Cranberry Winter

by Ruth P. Watson

  “Why are you all wrapped up?” he asked, attempting to lift my gown over my head.

  “Momma is here,” I whispered.

  “I know. The door is closed; she can’t hear us.”

  Simon ran his hand up my thigh. The warmth of his touch caused me to tremble. Just as he ran his fingers between my legs, I closed them tight.

  “I can’t, Simon; not tonight,” I said, knocking his hand away.

  “Don’t let all that nonsense come between us,” he begged.

  “I won’t if you don’t,” I shot back.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Simon pulled me close. I wanted to give in, but instead, I fought my own natural desires, turned my back to him and dozed off to sleep. It was the principle of it all. How could he lie about so many things in one breath? Everybody had seen him. I knew they all couldn’t be lying. Even though it was hard for me to resist him, I had to be strong for one night. I closed my eyes, knowing I wanted him real bad.

  Momma woke up early the next morning. She wrapped her apron around her waist and began preparing eggs, buttermilk biscuits and bacon. The aroma was tantalizing and I patiently waited to enjoy her cooking. Simon was quiet as if something was on his mind. Momma was humming her gospel songs as usual when she cooked, and singing notes out of tune. The only person missing was Robert who was still at the Halls—the result of Momma taking a stand against Pearl, Bessie, and the club and refusing to take care of Robert while I was out.

  After everyone was served, Momma sat down to eat. “How was the show last night?”

  “It was nice.”

  “I can’t believe you went to the club alone,” Simon commented.

  “I didn’t.”

  “Who did you go with?”

  “Hester.” Last night, he had never bothered to ask.

  “How was the music? Did Bessie perform?” Momma asked.

  “Bessie sang one song with Ms. Pearl. They sounded so good together.”

  Momma shook her head. “Bessie can sing, but folks say she live worse than Pearl. The two of them together, Lawd have mercy! Neither one of ’em go to church.”

  Her comments disturbed me so much I was forced to bite my tongue.

  “I wish I had made it back in time to come to the show,” Simon said, with a straight face; yet his eyes said something different. I couldn’t believe my ears.

  The food was tasty as expected, yet both of the comments had my nerves a bit rattled. I wanted to say something to both Momma and Simon. Momma’s negative comments seemed to surface whenever anybody mentioned Ms. Pearl. And now she was talking about Miss Bessie Smith too. I didn’t agree with their lifestyles, but both of them could sing.

  I told Momma and Simon about the crowd the night before. Simon listened as if he had not been there, even though he had been seen in the crowd.

  “I wanted to be there,” Simon kept mumbling.

  We were enjoying the meal, and passionately discussing Ms. Pearl and Bessie when there was a hard knock on the door.

  “Now who can that be this early in the mo’ning?” Momma asked, getting up and wiping her hands on her apron.

  When she opened the door, the tone of her voice changed.

  “Hi, what can we do for you?” she asked firmly.

  “I want to borrow a cup of sugar,” Nadine said. I cringed. The frequent sugar visits were getting to be a habit.

  Momma turned toward us. “The neighbor wants a cup of sugar.” Neither of us said anything. After a moment, Momma said, “Come on in. I will get you some. Did you bring a cup with you?”

  “No, Ma’am. I plain forgot,” she said.

  Momma cut her eyes at me. Nadine stepped inside the door and a smile rolled across her face.

  “Hi, Simon!” she said, waving, and then added, “Oh, hi, Carrie.” It came out like she’d forgotten about me. I glanced over at Simon, and immediately he took a sip of his coffee. He kept his eyes on the coffee he was drinking, never looking up. He appeared annoyed; I could see the tightening in his cheeks. Momma stood at the counter dipping sugar into a paper sack for Nadine. Nadine as usual was boldly staring at Simon as if I was not in the room. He inhaled and shifted his eyes toward Momma, who was also waiting to see what was going to happen.

  “Nadine, this is the first time I’ve seen you since I’ve been in town. Where have you been?” Momma asked.

