Mama added more carmine to the brown-skinned lady’s dress in her painting. “All of the above, and more.”
“But I don’t look black.”
Mama rested her painting hand on her leg. “You don’t?”
Minni rolled her eyes. “Mama.”
“Where do you think you got those big round eyes?”
Minni knew her eyes were shaped just like Mama’s. “But they’re blue. Black people don’t have blue eyes.”
“Hmm…I see….” Mama went back to her painting. “And those nice full lips that your sister’s so jealous of?” She glanced at Minni from the corner of her eye. “Where’d you get those?”
Minni pulled in her lips and huffed. She looked longingly at Mama’s beautiful kinked twists of hair held back from her face by a bright orange and fuchsia scarf tied at the nape of her neck. “What about this?” Minni held up the floppy end of one of her limp red pigtails. “I don’t exactly have a black person’s hair.”
“Gigi had to get herself in there somewhere.” Gigi loved to point out that she and Minni shared the same color hair, although Gigi only kept hers red with the help of dye. “That Irish pride runs deep and has some strong genes to go with it.”
“Then where are Keira’s Irish genes?”
Mama sucked in her breath, making a light whistling sound. “Don’t ever let Gigi hear you say that. Where do you think Keira gets her feisty spirit? According to Gigi, that fire is pure Celt.”
Minni had heard Gigi say that as many times as she’d pointed out Minni’s hair. “Is that what you think?”
“Your sister’s a lot more fiery than I’ve ever been, that’s for sure.”
Minni didn’t think it very fair that she had gotten the fire hair but not the fire spirit to go with it. Keira was much more like Daddy and Gigi that way—they all laughed loudly, cried openly and expressed affection freely—whereas Minni had Mama’s kind reserve and tendency to worry what others might think. It wasn’t that she and Mama didn’t feel things deeply or love intensely—these things just got expressed more quietly than they did with Keira and Daddy. She didn’t know what, if anything, they’d gotten from Grandmother Johnson. Except, in Minni’s case, The Name, of course.
Mama wiped her hands on a rag. She reached down and lifted Minni’s face. Their eyes locked. “Where’s all this coming from, anyway?”
Mama’s fingers held steady. Minni shifted her eyes to avoid Mama’s gaze.
A sharp memory pierced her thoughts, sending an aching pain all the way to the soles of her feet. She was sitting on the living room rug in the hollow of Mama’s crossed legs, like a chicken in a soup pot. They were watching Sesame Street. Keira sat beside them with her elbow propped on Mama’s knee. Minni felt safe with Mama’s arms draped around her and her warm breath heating the top of her head.
That was when the song came on:
One of these things is not like the other.
One of these things just doesn’t belong.
She saw Keira’s brown arm on Mama’s brown leg, and then her own pale skin against them both, and she shrank. She felt as though she was shriveling inside the protective shell of Mama’s body until she was nothing.
“Hey.” Mama shook her shoulder gently, bringing her back to their deck and the smell of the pulp mill on the warm summer air.
Minni blinked. What had they been talking about?
Mama cocked her head and squinted. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Nothing.”
“Uh-huh.”
Then Minni remembered the story they’d heard several times, from when she and Keira were babies, about the woman at the park who saw Mama holding Minni and asked if she was looking for more nanny work. Mama had been furious.
If only Minni had been born darker, people would know she wasn’t someone else’s daughter. And she wasn’t just Keira’s friend.
“Mama?”
Mama raised her eyebrows, as if to say, I’m waiting.
“People think I’m white when they look at me. Ever since the day I was born.”
Mama put her brush down. “Maybe some people.” She got off her stool and sat on the side of the lounge chair.
“What if the pageant people think I’m white? What if the other girls…?”
Mama let out a low hum, as if all the mysteries of the universe had suddenly come clear. “You know, as much as I’ve soured on these pageants since the days when I participated, I’m actually glad you’re going. Being in the South is going to be good for you.”
