The Secret Life of Lula Darling

by Alex Dean

  The restaurateur went behind the bar, grabbed the first remote she could get her hands on and turned up the volume.

  Marlene watched as Ella Mae pushed back from the table, stood up, and walked just under the TV to get a closer look.

  Marlene read the words across the bottom of the screen: HYDE PARK RESIDENT, LULA DARLING. Then she walked over to Ella Mae, who was still fixated on the screen.

  “Ella Mae, does your daughter, Lula, know where you are?”

  Ella Mae shook her head. “No, ma’am.” She turned her head back toward the moving picture and pointed. “I pray for this. I pray that I find Lula. And I foun’ her.” She focused her gaze back on Marlene. “I bet…she pray to find me, too.”

  Marlene nodded and smiled. “It says that she’s a resident of Hyde Park. That’s on the Southside. Home to our current president.”

  She glanced back at Ella Mae. “You been separated from her long?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Marlene moved closer and put her arm around Ella Mae. “Well, guess what? I’m going to try to help you two get reunited. It might take some time. And I certainly can’t guarantee it. But I believe God put you in my path for a reason. Now, the first thing we’re gonna do is to get you a place to stay until we can get all this sorted out.”

  Marlene went into the back to call her husband. She explained the situation and asked him to cover managing the restaurant in the meantime.

  Moments later, she returned to the dining area, sporting a huge grin. She sat at the table across from Ella Mae once again, took in Ella Mae’s weather-beaten face, dark circles under the eyes, those eyes that looked distant and full of sorrow.

  “I’m fixing to get you all cleaned up, get some decent clothes on your back, and find you three squares and a roof over your head. It’s the least I can do for you, Ella Mae,” she said and smiled.

  “You can thank me later.”

  Chapter 24

  “How do I look?”

  Ariel hurried over as I stood in front of the tall full-length mirror attached to the back of her bedroom door.

  I turned sideways, then back to the front again, glancing at my body from head to toe. Cap and tassel. Gown. Shoes.

  “You look fantastic, Lula. No. Better yet, you look Mahvalous,” Ariel said with a laugh.

  “Thank you.”

  Ariel walked over to the dresser, her black hair freshly permed, then leaned forward and applied her lipstick in the mirror.

  “Are you nervous?” she asked.

  “Quite,” I said. “It’s not every day you speak in front of thousands of people.”

  Ariel closed her makeup kit and sat on the bed. I took off my heels and sat next to her, rubbing my ankles. “These shoes are already killing me. I’m not used to wearing them,” I said.

  “Put them in a bag and wear sneakers until we get there,” said Ariel.

  “Good idea.”

  I stood up and went to the closet to grab the only pair of sneakers I had. A pair of pink-and-gray Nike Air Max. I then glanced at my watch. The closer it got to the time for us to go to the graduation, the more of a nervous wreck I became.

  Ariel could tell I was nervous, too. That I was as jittery as a June bug lying on its back would have definitely been a more accurate way to put it.

  I started rummaging through drawers, tossing our clothes in disarray.

  “Lula, what are you looking for?”

  “My notes. I had notes for my speech. Where are they?”

  Ariel went to her closet, reached beneath a row of summer dresses and pulled out a leather backpack.

  “They’re in here. You wanted me to keep them safe, someplace where you could find them.”

  I shook my head and blew out a nervous breath as I grabbed the backpack from Ariel.

  “After you submitted your speech to the school board, what did they have to say? Did they approve it?” she asked.

  “Yes, they approved it. But I decided I was going to improvise. Speak from the heart. And what I have to say? Well, I’m not exactly sure they’re ready for it.”

  Ariel smiled at me with admiration.

  She drew closer and hugged me, then looked at me, holding my shoulders.

  “You’ve accomplished so much in your time here, Lula. We’re all so very proud of you. I know my dad may not always show it. But trust me, he’s your number one fan. In fact, I think he loves you more than baseball.”

  My eyes welled, and I fanned them to keep from sobbing. Ariel smiled, fanning back her own tears.

