by Ina Williams
Soon after the honeymoon his depression surfaced and Andy became convinced that Elijah and Rae were driving a wedge between him and their mother.
One night after attempting to drink himself numb, he returned home with fire in his eyes and lunged at Rae, who was not quite two years old. Elijah, merely seven at the time, dodged in front of her only to be thrown into a mirror on the wall. His mother ran in from the kitchen, tears in her eyes, ice in her heart, and fire in each word. She calmly threatened Andy’s life if he ever came near her or her children again, but her threats weren’t necessary. Elijah saw in Andy’s eyes how ashamed he was of himself. How afraid he was of what he had become. He had made their home his battlefield and his family the enemy.
In fact, that look was the last thing Elijah ever saw of Andy. Twelve stitches and two days later, Elijah and his family returned home to find all of Andy’s things gone. He had left a shoe box full of money and a letter for his mother. She read it once, burned it, then sat on the side of the bed and stared at the half empty closet. It was the first of many nights that she cried herself to sleep.
From this darkness Elijah naturally assumed he was now the man of the house. He proudly helped his mother by cleaning and cooking when she worked the late shift and, when he was old enough, earning his keep working odd jobs—until the summer he met Jim Hargro.
Elijah had been at the park fixing his sister’s bike while she played on the swings behind him. He didn’t even notice Jim watching his handy work.
“You’re pretty good at that.”
“Yes sir. I’ve had a lot of practice.”
Elijah pulled at the chain to get it back on track. He looked up to see Jim smile. He was holding a smoking pipe in one hand and resting the other on his knee. Elijah didn’t know why but Jim’s smile made him feel welcome, like he had known him all his life.
“Bike break down a lot, does it?”
“Yes sir, at least twice a week.”
“I see.”
Jim lifted the pipe to his lips and placed the thin end between his teeth. He seemed to be thinking about something. Elijah’s mother did that same thing with a pencil when she was trying to figure something out.
“How old are you son?”
“Fourteen sir, I’ll be fifteen next month.”
“Will you now? You got a job?” Jim asked, pulling a book of matches from his pants pocket and striking one to light his pipe.
“Yes sir. I deliver papers in the morning and I bag groceries over at Thompson’s market every day but Sunday.”
Jim’s eyes widened and he pulled the pipe from his mouth. “You do all that and go to school too?”
“Yes sir. Don’t think I’m very good at it, but I go,” Elijah stated honestly, no smile or shame, just openness. Jim couldn’t help but laugh to himself.
“Well how’d you feel about coming to work for me?” Elijah stood the bike up and wiped the sweat from the back of his neck.
“Well sir, what would I do?” Elijah asked taking a break from the bike to give Jim his undivided attention.
“Pretty much what you’re doing there.” He pointed to the bike with his pipe.
“You want me to fix bicycles?”
Jim laughed out loud at Elijah’s face, an innocent mixture of confusion and disappointment.
“No, I’m gonna teach you to build.”
Jim had seen Elijah around town before. He was always polite, never idle, and almost always taking care of his mother or sister. Jim knew that Elijah would work hard, but that wasn’t the reason he wanted to give him the job. It was something about the boy’s work. He hadn’t just fixed his sister’s bike, he had found ways to improve it. Sure the parts were busted but Elijah had taken great care to make sure the bike, broken or not, belonged to his sister. The frame and handlebars had been painted bright pink, purple tassels were glued to both handles, and there had to be pieces from at least three different older bikes all to hold this one together. This wasn’t just repair work, it was craftsmanship, or at least the beginning of it. This boy had potential and Jim had a hunch that it didn’t end with building things.
“You mean like houses?” Elijah asked glancing over his shoulder to make sure Rae was still on the swings. She had found a new friend and was now pushing her.
“We’ll work our way up to that. What say we start with the basics? You know how to fix a table?”
“Yes sir.” Elijah didn’t know why but his heart was beating a little bit faster than usual.
“Good. I mean, that is if you want the job.”
“Oh, yes sir I do!” The confirmation had come out much louder than he intended.
“Good, I guess you’ll need your mama’s permission.”
Elijah hated the way the statement made him feel, but he knew it was valid. He stared at the ground and gingerly nodded.
“Well bring her by the shop tomorrow and if she says yes we’ll get started.”
“Yes sir!”
“The shop is right around that corner there,” Jim pointed up the street and made a quick motion to the left with his hand. “It’s called Willie’s. Just come on in and ask for Jim.”
Elijah shook his head so hard it almost fell off his shoulders.
He was bursting at the seams when he told his mother about the job offer. Elijah never got riled up about anything, but he was making up for lost time with this. She could hardly say no to something that turned her man-child back into the boy she longed for him to be at only fourteen. She and Rae were all smiles when Elijah dragged them by their hands to the shop the next day.
Elijah didn’t even have to ask for Jim, he was standing at the counter finishing up with a customer when they walked in. “That’s him ma! That’s Mr. Jim. He offered me the job.”
His mother’s eyes widened and she stopped, mouth half open before she said anything. “He… offered you a job here?” She tried to point discreetly, but the action by nature is never discreet.
