The Other Half of My Heart

by Sundee T. Frazier

  “Not with you, she won’t. She never gets mad at you.” Keira yanked another of the yellow flowers.

  Minni felt herself crumbling like a sand castle under the waves of her sister’s anger. “If you hadn’t noticed, she’s making me do the exact same work as you.”

  “Yeah, but who got the gardening gloves?”

  Minni shoved the gloves at her sister. She didn’t care about sticking her hands in dirt. “I was going to give them to you all along.”

  Keira growled and threw down the gloves. “You’re Little Miss Perfect with the perfect grades and the perfectly good hair. Apparently now you have the perfect skin, too!”

  Minni’s body tingled all over, as if someone had taken one of those wire brushes used for scraping peeling paint to her arms, legs and face. She dropped to her knees and pulled out weeds as fast as she could. She couldn’t help the color of the skin she’d gotten. It hadn’t been her choice.

  She dug her hands into the ground, letting the deep brown get under her fingernails. Mama always told them there were no ugly colors, but Minni knew differently. Her skin was the ugliest color she had ever seen. Buttermilk ugly.

  When she had a pile of weeds the size of a molehill, she dumped them in the waste bin, then turned to her sister. “Don’t follow me,” she said, feeling cross. She walked down the front steps, turned at the elm tree and marched down the sidewalk—all the way to the corner store, where she bought herself a soda, guzzled it right on the sidewalk for anyone to see and belched as loudly as she pleased. After that, she went back in, bought a soda for Keira and returned to Grandmother Johnson’s.

  When she got there, Keira was sitting at the bottom of the cement steps, far enough down that Grandmother Johnson wouldn’t be able to see her if she looked out the front window. “Where did you go?” she asked.

  Minni held out the soda.

  Keira kept her hands tucked under her arms. “No, thanks.”

  Minni sat on the step below her sister. “Please, Keira…I can’t help the things she says.”

  “You didn’t exactly speak up and tell her she was wrong.” Keira’s eyes flashed. “And after I shared how I feel at school sometimes. I never should have told you!”

  The words sliced Minni’s heart, sending shooting pains down the insides of her arms. Her eyes prickled with tears. She set the bottle next to her sister, trying to get Keira to look at her. When Keira refused, Minni trudged up the steps, just in time to see the gray, one-eyed Billie Holiday slink away with one of Grandmother Johnson’s gloves.

  “Hey!” Minni shouted, and ran after the animal, but it raced around the corner of Miss Oliphant’s house and disappeared under the back porch. She looked for a way to follow the cat but didn’t see a hole large enough to crawl through.

  A knock from inside the kitchen window made her jump. She looked up. Miss Oliphant! Around her grinning, ghostly face hung five or six brown, shriveled spheres with squinty eyes and crooked smiles.

  A chill ran down Minni’s spine. She stood to run, but Miss Oliphant was already at the door. “It’s hotter than a grease-poppin’ griddle out here. Too hot to be weeding flower beds, if you ask me. I bet you could use some lemonade.”

  Minni’s muscles were taut. Her throat constricted. She glanced toward the front yard and steps, but Keira was out of sight.

  “What’s wrong, child? Cat got your tongue?”

  No, my grandmother’s glove, Minni thought, but she didn’t say anything—just stood there frozen between this woman she wasn’t sure she could trust and her best friend–sister who had never gotten as angry with her as she had been back there in the flower bed. Minni’s eyes welled with tears. She looked quickly toward the old apple tree, blinking and hoping the woman hadn’t noticed.

  “Come on in and give those arms a rest. You can fetch your sister if you want.”

  Minni glanced toward the front again. Miss Oliphant knew Keira was her sister? Had Grandmother Johnson told her about them? Or could she actually tell? And when had she seen them together? Probably that day on her front porch…

  Minni shook her head. “That’s okay.” Then she thought of the MLK monument—the smooth, calm water flowing over Miss Oliphant’s name. The woman continued to gaze at her. “Well, maybe—for a minute.” Minni felt pulled forward, as if she were the ocean and the woman were the moon.

