Just Wanna Testify

by Pearl Cleage

  “I see,” Blue said. “Then what is the problem?”

  Jerome’s nerves failed him and he looked over at Jackson.

  “There have been some issues,” Jackson said. “Some communication problems, you might say.”

  Blue frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “You know how it is with women,” Lance said, and was immediately sorry when he saw Blue’s expression. “I mean sometimes, how it is with some women. You can’t please them no matter what you do.”

  Stan tried to steer the conversation back around to the matter at hand. “The thing is, Mr. Hamilton, all these particular women have to do is vouch for us one time and we’re free to go, but they refuse. And no matter what we say, they won’t budge. We need somebody to talk to these women, to help make them come to their senses. That’s really why we came to you, but we didn’t know exactly how to explain it.”

  “I see,” Blue said again and looked at each of them in turn. “You want me to convince some women I’ve never met to absolve you of whatever crimes made them cut you loose in the first place, not because you’re sorry and you want to make it right, but because you’re trying to get out of a deal you made of your own free will?”

  There was a long moment of silence. They searched their brains for a more positive spin, a more generous interpretation of the question, but the silence lengthened and grew, and still nobody said a word.

  Finally, Lance leaned forward and tried a small, ingratiating smile. “I mean, look, Mr. Hamilton, nobody’s perfect, right? We’re young. Nobody taught us how to treat women, so we’re going to make some mistakes until we figure it out, right?”

  From where Henry stood, he thought Blue looked more sad than angry. The boys squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze.

  Stan couldn’t stand it any longer. “Mr. Hamilton, we’re begging you. Please help us.”

  “I won’t give aid or assistance to your enemies,” Blue said. “But I can’t stand with you. I think your witnesses have the right to their own opinions.”

  Henry opened the door behind them and they realized to their dismay that the conversation was over. Jerome and Hayward looked like they were about to cry. Lance’s expression was a twisted mask of disbelief. Stan caught a glimpse of Jackson’s terrified face beside him and appealed to Blue one last time.

  “I know you don’t have to help us, Mr. Hamilton.” His voice was flat and miserable. “I don’t pretend to understand why you won’t, but before you write us off, I beg you to ask yourself one question. What kind of women would send a man off to such a terrible fate just because he exercised a little bad judgment?”

  Blue’s eyes were hard and his voice was cold. “Any time your life is at stake and you can’t find even one woman to come forward and say, ‘This is a good man,’ your problem isn’t what kind of women they are. Your problem is what kind of men you are.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  What You Get Used To

  Regina was glad Peachy had brought so much food. When she and Blue found themselves alone in the kitchen at the end of the long, strange day, it was good to have the makings of a great meal already at hand. She told Blue that Aretha was still pretty freaked out, but that she had agreed to not to call the people at Essence and read them the riot act for hiring her to photograph some vampires, in the interest of keeping down a general panic when it would dawn on the magazine people that she wasn’t kidding.

  At Regina’s suggestion, she had sent Joyce Ann to spend a few days at her father’s house in midtown until things settled down without mentioning the real reason she wanted her daughter out of West End. Aretha trusted Blue with her life, but this was different and they all knew it. Sweetie was spending the night with Abbie, and one of Blue’s most trusted associates would be parked right outside until she was safely home in the morning. Regina needed to talk to Blue alone.

  “So that’s all I’ve got,” she said, wanting to know more about Blue’s meeting with Serena than he’d been willing to tell her on the phone. “Your turn.”

  Blue leaned over to where he had hung his jacket on the back of a kitchen chair and took out the contract Serena had given him earlier.

  “There’s an escape clause,” Blue said. “If any of the guys can find a woman who will speak up on his behalf, the contract is null and void and everybody’s free as a bird.”

  Regina felt relieved. “Then what’s the problem? I’ll speak up for them if that’s all they need.”

  Blue shook his head and handed her the bulky white envelope. “It has to be somebody who knows them a little better than you do. Somebody they designated when they first signed up.”

