by Jay Cannon
Back at the house, Louis was starting up his BMW 325 with Ron riding shotgun.
“Man, this is cool!” said Ron. “I’ve never been in a BMW before.”
“Well, you’re going to be in one all night tonight,” replied Louis. “And we are going to have some fun.”
“Sweet!”
“I’ll make a quick loop downtown so you can see the Renaissance Center and the other sites. I’ll describe the sites as we drive by. Then I’ll swing by to pick up some friends and we’ll go clubbing.”
“Okay. Don’t you have to be twenty-one to get into a club?”
“Yea, or pay an extra five dollars. Don’t even worry about it. Tonight you don’t have to fret about your age. Just focus on having some fun, cousin.”
Cheryl decided to stay at the house with her cousin Joyce and catch up on old times while the twins were in the basement, playing Halo on the Xbox.
“Remember dancing all night at the Argyle Club?” said Cheryl. “I used to love the music and the fly guys, Carl, Dennis, Dillard, Little Ben, who was really Big Ben, if you know what I mean.” She laughed out loud.
“Cheryl, you need to quit. I used to love the live music. The Twenty Grand was my joint. Dirty Helen’s wasn’t bad either. Live music and comedy,” said Joyce, enjoying the walk down memory lane.
“Remember when Elvis Presley played at Olympia Stadium? We charged five dollars for people to park in front of our house.”
“I remember annual pot day when smoking a joint was a five dollar fine. What happened to those days? It used to be sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll. Now it’s AIDS, crack, and gangster rap.”
“That’s why I got married and put that dating crap behind me. It was just too risky. Sometimes marriage and kids makes me want to pull my hair out, but I wouldn’t give that up for the world. Whatever happened to that Robert St. John guy you were dating?”
“We had a whirlwind romance, got married, and six months later I moved back here away from that crazy fucker, wondering what the hell I was thinking. I just can’t have a man telling me what I can and cannot do with my life.”
“I get that, girlfriend. But I need the security. I don’t make enough to live alone and there’s no way I could live with that crazy ole man of mine. I haven’t been back since he hit me with his cane and I pushed him into the glass coffee table, giving him thirty-two stitches up his arm. I was grown. He had no right to do that to me. And then mom made me apologize to that fool. I’m still mad about that one.”
“That’s why I made a pitcher of margaritas,” said Joyce, raising the pitcher with a smile. “Let me fill up your glass.”
“That’s why you’re my favorite cousin. Here’s to you, cuz.” Cheryl raised her glass to Joyce.
“So, tomorrow you’re going to see that crazy man on his so-called death bed?”
“Yeah, but I’m going to stop through State and checkout our girl Professor Aurles. Then we’re going to swing through Kalamazoo to catch our girl Rhonda doing her thing at Monaco Bay. Rhonda’s been jamming on the keyboard for over twenty years and is still going strong.”
“We used to go see her when she was playing in Lansing. Kalamazoo is just too far away for me.”
“I don’t blame you. That is a long drive. But I haven’t seen her in years and I just miss listening to her play.”
“Well, give her and Aurles a hug for me.”
“I will. And with that, I’m going to hit the sack. I need to be on the road right after breakfast. See you in the morning, Joyce.”
***
“I’ll be right back, Ron. I just need to get my girl Karen and we can hit a club.” Louis got out of the car and strolled up to a small brick house in the Highland Park section of Detroit. Moments later he returned with two women on his arms. They were both slender, about five foot seven inches, and wearing high heels and black dresses that came midway up their thighs. Louis opened the car’s passenger door to introduce the ladies to Ron.
“Ron, this is my lady Karen and her friend Jacks.”
“Hello, ladies,” replied Ron with a bashful smile.
“Hi, Ron,” they said in unison.
“Ron, could you sit in the back and keep Jacks company? I want to have Karen next to me.”
“You bet,” said Ron. He jumped into the back seat next to Jacks, who had taken the center spot.