  The kitchen was bright and cheery, with light blue walls, gleaming chrome on the appliances, and white cabinets. A shiny silver toaster sat on the counter. Everything was spotless and well ordered. “May I use your sink?” Minni asked.

  “Of course.”

  Minni washed her hands, then joined the woman at the table in the breakfast nook, trying not to stare at her cloudy eye or look at the heads hanging from the light fixture overhead. A stack of gingerbread squares sat on a plate on the table.

  “So, Minerva has you out there weeding her flowers,” Miss Oliphant said, setting a glass of lemonade in front of Minni. Minni’s belly was already full from the soda, but it wouldn’t be polite to refuse the lady’s generosity. “It’s kind of you to help your grandmother like that.”

  Was Miss Oliphant aware of other ways they had “helped” their grandmother, such as with the bag of poop?

  “Just so you know, I don’t hold you responsible for the shenanigan she pulled the other day.”

  Minni looked up. Could the woman read minds, too?

  “You don’t?”

  “Of course not. I saw you on my porch, of course, but as soon as I took down that bag I knew who was really behind it. That grandmother of yours is one feisty woman. When she thinks she’s right about something, no one can stop her.”

  The description actually sounded a lot like Keira.

  Keira. Minni looked into her lap again, not wanting Miss Oliphant to see the hurt in her eyes. Her sister had accused her of not speaking out, not standing up for her, and she was right—Minni had failed her. Her face grew warm with shame.

  “Is something the matter?” Miss Oliphant asked. “If you don’t mind me saying so, you seem a bit downcast.”

  Minni shook her head.

  Miss Oliphant pushed the plate toward her. Minni raised her eyes just enough to see the thick, moist-looking squares. The bread’s warm, gingery smell made her mouth water. “It’s a few days old now, but it’s still delicious, if I do say so myself. And I do.”

  Minni reached out and took a piece. She licked her lips, then bit into the soft bread. The spicy, sweet taste spread across her tongue. She couldn’t not smile.

  Miss Oliphant put a piece of gingerbread on a napkin and set it in front of her. “For your sister.”

  Minni set the rest of her piece on the napkin. The sweet treat was incredibly delicious, but it was hard to enjoy it fully knowing how things were with Keira. “She’s mad at me.” Minni looked out the window. That bird with the yellow head was at the feeder again.

  “Oh?” Miss Oliphant sat quietly. Minni appreciated the silence. She watched the bird peck at the seeds and then fly away. “And why is that?” Miss Oliphant asked.

  The question stopped Minni. She didn’t know exactly. Or maybe she was just too ashamed to say. But somehow, sitting there in Miss Oliphant’s presence, she felt it was okay to try. “I didn’t tell our grandmother she was wrong about something.”

  “Mmmm. That can be a hard thing to do, standing up and speaking out for what’s right. Especially when you’re up against something—or someone—much bigger than yourself.”

  “You did it,” Minni said. “We read on the MLK monument that you were a…a ‘champion’ civil rights leader.”

  “Oh, that. I suppose I’ve done some standing up and speaking out over the years.”

  “How did you—I mean, where did you find the courage?” Minni looked her straight in the eye.

  “Honey child, when a wrong in the world gets inside the people you love most and starts making them think there’s something wrong with them, well, you have to act.”

  Minni chewed o
n the woman’s words as she savored the taste of cinnamon and ginger on her tongue.

  Starts making them think there’s something wrong with them…

  Keira had said she felt wrong at their school sometimes. But what was the wrong that was getting inside her exactly, and how could Minni speak out about it?

  She picked up the napkin and stood. “Thank you.”

  “Any time.” Miss Oliphant smiled. Her eye wasn’t so spooky, really.

  “Oh! Billie Holiday took one of my grandmother’s gloves.”

  Miss Oliphant laughed. “It’s her hunting instinct. I suppose I should try to break her of the habit, but it’s just so amusing!”

  Minni grinned. “I won’t tell.” She walked back to Grandmother Johnson’s yard, finishing her square of gingerbread. Keira and the soda were gone from the steps, so she slipped inside and up to the attic.

