Down Home Blues

by Phyllis R. Dixon

  “Talk about taking advantage of a situation. She talked Daddy into buying new appliances, including a dishwasher. Mama never had a dishwasher. She’s trying to take over,” Cecelia said. “I guess next she’ll be getting her mail over there. Why can’t Daddy see what she’s doing?”

  “Daddy is a grown man and this is his house.”

  “It’s also Mama’s house and I don’t think she would appreciate another woman sleeping in it. Dating a younger woman is bad enough, now Daddy is shacking up. He must be losing his mind.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, she’s sleeping in your old room. But you’ve got to accept this.”

  “No, I don’t. And it’s not just me. Beverly and Carolyn both think Daddy getting serious is a terrible idea, but they won’t speak up.”

  “Mama and Daddy kept their vows for over fifty years – until death do us part. So now they’ve parted. Daddy is still here and deserves to be happy. Don’t be so selfish. Think about what Daddy wants.”

  “I’m thinking about what Emma wants, Daddy’s money.” Through a combination of thriftiness and hard work, C.W. Washington had pulled himself up by his bootstraps. He was part of a dying breed – a black farmer. In the early nineteen hundreds, African Americans owned fifteen million acres, but that number had dwindled to less than three million by the dawn of the twenty first century. Many families lost their land to unpaid taxes or heirs’ property. But Daddy beat the odds. He started with forty acres and kept adding to it. He is now the largest black landowner in the county. He drives a truck that’s twenty years old and rarely borrowed money. In recent years, he added to his holdings with a settlement from the Black Farmer’s lawsuit, and then his wife’s insurance money. Drilling in the area had driven up land prices. Not bad for a sharecropper’s son.

  “You don’t give him enough credit. He’s not a horny teenager going after the first woman that winks at him. Do you know how many good sisters of Eden and surrounding parts were after him – including some of Mama’s so-called friends? We ate good for weeks. Somebody was bringing a homemade something or other over here every day. Daddy was fresh meat in shark infested waters.”

  “So was Emma’s sweet potato pie the best?”

  “I think Daddy likes her because she’s a lot like him. He and Mama were opposites in many ways and that worked. Opposites attract, but it takes time to work through those opposites. I don’t think Daddy is trying to spend time working things out or rediscovering the passion that he and Mama had. He just wants someone to hang out with. He and Emma enjoy the same things. They play cards every Tuesday at the community center. You know Mama didn’t like to play cards. They watch Sanford and Son reruns and laugh like they’ve never seen the episodes before. Every Sunday morning they go fishing and he cleans them and she cooks them.”

  “That’s because she doesn’t go to church like Mama did.”

  “That doesn’t make her a bad person. You don’t go to church either.”

  “That’s because I have to work.”

  “Don’t give me that excuse. As long as you’ve been working, you could change your schedule sometime if you wanted to,” Carl reminded her.

  “Well, how often do you go to church?”

  “I never claimed to be Jesus Jr. and I’m not criticizing anybody else about it. How did we get on this subject? I didn’t call to argue with you.”

  “Then what did you call for?”

  “Can’t a brother call to talk to his sister?”

  “It’s possible, but I know you. What’s up?” Cecelia asked.

  “The storm made national news so I thought maybe you were worried about us.”

  “Umm. Well, obviously Daddy is doing fine. Was that it?” Cecelia said.

  “There is one other thing. I want to reinstate my plumber’s license and I need to come up there to take a test. Can I stay with you for a few days? All the hotels require a credit card to make a reservation, and I can’t afford one anyway.”

  “Now you are talking crazy. You know you don’t need to get a hotel. Is it all right for you to travel?”

  “My parole officer said she would approve a one week trip.”

  “So when are you planning to come?”

  “I’m not sure. I may wait until June. I’ll be off paper by then. And I wanted to make sure it was okay with you first.”

  “Of course it’s okay. You should know that.”

  “I know I burned a lot of bridges and wore out my welcome more than once, but—”

  “Carl, what’s past is past. Everybody makes mistakes.”