“Let’s get this straight, young blood,” Jacks said to Ron. “I’ll be your date tonight. I may even let you get a bit flirtatious, but don’t get it twisted. I’m not your woman and the poonani is off limits. Got it?”
“Got it! Hell, just being next to you is beyond my wildest dreams.”
“Now that’s the way to flirt, kid.”
“So why do they call you Jacks, anyway?”
“When I was in junior high I spent every free moment playing jacks. I was so good and obsessed with the game that people called me Jacks. If you notice, I have a gold one around my neck.”
“Okay, you two,” yelled Louis, breaking in from the front seat, “don’t fall in love back there. We’ll be at the club in a few minutes. Hide your jewelry until we get inside. We don’t want to get jacked in the parking lot.”
Louis pulled up to the City Club and parked in the back of the building. They all piled out of his BMW and headed for the front door. They all paid the $10 entry fee and walked in, where Ron was detained by the bouncer.
“You got an ID, buddy?”
“Chester, what are you doing?” protested Jacks. “Do you think I would be hanging out with some kid?”
“Jacks, I’m just doing my job.”
“And you’re doing a great job. Now let my man go so we can get our drink on.”
“Sorry, man. You just look so young. Go on.”
“No problem. I get that all the time,” replied Ron, feeling relieved.
***
The next morning, Cheryl ignored the call for breakfast. Her head was pounding in a way she hadn’t experienced in years. She had enjoyed reliving the past with Joyce, but next time she was going to resist reliving the inebriated part of her past. She lay in bed another hour, nursing her headache and thinking about the fun time she had spent reminiscing with her cousin. Eventually a knock at the door stirred her from her daydreams.
“Cheryl, you alive in there?” asked Joyce. “If you don’t get up soon you’re going to miss your chance at that early start you wanted.”
“Okay, I’m on my way,” she responded reluctantly. She dragged herself to the door and cracked it open to see Joyce holding her head.
“Damn, girl,” said Joyce with a chuckle, “you look like I feel. The shower’s free if you want it.”
“You can laugh, ‘cause I know that once I leave, you are jumping right back in the bed,” Cheryl retorted. “I’ll take that shower. Tell the kids to be ready in thirty minutes. A bacon-toast sandwich to go would be great.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of both of those items for you,” said Joyce as she walked off.
A half-hour later, Cheryl joined her kids at the car. She hugged her aunt, uncle, and cousins and accepted a bacon sandwich and coffee mug from Joyce.
“Ron, put my bags in the back then take the wheel. Your mother doesn’t feel like driving this morning.”
Ron answered sluggishly. “Mom, I sort of got a hangover. Can I drive later?”
“What are you doing with a hangover? Louis! I’m going to kick your butt.” She turned to see Louis disappearing behind the screen door into the house.
“Cheryl, you better get a move on,” interjected Joyce. “You’ll be all day trying to catch Louis. Give everyone a hug for me on your journey across Michigan.”
“Will do, cousin. Ron, start the car. You should know better than to drink all night when you have things you need to do in the morning. And don’t look at me like that. I’m grown!”
Two hours later the family arrived in East Lansing and drove to the Arby’s on Grand River across from Michigan State. Cheryl wanted to relive her time
s as an undergrad when she stayed in Mary Mayo Hall. She loved those Arby’s roast beef sandwiches. Her sons weren’t as excited, but found something to enjoy. After lunch, Cheryl called her old friend Aurles and asked her to meet them at Michigan State’s dairy store where the ice cream was made from milk from cows on the university’s farm.
The kids bought ice cream cones and went outside to enjoy the view of campus. Cheryl got a small bowl of chocolate ice cream and sat on a bench with Aurles to catch up on recent events.
“So you’re some big time professor here at State.” Cheryl grinned with pride over Aurles’ recent promotion to dean.