  “And after what you’ve endured, to somehow adapt to this crazy world of ours, becoming valedictorian of one of the premier high schools in the city, the keynote speaker at the city’s first mass graduation exercise since 1939. All I can say is . . . that’s pretty freakin’ awesome!”

  Chapter 25

  Marlene Baker had been driving for more than an hour through the snarling traffic and road construction in the Western suburbs, stopping by Walmart, Target, and several other stores.

  Once she’d exited the Eisenhower Expressway, her black Cadillac CTS rolled slowly along Chicago Avenue, pulling in front of Good Deeds Community Outreach Center at 8:55 a.m.

  Marlene had been feeling good about this whole day. About helping Ella Mae—a homeless woman with nowhere to turn—finally start to get on her feet.

  She hung a right and parked in an all-day lot around the corner. It was the same one she parked in every day before opening her restaurant.

  After shutting off the engine, she looked at herself in the rearview mirror, then turned around and grabbed several shopping bags from the backseat and headed toward the shelter.

  She walked inside and came upon a woman sitting at a desk, finishing a conversation on the phone. It was one of those older-style phones, plain and simple, with very few features, Marlene noted.

  The woman looked up after a brief go of trying to make her desk look more presentable. “Can I help you?”

  “Here to pick up Ella Mae Darling.”

  The woman slid an open notebook closer to the edge of the desk and pointed. “I’ll need your signature in this box and the time of pickup here.”

  Marlene leaned over to sign the book.

  The woman behind the desk then shook her head. “That Ella Mae is quite a character. Keeps everyone here laughing, including me.”

  “Is that right?” Marlene said and smiled.

  The woman rose from her chair. “Oh, yeah. You should hear some of the stories she has to tell . . . about her living on a plantation, picking cotton.”

  Then she leaned over to whisper something in Marlene’s ear.

  “They can be quite delusional, you know,” she said, aiming a forefinger at her temple and rotating it in the universal hand sign for cuckoo. “It never ceases to amaze me what comes through these doors. Another thing I’ve noticed is that she’s quite talkative among the other residents, but seems to hold her tongue around those in a position of authority, especially men. Let me get her for you.”

  Marlene waited patiently, holding on to the shopping bags as the woman left the room. She looked at the walls around the office, at the photographs of long-time residents who lived here, including staff.

  Minutes later, the woman and Ella Mae came walking from around the corner.

  “May I have a moment with her?” Marlene asked.

  “Not a problem,” the woman replied, then said, “Ella Mae, remember, we lock the doors at nine. Make sure you’re here earlier than that, though. Those cots back there fill up really fast.”

  The woman left the room, and Ella Mae’s stare took in Marlene and the bags she was holding.

  “I bought you something nice to wear, Ella Mae, including a wig.”

  Marlene set the bags on the desk and pulled out a flowing floral-patterned dress, holding it up. “Now I wasn’t exactly sure, but this looks to be about your size. Go ahead, try it on in the back.”

  Ella Mae smiled. She was delighted that this angel of a wom
an had found it in her heart to provide these clothes for her. “Okay. I be back,” she muttered.

  Several minutes later, Ella Mae returned wearing the dress.

  “That looks so much better. You like it?” asked Marlene.

  Ella Mae nodded. “I do. I’s feel important now. Like I belong.”

  Marlene then grabbed the wig from one of the other shopping bags and walked over to Ella Mae, setting the piece over her braided hair. Then she slipped a pair of flat shoes onto Ella Mae’s feet.

  “You are important. And you do belong. Don’t ever let anyone tell you any different,” Marlene said earnestly.

  Ella Mae nodded again. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Deep down, Ella Mae could not believe what was happening here. How could someone, a complete stranger, be so kind to her? And how could this colored woman who’d been trying to help her afford to look so nice, and own a restaurant?

  But more than anything, how could Negroes, everywhere she had looked, appear to be so cockamamie free? Some things you didn’t care to know.

  Marlene grabbed Ella Mae’s hand and the empty shopping bags as they headed out the shelter’s entrance.