  “I appreciate that. I just hate that my mistakes affected the whole family. My brothers tried to talk to me. Carolyn quit speaking to me for years and wouldn’t even answer my letters. You were so mean, I wished you wouldn’t speak to me.”

  “It’s called tough love. You were using and conning everybody and I wasn’t buying your bullshit.”

  “I see that now, and it breaks my heart to think of what Mama and Daddy went through. I wasted a lot of time and money.”

  “You can’t spend the rest of your life beating yourself up about it.”

  “I keep telling myself that. I’m lucky I had a family that would stick with me until I finally came to my senses.”

  “Now I need to use some of that tough love on Daddy to get him to come to his senses.”

  “Cece, his situation is totally different.”

  “Bullshit is bullshit. She may have sucked you in with sweet potato pies and fried fish, but that doesn’t move me. And it certainly isn’t worth giving away all that Mama helped build. Plus, since she works at the school, I’m sure she knows that Daddy gets a retirement check from driving the school bus all those years. Daddy is still grieving and not in the best of health and I refuse to let someone take advantage of him. I’m glad you called. I was planning to come down there next month, but it sounds like I need to get there sooner. This madness has gone on long enough. I thought you guys would handle this, but Carolyn is too busy being a newlywed and Beverly is too busy trying to date every man in Memphis. I see I need to come myself. Plus, I heard U.S. Energy is signing people up for mineral leases and Daddy wouldn’t even talk to them.”

  “How did you find out about that?”

  “I have my sources. He’s listening to Raymond and not reason. What could be better than getting a check for doing nothing? I need to talk some sense into him.”

  “Cecelia, don’t come down here starting trouble.”

  “I’m not starting anything. But I definitely plan to end it. You’ll all thank me one day,” Cecelia said as she stood and pushed her chair under the table. “I’m going to put in for emergency vacation days first thing in the morning.” Now where she would find some emergency money was another thing.

  “I would hardly call this an emergency,” Carl said.

  “Daddy losing his mind is an emergency. I’ll be there as soon as I can get away. And tell that gold-digger to get out of my room.”

  CAROLYN

  “Good evening, Miss Rock Star,” Carl said as he opened the car door and stepped aside for me. “You look mighty jazzy with those dark sunglasses on.”

  “I guess this is how celebrities feel. Let’s see, am I Beyoncé or Oprah?”

  “What about Miss Daisy? Can I go make water?”

  “Funny. The drops make my eyes extra sensitive to sunlight. I go to the doctor next Friday, and hopefully I’ll be done with the drops and can start back driving. I don’t mind being chauffeured to and from work, but I don’t like being stuck at the house.”

  Spring signaled the arrival of bountiful azaleas, fragrant honeysuckle, and delicate dogwood blooms. Unfortunately, allergies, migraines and a sinus infection came along too. I thought I had a cold I couldn’t get rid of, but when my eyes started burning and turning and staying red, I finally made a doctor’s appointment. Then my head hurt so bad I couldn’t even hold it up. I struggled through the night, then Derrick insisted that I not wait for my appointment and took
me to the clinic the next morning.

  “I never had a problem with allergies when I was a kid, and we stayed outside from sunup to sundown,” I told the doctor when given the diagnosis.

  “Didn’t you say you only recently moved to Eden? Your immunities have changed.”

  “I can live with smog and pollution, but I’m allergic to fresh grass and flowers,” I said as I shook my head.

  “I’m seeing more and more people with allergies, especially since they started drilling around here. Although, some researchers believe because we live in a cleaner world, our tolerance is lower. Also, you’ve been wearing your contacts too much. All of that has aggravated your condition. I’m going to prescribe some drops for your eyes, but you won’t be able to drive for ten days.” Carl agreed to drive me to work during my driving moratorium.

  “Carl, wait, go back,” I said as we approached the gate.

  “What did you forget this time?”

  “I just got a text from Portia. Her car won’t start. Do you mind looking at her car?”

