice, and I didn’t want to risk the jars getting broke.
The driver jumped on the bus and slid under the wheel, ready to go. I put my foot on the step so he couldn’t leave me behind. “Now, Horace, you go see Pastor Osborne.”
“Okay. I’ll do that,” he said.
The driver revved up the motor. “Let’s go, lady!”
“Just a minute,” I said. “Another thing—go see Dr. Elsie.”
The bus lurched forward, and I had to step inside quick. The driver shut the door behind me, so I couldn’t hear what Horace was saying. Before I could get sat down, that bus swerved around the station and went sailing down the street.
I didn’t realize how tired I was until I sat on that bus. I settled back in the seat, knowing I’d fall asleep once we were on the road. What lay ahead was not going to be easy, but as I mulled over the situation I came up with an ace or two up my sleeve.
With that all decided, I slept most of the way to Piney Woods Crossroad, even though the bus stopped ever so often to pick up more passengers. I’d open my eyes to see who was coming on board, but I didn’t know any of them. So I’d close my eyes again, and the sound of the singing tires would put me right out in no time flat.
I woke up for good when we slowed down getting into town. With one hand I got a grip on my shopping bag and with the other hand I held on to my bottomless pit. I sat forward in my seat, anxious to see if Carl would bring Beatrice to meet me. It sure better not be Percy on that motorcycle! I thought.
The bus rolled into the station, wheezing and spewing fumes enough to pollute the whole town. Making my way down the aisle behind a lot of fat people, I craned my neck trying to spot Beatrice, but I didn’t see her.
In fact, when I got off the bus, I didn’t see her for a full minute. If she hadn’t called my name, I might’ve missed her because she did not look like the same person. Upon my word, she looked great—some meat on her bones had done wonders, and she was all decked out in a neat little yellow suit with piping trim and a pale yellow blouse. I couldn’t believe my eyes!
We hugged, and I saw a young man in back of her who looked like he was waiting to be introduced.
“Esmeralda, this is Jim, the man wh
o lives upstairs.”
We shook hands, and he said we could go on to the car, that he’d get my bag for me.
Beatrice and I went to the car to wait, and after I told her how good she looked, I asked her, “I thought Carl might bring you to the station to meet me. Is he working?”
“No, he’s not working today.”
She went silent on me. I stood it as long as I could. “Why didn’t he come?”
She sighed. “Carl hasn’t been around the last couple of days.”
“I see.” Well, I didn’t have to ask why. The reason was Percy Poteat. I could see it would take every ace I had got to get this thing straightened out.
Sure enough, when Jim pulled to a stop in front of the apartment, there was Percy’s Harley parked under a shade tree, and his fat self was sitting on the porch, eating a banana.
You would’ve thought I was the Queen of England the way he greeted me. He even tried to give me a hug! But I just brushed right past him. Jim brought in my stuff, and I took the shopping bag to the kitchen to show Beatrice what I had brought her. Wouldn’t you know it, Percy followed us into the kitchen like he owned the place.
I turned on him. “Percy, I have come all this distance to see Beatrice, not you. You go upstairs with Jim or go anywhere you like, just leave us be. I intend to visit with Beatrice, and I’d just as soon not see your face.”
He laughed. “Esmeralda, you don’t mince words, do you? Okay, I’ll go upstairs. There’s a game on, but I’ll be down at suppertime.”
I watched him leave the room, then went in the bathroom to freshen up. When I came out, Beatrice had tears in her eyes.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“Come sit on the couch with me,” she said.
I did and waited to hear whatever it was she had to say.
“Esmeralda, it’s been a long time since I have heard you talk that way to somebody.”
“What do you mean?”
She took a deep breath. “It’s the way you use to be before Bud came home from the war. Back then, if anybody crossed you, you were quick to take off their head.”
I laughed. “Oh, I did not!”
“Yes, you did. Remember years ago how you hurt Clara’s feelings so bad she dropped out of the youth group? You even laughed about it.”
I felt my face flushing.
“I was about the only friend you had,” Beatrice went on. “People just wouldn’t put up with the way you treated them, but that didn’t bother you one bit . . .”
“What do you mean?”
“Esmeralda, I don’t think you ever realized this, but when Bud started dating you, you were on top of the world. . . . All the girls were jealous that the biggest catch in Live Oaks was sweet on you. Then when you two got married, people used to say it went to your head.”
I was shocked at that, but I was doubly shocked that I was hearing this stuff from Beatrice!
“Bud spoiled you, Esmeralda—gave you everything you wanted. You were pretty selfish, remember?”
“Was I?”
Beatrice nodded her head. “You would go shopping and buy everything for yourself and nothing for Bud.”
That hurt me to the quick. I guess it hurt so bad because it was the truth. After Bud came back from the war, I realized how selfish I had been. In our early years together we never had a cross word, but I wish Bud had not been so sweet to me. If only he had put a stop to the way I treated him and everybody else, maybe I would have changed. After he came home from the war, I use to cry and try to make him understand I was sorry, but it was too late. There was nothing left of Bud but pain. I know the Lord forgave me, but many a night I cried myself to sleep over it. Finally I had to block it out of my mind.
“I hate to say this, Esmeralda, but you ran over people and you was selfish. But then you changed . . . Bud coming home in such terrible shape, well, I think it melted your heart.”
