The Banks Sisters

by Nikki Turner

  -8-

  “Oh, Lord Jesus,” Me-Ma screamed, “say it ain’t so.” Me-Ma sat at the kitchen table stunned. “This can’t be right,” she said, while reading the newspaper as she always did every single morning.

  “What is it, Me-Ma?” Tallhya asked as she came running into the kitchen.

  “Now, baby,” she looked up. Giving Tallhya one eye and The Richmond Times Dispatch her other. “Walter don’t have no kids do he, baby?”

  “No,” Tallhya said. “But in about two years we are planning on to have one.

  “You sure about that?” Me-Ma asked, with a raised eyebrow.

  “Yes.”

  “Why you ask Me-Ma? And you got that look on your face, like something smells fishy.”

  Me-Ma didn’t respond, instead she started reading, from the newspaper aloud.

  Waltima Joy Ways-Walker, graced the Earth for only 90 short days before, she died in her parents’ arm at The Memorial Regional Hospital, in Richmond, VA on September 16, 2014. After struggling with inoperable congenital heart disease, she passed gently into the arms of Jesus.

  Waltima is the daughter of Walter Walker and Pamela Ways of College Place. She was the answer to their prayers, and they waited for her birth with joyful expectation of their first baby girl. During her brief visit on earth, she enjoyed listening to music, cuddling with soft toys, and being held close by her parents and grandparents. She was loved by all who met her and will be greatly missed. Her presence on Earth will be missed.

  A Memorial Service will be held Saturday, September 20, 2014 at 1:00 p.m. at Mimms Funeral Home, with a reception following at the Military Retirees Hall. Memorial contributions may be left at the Metropolitan Savings and Loan National Bank on behalf of: Memorial Fund of Waltima Joy Walker-Ways.

  Waltima is survived by her loving parents Walter Walker and Pamela Ways of 1742 College Road, Henrico, VA and a host of other family and friends.

  Tallhya was silent for a long minute. Then she said, “Read it again, please,” and Me-Ma did.

  “It has got to be another, Walter Walker. This person can’t be him, Walter Walker is such a common name,” was her only explanation. “I mean surely if he had a child, he would’ve told me.”

  “You think so?”

  “For sure, Me-Ma! I’m sure we would’ve been so deeply involved in that child’s life. I know this isn’t him,” she confidently said.

  “I would like to believe that but I don’t put nothing pass these men folks,” Me-Ma said. “They will have a double life and not think nothing of it. They will act like it’s no big deal. Trust me that’s what Joe did to me.”

  “That was Grandpa, but that’s not Walter!”

  “That’s what I thought. But that no-good-butt Joe, was a good husband to me and a greater father to your mother, but still tipped off with the woman,” she shook her head and continued, “with the woman down the street. Them son’s of witches don’t have no self control when it come to their Peters.” Me-Ma rolled her eyes and this whole thing was bringing back flashbacks of what happened with her husband. “Lord up and heaven, Jesus fix this. Just say it ain’t so. I swear I don’t want this for you. I want it to be a perfect explanation for this.”

  “Let me just call and get to the bottom of this.”

  Me-Ma took her reading glasses off.

  “What can make my soul whole,” she sung, because in the pit of her stomach, she knew that shit was about to hit the fan, “nothing but the blood of Jesus.”

  Tallhya reached for her phone and dialed, Walter’s number.

  “Oh, Precious . . . is the flow. That can make me white as snow,” Me-Ma sung. “No other fount I know… nothing, but the blood of Jeeeesus!”

  “Hey,” he answered in a voice over a whisper. No, hey you. No, hey baby. No, hey boo. No, hey beautiful. Just simple, hey . . . and before she could address him, he quickly shut her down, “I’m in this place handling some important arrangements. I will call you back in a few,” before she could agree to anything, she heard the dial tone.

  No, baby, are you all right? No, nothing. Tears came to her eyes.

  “What happened, baby?” Me-Ma asked.

  “Nothing,” she took a deep breath. “He just said, he was about to make some arrangements, and he was going to call me back.”

