Sweet Potato Jones

by Jen Lowry

  The strong voice of the singer echoed around me. “Hallelujah” was playing as the waves lapped against the beams of the pier. Ray began whispering those beautiful lyrics, his arms circling me tighter, and I knew that all was right with the world.

  I turned into him and buried my face against his neck, my lips brushing against his skin as I boldly put my arms around his back. I whispered to him, “Maize was right. You are my rain and my sun, like farmers’ lips to God’s ears. I hope you know it.”

  He was holding me so close to him I was dizzy, the world rushing around me and inside of me all at once. His voice was husky and strong. “Why are you so scared to let love in?”

  “Love is hard.”

  He pulled away from me, kissing me softly on the lips. “Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy. It does not boast. It is not rude. It is not self-seeking. It is not easily angered; it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices in truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. That is love, and that is me and you.”

  “Don’t you know I’m just some homeless girl seeking shelter?”

  Love wanted to rise up in my chest, but I was too afraid to let it. Too fearful of what it would do to me if I gave it the control it was seeking.

  “The Lord is sheltering you, Sweet Potato. Don’t fear anymore. Let your past be and know there’s so much love waiting for you. Let me love you.”

  He held my face in his hands and kissed me, lingering against my lips as we swayed to a song we were conducting. I wanted so badly to believe it all to be true, to let him love me as easy and laid-back as summer. But to do that meant I’d have to trust in the future, another day.

  “I say love is too hard, but I guess I do it anyway.” I loved him despite me, anyway. “I do love you, Ray. I don’t know how you love me, that’s all.”

  “You love everyone around you. Look at you with Bell and Maize and even Bean. Look at you with your daddy and my parents, the customers at the Soul Food. Everybody, Sweet Potato. You say loving is too hard for you. You have more love in you than there are species of birds in the whole world.”

  But he wouldn’t understand what the kind of love I felt cost me. It was a pretty penny.

  I pointed to each of my shoulders. “On one side, that’s Maize. On the other side, Bean.”

  My heart was next. “That’s Bell. Loving them takes away a part of myself or weights me clear down to the bottom of the sea. That is how it has been since I was little, still playing with dolls. Then they became my real-life dolls. I couldn’t put them on a shelf, so I had to shoulder them and heart them. Loving like that is too hard, because it doesn’t leave much room for me to figure out how to proper love other people—like myself.”

  He pointed to my imaginary boys on my shoulders. “See, Maize and Bean. Watch this.”

  He picked them up and slung them into the river, like he was skipping pebbles. He touched my heart. “They’ll still always be a part of you but trust me on this one.” He made like he was pulling Bell slowly from my heart. Then he blew a kiss out over the shimmering waves, like broken glass catching light. “Let God take them, Sweet Potato. They’re God’s creations, after all. You didn’t breathe life into them. They are loved and will always be loved by you. Now, love you. Love me. Love us all with the freedom of letting go and letting in all at the same time.”

  He touched my heart again. “Love them like brothers and sister. Love them forever. We’ll always take care of them, Sweet Potato. It won’t be hard like you think.”

  He laughed as he drew me back closer to him. “Well, maybe with Bean, sometimes, but it will be our life. One that we will accept with happiness. Not fear or frustration or that devastating kind of love that doesn’t know where it will lay its head. Just simply love—the fulfilling kind that makes you whole.”

  “Ray, you say you know me, and you know how they are to me. Are you truly ready to take on that kind of life? To take care of them with me? You’re a man starting out with a whole future ahead of you. We could take you under. The weight of them and me could pull you down.”

  And I couldn’t allow that. I couldn’t watch him drown. Even if that meant losing him. I’d have to let him go, because I loved Ray more than me, too.

  He smiled. “You still don’t know what happened to me that morning you walked through the door at Soul Food. You spoke, you smiled, and I’ve been soaring on wings of eagles ever since. There is nothing that could bring me down from the clouds, as long as I have the love of God and you. And now, because of you, I’m more than a man starting out. I am a man with a clear focus on my purpose for this life. Don’t ever doubt my feelings for you. I love you like this.”

