I half expected him to kiss the caps and caress the wires. But he just shook his head and sucked his teeth loudly.
“Yep, I can see right off you needs a new radiator hose. But I need to get up under her to make sure you ain’t cracked the radiator proper. Ya see it’s made out of rubber. It ain’t all that uncommon for dem to crack or leak, ’specially if you been driving steady for a while. Where you coming from?”
“New York.”
“Yep, that’ll do it. So what happened is the engine didn’t get the coolant it needed and overheated. Your engine ’bout to burn itself out. Good thing you came in when you did. It’s probably been happening since you left the North. And any longer and it would have damaged the engine, and den you got yourself some real big mess.”
“Can you fix it?” Veronica asked.
“’Spect I could. Don’t think I have that hose yere, but I can fetch one from the big shop. I gotta get an order from dere later today. So I’ll just add the hose to the order.”
“Where is y’all headed?” the younger mechanic asked.
“To Atlanta,” Daniel said. “To college.”
“Well now, good for you. It does my heart good to see our young men and women getting dey education and making a way for theyselves. Makes us rightly proud.”
“My girlfriend—well, I guess she’s my fiancée now—she goes to Spelman,” Winston chimed in. “Y’all might know her. Her name’s Mazie.”
“Mazie Campbell?” Veronica asked, stunned.
“Yeah, dat’s her. I figured y’all did. Everyone does.”
“She’s our soror,” Daphne added.
“She’s your what?” Winston asked.
“She’s one of our sorority sisters,” I clarified.
“So I bet y’all look up to her, am I right? Yeah, she’s something else, my Mazie. She’s a beauty queen and just as pretty as a movie star.”
“Well now, looks like I got a handle on dis. You all just leave it to me. I’ll git you back on to road in no time.” Mr. Sam closed the hood, interrupting our conversation.
“Thank you,” Veronica said. “About the cost, how much—”
“We’ll worry about that later,” Mr. Sam said.
“How long do you think it’ll take?” Daniel asked him.
He took a deep breath and blew it out, shaking his head. He took his cap off and then scratched his head. “First off, I gotta really look under dat hood and make sure dat’s all that’s wrong wid her. If’n it’s just the hose, I’ll get you back on the road in a few hours, give or take. Otherwise, we’ll just have to see. I’ll let you know what I find.”
Veronica gave him the car key.
“If you all are hungry, there’s a nice little place round the corner and down the end of the block.” He pointed. “Come with me, young man. I’ll get you that aspirin.”
“I’ll meet you there,” Daniel said and followed Mr. Sam into the garage.
We headed in the direction Mr. Sam had pointed.
“Well, I hope the food is decent in here. I’m starved.”
We walked into Hattie’s Diner. The small place was bustling. It was basic and homey with the usual ceiling fans and a speckled linoleum floor. It was clean and airy with windows at each table along the perimeter. There was a long counter with stools across the front. People were sitting and eating, both blacks and whites.
Just then two tall men with huge Afros came in and stood behind us. They were talking and laughing as one of them slipped coins into a cigarette machine. A woman behind the counter looked over and yelled, “Jeffrey, Earl, you can go on have a seat at the counter.” Then she looked at us. “You can have a seat anywheres.”
We found a table in the back and sat down.
A waitress, older, with big chunky rubber-soled shoes, came over with three glasses of water and silverware. She had black cat-eye glasses hanging from a chain around her neck, and a black hair net covered her big bouffant. Her uniform was tan with a name tag that read LOUISE.
“Good Lawd, we are so busy this morning, I ain’t had a moment to myself,” she complained. “You girls are in for a treat. We have the creamiest grits in the county and the best steak and eggs. It’s the morning special. Coffee?” she asked.
“Yes, please, and there’s four of us,” I said.
“Veronica, I have money,” I said. She looked at me questioningly. “For the car, I mean. I’ll call my uncle and have him wire enough to have the car fixed.”