  Regina flipped through the pages of the contract quickly, her eyes scanning for the words escape clause. “What do you mean? Like a testimony to their good character?”

  “Something like that,” Blue said. “They’ve got specific language for what she has to say.”

  “Here it is,” she said, reading aloud. “The woman listed below will stand before a company of not less than ten people and both signatories and swear and affirm the following. This man is a good man who can be trusted to tell the truth, live peacefully among others, assist in the care and raising of his children, and contribute to the overall stability and productivity of his community.”

  Regina frowned. “So why don’t they call up these designees and send the vampire girls packing?”

  “Because none of the women they listed will come forward.”

  “You don’t mean these women are prepared to just let these guys go?”

  “That seems to be the situation.”

  Regina couldn’t believe Blue was serious. “Does it say anything about who they are to these guys?”

  “Look on the last page,” Blue said.

  Regina turned to it. “High school sweetheart, best friend, neighbor, babymama, grandmother.” She looked up. “Grandmother?” Blue nodded. “That’s what it says.”

  “Do they know their silence will be consigning these boys to death?”

  “I don’t think they care.”

  “That’s not possible.” Regina stood up and walked over to the back window. Outside, the moon was lighting up the freshly turned garden, and she felt like the ground where she was standing had shifted underneath her feet. Had it finally come to this? Had all the bad times and betrayals finally broken the bonds she thought were unbreakable? She turned back to her husband, who was watching her intently.

  “Black women have defended black men against everything from the slave master to the crack pipe ever since our feet hit American soil,” she said. “It’s who we are! There is no way five black women are going to surrender our best and brightest to some vampires without a fight!”

  “Apparently in this case that code isn’t being observed,” Blue said. “The reason the boys came to me was to ask for my help in convincing those women to change their minds.”

  “Then that’s what you have to do,” Regina said. “There’s not a woman in West End who would refuse to step up once you make them understand what’s at stake.”

  “I can’t do that, Gina.”

  She turned back to Blue. “Why not?”

  “I’m not prepared to second-guess a woman who tells me she’s lost respect for a man,” he said. “I have to respect her truth. Isn’t that what you always tell me?”

  “Black women don’t have the luxury of walking away from our men.”

  “Even when they fall short of the mark?”

  “Especially when they fall short of the mark.”

  He raised her palm and kissed it softly, his mustache tickling just enough to make her wish somebody would call and say it was all a mistake, but she knew that was just a dream. This was real life, and she was going to have to figure out a way to deal with it, vamps and all.

  “That’s not much of a deal, is it?” Blue said softly.

  “You know what my grandmother used to say?”

  “What, baby?”

  “It’s not what
you like. It’s what you get used to.”

  “So what are you going to do?” Blue said.

  Regina didn’t blink. “I’m going to go see those women myself and see if I can get them to agree to give these boys one more chance to get it right.”

  “What if they don’t deserve another chance?”

  “Everybody deserves another chance.” Regina sighed.

  Something in her weariness moved her husband. It was the same weariness he had seen in his mother’s face when she tried to find something to love in between his father’s angry rampages. It was the smallest glimmer of a desperate hope that something would change for the better, even when it never did. Everybody deserves another chance. Who was he to deny her that?

  “How about if we invite them over to West End and you can talk to them together?” he asked. “That might make it easier.”

  “It would,” she said. “But that’s okay. I know you don’t care about these guys.”

  He looked at her. “I care about you.”

  “Thank you, baby,” she said. “Don’t let me forget it, okay?”

  “I promise.”

  “I’m exhausted,” Regina said, and she kissed his cheek lightly. “I’m going to turn in.”

  “All right,” he said. “I’ll be up directly.”

  But halfway up the stairs, he called her name.

  “I know you think this is how to love us, baby,” he said softly when she turned back toward him. “But no woman can love a weak man hard enough to make him strong.”

  She smiled at him in the dim light. “No law against trying, is there?”