  “I pray that there has to be a perfectly good explanation,” Me-Ma said, shaking her head.

  Tallhya was at a lost for words. She knew that there had to be a logical explanation, but then the, what ifs started to run through her mind. What if it was true?

  Just when the tears started to form in her eyes, that’s when she heard the door open and a loud voice call out. “Tallhya . . .Tallllhya. Tallllhhhh . . .”

  It was Bunny. She took in another deep breath, and she got herself together before answering her sister, “Yesssss. I’m in the kitchen.”

  “Chile, do you have to be so loud.”

  An energetic Bunny walked into the kitchen and gave Me-Ma a kiss on the cheek. “You look pretty as always Me-Ma.”

  “Thank you baby, and where you going looking like you about to work on Second Street?” she questioned, Bunny’s thigh high tall Tom Ford boots.

  “Me-Ma these boots the style.” It was the same answer she always gave to her grandmother. Me-Ma never approved of anything that Bunny wore.

  “Says who?” Me-Ma asked.

  Bunny didn’t take her grandmother’s comments to heart, it was her normal for her to disapprove of the way she dressed. “All the fashion magazines, Me-Ma,” she said with an easy smile.

  “Well, they going to hell and you need to stop looking at those books getting ideas how you should dress. Didn’t I teach all you girls to be individuals and be yourself. You don’t have to follow the trends, baby.”

  “I know. I know, Me-Ma. I just look at them to give me some ideas.”

  “Lord have Mercy on you and those people,” Me-Ma summed it all up.

  “Well, I stopped by because we got a family crisis.”

  “You right about that.” Me-Ma had to agree with Bunny and said, “My Lord, up in Heaven sure be on time.”

  “Me-Ma what you talking about?” Bunny put her hand on her hip waiting for the dig her grandmother was about to say.

  “Bunny, Lord knows I’m glad to see you, and I know Tallhya is, too.” She threw her hands up, “You know God navigated that hundred-thousand-dollar big car over here because He knew that your sister needed you.”

  “I know,” she agreed. “That’s why I came over here, because I wanted to give Tallhya this money,” she went into her Louie bag, and pulled out a stack of cash wrapped in a rubber band, “to give to Simone. She’s going to need it, but you know she’s not going to take it from me.”

  “I’m not talking about that sister . . . I’m talking about this sister.”

  Bunny eyes shifted to Tallhya and asked, “T, what’s going on?”

  “Nothing . . .”

  “Hog-mogg and bull crap! You a lie,” Me-Ma put her two cents in it, and looked in the refrigerator and got a bottle of water out and handed it to her. “Chile, if I wasn’t a saved a woman, I would tell you go ahead and pull that bottle of liquor out of your purse, because your sister need a drink.”

  “Me-Ma what you talking about?” Bunny asked trying to conceal her grin.

  “Chile, you know I know everything. I don’t miss anything. But right now, you need to carry your sister up there to that Mimms Funeral Home and get to the bottom of this bull crap that’s going on.”

  “Mimms? Who died?”

  “I don’t need to go up there,” Tallhya said.

  “And yes the heck you do,” Me-Ma said as firm as she knew how.

  “Can somebody tell me who died?” Bunny asked again wanting to know what’s going on.

  “Your brother-in-law baby died.”

  “Huh?” Bunny turned up her face, confused.

  “Walter got a baby, I saw it in the obituaries and it said devoted father.”

 
; “Oh hell, naw!”

  “Watch yo’ mouth,” Me-Ma pointed to Bunny and then filled her in, “this chile don’t believe do-do stink, even when it’s in the middle of the floor.”

  “Girl, get your shoes, let’s go up there and get down to the bottom of it.”

  “No, I’m going to wait until, he get here. I know it’s a perfectly good explanation, right?”

  “Get your shoes now, and I’m not going to tell you no more,” Bunny demanded. “If it’s nothing to it, then it’s nothing, but we going to see what’s up,” Bunny walked out of the kitchen.

  “Baby, I know sometimes the truth hurts. Now we hope Walter would not have had a baby and didn’t share that bundle of joy with us, but at the same time, if he did. You need to know.”