  Keira sat on her bed, sketching and listening to her mp3 player. Minni set the dessert next to Keira’s leg and lay down on her own bed. Keira glanced at the food but kept drawing. A while later, she picked it up, sniffed it and took a bite. Minni smiled, knowing what her sister was experiencing.

  Keira obviously was trying not to show how much she liked the gingerbread, but she couldn’t fool Minni. The corners of her mouth twitched and her cheeks rose up a little, and Minni felt happy knowing she’d given her sister a reason to smile again.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Keira barely said two words to Minni all the next day. Minni didn’t even try to tell her about sitting in Laverna Oliphant’s kitchen or the conversation she’d had with their new neighbor. Anyway, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. It seemed like something to keep to herself, at least for now.

  She sat on the porch swing reading a book from their grandmother’s shelf, Up from Slavery, by Booker T. Washington. She thought it was interesting that Washington had a black mom and a white dad, just like her and Keira, although his mother had been a slave and his father a slave owner. Minni was so glad she didn’t live back then.

  Between her bum knee and an upset stomach, Grandmother Johnson wasn’t feeling too well. She mostly stayed in her room with the AC unit running. Keira practiced her tumbling routine in the side yard (Grandmother Johnson didn’t know she was outside without sunscreen); then she disappeared inside.

  A while later, Miss Oliphant stepped onto her porch with a bag of cat food. “Good afternoon,” she called. “It’s a beauty of a day, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, ma’am, it is.” The air felt soft on Minni’s bare arms and legs, as if she were soaking in a tub of warm water scented with flowers heated by the sun. Summer air in the South was different than summer air back home, with its smells of pine, pulp and salt water, and the cool breeze coming off the ocean, but she liked it all right. It was nice, actually.

  “Got yourself a good book?”

  Minni glanced at the cover. “Up from Slavery, by Booker T. Washington,” she said.

  “An important work,” Miss Oliphant replied. She stooped to pour cat food into a dish. “Mr. Washington worked tirelessly for the education of black people at a crucial time in our history.” She stood again. “When you’re done with that one, make sure you read Dr. W.E.B. DuBois.”

  “Doo Boyz?” Minni squinted.

  “That’s right. DuBois. The Souls of Black Folk. That man put down in words what it is to be black in America, better than anyone I’ve ever read. He burned with a passion to rid this country of racism—devoted his whole life to the struggle.”

  Minni was intrigued. “Thanks,” she said.

  Miss Oliphant gave a nod and went back inside.

  Later, when Minni went to see what Keira was doing, she found her holed up in the bathroom. Minni stood outside the door. She started to knock, then stopped. She rested her head on the door frame. “Are you okay in there?” she asked softly. Every few moments, something clinked against the porcelain sink. Keira must be doing her hair.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You want to play hearts or something?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Speed?”

  “No.”

  “Two-person solitaire?”

  Silence. “I just want to be alone, all right?”

  “We should really do some more reading. You haven’t done any since Monday.”

  “Leave me alone, Minni!”

  Minni swallowed. It felt as if someone with an ice cream scooper had dug out half her heart. “All right,” she whispered, and went to the porch again, where she sat on the steps and watched ants come and go from a crack in the cement. Two ants approached each other, stopped and touched antennae.

  Together, Keira had said. They would get through this together.

  So why was she insisting on going it alone?

  * * *

  That night, after they were both upstairs, Minni pulled out the tape recorder she had hidden under her pillow earlier in the day. She had also gone looking for Dr. DuBois’s book on Grandmother Johnson’s shelves, but she hadn’t found it.

  Keira sat on her bed filing her toenails. She had washed and blow-dried her hair that afternoon, then pressed it straight with her ceramic flatiron. Keira still wasn’t talking, but Minni had to at least try. “I’ve got another idea,” Minni said. “An idea for how we can get back at her again…for the stupid thing she said to you yesterday.”

  Keira lowered her eyelids. “What?”

  “You’re really going to like this one.”