Before Veronica could reply, the waitress returned with four cups of coffee. “You know what you want?” she asked. We ordered the morning special, steak, eggs, pancakes, and sausages with a side of famous grits. We ordered the same for Daniel.
“I can help too,” Daphne added, turning to Veronica.
“No, that’s okay, but thanks. My father is going to pay for it,” Veronica said, smiling, “as soon as I tell him I took the car.”
“He doesn’t know you have it?” I asked, stunned.
“Not exactly,” she said.
“Veronica Cook, are you insane?” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “This means the car is technically stolen.”
“It’s not stolen. It’s my car. They just don’t know I have it yet,” she said. “It’s my graduation gift and I’ve been driving it all summer. They didn’t want me driving it out of the city alone. But I have you guys, so I’m not alone.”
“What about your aunt and uncle—they know?”
“That’s right. Surely by now they must have told your parents you have the car,” Daphne chimed in.
“So what if they have? We’re in Georgia. My parents are not going to come and get it, are they? Besides, I have leverage.”
“Leverage,” I repeat. “What kind of leverage?”
“The best in the world. My father needs me right now.”
I shook my head. This was 100 percent pure Veronica—scheming. With the innocent smile of an angel, she could promise you the world was flat, the sky was green, and the earth circled the moon. And you’d believe every word she said.
“What do you mean he needs you?” I asked her finally.
She chuckled. “My father is a financial manipulator. He’s a master puppeteer who uses aggressive dominance and intimating tactics to get what he wants. He’s very good at it, and as his daughter, I’ve learned a thing or two from him.”
“Like what?”
“Like the reason they set up the engagement so quickly is so my father can borrow money for his business from my fiancé’s father, who just so happens to own a bank and is one of the richest black men in the country.”
“So what does your fiancé’s father get out of it?”
“Pedigree.”
“What?”
“He’s going along with it because he grew up poor and my family’s linage is long and distinguished. Think about the connections he’ll make in building the business being associated with my family.”
I shook my head and sipped my coffee. Given everything that was going on in the world, her issues did not move me.
Daniel walked in and sat down just as the waitress came with our meals. Daphne said grace and we started eating.
“So, Daniel, what do you think about marriage?” Veronica asked, grinning.
Daniel looked directly at me even though I hadn’t asked the question. “If I’m blessed to find that one special woman who fulfills all my needs and the thought of her not being in my life is physically painful, then, yes, I’d marry her in a heartbeat.”
In all sincerity, his eyes never wavered from mine. Then he smiled at me and my insides turned to mush. I eased my coffee cup to my lips and took another sip.
After a long, leisurely breakfast we headed back to the garage. The earlier, brilliant sunshine had given way to clouds. We approached Mr. Sam, who had the hood up working on another car and was studying a part that looked like the inside of a television set. “I ordered your part. But I ’spect it’ll get here mayhaps tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow morning,”
I repeated.
“So we’re stuck here for the night.”
“Best I can do. Just don’t have dat part,” Mr. Sam said. “I could rig you up something to get you to Atlanta and you could get her all fixed up there.”
“Good idea,” Daniel said. “Use a larger hose, cut it down, and clamp it.”
“No. It’s my car and I want the right part.”
“We need to find someplace to sleep tonight.”
“Phone book’s in the office,” Mr. Sam said.
“Thank you for your help, sir,” Daniel responded.
15
I COULDN’T BELIEVE MY EYES WHEN I SAW MAZIE CAMPBELL sitting in the small office at the garage, powdering her nose as she looked at herself in a compact mirror. Once a local beauty queen, Mazie was pretty with a clear honey-toned complexion and a bright, dazzling smile. She had large brown doe-like eyes with long, curly eyelashes and perfectly pursed lips, making it look like she was constantly pouting. She wasn’t slim and she wasn’t heavy. She was somewhere in the middle, shapely with narrow hips and long legs.