  His lips came to me, and I knew his love for me was true. I could feel it in the way his eyes searched me out. He somehow could love me as I was. He had a persevering kind of love that was too overwhelming to comprehend. It was humbling to be loved like that.

  I whispered against him, “I do love you, Ray. I want you to know that I’m trying really hard.”

  “I don’t want you to try. Just be.”

  “Now you sound like Yoda.”

  He laughed. “See? Now you’re back.”

  We swayed softly to a slow song, his lips against my neck, whispering how much he would love me forever. Some jazz-sounding music with a saxophone was now taking over as the darkness began to surround us. He spun me around on the pier under a starless sky. The moon was even hidden behind the clouds, making it an engulfing dark, but one that I felt completely safe in.

  We didn’t have much to say to each other, and I knew why. Sometimes, when a farmer is working, he’s content to hear the sounds the earth makes under the tiller—the way the seeds seem to crackle against the ground, the way birds fill the air above. That was us. Just listening to the world, we were creating together. The crashing waves, the creak of the worn planks beneath our feet, the wind against my hair.

  An urgency of sadness hit me when the music stopped and we sat down on the pier, face to face. It was almost over, and I knew what that meant. The tips of our shoes were touching, my worn, black Converse against his white Nikes.

  I whispered, afraid to break the silence but needing to tell him somehow how I felt about us. “Look at us. We are like our shoes, you know?”

  He pulled on my laces, untying one of them. “Me? A shoe? What are you talking about, Sweet Potato?”

  My voice came out in a rush. “We both got a covering. A different kinda name, our own unique stamp about us. But if you really took a good look at us, the inner workings, we’re filled up with the Spirit of the Lord, right down to our toes. You’re stronger than me ‘cause you walked tighter to the Lord longer than me, but I will get there. God made us both for the same purpose. He breathed life into the both of us, and we became. And now we are becoming together, and I get that now.”

  “You get what?” He grabbed my hands and entwined his fingers with mine.

  “That you and I can be. I know our night is almost to ending, and I thought if you had me alone you wouldn’t love me when it was over. That you would somehow see how different I was from you and how you could never love someone like me. But I feel the way you are holding my hands and being here in your strong way. The way you are looking at me right now. I know you love me. I don’t need another word from you about it. No more convincing or speeches. I feel you inside of me, like you are a part of my very stitching.”

  As soon as I finished getting it all out, I jumped clear out of my skin. The noise of a thousand rockets took off from the sand right behind me, and the world exploded above us in a light show—a colorful rainbow of stars and flashes of amazing light.

  Ray stood up, pulling me with him, bringing me right against his chest as we looked up at the fireworks signaling the end of the festival and the beginning of my new life. Colors. A living rainbow—a promise never to flood over me again and wipe me out. The world was speaking
colors to me even here.

  We walked slowly down the pier, hand in hand, him wrapping his arm around me while we still held hands. I loved that. I would have a future. And even if I didn’t quite know what that all meant yet, or how it would feel, or what it was supposed to amount to, I knew I had all I needed to survive. No, not to survive—to live. I had it all here. In the godly man right beside me, in a daddy who had come to terms with the life that God now wanted him to lead, in my brothers and sister who would always be my heart, an extension of me. There couldn’t be a rainbow without the rain and the sun. The promise of a new day, a new song to hear Bell sing, a new life to grow into, whatever we were meant to be.

  Loving wasn’t meant to be hard, and nobody ever said that it was going to be easy, either. But it was gonna be worth every single emotion that came with it, I was certain of that.

  Back in the SUV when the fireworks were over, I pulled down the leather flap and looked at myself in the little, light-up mirror. I saw Momma’s eyes looking back at me, telling me it was okay to love and to risk it all. Loving might mean some hurt, but that meant living. That meant breathing.