  “Well, I sorta wasn’t around here for a while,” she answered, slyly gazing over at Simon.

  Momma quickly came back, “Where have you been?”

  “I’ve got some people down near Petersburg. Are you almost done with the sugar?” Nadine asked, as if all of a sudden she was in a hurry.

  Momma handed her the brown paper bag containing a cup of sugar. Nadine grabbed the bag and took off without saying another word. Simon did not move, yet there was an aura of mystique on his face. He coughed to clear his throat, but nothing came out.

  “I told you she didn’t have any manners. She strutted out of here without saying thank you,” Momma said, with a disgusted look on her face.

  “I’m just glad she is gone,” I said, peering over at Simon who had his hand around his chin as if he was in a deep thought.

  “I thought the girl had moved. I haven’t seen her or the children the entire time I’ve been here.”

  Momma said exactly what I was thinking. It appeared as if Nadine and Simon had the same schedule and it bothered me. The conversation at the table almost completely diminished with each step Nadine took back across the street. First there was chatter and now total silence. Her presence had changed the entire atmosphere of my home. Simon’s eyes had become slits and he was staring at the wall while Momma was standing at the sink mumbling about her rude departure. “That girl worries me,” Momma said, shaking her head, “She is trouble.” Momma was a professional at getting on my bad side, and today more so than ever. I wanted to choke her. Instead, I finished my breakfast and excused myself. It was time to get Robert from Mrs. Hall and bring him home.

  Chapter 10

  Although spring was around the corner, the winter chill still had the ground frozen stiff. The ground crunched underneath me with each step I took. I had gotten tired of being inside the house, so I took a walk down toward the club in hopes of running into Adam. I had been home all day snuggled around the fireplace waiting for my husband who seemed to always take his time coming home. Amazingly, some of the town was just finding out about Bessie Smith being in town, and they lined up to see her, only to meet disappointment. Simon swore he had a hard time convincing the eager crowd that Bessie Smith had come and was long gone.

  Walking had become a means to clear my head, especially when I was upset. I would walk for as long as it took to clear my head. At times I’d get lost in the scenery, the height of the trees and how the birds flew in a “V formation.” At times, I would walk behind a couple holding hands and I would get a little jealous inside. But I thought it was a beautiful thing—love, that is. As I approached the club, I could see smoke coming out of the chimney, billowing and dissipating in air. As I walked up on the club, something compelled me to step inside. Simon had said at the breakfast table that he had business to settle with the owner. I wasn’t sure who was the real owner of the club because the white man who had murdered Willie was there watching over Ms. Pearl and so was the tall, quiet, colored man I thought was the owner.

  I turned the doorknob and the door was unlocked. I walked into the club as if I worked there. I glanced around and didn’t see anybody but the bartender who seemed to never go home. He was wiping down the bar and arranging the shot glasses in a format only he could understand. He’d lined them on each side behind the bar. I walked over to him, and slid onto the bar stool. A strange place for me, since sitting at a bar was where single women sat who were hoping to be picked up for the night.

  “We’re not open, Ma’am,” the bartender said.

  “I was hoping to catch Ms. Pearl in here.”

  “I think she is in the back,”
he said, peering at the door in the back of the room.

  “I’ll go back there.”

  “Now wait a minute. She doesn’t like people looking in on her before the show.”

  “I’m from her hometown; I don’t think she will mind,” I assured him.

  “Well, you go on your own…”

  It was a strange feeling acting like a grownup. Richmond had been the city of changes for me. I had remembered being afraid to be seen in a place like this. Momma still called it a place for floozies and drunks. I see it as a place to get to know people. When Mrs. Maggie Walker was at the club, I felt I was amongst royalty, and everybody treated her in that manner. There were many other business owners who frequented the club; some I recognized and some I didn’t. It seemed to me like the entire community visited the club at some time or another. It was too early for action yet I searched around for a glimpse of Simon and even questioned the bartender before going in the back to see Ms. Pearl.