There was a lump in my throat. I didn’t want to start crying, so I went in the kitchen and got a drink of water. When I came back, Beatrice was curled up on one end of the couch, and I could see she was not finished with what she wanted to say.
I sat down next to her. “You say I changed?”
“Yes, Esmeralda, you changed. All those years you were taking care of Bud, little by little you changed . . . you changed for the better.”
“In what ways did I change?”
“Well, all that suffering made you tenderhearted . . . I mean, you became so mindful of other people . . . you would give the shirt off your back to help anybody. I don’t think there is a more unselfish person in Live Oaks than you.”
I tell you the truth, I was stunned. This was a very different Beatrice talking to me that way. But I wasn’t too surprised not to defend myself about Percy. “Well, Beatrice, I might have been a little sharp with Percy, but—”
“A little sharp? You sounded like the Esmeralda I knew way back then, before you changed—”
“Well, he deserves—”
“Esmeralda, Percy needs Jesus.”
“I know, Beatrice, but . . .” I wanted to say she was not the one who should undertake saving his soul, but instead I changed the subject. “What about Carl? You said he hasn’t been around the last couple days.”
“Carl has put his business up for sale, so he’s been busy with buyers.”
“Why is he selling?”
“He wants to retire. With the money he gets from the business, he’s going to buy himself an RV and travel.”
“How do you feel about him?”
“Esmeralda, he’s a darling man. He really is. He has helped me so much. I can’t begin to tell you. Those ‘fear nots’ from the Bible have given me such peace about things. . . . I don’t hardly get nervous at all now. Carl’s not educated or anything, but he knows a lot. When I said something about how my prayers for a cancer cure were not answered, can you guess what he said?”
Well, I couldn’t guess at that, not when I could hardly believe my ears. Cancer was a word I never thought I would hear come out her mouth.
“Carl said there are many different kinds of cancer, so we can’t look for just one big cure to come along and be the end of it. He brought me some newspaper clippings giving information on how research is paying off. Some cancers are being cured. One day I told him about my surgeries, that it’s been ten years now. He said that means I’m a survivor.”
Beatrice got up and went in the kitchen to see about something. When she came back, she stood at the window with her arms folded, looking back at me. For the first time in my life, Beatrice was in control and I was not. Ordinarily she wouldn’t have dared talk to me the way she had. Before, whenever she said anything the slightest bit negative, she would fall all over herself apologizing. But now she stood there, having said all these things about me, and there wasn’t the slightest hint that she was sorry. More than that, for once, I didn’t have a comeback.
She walked back to the sofa and curled up again. “There’s one thing about Carl that drives me up the wall, though. It’s that pigtail.”
“I thought you said he uses it for a comb over.”
“He does, but that’s only on Sundays. I have to put up with it the rest of the week.”
“Why don’t he get himself a rug?”
“I don’t know.”
I couldn’t help but stare at Beatrice. She looked and sounded like a mature woman. If Carl had done all this to make her grow up, he was too important to let go of. “Beatrice, if Carl asked you, would you marry him?”
She didn’t hesitate. “He has asked me. Right now everything is on hold. The Lord has brought Percy back into my life, and it’s my duty to do whatever I can do for him.”
I did not like the sound of that one bit, but there was no use saying anything.
Percy did come down for supper, but so did the couple upstairs. That made it easier for me to be civil to him.
After we finished eating, Jim and Sadie went back upstairs, and Beatrice insisted on my going
in the living room to keep Percy company while she cleaned up the kitchen. So I had to sit in there and listen to all that hogwash he was dishing out.
“Boy, that was a good meal,” he was saying. “Why, I’ve eaten in the best restaurants all over this country, and I’m here to tell you, Beatrice has got them all beat.”
He propped his feet up on the coffee table and picked his teeth. “I like a shapely woman,” he said, “and Beatrice is one shapely woman. At her age she makes forty-year-olds look like slobs. Nice headlights.”
Well, I plum boiled over. “For your information, Percy, them headlights, as you call them, are not for real.”
His feet came off the coffee table, and he sat up straight. “Whadda you mean?”
“Beatrice has had surgery there—for cancer.”
He looked shocked. “You mean . . . ?”
“Both of ’em.”
Percy Poteat had nothing more to say. When Beatrice finished in the kitchen and came out in the living room, he stood up, stretched, and said he was going up to bed.
The next morning, before daylight, a noisy motor woke me up. Somebody was cranking a motorcycle. It had to be Percy. I jumped out of bed and looked out the window just in time to see him taking off down the road. I knew in my heart he was gone for good, and I thanked God.
Half an hour later, Beatrice got up and went to work as usual. I don’t think she knew Percy was gone, and I didn’t tell her. She would find out soon enough. I just hoped and prayed she wouldn’t find out that I’d had anything to do with it.
After I read my Bible and prayed, I messed around in the apartment, doing a little housework, rinsing out my panty hose, and going through a couple of magazines. That conversation with Beatrice had left me unsettled. I turned on the TV, but even that did not take my mind off of what was going on.
Before Beatrice came home from work, Carl came to the apartment. I let him in and invited him to wait for her.
He was not a bad-looking man. At least he had an honest face. However, the pigtail poking out beneath his baseball cap was not something any woman would like. He took off his cap, and I could see he was plenty bald on top. As we sat in the living room talking, I wondered why being bald was such a problem for a man like Carl.
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