“It is?” Minni was surprised to hear Mama say that, since it seemed she had gotten as far from the South as she could without falling into the Pacific Ocean.
“Growing up in North Carolina, I knew black people who were as dark as licorice and as light as cream. Some had doctoral degrees and some had farmed all their lives. Some had money and some didn’t. Some even had blue eyes.”
Minni’s eyes opened a bit wider.
“Yes, they did. There were plenty of differences, but we shared a common ancestry, which you share as well. And no matter what a person’s job or education or skin tone, in the end we all faced, and were united by, a common struggle.”
Minni bit her bottom lip. She saw the image of Dr. King and the others, arm in arm.
“There are many ways to be black, Min. Down there, people will be able to see it’s a part of you, too.”
Minni turned Mama’s words over and over in her mind as if they were gemstones. She wanted to see all the facets.
“Being in this pageant is going to be good for you, too.” Mama put her arm around Minni’s shoulders. It didn’t matter that they were different colors. Mama was still her mama. “Like being in that high school play was for me.” She gave Minni a squeeze. “I don’t want you to be crippled by shyness like I was half my life. It’s time for you to come out from the shadows, Little Moon, and shine.”
Minni chewed on her lip. She hoped Mama was right about all this, but she didn’t know. “I think I’ll go read,” she said. She scooted past Mama and headed for the sliding glass door.
“Daughter.”
Minni stopped and turned.
“Oh, good. You haven’t forgotten. You’re my daughter. And your daddy’s daughter. And Keira’s sister. And your own strong human self. Not a color. Got it?”
Minni nodded, but her heart still wasn’t sure.
“Good.” Mama blew a kiss, and Minni went inside.
Chapter Eight
The morning they were to leave for North Carolina, Keira wanted to fix Minni’s hair the way she might wear it for the pageant. Normally in the summer, Keira would sleep until nine or ten, but not this morning. She pulled Minni out of bed at five-thirty and made her put on her clothes so she wouldn’t mess up her hair after it was done. Keira was already dressed.
Minni yawned and stumbled behind her sister to the bathroom, where she plopped down on the toilet seat. As Keira dragged the brush through Minni’s hair, Minni slowly came to. They were really going.
Keira gathered Minni’s red locks into a high ponytail, loosely twisting a few strands on the sides, and secured the hair with an elastic band. Then she took sections from the ponytail and twisted them until they coiled. She bobby-pinned the loose ends of the coils, making a heap of loops on the top of Minni’s head. She used her fingers to mess the loops a little, then pulled a few strands free at the sides of Minni’s face, and curled the strands with her curling iron. The final touch: two dainty flower-shaped clips, sparkling with rhinestones. She put one on either side of the crown of Minni’s head. Then she sprayed enough hair spray to shellac a small boat.
Minni coughed.
Keira stood to the side, smiling widely. “I believe my work here is done.” She stuffed barrettes, bands and bobby pins back into their compartments in her vanity case.
“What about yours?” Minni asked.
“I haven’t decided for sure yet how I want to do it,” Keira said, pulling her thick hair into a single
pompon at the back of her head and clipping barrettes on either side to keep the hair in place. “But believe me, it will be knock-your-socks-off amazing.”
They heard a dog’s claws clicking on the wood floor as it skittered this way and that—then Gigi calling, “I came to say goodbye to my gir-r-r-ls!”
“If that little rat tries to slobber on me…” Keira slapped her palm with her wide-toothed comb.
Minni stepped around the corner. Banjo practically catapulted himself into her arms. She scooped him up and gave him a big kiss.
“My, oh my!” Gigi exclaimed. Mama closed the door and turned to look. Daddy smiled from across the room.
Gigi reached for Minni’s hair and touched it lightly here and there. “Don’t you look exquisite? I love it!”
“It was all Keira,” Minni said.
Keira appeared in the doorway. “You like?” she asked. They all expressed their approval.
Minni smiled in spite of herself. It was just hair, after all. But she had to admit, the style made her feel almost glamorous—and very grown-up.