“I wouldn’t call myself big time, but it is nice to have tenure at a big time university. Being here, I get a chance to see some of our old classmates. Evette comes through every summer. Glover and Mike Smith used to visit before they retired. I go to see Rhonda play in Kalamazoo on occasion. I really want to get to DC before I get too old to do the monument tour.”
“You are a long ways from being too old to walk around. Of course, some of us aren’t doing as well, judging from your update about the reunion.”
“Yeah, I went to the Heights High School reunion last year and it was sad how many of us had passed or are incarcerated. Several of the ones that are still around I could barely recognize because of all the weight they had gained. Those high school cool guys that used to dismiss our erudite behavior are still trying to be cool even though they are unemployed. Being broke is not cool,” Aurles said with a laugh.
“You are so right about that. Those people made my life hell. I hated high school, but I loved college. I could finally get away from those crazy high school kids and that mean ole man of mine, and live my own life. When I finally got my teaching job at Howard I thought I’d made it to heaven. When my twins came along my husband convinced me to become a stay at home mom. It might have been great for the kids, but it made me a little bitter.”
“You should be proud of the job you’ve done with the kids. They are simply amazing. There is no doubt that they will all go to college. You even had it in your heart to bring a foster kid into your home.”
“I believe it had more to do with my pocketbook than my heart. I got tired of asking my husband for money. My father was always harassing my mother about how she spent the money he gave her. I never wanted to become that person. Morgan helps me avoid that dilemma. The downside is it brought my father out in me. I’ve just been terrible to that boy. I feel bad about it sometimes, but most of the time my behavior feeds my bitterness.”
“There is no way you can compare yourself to your father. Your father is just evil. He would always call me ‘that fetchy-tailed gal’, like I wasn’t worthy of hanging out with you.”
“Well, he doesn’t like much of anybody, even me. My mother asked me to come and see him because he is supposedly dying. He’s got diabetes and won’t stop drinking. I’m doing everything I can to delay stepping into that house again. That’s why I’m going to see Rhonda before heading over there.”
“I don’t blame you. Seeing Rhonda is a lot more fun than seeing your father. It’s still pretty early for Rhonda. She is probably going to be asleep for a while. Why don’t you take your kids by the intramural building and let them play some sports for a while? I can get them passes. In the meantime, you could give a talk to my history class on the DC monuments.”
“That would be very cool. I would love to be in front of students again. Of course, if I let Morgan know he can play tennis with some college students I may not be able to drag him away when it’s time to go.”
***
The family left East Lansing around 4:30 and arrived at Rhonda’s house in Portage, just outside Kalamazoo, around 6:00. Cheryl rang the doorbell and was greeted by a huge hug from Rhonda.
“Everyone, I want you to meet one of my best friends growing up. Not only did we go to school together but we went to church, went skating, and partied every weekend together, too. Rhonda and her sister used to play the piano in our church on Sundays. I used to go by her house all the time and was amazed by all the gadgets her father had around their house. He used a little box that he held in his hand to open his garage door. You kids take that for granted, but to me it was pure magic. Okay, I’m babbling. Please give Rhonda a hug.”
Cheryl named them off as they gave her a hug, starting with Ron. “That is Ron, my oldest. Against my wishes that knucklehead went clubbing with my cousin Louis in Detroit last night. Maybe you can show him what a real night club act is like.”
“I’ll do what I can. They probably ain’t into pianos and pop music.”
“Don’t be so modest. You can make the keyboard sing AND dance. You’re the damn headliner at the club. I’ve been there. People love you. Before I forget, those are my twins Don and Lon. And the last one is Morgan, my foster son.”
Rhonda gave each one of them a hug and showed them into the house. “Have a seat, everyone. I’m going to get some clothes on and treat you to food at the coolest bar in Kalamazoo. My first set starts at eight. You can hear me sing and still make it to the Heights before sundown.”
“Don’t remind me of that place. I’m trying to keep happy thoughts in my head as long as I possibly can.”