Mazie had never been my cup of tea. She adored Veronica and Daphne and had tried to put a wedge between us on more than one occasion. I once overheard her question Veronica and Daphne as to why they allowed me to hang around with them. They told her that I didn’t hang around with them, but rather, they hung around with me. After that, she did just about everything to become part of our little group—but she never quite fitted in.
“Ugh, Mazie,” I groaned as we headed to the office.
“Oh, hush, Zelda. Mazie’s fun,” Veronica said.
“She’s a flirt who lives for attention,” I said. “She’s spoiled, and she’s naïve if she thinks that kind of attention from men is okay. It’s not. Look at the trouble she caused for Professor Jacobs and his family. She deliberately and openly flirted with the man, and nearly ruined his reputation and career, not to mention his family.”
“She didn’t mean anything by it. It was just harmless flirting. Nothing bad happened. Not really,” Veronica said.
“I heard Professor Jacobs got a better job and his wife is expecting another baby,” Daphne said.
“That’s right,” Veronica concurred. “See? All’s well.”
“I think she’s just insecure. She wants people to like her, that’s all,” Daphne said.
A year behind us at Spelman, Mazie spent most of her time tumbling from one calamity to another, all brought on by her flirty, thoughtless behavior. But someone was always there to get her out of her predicaments. Veronica adored her, and at school they would get into all kinds of trouble.
Mazie was dressed in a floral crop top and in what must have been the shortest shorts on record. She hurried over as soon as Veronica and Daphne caught her attention. As usual, she made a spectacle of herself adjusting her crop top over her large breasts.
“I can’t believe y’all are here,” she squealed. “I’m so happy to see you. When did y’all git here? Is anyone else here with you? Your timing couldn’t be any more perfect. Today is my birthday, and y’all got to come to my party, later tonight at the barn! It’s gonna be a blast.”
No one had a chance to say anything, let alone answer the questions she kept shooting out.
Abruptly, she grabbed and hugged Daphne like a hungry bear. “It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you so much.” She then did the same with Veronica.
A second later she hugged me—and my skin began to crawl. I could not get out of her embrace quickly enough. Daniel, standing behind me, placed his hand on the small of my back. Mazie noticed the gesture. She smiled like he was a plate of biscuits and gravy. “Well now, who is dis?” she asked in an exaggerated Southern drawl.
“Daniel Johnson,” he said firmly.
“Daniel’s a Morehouse man escorting us to Atlanta,” Daphne said.
Mazie introduced herself breathlessly, grinning. “What happened to your face? Are you a bad boy rebel like James Dean?”
I noticed Winston coming toward us, but he was stalled by one of the customers.
“This is so exciting. I can’t believe y’all are really here,” she declared, gliding her arm around Daniel. He casually took a step away.
“We stopped because the car started smoking,” Daphne said.
Mazie turned around and saw Winston. He waved. She waved back. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about your car. Mr. Sam and my fiancé, Winston, will have it as good as new in no time.
“Is that it? I love it. Red is my favorite color. I want Winston to buy me a red car too. He’s going to be a big star, you know. And he promised to buy me a mink coat, a Cadillac, and tons of jewelry. You see, he’s much more than just a grease monkey. He’s in a singing group too. They perform all around the county. They’re real popular. And there’s a record producer working with dem to make an album. Can you believe it?”
“Wow, that’s exciting,” Daphne gushed.
“It is. He’s going to be a big star, just like Sam Cooke. I just know it. You wait and see. By next year this time we’ll be traveling all over the world and attending all kinds of concerts and movie premieres and such.” She turned and waved again. He waved back. “So y’all coming to my birthday party tonight, right?”
“Of course we are,” Veronica said, “but first we have to find a place to stay.”
“My mamma owns a guesthouse just outside of town. Since the party is going to be late, y’all can stay with us. It’ll be absolutely, positively perfect,” she rejoiced. “Don’t worry about the bags. I’ll have Winston put them in his car. He’ll drive us to my mamma’s place. Winston!” Mazie called out. He came over immediately, wiping his hands on a rag.