“With that Sunset Pink blusher and Touch-of-Pink lip gloss we tried on you the other night,” Gigi said, “well, you and your sister are going to steal the show.”
Mama stepped forward. “Both of you are beautiful, but remember this program is not primarily about how you look on the outside. It’s about each girl getting to express who she is on the inside.” She looked deeply into Minni’s eyes. “Right?”
Minni nodded.
“But it won’t hurt to look good, too!” Keira said. Banjo stretched his neck, trying to sniff her face. She shielded herself with her hand. “Isn’t it time to go?” she asked.
“Yep!” Daddy said. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
Minni handed Banjo to Gigi, who plopped herself in the leather armchair. Mama followed them to their bedroom for one final check of their bags.
Bessie Coleman greeted them with a “Hello” and a whistle, as if she too had noticed Minni’s hair. Minni let the bird climb onto her hand for one final pet. As well as finishing Around the World in Eighty Days, which they had started a few nights ago with Keira following along, Daddy had promised to spend a little time with Bessie each day—letting her out of her cage, talking to her and of course feeding and watering her.
Mama counted what they’d packed on her fingers. “You’ve got your dresses, your shoes, stockings, at least two skirt outfits each, nice pants, a couple of blouses, and plenty of shorts and T-shirts, right?”
“Right,” Keira said.
“Underwear and socks?”
“Check.”
“Hair care, deodorant…”
“Of course.”
“Swimsuits and swim cap, just in case?” Mama looked at Keira, who wore a swim cap to keep her hair from having to be washed every time they went swimming. Minni didn’t wear a swim cap. Her wavy, oilier hair could and needed to be washed more often.
“Check.”
“Your tumbling costume for your talent routine?” Mama looked at Keira again. When Minni had discovered that the talent competition was optional, she had immediately opted out. Fortunately, Mama hadn’t fought her on it.
“You’re wearing your tennis shoes…what else? Oh, the applications. Where did they end up?”
Minni pointed to her backpack. “In my Dr. King book, so they won’t get crumpled.”
“Good. Your grandmother wouldn’t approve of crumpled.”
They had finished their applications the same day they’d started them, listing their hobbies, volunteer activities (Minni had gotten to help out at the animal shelter twice that week and would resume her duties when she returned) and awards and other achievements. They also had to write two essays—one on how they would use the title of Miss Black Pearl Preteen of America to bring attention to an issue they cared about, and the other on what they might like to do as a career.
Minni’s issue of concern was the environment. She had already organized one class cleanup trip to the beach and planned to expand the project to include the whole school next year. When Keira had a hard time coming up with something, Minni suggested she could use the title to bring awareness to the struggles of kids with learning disabilities, like her, which Keira thought was a great idea.
Keira had no problem writing about her career plans—to be a fashion designer—but Minni wasn’t so sure what to say. She decided on animal researcher—researching about them, not on them—or veterinarian. She would be happy with either of those jobs.
As for the grades question, Mama directed Keira to leave it blank. She had called the Black Pearls of America office and learned that the program still had the same rule about academic performance. Grades didn’t exclude a girl from participation, but she would earn extra points and possibly the award for academic excellence if she included a copy of her report cards from the previous two years. Mama had slipped Minni’s in with her application in spite of Minni’s protests. She didn’t like getting attention for her grades—she feared how it might make Keira feel—but then Keira sided with Mama about the report cards, so Minni gave in.
“There’s just one last thing,” Mama said. She disappeared down the hall and returned a moment later with a gift bag in each hand. Minni put Bessie Coleman back in her cage. Daddy leaned against the door frame, a grin on his face. He sipped coffee from his KISS ME I’M IRISH mug.
Keira had the tissue paper out in two seconds. She squealed. Minni peeked into her bag. A cell phone? Wow! Just last month, Mama had insisted Keira and Minni were still too young.
Keira stripped the bubblegum-pink phone from its box and danced around the room with it over her head. Minni held hers in her hand, admiring its turquoise color and enjoying the grown-up feel of it.