  Walking past a row of businesses, Ella Mae let out a raucous cough as she inhaled the putrid exhaust of CTA buses going by.

  Marlene switched the shopping bags to her left hand and gently patted Ella Mae’s back to provide some comfort.

  “It’s only a short walk around the corner to my car. You have anything to eat today?” said Marlene.

  Ella Mae nodded. “Some ’taters, corn, a li’l chicken.”

  Marlene reached over and held Ella Mae’s hand, and they both continued toward the parking lot. Ella Mae walked more slowly, more gently, still getting accustomed to walking on hard concrete.

  “Well, it’s a good thing you put something on your stomach. We got a long and interesting day ahead of us. What’s left of it, anyway.”

  The two of them entered the parking lot, walking over a sea of gravel. They headed a short distance to Marlene’s black Cadillac, which glistened in the afternoon sun like finely polished ebony.

  Suddenly Ella Mae stopped dead in her tracks, peering up at the sky at the plane flying overhead. Then she lowered her gaze and stared at the car. She became startled when Marlene pressed her remote entry key fob to deactivate the alarm system.

  Marlene opened the passenger-side door. “This here is my pride and joy. Always wanted a Cadillac ever since I could remember, my husband, too. Go ahead, get in.”

  Ella Mae lowered herself into the car’s luxurious interior while Marlene went to get in on the other side.

  Sitting with her legs splayed apart, Ella Mae reached forward, running her hand over the ride’s beige dashboard.

  Marlene buckled Ella Mae underneath her seat belt and then did the same for herself. Then she inserted the key into the ignition and fired up the car.

  Ella Mae was amazed at this sequence of events. The bright lights on the dash. The quiet hum of the engine.

  As Marlene began to shift the car into drive, Ella Mae stared fearfully out the window. She was more afraid now than she’d been when she had climbed into Hartley Mansfield’s Transporter. She wondered if she was about to die in this strange contraption, and quick as spit, she closed her eyes and prayed.

  Before they pulled out of the lot, Marlene suddenly turned toward her and said, “Be not troubled, Ella Mae. Today’s gonna be a good day . . . you wait and see.”

  Chapter 26

  Heavy traffic had clogged North Lake Shore Drive into a complete standstill. From the backseat of her parents’ car, Ariel and I stayed lost on our phones, answering texts, taking preceremony selfies and uploading pictures on social media.

  Anything to keep my mind off what’s only one of the biggest days of my life, I thought. Looking out the window, I could see, from my viewpoint, there were a gazillion cars, SUVs, limos and even a few party buses with kids hanging dangerously out the windows.

  I could also see the black-and-glass building that was McCormick Place on our right.

  Suddenly out of nowhere came a blue-and-white helicopter that flew across lanes from Michigan Avenue to Columbus Drive, then directly over us. Ariel’s parents could barely hear themselves talk.

  I rolled down the side window and looked up as the chopper maneuvered under a heavy blanket of clouds. Painted on its bottom was SKY5 News.

  Then reality quickly set in.

  The media was going to be here! I swallowed hard, thinking about the crowd that would hear me speak today. And with everyone having a cell phone, I could just imagine how many recorded videos of me speaking were about to go viral.

  Then, Ariel tapped me on my knee, jarring my thoughts in a new direction.

  “Look,” she said, showing me her iPhone.

  “What is it?” I said.

  Ariel whispered. “Tommy said that his brother Alan is off of house arrest. So Tommy’s bringing him to the graduation.”

  I smiled and gave Ariel the thumbs-up. Her parents had never been crazy about her boyfriend, Tommy, and would have cared even less had they known about his brother’s penchant for always being on the wrong side of the law.

  But something, maybe it was my gut feeling, told me that Ariel’s parents knew more about her personal life than she thought they did.

  “There’s Soldier Field!” Ariel exclaimed as she briefly looked up from tapping on her phone. I peered out the car and glimpsed as much of this historic structure as my eyes could see, the flags in front raised to their maximum height, flying majestically in the wind.