Rhonda got dressed in a slinky red dress with sequins. She coordinated it with long red gloves and high-heeled shoes. On her head she wore a stylish feathered hat with a veil. Stepping into the living room where everyone was waiting, she announced, “I’m ready to go. Who wants to ride with me?”
All of the boys raised their hands except Morgan. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked. “Don’t you like my outfit?”
“I think you’re b-b-beautiful,” stammered Morgan, “but no one ever picks me.”
“Well, I’m picking you. Let’s go!”
She grabbed the astonished Morgan, plopped him into her El Dorado and headed toward Monaco Bay with an Anita Baker CD playing “Giving You the Best That I Got”.
Once they arrived at Monaco Bay, they all ordered hamburgers and fries. As promised, Rhonda started her show at 8:00. They were all surprised to hear the clientele join in singing with Rhonda on some of the songs. When she sang “Don’t Stop Believing”, she let Ron sit next to her on the piano bench to sing along with one of his favorite songs. After going out last night, the line about “South Detroit” resonated with him. He reminisced about Jacks actually letting him kiss her goodbye. That had made his hangover well worthwhile.
Rhonda finished her set and walked Cheryl and the family out to their SUV to start the last leg of their journey. They hugged Rhonda, thanked her for the music, and set off up Highway 131. In Grand Rapids, Cheryl gassed up the SUV and then headed west on I-96 to Muskegon Heights.
Cheryl’s family grew up on the eastside of Muskegon Heights in the projects, which were cinderblock townhomes. Hovey was the main street that went through the projects and her parents lived in the middle. The word “townhome” often conjures up the idea of luxury living, but there were no fireplaces, granite countertops, or stainless steel appliances in these townhomes. These were built for low-income families and those on welfare.
Cheryl’s father had worked at Campbell’s foundry until it closed. Then he worked construction until there were cutbacks. He ended his working life with the city parks department. At one time he had owned one of the newer homes in the Woodcliff housing development, but after losing his high-paying foundry job he was unable to make the mortgage payments. That’s when they moved to the projects. That fall down the social ladder had hurt Cheryl’s father’s pride immensely. He began to drink and took out his pain on his family, and his anger drove his kids away.
Cheryl pulled up to her old home and knocked on the door. Her mother answered and gave her a hug. She recognized everyone but Morgan. She paused and gave him a look.
“You must be Morgan. Come give me a hug, boy. I hope you don’t mind me being your grandmother for a while. Your grandfather can’t wait to see all of you.”
“I’m
sure he’ll be as pleased as punch to see me,” said Cheryl, her lips dripping with sarcasm. “You kids have a seat in the living room while I have a talk with my mother in the kitchen.”
“Cheryl, I don’t want you coming to my house with this negativity. You and your father need to end your differences. He won’t be around much longer. I don’t want his life to end with you two hating each other. Your brother let the hate eat him up to the point that he doesn’t come around anymore.”
“It wasn’t the hate. It was father’s meanness that drove him away.”
“Stop it! When was the last time you saw your brother, anyway?”
“I haven’t heard from him in years. He dropped me a line about five years ago from Denver and I haven’t heard from him since. I just wish I had the courage to disappear. I feel bad for abandoning him. Once I left, there was no one to protect him from father. You always took his side against us.”
“Enough, Cheryl! Let’s leave the past in the past. The man is dying and I want him to see his grandkids before he passes on. Can we have just one day of family togetherness?”
“Sure, mother. Kids, let’s go see your grandfather. He’s not feeling well, so try not to act up. Morgan why don’t you wait down here. We shouldn’t be long.”
They climbed the stairs to Cheryl’s father’s room. He lay in a bed near the window so he could watch the people in the neighborhood walk up and down the sidewalk. He was covered in a quilted blanket his grandmother made. He had an IV in his arm to keep him hydrated and medicated. He rubbed at the tape holding the needle when his grandsons crowded into the room.
“Hi, grandpa,” said Ron.