  I whispered, “I love you.”

  To myself, and maybe even to Momma, too.

  Ray whispered back, lacing my hand in his again. “I love you, too, Sweet Potato.”

  And that was enough for me.

  “Your birthday’s right around the corner, Sweet Potato. I’ve asked you time and again what you would like. Just one little hint,” Ray whispered to me while the kids were lounging on the huge sectional in Preacher Anderson’s living room.

  “We don’t do presents. Didn’t I tell you that already? That’s more to carry around. I can’t have anything to lug around except what will fit in my bag.”

  Even while I said it, I hated the thought of ever having to pick that bag up again, and I prayed that part of my life was over. Just one more time, hopefully. Daddy had been scurrying all around Newport News, looking for us a rental. Our time was about up, because the preacher and his First Lady were expected back in three days’ time. Daddy was engrossed in the classifieds while Bell was practicing vocabulary flashcards with Bean because she was set on helping him with all the words he somehow missed along the way.

  Maize wasn’t home yet. He had been asked to a friend’s house after school, and he didn’t ride the bus home with me. Something about his absence wasn’t wearing on me well. The other pea in my pod was missing, and something about my heart seemed missing, too. Maize wasn’t like a kid to me. He was a part of me. He had always been my best of friends, my one true. I’d been sick with worry because he didn’t have any cellphone to carry around, and Daddy said Maize didn’t need one. He was a boy.

  “What time is it again, Daddy?” I asked impatiently.

  “Stop worrying about Maize, Mother Hen.” Daddy swatted the newspaper at me. “He’s due home soon.”

  “You said home.” I frowned at him, feeling the word swirling around on my tongue. It sounded right delicious, like a warm cherry pie. “Daddy, we’ve got to find us a real place this time, no dilly-dallying around.”

  “I know it. I’ve got two possibilities tomorrow morning. One on Maple and one on Twenty-ninth Street.”

  Ray shifted uncomfortably. Maybe it was because he’d been sitting on the oriental rug since nine without moving a muscle. Or maybe he didn’t like those locations.

  His voice was decisive. “Maybe you should try Maple, but it’s a little farther out.”

  “Well, I won’t try Maple, then. I like the walking distance to Soul Food. It makes my life less complicated.”

  Daddy really meant that would save us money on all the transportation fares. Living at the Holiday over the weekend took all those greenbacks right out of his billfold, I imagined.

  “I could see if Momma would let us both go looking in the morning. I know the area very well, and I could assist you if you would like,” Ray offered.

  “No, thank you.” Daddy put his hands across his chest, resolute. Oh no. Here was the I-don’t-need-help-from-nobody speech. “I know what we’ll need. I can do this, Ray.”

  His tone was condescending, and I knew Ray didn’t mean Daddy was incompetent. By no means. Ray wasn’t that way at all.

  “That’s fine, sir.” Ray clapped loudly and stood up. I wanted to grab him and pull him right back down, but I knew it was getting late. It was a school night, and the youngins should’ve already been in bed, but something about Maize not being here had us all probably a little restless.

  “Can I speak to Bell in private? I’d like to talk to her about Sweet Potato’s birthday.”

  Bell squealed and threw the cards at Bean. “You know me. Let’s get this party started!”

  She grabbed Ray’s hand and dragged him through the swinging door to the little kitchen. Pastor and First Lady Anderson’s house was a perfect size for our family. But it was beyond anything that we’d ever have. Daddy was going to be looking for us a place, but we wouldn’t have the fixings to go with it. It would take us years to get to this. Curtains and rugs and sofas and beds … that would take time. But the place was a start.

  Daddy motioned for me to come nearer so that Bean couldn’t hear. He didn’t need to worry. Bean was already dozing with the cards sprawled over his chest.

  “He know about your birthday?”