  “Is Simon here?”

  “I haven’t seen him today. He will probably be in later, though. I thought you wanted to see Ms. Pearl.”

  I smiled at his comment. I got up from the bar stool and walked toward the back room. The times I had been in the club, Ms. Pearl was always up front. This was the first time I had been in the back room, although I had seen people come out of the back while I was there, mainly the workers, the white man, and other mysterious-looking folks. I’d often wondered what was going on in the room, since folks were always coming and going.

  I heard voices coming from the room, even before I walked up. It was a jovial giggle being shared by Ms. Pearl and a man. I almost turned around, but instead, I tapped lightly on the door.

  “Who is it?” Ms. Pearl asked from the other side of the door.

  “It’s me… Carrie.”

  “Hold on a minute, baby,” she said.

  I waited patiently for a few seconds before the door cracked open.

  “Come on in,” she said, without me seeing her.

  I stepped inside the compact room. There was a davenport and a table with a kerosene lamp and a drink on it. Ms. Pearl was sitting on the davenport. After I was inside the door, it was closed behind me. When I heard the door close, I glanced over my shoulder and there was Kindred Camm standing in the room. Immediately, I began to get worried. I started to tremble. My hands turned wet from my nerves.

  “What’s wrong?” Ms. Pearl asked.

  “Can I talk to you alone?” I asked.

  “Sure you can,” she said, looking at Kindred. “Give us a few minutes.”

  “No problem,” Kindred said, and added, “nice to see you again, Carrie.”

  I cringed when he said my name. Ms. Pearl saw the frown roll over my face. He seemed to know me and we had never been introduced.

  “You all right?” she asked.

  “I’m fine,” I said, waiting for Kindred to leave, and shut the door. My knees were wobbly.

  “You seem upset, Carrie. What is wrong? Did Kindred say something to you?”

  “No, Ma’am. I just can’t believe he is Mr. Camm’s brother. He looks so much like his brother, it is scary.”

  She paused before speaking. “Me, either, Chile. Have a seat.”

  It took me a few seconds to gather myself before I could talk to Ms. Pearl.

  “Take your time.”

  I inhaled. I closed my eyes. I took exaggerated deep breaths, and finally got my heart to slow down and beat normally. It had felt as if my heart was going to jump out of my chest. When I finally contained my emotions and realized I had let Kindred steal my joy, I got back on track. I was in a state of panic. “Ms. Pearl, I have several things I want to talk to you about.”

  “I can see something is weighing you down. Sit down and rest for a minute.”

  I sat down in a wooden chair facing her. “You said I could stop by at any time, right?”

  “Yes, you are always welcome to come by to see me.”

  I glanced over at the door. “Simon is supposed to be here, right? Have you seen him?”

  “Honey, he is in and out. I haven’t seen him today.”

  “Ms. Pearl, do you like Simon?”

  “Now what kind of question is that?” she asked, studying me, and sipping on the drink that was on the table.

  “I’m having a hard time understanding men.”

  “They are all hard to understand. You ain’t by yourself.”

  “You sort of know men.”

  She shook her head. “Yes, I sort of know men. Now just ask me what you came in here for.”

  “Well, Simon is in and out of town. People see him places and he is denying it is true. Was he here the other night when Bessie Smith was in town?”

  “Simon knows a lot of people. He even knows Bessie. I can say for sure he was here because he is one of the people who drove her into town.”

  As I heard this, I could not do anything but bite my bottom lip and listen. “How does he know so many people?”

  “Now that is something you need to talk to him about, Chile.”

  “Do you know about him playing ball?”

  “Everybody knows he wants to play with the colored boys and the best, Pete Hill. He can talk about baseball all day long.”

  “He is always traveling with the Colored League.”

  “Yes, folks say he can really hit that ball too,” Ms. Pearl said.