  Ariel’s dad slowed down the car and lowered his window to talk to a Chicago police officer, directing traffic. Security looked extremely tight.

  Ariel turned to look at me. “Are you okay, Lula? You’re ready?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine,” I said. But just like that, a flood of emotions coursed through me like a rocket just launched into orbit.

  I reached down to slip on some pumps I’d had in a bag. Then I grabbed a smartphone Ariel’s parents had thoughtfully given me as a graduation gift.

  Ariel’s dad showed a parking attendant his parking pass and we headed toward an indoor garage. Then he pulled up in front of an elevator and said, smiling, “Patty, you and the girls can get a head start. I don’t want you guys being late on account of me.”

  The three of us got out of the car, me in my white gown and heels, Ariel in one of her outfits from Akira. As I closed the door of the Jetta, her dad rolled down the passenger-side window and leaned over. “And Lula, one other thing. This is a momentous occasion, one that you’ll remember for the rest of your life. So cherish the moment.”

  I smiled and gave him the thumbs-up. Then the three of us got into the elevator to go to one of the upper levels. We were to meet with Mrs. Hazel Stoudemire, my homeroom teacher and also one of the event chaperones.

  As soon as we got off the elevator and onto the mezzanine level, there was a sea of royal blue mixed in with families, friends, a group of media personnel huddled to the right, people at various concession stands.

  Through the energetic crowd and commotion, I spotted Mrs. Stoudemire. Not only was she my favorite instructor, but she was one of Chicago Prep’s finest teachers, often winning numerous awards and accolades herself.

  I was shocked to see how glammed up she looked today, fit and trim, makeup, the whole nine. She had obviously gone all out for the occasion.

  “Hi, girls,” she said excitedly. Both Ariel and I gave her a big hug.

  “This is my mom,” said Ariel, and the two ladies shook hands.

  “Lula, you ready for your big day?” Mrs. Stoudemire asked.

  “Just trying not to think about it. But, yes, I’m ready.”

  I blew out a nervous breath as I looked out at the stage on the north end of the field. The closer it got to my speech, the more my heart was going to go into overdrive, I knew.

  Ariel and I exchanged an anxious glance. “Well, I’m definitely looking forwar
d to dinner afterward. Red Lobster,” she said.

  “Good choice. I love their biscuits. Even though I have to drag my husband whenever we go. He’s allergic to fish,” Mrs. Stoudemire said, laughing.

  We all had to laugh at that ourselves. And I was just as surprised to see my favorite teacher in such a jovial mood. She was usually more serious in her demeanor; it was good to see her finally at ease and bring it down a notch.

  “And, Lula, I know how much you absolutely dread public speaking. So, tell me, have you shaken off the jitters? Ready to make that presentation?”

  I nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Even though, of course, rumor has it that some people don’t want—”

  Mrs. Stoudemire smiled, quickly put a hand on my shoulder and guided me off to the side. “I know exactly where you’re going with this, Lula. Some people don’t want to see you up there on that platform making that speech. Well, I say the heck with them! You’ve earned the right to be on that stage. Not many can say they’ve accomplished what you’ve managed to do. We’ve spent many hours together, and I have the utmost confidence in you that you’re ready! Now, when it’s your turn to walk out on that stage, be confident. You hold your head up and make us all proud!”

  “Thank you,” I said, giving Mrs. Stoudemire another hug, and we walked over to join Ariel and her mom.

  Mrs. Stoudemire then opened an envelope and pulled out several commencement programs. “In about thirty minutes, it’s showtime. Your group of reserved seats are in Section 138,” she said.

  Ariel had just finished texting her father to give him our whereabouts, and the three of us started down to our seats. As we made our way down the steps, perpetual bully-in-chief, Donna Braxton, shot a malevolent stare my way while blowing pink bubbles with a wad of chewing gum.

  Rumor had it that her problem with me stemmed from her having a crush on Marcus. I couldn’t really blame her. Marcus was the one guy all the girls at Chicago Prep wanted, with the exception of Ariel, of course.