  “Great. What is it?” Keira leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms.

  “But we’ve got to do it together.”

  “Okay, okay! Tell me already!” Keira shook the emery board impatiently.

  Minni lowered her voice and held up the tape recorder. “We’ll record her snoring.”

  Keira’s face broke into a smile for the first time that day.

  “I’m nervous, though,” Minni said. “What if she wakes up while we’re in her room?”

  “You know she sleeps like a cow in a coma.” Keira slapped her bed, laughing. “Ooo, just think what she’ll do when she hears how she shakes the walls of this house!”

  Minni grinned. For once, she couldn’t wait for Grandmother Johnson to start her log sawing.

  When the snuffling and snorting began, they went into action. Minni stood and saluted. “Operation Silence the Saw—now in progress.”

  Keira threw her pillow at her. “You’re such a goof.”

  Minni smiled, glad that everything was finally back to normal between them.

  “We’ll just get in and get out, okay?” Keira’s voice had turned serious, as if they were about to engage in a life-threatening mission and could end up prisoners of war or something.

  “Okay.” Minni went first. She took the stairs slowly, trying to remember the spots that creaked and step around them. At the bottom, she let her eyes adjust to the darkness. Fortunately, the moon was putting off a nice glow that night. In the living room, light frosted the tops of the furniture. The light spilled into the hallway, helping her see where to put her feet. The end of the hall, however, where Grandmother Johnson slept, was pitch black. She’d have to let the sound guide her.

  She walked toward the snoring with an outstretched hand. Keira followed close on her heels.

  Get in and get out.

  Bang! She ran right into Grandmother Johnson’s closed door. Keira bumped into her.

  Grandmother Johnson slept with her door closed? Minni had been sure she must sleep with it open, the way they could hear her sawing two-by-fours all night long.

  Keira giggled.

  Minni put a hand over her mouth and pinched her nose to keep herself from laughing.

  Fortunately, Grandmother Johnson’s snoring didn’t miss a beat. She really did sleep like a cow in a coma.

  Minni groped for the doorknob. She twisted it carefully, holding her breath until she could feel her heart galloping between her lungs. The knob gave and she moved into the room, grateful for the moonlight oozing a
round the pulled shades.

  Grandmother Johnson’s large body looked like a mountain range under her crumpled blankets and rumbled like a volcano about to blow.

  “Phhhhht!”

  Minni clamped her hand over her mouth and nose again and strained against the tsunami of laughter that swelled inside her. Grandmother Johnson was letting out air from both ends! She must have taken her antigas pills earlier that night.

  Keira apparently couldn’t control herself any longer. She rushed out. Minni heard muffled laughter in the other room. She imagined her sister with her face buried in a throw pillow.

  Minni tiptoed toward the bed, grateful that their grandmother was the kind of person who would never leave her clothes or shoes on the floor, as Minni was prone to do. She held her finger over the Record button, getting closer, closer…

  The mattress creaked as the giant mountain rolled.

  She dove for the end of the bed and crouched behind the footboard, ready to ditch the recorder if she needed to. I had a bad dream…I had a bad dream, she rehearsed. It would be her excuse for being in the room.

  Any moment, their grandmother’s sharp voice would be demanding to know who was there. But the voice never came—just a heavy exhale—and within two breaths, she was back at it again, snoring just as loudly, if not more loudly than before.

  Minni didn’t wait. She pushed the Record button firmly (thankfully, the machine ran on batteries), then hurried back to the side of the bed. She held the recorder near Grandmother Johnson’s head. She stayed put as long as she could—until the fear of getting caught became greater than the enjoyment of gathering this evidence that would force Grandmother Johnson to face the cold, hard truth that she was indeed a snorer.

  She slunk from the room and shut the door quietly, leaving Grandmother Johnson to her rest.

  “Mission accomplished,” she whispered to Keira, and they crept back up the stairs.

  Later, while Keira slept peacefully on the other side of the room, Minni tossed and turned, wishing that tomorrow—the first day of the dreaded pageant—would never come.

  Chapter Twenty-three