  “You are right Me-Ma. I do need to know. And even so, I need to pay my respects. Because any part of him, is a part of me.”

  Me-Ma thought how big of Tallhya that was, “You right, baby.”

  Tallhya got up and went and got her shoes and jacket.

  Just then Bunny returned with a small Gucci overnight bag from the trunk of her car. She went into the bathroom and returned quickly transformed. She was wearing a Pink sweat suit and some Air Jordans to match. She put her Indique straight long hair into a tight neat ponytail and went into the front room. “Come on, I’m ready.”

  “We not going to start no trouble.”

  “No, we are going to get to the bottom of it.”

  “Then why you had to change?”

  “Because I stay ready so I don’t have to get ready. And no we not going to start nothing, but make no mistake about it, if a ho get out of pocket. I’m going to handle it.”

  “Come on Bunny, we not going for that,” Tallhya said knowing how her sister, will fight at the drop of a dime.

  “Look Bunny, give him time to explain, let Tallhya deal with it, don’t you go over there turning up. You hear me?”

  “I’m not,” Bunny said as innocent as she knew how. “We are good as long as they don’t cause no static . . . it won’t be none if they don’t start none.”

  “Chile, Lord Mercy,” Me-Ma said as she was reaching for the phone.

  “Who are you calling?” Tallhya asked.

  “Your brother, you need to carry him over there with y’all, too.” Even though the sisters had all accepted Ginger’s lifestyle, Me-Ma refused to acknowledge it and after all these years, still referred to Ginger as a boy. She loved him no matter what, but she prayed every day that God would “fix” her grandson.

  “Me-Ma, please, don’t call Ginger, I don’t want her in my business.”

  “Chile please,” Me-Ma looked Tallhya in the face. “If this man, has lied to us, it’s all of our business.”

  “No, we good. I got it handled. Remember we not going over there to start no commotion.” Then as Tallhya walked out the door to head for the car. Bunny double backed to the kitchen and handed Me-Ma a stack of money. “In case you gotta bail us out,” she said. Then burst out into laughter, even though she was dead serious, and headed out the door.

  Another ring, Ginger answered.

  “Hello, Gene. Meet yo’ sisters over at the Mimms Funeral Home. It’s a little situation that they are going to get to the bottom of. And baby”—she paused—“don’t wear none of them stilettos over there neither. If you catch my drift.”

  Me-Ma grabbed her Bible, and started to pray. Lord knows all parties involved was going to surely need it.

  -9-

  Lately, it’s been hard times. I’m talking about the financial side

  Since the Neon that Marjorie had swapped Simone’s Benz out for, didn’t have a MP-3 jack, or even a CD player, Simone was forced to listen to Anthony Hamilton lament about his imaginary money problems on the car’s radio.

  It’s ruff out there, son

  And they say when it rains it pours, (rain, rain)

  Raining at my door . . .

  Simone liked Anthony Hamilton and all, God knows the brother could blow the soul back into a corpse, but the song was killing her vibe, which was already on life support as it was. She turned the volume down on the radio then switched lanes, getting off Interstate 64 at the next exit.

  She pulled into the parking lot of a place she knew all too well. Beyond the parking lot was three shiny silver stainless steel warehouses. Each 50,000 square foot structure filled with cow shit. The company, S&S Topsoil, belonged to her father, Simon and his best friend Tommy.

  At the beginning of every summer, when Simone was growing up, Simon used to bring her to work with him every day, for the two weeks at the beginning of the summer before camp started and at the end of the summer when it had ended.

  Simone hated it with a passion, but her father loved their time together. There was nothing Simon loved more than his only daughter and his company. Not even his wife, Marjorie, but he wouldn’t ever admit that to her. Although their summers at S&T Top Soil, ended years ago, Simone still used to drop by, from time to time, and bring her father lunch. But this was the first time she’d stepped foot at the grounds since he died six months ago.

  It felt strange . . . really strange.

  As she made her way to the main building, she remembered something that her father use to always say to her, “Inhale,” he would say to her, and when she acted like she did, he would say, “deeper than that. You have to really inhale.” And then he would say, “You smell that?”