  I answered, “Mm … hm …”

  “And he still wants to do something big? I don’t get people, you know.” He shrugged. “But how can we stop the wind from blowing? Once it starts, it can almost take your breath away.”

  I didn’t know if he was trying to tell me he was already beginning to suffocate here. I prayed not. That meant he was feeling the itch to run. Red flag raised.

  “Maize isn’t here yet.” I paced the floor. “We don’t even know this friend of his. You didn’t ask him any questions about it, Daddy? Why do you have be so lax about Maize?”

  “Why would I get up into his business?” Daddy asked accusingly. “I trust Maize. He ain’t never had this opportunity to have a friend. Are you jealous?”

  My eyes grew large as state-fair-winning taters. “Jealous? No! I’m worried, Daddy. He’s out there by himself.”

  “No, you’re wrong. He said he was hanging out with a friend.”

  “But who?” I tried to give him an evil eye, but he cracked me a smile.

  “You stop acting like the momma. You hear me, child? You start being you.” Daddy placed the paper down. “It’s right near eleven. These kids have school. You have school in the morning, so you are off to bed yourself. I’m getting rid of that boy of yours.”

  “Don’t start playing Daddy now,” I whispered. I wanted to add In somebody else’s house, but I refrained.

  He was going to try to send me to bed? Without Maize home? And apparently not bothered that it was near eleven? I wasn’t down with double standards.

  “I’ve gotta wait up for Maize.” I crossed my arms defiantly.

  “Well, play stubborn. I can be stubborner.” He hit my butt with the newspaper.

  “You know that ain’t no word.”

  “I know you ain’t trying to give me no grammar lessons, Sweet Potato Jones.” Daddy picked Bean up with one arm. Bean was already out. “Go get that boy gone before I embarrass him.”

  I took off toward the kitchen. “Bell,” I announced. “It’s bedtime now. Ray, I’m sorry, but …”

  “I know. I know. We have so much planning and so little time. Just a couple of weeks away, you know.”

  “I know.” I rolled my eyes. “You remind me every day.”

  “You gonna love it, Sweet Potato.”

  Bell pranced proudly around the kitchen with a hum that would make a prima donna envious.

  “I’m sure of it,” I said.

  Ray kissed me softly on the cheek. “I’ll see you right after school, okay?”

  This time we were taking the kids to a movie. That was Ray’s idea. We’d neve
r been to an actual cinema house before, and I was sure the experience would blow their minds and distract them from what we wouldn’t have in three more days.

  “What’s happening after school?” Bell asked with eyebrows raised.

  “You’ll see.” I couldn’t help but spin her around myself. “Ray’s full of surprises, that one is.”

  Daddy was back. “Sure, sounds like it. Now get, before you’re grounded.”

  Bell laughed. “You can’t ground Ray, Daddy.”

  “He wasn’t the one I was threatening.”

  Grounded. Ha! Pathetic. Daddy had never disciplined us before, and he used the word grounded in a sentence? What parenting book had he been reading up on lately? Not to mention we still had a missing party that I might grind right into the dirt when he did get home.

  Ray said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Eli.”

  The rooms turned dark. Daddy didn’t believe in keeping lights on without necessity. Oh, Lordy. How would it be when we had a place of our own? How were we to survive it, truly, when I knew there would be many responsibilities all at once? Daddy never had to think too much about being extra when we lived in a shed, but a place would take lots of effort and energy to keep burning, which meant light bills and water payments, and things of that sort. It might get too hot in the kitchen.

  “Where are you, Maize?” I asked right past the ceiling, up to heaven.

  I should’ve been so pleased that Maize had an invite to go play ball with a friend after school. When I’d asked him more about the details—like the name of this person—he’d quickly changed the subject. I walked to the kitchen about five hundred times, looking at the blaring, blue light of the digital clock that told me something wasn’t right. Daddy was snoring softly on the couch, his feet fully covered in them borrowed blankets. Not a care in the world.