  “I don’t have any jumper cables or tools with me. I don’t know how much I can do.”

  “She just needs a ride home. Her car can stay here overnight. She lives near Forrest City and sometimes we ride together.”

  “No problem, just know I charge by the hour,” Carl said.

  “Turn left, she’s in the back lot,” I said as he swiped my badge and drove through the gate.

  “Too bad I don’t have the truck,” Carl said. “Then I would have had my cables.”

  “But then we’d all be squished in the front seat. There she is,” I said and let the window down and waved. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  Carl looked at the petite, honey-colored lady and smiled. “I don’t mind at all.”

  CARL

  “That was a good practice,” Raymond said as he unlocked his office.

  “The boys will need it, playing Forrest City this week. I watched the film you gave me. They’re tough,” Carl said.

  “I’ll look at your notes tonight. Thanks for watching the film. I’ll look at it, but it’s always good to get another perspective.”

  “No problem. It’s not like I have other pressing commitments,” Carl said.

  “I know it hasn’t been easy for you. But I want you to know how proud I am of you. A lot of guys would have given up or returned to their old habits. You’ve been a big help to me and a good example for the boys.”

  “I’ve been so frustrated, I can’t even describe it. All I do is watch all the morning news shows, spend a couple hours at the library on the computer, then come home and watch more TV. So working out with the team has been good for me. But no matter how frustrated I get, I would never consider going back. I must have gone temporarily insane to get on that stuff in the first place. I can’t undo what happened, but I don’t have to repeat it.”

  This week had been another in Carl’s frustrating search for work. Mr. Jones had promised him he could work at the car wash, but not until the week before Easter. During the winter, only the automatic services were available. In the spring, he added vacuuming and hand waxes. The pay was abysmal, but it would be better than nothing, barely. And, he paid in cash, so his check wouldn’t be garnished. That would hold him a few months until his parole was over. Then he was leaving. He hadn’t told anyone, but he had found a job, just not in Dwight County. North Dakota was booming, and he had gotten three call backs for jobs he had applied for. They knew about his record and were willing to pay his relocation expenses. His father and siblings all had their own lives, and he needed to go get one. They were begging for plumbers up there, and he could be an apprentice for a few months, then take the test to get his license. He would have had to start all over to renew his license in Illinois. He even thought about starting his own company once he got there. He hated the idea of being so far away from his boys, but he wasn’t doing them any good in this situation. “It’s hot in here. Can you plug in your fan?”

  “I know I sound like Mama, but if we sit under this fan, then go outside, we’ll both have pneumonia,” Raymond said.

  “Can you believe we used to practice then go play ball for hours? I’m worn out,” Carl said as he took his phone out of his gym bag. “I missed a call from Daddy.”

  “Call him back and make sure everything is okay,” Raymond said. “He never calls anyone.”

  “He left me a message. Mr. Franklin called about a job with his contracting company. He wants to set up an interview.”

  “That’s great. They’re one of the few local companies that’s hiring. If he called, you must have a good shot at a job, although I’m going to be selfish and say I hope your hours don’t conflict with practice.”

  “Mr. Washington—”

  “Tevin, didn’t you see my door closed? You know you’re supposed to knock—”

  “But there’s a fight in the bathroom! And Mario is bleeding.”

  Raymond and Carl rushed and followed Tevin to the boy’s bathroom. When they entered the restroom, there was a crowd of boys yelling, cursing, and pushing.

  “What’s going on here?” Raymond asked making his way to the center of the crowd, where he spotted a boy on the floor in a pool of blood. “Damn,” he shouted, “Who has a cell phone? Call 911. Everyone get back, right now,” he said, as he pushed the boy in the chest that was kicking the boy on the floor. As the boy stumbled backward, an older boy grabbed Raymond from behind. Raymond flung around and punched him in the stomach. Carl had been trying to break up three other boys when he spotted the older boy reaching in his pocket. Carl rushed toward him, knocked the gun out of his hand and backhanded him so hard, he fell on his butt. He got up and charged head first toward Carl, just as the sheriff walked in.