We piled into Winston’s old tan-and-black four-door Studebaker Lark station wagon.
Winston took the scenic route, giving us a tour of the town, with Mazie as our nonstop-talking host.
I was surprised the town was as big as it was. The main street was lined with all kinds of shops, stores, and restaurants. There was a laundromat and liquor store right in between a barbershop and beauty shop. A funeral home was on the corner, another restaurant on the opposite corner, and a bakery and a butcher shop.
We passed a huge lumber company nearby along with a large factory making train and airplane parts. Mazie explained that most of the locals worked in the two plants. The others had worked at a textile factory until it had closed a couple of years earlier.
Winston spent way too much time keeping his eyes on Mazie and not enough on the road. He swerved several times as we reached the more upscale residential section of town. The houses, perfectly symmetrical and overly extravagant, reminded me of the photos I’d seen of slave plantations. One in particular, with looming pillars, large windows, and a full balcony along the front and sides, caught my attention. It had a painted white-brick front, black shutters, a sloping front path, and a Confederate flag.
The whole area consisted mainly of Southern antebellum architecture—big, grand, and glorious. Even the smaller homes appeared stately. I saw a woman in a floral dress and big straw hat standing on the front porch of one of the homes, her eyes tracking us as we drove by.
“So how did you two meet?” Daphne asked Mazie.
Mazie cooed adoringly and scooted closer to Winston. He threw his arm around her shoulders. “It was love at first sight. I was at the barn one Tuesday night with a friend, and Winston and his group was performing. He was amazing.”
“I couldn’t take my eyes off her the whole time. She was so beautiful,” he said, winking at her. “Still is.”
“Now, don’t y’all get jealous back there,” Mazie teased. “Dis one’s all mine.”
“When are you two getting married?” I asked.
“Soon,” he replied, only half smiling this time.
“He won’t set a date,” Mazie said, frowning. “But don’t worry. Soon as his wife agrees to a divorce y’all be my bridesmaids.”
Winston didn’t say anything. Mazie turned and winked at Dani
el, but he acted like he didn’t see her.
We turned the corner at a furniture store. Farther down the street there was a car lot, a sheriff’s office, and the town hall, with a small white steepled church at the end of the block.
After we crossed over train tracks, everything drastically changed. It was like we had driven into another world. The streets, if you could call them that, were mainly dusty dirt roads. The houses were closer to the road, no expansive lawns out front. There were a lot more people sitting around, under the shade of trees and on crates along the roadside, their expressions listless. Grass was either near dead or overgrown, cars were up on blocks, and the homes looked unkempt and disregarded. The neighborhood appeared to outdo the poorest neighborhoods in DC and Harlem.
“It’s called Lila Mae Butler’s Guesthouse,” Mazie said, breaking the silence in the car.
“Who’s Lila Mae Butler?” Daphne asked.
“Lila Mae was my grandma. She was a bit crazy and senile ’fore she died. My mamma, she’s a widow, she took over running the guesthouse when grandma got real bad off. People come dere all the time and stay. Mr. Jackson—y’all meet him later—never left. He’s old and has lived dere almost since the beginning.”
“Your mamma ain’t no widow. Your daddy left to get a pack of cigarettes when you was five years old. He ain’t never come back,” Winston said, then chuckled.
Mazie stopped and looked at Winston. “My daddy died and my mamma’s a widow,” she stated insistently. Then she turned back to us. “The house has been in my family for ages. My grandma told me that when she was twenty, her lover”—she paused and whispered—“he was white. He bought the land and built it for her. It was a big-deal scandal back then. Anyway, he died and she got to keep the house.”
“Do the people here have jobs?” I asked, looking around.
She sighed after I interrupted. “Most got laid off when the textile factory closed down a few years back.”
“Did they only employ blacks?” Daniel asked.
She giggled. “Course not.”
“So why didn’t they get jobs in the lumberyard or the factory as I assume others did?”
“Dere aren’t enough jobs to go round to everybody.”
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