“The deal is you only use them to call your dad and me, or each other. Your grandmother was less than excited to know you’d have them, but I don’t care. I want us to stay in close contact while you’re gone. We’ll talk later about what happens to them once you’re home. Got it?”
They nodded enthusiastically and thanked their parents—Keira with lots of cheek kisses—and then everyone grabbed a bag or two. Minni stayed behind while the others tramped down the hall.
“Well, Bessie Coleman, this is it. I have no idea what’s going to happen—”
The bird squawked.
“But I’m going to try my best. Make sure Daddy’s reading that book while I’m gone, okay?” Minni had picked Around the World in Eighty Days because the story involved flying—by hot-air balloon as well as airplane, not to mention traveling by train, steamship, sledge and even an elephant. She figured all the action should keep Daddy’s attention. “He’ll take care of you.”
She looked around their room, trying to memorize it all—Keira’s fuzzy lime-green throw pillows, the crystal sun catcher in the window, the sound of the ocean near the bottom of their bluff. She gazed at Keira’s mural of a boutique-lined Paris street with the Eiffel Tower in the background, then hers of Mount Rainier. “Ten days isn’t so long, right?”
“See ya!” Bessie Coleman stretched her marbled black-and-white wings, showing off her sky-blue body. She flapped them as if to say goodbye.
Minni touched the cage and looked into Bessie’s tiny black eyes. “See you soon.”
Daddy flew them to Boeing Field in Seattle, and they took a shuttle to SeaTac International Airport. Minni was used to being in the sky, since Daddy took her up often, but she hadn’t been in a jet since they were six—the last time they’d visited Grandmother Johnson. Seeing the big planes made her excited, but a little nervous, too.
They had to say goodbye to Mama and Daddy at the security checkpoint. An airline attendant would take them the rest of the way. Daddy squeezed them tightly. Mama hugged their necks and kissed their faces. She even had to wipe a tear from her cheek.
Then, just like that, they were off. On the other side of the checkpoint they waved to their parents. Daddy didn’t stop blowing kisses until they were ou
t of sight. Minni blinked to keep herself from crying.
Walking down the crowded corridor, Keira was glued to the attendant’s side, asking her about the “glamorous life of a stewardess” and if she’d ever worked flights to Paris, which was where Keira had already announced she planned to study fashion.
On the plane, another attendant hung their pageant dresses in a compartment near the cockpit. They found their seats, and Minni pulled out her Dr. King book. Keira called Mama and Daddy on her cell phone, just because she could. “We’re sitting on the plane!” she said, as if they didn’t know. “There’s a little TV at every seat!” Then she got out the disposable camera Mama had packed for each of them and took a picture of her and Minni, their shoulders and heads pressed together. Minni could only manage a small smile.
She opened her book. She had been surprised to learn that Martin wasn’t even Dr. King’s real name. It was Michael. Some of his friends called him Mike his entire life. His dad had changed his own name and his firstborn son’s after visiting Germany and learning about some famous church guy named Martin Luther—a man whom he apparently had been very impressed with and wanted his son to be like.
Minni hadn’t been named after anyone famous, just Grandmother Johnson—a woman who, as far as she could tell, she didn’t want to be like at all. As the plane taxied toward the runway, she rested her head on the seat, closed her eyes and tried to think about anything other than where they were headed.
Chapter Nine
A few hours after switching planes in Chicago, they bumped to the ground in Raleigh. In the Jetway, the warm, sticky air clung to Minni’s skin, making her feel sluggish and slow.
She shuffled along behind the escort and Keira, who walked with clipped, sure steps and swiveled her bag around small children, a luggage cart and a guide dog with the smooth sophistication of a veteran flight attendant.
Minni found herself staring at people passing in the corridor and waiting for planes—the very thing she disliked having others do to her and her family. But she couldn’t help it. This was nothing like Port Townsend, or even Seattle, for that matter. “There are so many more black people than at home,” she whispered to Keira.
The Other Half of My Heart Page 5