  “All of you line up against the wall,” he said as he talked on his radio. “I need an ambulance right away.”

  The rest of the day was a blur filled with paramedics, an emergency room wait that lasted hours, and mountains of paperwork. Raymond had to complete incident reports for the police, expulsion papers for the boys, an incident form for the union that was tracking all instances of violence against teachers in their effort to demand better security in the schools, and other forms for the school board to protect them from lawsuits. His hand was bandaged, so Carl filled in the papers and Raymond signed them. Geneva came and double-checked everything the doctors and nurses did and made them re-do things to her satisfaction. After three hours, Raymond was free to go, but they stayed until they knew Mario was going to be all right. His mother and grandmother were understandably upset and vacillated between tears and rage. They found out the boy with the gun wasn’t even a student at the high school. There was some kind of rivalry going on that no one could satisfactorily explain. It was a good thing the boy was locked up because Mario’s brothers were ready to get him. Raymond and Carl tried to talk them down, explaining that revenge wasn’t going to get them anything but time in jail. C.W. and Emma came and sat with them. Finally, they got the word that Mario had pulled through surgery and was responding well. His mother and grandmother thanked Raymond and Carl, while the boy’s brothers were still bent on payback.

  “Did you ever find out what the fight was about?” C.W. asked as they walked to the parking lot.

  “I don’t think they even know themselves,” Raymond said as he winced in pain. “Just some wannabe gang members.”

  “We never had gangs and drugs here. It’s getting as bad as the big cities,” Emma said.

  “It’s them rappers and all that mess on TV,” C.W. said.

  “I’m just glad it wasn’t any worse. The principal told me they found another gun, a bag of weed, and some pills on the floor,” Raymond said.

  “You want to ride home with us?” C.W. asked. “We’re going to Walmart, but we can take you home first.”

  “I can drive,” Carl said as he searched for his keys. “I’m going to the house and watch some ball. I think the Lakers are playing tonight. Wait – I completely fo
rgot about your message from Mr. Franklin. I was supposed to call him.”

  “If you tell him what happened, he’ll understand. Just call him in the morning,” C.W. said.

  Who would think I would do four years in Cummins without a fight and come home to fight some kids? Carl thought as he pulled out of the parking lot. He thought about his boys and as soon as he pulled in the driveway, he pulled out his phone and called them. To his surprise, they were both in a talkative mood. Terrell bragged about his report card and Carlton warned him about the failing grade he had in History and his ‘F’ in conduct in Homeroom. “I turned in a paper late and then I was out a few days with a bad cold and missed a test. The teacher let me make it up, but I didn’t understand what she had covered, so I did bad on it. I don’t know why we have to learn that stuff anyway. Who cares about what happened in England thousands of years ago?”

  “I know it seems irrelevant, but it’s how the system is set up,” Carl said, as he lit a cigarette. “You’re a smart kid, you can catch up. I’ll call and quiz you every night this report card period. Now tell me about the conduct grade.”

  “That was bogus too. The teacher said I kept breaking the uniform rules – just because I didn’t have a belt. Isn’t that crazy?”

  “Son, don’t you have a belt?”

  “Yeah, I just forgot it a few days and if I had gone back to get it, I would have been tardy, and I’m at the limit for tardies. Any more and I’ll be suspended.”

  “Then put it in your backpack when you take it off. That way you’ll always have it. The teacher doesn’t want to have to remind you every day. She has other things to do.”

  “I should have known you would take their side. I don’t see why they have to tell us what to wear. Here’s Terrell. You can talk back to him.”

  “Wait, don’t go,” Carl said. “I’m on your side. But if you don’t get an education, you could end up locked up, and they’ll tell you what to wear, when to eat, when to go to bed---”

  “Not wearing a belt doesn’t mean I’m going to end up in jail. Just because you messed up, doesn’t mean I will.”