  Most everybody knew of Pete Hill and Rube Foster. They were the best baseball players ever. Every colored player in Virginia was trying to hit like Pete Hill and gain the same kind of fame. After hearing so much about them, I, too, wanted to meet the infamous Pete Hill and his manager, Rube Foster. But I knew my Simon was holding some kind of secret by the manner in which Ms. Pearl answered my questions and twirled her hair at the same time.

  “Ms. Pearl, how can I get the truth from my husband?”

  “Just stand up to him. Tell him you know he is not telling you everything, and as his wife, you are entitled to know. That’s what I would tell my man. Now keep in mind that Simon is a businessman,” she said with a sly grin.

  “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

  “No, it is not up to me. He should tell you, and don’t be a fool for him or anybody else, now. You are young, but don’t be stupid.”

  I could tell by the way she expressed herself and the seriousness in her eyes, she was also concerned. I don’t think it was about me, but what I might find out. I wasn’t finished. I didn’t know how to ask this one, but I had to say something to her.

  “Ms. Pearl, is Kindred Camm really Herman’s brother?”

  “Well, Chile, he say he is. He is the spitting image of Herman. I am trying to believe Kindred, but the more he is around me, the more he looks and acts like his brother. Some twins are just alike. If I notice anything different, I will certainly say it. Right now, he is all right. You can’t be too sure of nothing these days. Colored men love to tell lies, Chile.”

  “Thanks, Ms. Pearl,” I said and got up to leave.

  “You’ve got a whole lot on your mind. Remember you are still a young girl. Don’t let stuff keep you from enjoying your life. Now where is that young man you came here with?”

  Immediately, I felt bad. I had been asking questions about my husband and all the time Ms. Pearl was also reading me. When she asked about Adam, I knew she knew about us.

  “I hope to see him soon.”

  “If I was you, I’d keep him around. I see the way he looks at you.”

  “I’m married, Ms. Pearl.”

  “So is Simon… Just take care of yourself. You have a life too.”

  As I stood up to leave, I couldn’t help thinking about Kindred who was outside the door, somewhere. Nobody really knew anything about Kindred. When he first came to town, it was to find his brother’s killer. Now all he did was hang around Ms. Pearl. On my way to the front door, I saw him sitting at the bar holding a drink of sorts in his hand. It was the same color as the dark liquor Herman used to drink. They were
so much alike. It was as if he didn’t have anywhere to be. He saw me and a smile ripped across his face. I glanced over at him with a nasty scowl on my face.

  “Have a good day,” he said as I headed out the door. I didn’t mumble a word. I looked back to see if his eyes were following me. Instead, he had gotten up and was walking back toward the room where Ms. Pearl was. I was relieved. He was not like his brother after all, gazing at young girls inappropriately and stalking them.

  I walked right into Simon’s chest as I was exiting the club. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw me. He immediately stopped right in his tracks. He put down the box he had in his arms, which appeared to be heavy. The bartender rushed over and struggled to pick up the box. “Thanks, man,” he said to Simon. He nodded.

  “What’s going on? Why are you coming out of here?” Simon demanded.

  “I dropped by to see you, but you were not here.”

  He cleared his throat and stepped back. “Now, you don’t need to be hanging around a place like this alone.”

  “Simon, I came to see you.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t be in here. This ain’t no place for a lady.”

  I heard him, and rolled my eyes at the same time. I couldn’t believe he was trying to make me feel bad for being in the club. After all, he loved to hang in there.

  “I am on the way home.”

  “I will walk with you,” he said, looking back at the club as we started to walk down the street.

  “Where were you?”

  “I ran downtown to pick up some things for the owner.”

  “The owner…”

  “Yeah.”

  “I must have missed him because I didn’t see him inside.”

  “I met him downtown.”

  Simon was lying as if it was nothing. There was not an expression of guilt on his face. And I doubt it if he’d come from downtown. I no longer knew him; the lies were becoming more and more frequent.

  “Where are the supplies?”

  “They are in the vehicle. I couldn’t lift but one box at a time.”

  “I was about to ask you about the car. Where is it?”

  “It is behind the club.”