  “What does it smell like?”

  Simone always responded the same way, “It smells like do-do.”

  Then Simon would always say the same thing, with biggest smile, “Naw baby, that’s what it smells like when you are stinking rich.”

  It was something about that smile and the man had the prettiest set of white teeth. When she got to be older and understood politics. She’d joke with her father about how he’d, should’ve been a politician. Not only did he have a way with words, he could make anybody believe anything.

  Back then she had taken those moments with her father for granted. Now, memories were all she had of him. And she couldn’t get enough of them.

  Simone made a right off “memory lane,” and stepped into the main warehouse. The heels of her Giuseppe booties clicked clacked on the vinyl flooring as she made her way to small, but efficient office off to the right.

  The lady inside the office, looked up from her computer and greeted Simone with a Queen-sized smile, waving her inside of the cramped office. “Girl,” Beverly gushed, jumping up to hug Simone, “where have you been?”

  The last time they’d seen each other was during Simon’s funeral. Beverly stepped back and, with a pair of Never-Miss-A-Thing hazel eyes studied Simone from top to bottom. Then said, “What is it?”

  Most women were born with a sixth sense, but when it came to reading people, Beverly’s gift was Extra Terrestrial. “I’m fine,” Simone lied, spun around so that Beverly could take a 360-degree of her outfit. Some jeans and fitted sweater and her gold Giuseppe ankle boots, “Don’t I look it?”

  Although she was like family, Simone didn’t want to burden Beverly with her personal problems. But Beverly wasn’t fooled. “You look like you could model in Vogue Magazine. You are damn sure prettier than all those makeup wearing skeletons in designer clothes, and ten times smarter,” she said, changing the subject. If Simone wanted to confide in her about anything, she would do so when she was ready.

  And Beverly wasn’t just being nice, with her compliments. Simone was fine by anybody’s standards.

  “I just hope my skin looks as good as yours does when I’m your age, girl.”

  Bev rolled her eyes, like she was offended by the remark. “I know you didn’t just call me old to my face?” At forty-nine, Beverly could still pass for a young thirty something. Simone said, “You are only as old as you feel.”

  “Then I feel like your slightly older sister.”

  A smiling Simone said, “Cool, I’ve always wanted an older sister.”

  “Slightly older,”
corrected Beverly.

  “That’s what I meant,” Simone smiled at Beverly. Talking to her always warmed her heart, and she knew the woman was genuine, too.

  After breezing through a couple perquisite chit chatting, Simone asked if Tommy was in the building. “I need to speak to with him if he’s not too busy.”

  The inquiry took Beverly by surprise. She’d worked for the company for a long time. Simone’s father had hired her, personally, two weeks after she had graduated from Reynolds Community College, twenty-two years ago. So, she felt qualified when she said, “Tommy’s a damn fool.” She looked off into space and then lightly shook her head before speaking. “As good of a man as your father was—may he rest in peace—but for the life of me, I could not figure out why he went into business with a scandral like Tommy. The man’s a pompous pig, with the morals of a housefly.”

  Simone couldn’t help, but to burst out laughing. Beverly had definitely hit the hammer on the nail, but it had totally caught her off guard.

  Beverly’s face twisted into a frown, like she’d just tasted something bitter or spoiled and needed to spit it out right away. “Yeah, he’s here,” she finally said.

  “Tell me how you really feel,” Simone teased. Although she knew Beverly as the kind always, spoke the gospel. Simone often wondered about the answer to the million-dollar question herself, what had her father seen in Tommy that no one else did?

  Using the wireless intercom system, Beverly informed Tommy that he had a visitor.

  Simone walked to the back of the warehouse, toward where the offices were located. Tommy’s was next to her father’s old office.

  Seeing the door, with her father’s name SIMON GUNN still stenciled on the outside, stirred up more memories for her. She tried to shove them away. It was hard, but she reminded herself that she needed to take care of what she’d come for before imploding to an emotional wreck.

  “What can I do for you, Princess?” Tommy was standing in the doorway of his office grinning. “Come on in,” he said.