“Yes ma’am, that’s him. Can we go talk to him now?” He started to move hastily toward the counter but was halted by his mother’s hand around his arm. She pulled him back.
“Elijah, I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”
“What?” His voice began to tremble with emotion, he could feel his dream slipping away. “But why not? I promise I won’t fall behind in school. I’ll even quit the job at the market if I have to.”
She shook her head and paused. She was trying to find the right words. “Son, he’s black.”
Elijah did not understand. His mother spent his entire life making sure he understood that people are people, no matter what they looked like. She and Andy had friends from all over the world it seemed, so many different colors and accents that he couldn’t keep track, but now all of a sudden she was refusing him his dream because Jim was black? Didn’t it matter that he was a good person, that he had taken interest in Elijah, or did everything she ever taught him mean nothing to her now?
She must have seen it in his face because she gently placed her hand on his chest the way she did to calm him when he was upset.
“I’m not saying no,” she said, smiling gently.
She stood and looked behind her out of the window at the group of shops across the street, then back at the counter. She said it almost to herself, “It’s just that not everybody learned what I taught you and your sister.”
There was something grave in her face when she said it, Elijah couldn’t discern exactly what it meant at fourteen, but whatever it was, it scared him.
CHAPTER 3
An Understanding
By the summer of his sixteenth year Elijah had become widely known as the town’s young carpentry prodigy. Everyone knew that if you wanted your antique furniture not only fixed, but cared for, you took it to Willie’s and asked for Elijah. Jim had even begun to teach him how to design and build his own pi
eces. Elijah chose to focus on these things, the quality of his work and the public’s general excitement, and ignore the things that made him uneasy. Things like men who seemed to think it was still ok to call Mr. Jim “boy” or the women who clutched their purses tighter when Percey, Jim’s son, would approach them to ask if they needed some help. He had also learned to ignore the men wearing the confederate flag like their favorite sports paraphernalia who had begun to pull him to the side and whisper, with bourbon on their breath, that he should “go into business for himself.” He didn’t fully understand what all of this meant, but he was starting to.
The liquor store across the square once belonged to Frederick O’Donnell but since Frederick’s death earlier that year his son Tolson had taken over. Infamous for drinking as much as he sold, Tolson stumbled into Willie’s one night, mean and drunk. The culprit of his inebriation, a bottle of Southern Comfort with less than half the contents left, was swinging in one hand.
“Where’s that nigger lover at?”
Elijah had heard the word before, you can’t live in a small town in Georgia and not have heard it, but it was the way Tolson said it that made Elijah shiver. The word was so full of hatred and anger, as if Jim or Percey had done something to him personally.
Tolson looked like a rabid dog and Elijah shrunk back as he approached the counter. The moment felt all too familiar, he looked at Tolson but all he could see was his stepfather. When Tolson began to swing at Elijah, he couldn’t hit him back for fear that he might accidentally destroy the man Tolson instead of the demon that possessed him—the same one he assumed had possessed Andy.
Percey came in from the workshop and rushed to grab Tolson’s arm. More offended than hurt, Tolson flipped the bottle of Southern Comfort and crushed it over Percey’s arm. Glass, blood, and liquor flew across the counter.
“Don’t you ever touch me boy, you crazy?” Tolson spat angrily.
Percey moaned in pain but his jaw was clenched in anger. Elijah could see him making a fist full of vengeance ripe for Tolson’s left eye. Veins were bulging, giant tears welled in Percey’s eyes, but he never hit him. Tolson must have seen his eyes too. Breathless as he was, the angry mutt in his eyes was now a cowering pup. He saw exactly what Percey could have done to him, and he wouldn’t have needed a bottle of So Co to do it either. The thought seemed to rattle him and he stumbled backwards into one of the shelves. He and the shelf toppled over together.
“What’s going on out here?” Jim said hurrying out from the office. “Percey!”
Percey finally looked away from Tolson and the rage in his eyes dissipated leaving a hollow expression. He looked exhausted and the color was leaving his face.
Jim grabbed a rag from under the counter and rushed to Percey’s side. Two men who worked for Tolson had apparently heard or seen the commotion and they burst in the store to gather Tolson. They saw Percey’s arm, Jim’s worried face, and Tolson still rambling belligerently while struggling to stand; it didn’t take long to figure out what happened. They gave half-hearted apologies and ushered Tolson out of the store.
Jim heard nothing, his attention was focused on Percey. There was still a large piece of glass sticking out of his wrist and Jim gingerly wrapped the cloth around the shard. Panicked, Percey reached to grab it and before Jim could stop him he had yanked the jagged chunk of glass free causing a rush of blood.
Jim shouted to Elijah, “Go get the keys off my desk!”
The truck never seemed to make it past forty-five miles an hour when Elijah made deliveries but today, as if it knew what they were up against, the truck seemed to fly. Percey was losing blood quickly and was in and out of consciousness. Jim swerved into the parking lot of the hospital while Elijah shouted for Percey to stay awake. Percey had managed to give small signs of consciousness throughout the ride, like he was trying to make his way back from a nightmare but this time, there was nothing.
The truck was barely in park before Jim threw open the door and ran inside to flag someone down. A moment later two nurses and a doctor made their way outside with a gurney, they lifted Percey out of the truck and rushed him inside. Jim was right alongside his son, holding his hand and Elijah was left behind in the truck which was still parked just in front of the entrance. He slid into the driver’s seat and shifted the gear from park to drive. He looked down at his hand before he put it back on the steering wheel, it was covered in blood and shaking. He wiped it on his jeans, which weren’t any cleaner than his hands, then placed it back on the wheel. Elijah steadied himself with a deep breath then carefully made his way to a parking space.
While he was in the truck he had convinced himself that he wanted to move slowly because he was being careful, but when he walked into the waiting room and saw Jim pacing, he knew that he had only been putting off the weight of reality. Everything had been so loud, and moved so fast that the last few hours felt like a blur. How could he be sure this was real? It felt too cruel to be true. Elijah hoped that if he could move slowly enough time would somehow mend all the damage that had been done and Percey would emerge from behind the emergency room doors to tell them that he was fine and that they could all go home. But Jim pacing meant no such healing had occurred and they were cursed to keep waiting in this very real uncertainty.
Jim’s cell phone was in his hand, and he looked so nervous that Elijah couldn’t tell if he had just hung up with someone or was working up the courage to call them.
“Where were you? I came back out and couldn’t find you,” Jim scolded. Elijah recognized the tone from his mother it meant “Don’t you know I’m too worried to worry about you too?”
“I had to move the truck,” Elijah said gently his hand raised wearily to point behind him at the door. Jim’s face softened a bit as he reached out his hand and pulled Elijah into his side.
“My wife’s on her way, you better call your mother,” Jim held out the phone for him to take.
They made their way towards two empty chairs but before they could sit the doctor returned from behind the double doors.
She made her way over to them slowly, her scrubs still stained with Percey’s blood.
“I’m sorry. We did everything we could.”
Elijah had never heard a quiet this thick. The waiting room was full of people, but he couldn’t hear them anymore. Jim stood frozen and Elijah waited to see what shape his grief would take.
“I want to see him,” he said firmly.
The doctor opened her mouth to say something but before she could speak Jim exploded.
“I want to see my son, now!”
She pointed the way, inviting him to follow her. Elijah followed, too scared to stand still but not fully aware of the fact that he was moving. Jim pushed his way through the first set of double doors and then the second. Instinctively, Elijah stopped at the second set of doors and peeked through the round window. He could see Jim enter the room where Percey lay on the table. Jim lifted his teenager onto his lap as if he were a six-year-old boy again, and he wept. Elijah stood watching from the hallway. Even through the doors he could hear Jim wailing—he had never heard a sound like that. He felt now he was the one having the nightmare, now it was he who was swaying, hoping to wake up.
The funeral was a week later. The church was so crowded that several people left to meet the family at the cemetery or the house later that evening. Jim’s wife, Eloise, cried the whole day and Elijah had never known that there were so many ways to cry. She sobbed and screamed and sat silently while rivers ran down her cheeks. When they reached the house later that day Elijah wondered how there could be anything left as she whimpered softly on his mother’s shoulder.
Jim was stoic but Elijah knew that his heart still wept for his son. He had heard the wailing clearly that night at the hospital. Elijah knew that cry hadn’t ceased, Jim had simply found a way to trap it inside. He watched as Jim silently drifted to the porch, then summoned the stren
gth to join him. They stood in silence for a long time.
“I’m sorry Mr. Jim, sir,” he didn’t mean for the tears to start.
“For what? You did everything you could.”
“No, I didn’t!” he didn’t mean to yell either, but he had never known this much sorrow or remorse. He was not sure how to control it. “I just stood there and let Tolson…” his voice trailed off and Jim grabbed him by his shoulders.
“Elijah, you listen to me. Tolson came in there ready for a fight and if you had tried to get in the middle we would have had two dead sons in this town instead of one.”
This only made the tears flow faster and harder.
“I just don’t understand why he was so angry. Percey never did anything to hurt Tolson, or anybody.”
Jim was still holding his arms. “Naw, I don’t suppose you would.” Jim released him and turned back towards the night sky.
“Mr. Jim?” There was only permissive silence.
“I’m sorry about my mother too.” Elijah didn’t know why he felt compelled to confess what his mother had said on that first day, but he did.
Jim looked into the house through the window. Elijah’s mother was preparing a plate for Eloise as Rae wrapped her small arms around her shoulders as far as they would reach. Jim looked back at Elijah then up at the night sky again. He was quiet for a long while and Elijah began to regret telling him. He hadn’t meant to put a wedge between Mr. Jim and his mother.
“She didn’t mean nothin’ by it Mr. Jim, she was just scared,” he assured Jim trying to backtrack.
“She wasn’t scared for you son.”
With six words the world changed, and understanding came like a wave in a stormy sea.