  Chapter Thirty

  By Blood or by Love

  Tuesday

  The next day, Regina called each woman and identified herself as Blue Hamilton’s wife. In no instance did anyone answer Who? There was usually a brief pause and then a fairly tentative Yes? Reassuring them immediately that everything was fine, Regina invited each one to come by the West End News and speak with her and her husband about the contract they had signed with one Ms. Serena Mayflower a few years back. This was followed by another long pause.

  “We’ll send a car for you tomorrow around five thirty,” Regina said, as they searched their brains for a way to decline the invitation. “And I promise not to keep you more than an hour.”

  “We didn’t do anything wrong,” Jerome Smith’s grandmother, Alice, had said, sounding nervous.

  “Nobody’s accusing you,” Regina replied soothingly. “We’ve just got some information that my husband wants to share before you make any final decisions.”

  “What kind of information?” Hayward Jones’s high school sweetheart, Jennifer Monroe, had wanted to know.

  “The driver will be there at three,” Regina said. “I look forward to seeing you then.”

  Blue had agreed to host the gathering and do most of the talking. Regina thought that would give them the best chance of succeeding with at least one of the potential witnesses.

  At Regina’s suggestion, Blue had high tea prepared for his visitors. One table held an elaborate silver tea service, delicate bone china cups, and a mouthwatering assortment of pastries and fresh fruit. When the women were ushered through the entrance to Blue’s private office at the rear of the West End News, Regina welcomed them as if it were her home. She told them her husband would be there momentarily and offered refreshments while she tried to put their names with their faces.

  Judy Hughes, a friend of Stan Hodges; Kendra Brownlee, Lance Johnson III’s self-described babymama; Louise Solomon, Jackson Stevens’s neighbor; Jennifer Monroe, Hayward Jones’s high school sweetheart; and Alice Smith, Jerome Smith’s grandmother. She couldn’t really be sure who was who. They were all neatly dressed and they took coffee or tea, but nobody touched the food. They were probably too nervous to eat, which was completely understandable. They were being asked to make life-or-death choices in the company of some other women they hardly knew at all, under the watchful eye of a man they knew by reputation only. Regina looked closely at the women as they gathered around the table.

  When the last guest had seated herself, Regina stepped forward and smiled, but before she could say anything, the smoked-glass door opened and Blue stepped into the room.

  “Good afternoon,” he said pleasantly. “I hope I’m not late.”

  “You’re right on time,” Regina said, turning to the women with a smile she hoped was reassuring. “Let me introduce my husband, Blue Hamilton.”

  The women blinked or blushed or simply gawked at him, but nobody said a word.

  “Good afternoon,” Blue said, bowing slightly. “I thank you for responding to our invitation on such short notice.”

  “Who you think is gonna tell you no, Mr. Hamilton?” a young woman with a honey blond weave pulled back into a neat ponytail said with a smile that was more nervous than flirtatious.

  “Well, Miss Brownlee,” Blue said, calling her by her name, as if he had done it a hundred times before. “I hope that means we’re going to be able to work together on a problem I’m having with some young men whose names I think you already know.”

  As he spoke, he walked over to stand beside Regina.

  “I don’t know what you talkin’ about,” Kendra said, tossing that ponytail and meeting his eyes defiantly.

  “Didn’t you sign a contract to be a character witness for Lance Johnson III?”

  The other four women looked at Kendra and held on to the handles of their china cups for dear life.

  “Or not,” she said.

  Blue frowned slightly. “Or not what?”

  “Or not to be a witness for him.”

  “She was very clear about that,” one of the younger women said, and another one, also one of the younger ones, nodded. “She said we weren’t required one way or the other. It was totally up to us.”

  “I see,” Blue said. “Are you Jennifer Monroe?”

  The first girl blushed and nodded. “Yes.”

  “What else did she say?”

  “She told us that the guys had signed up for a really important, top secret assignment,” Jennifer said, and the others nodded in agreement. “And as part of their file, they had to list a woman who would testify to their good character, if the need ever arose and if we … How did she put it?”

  “If we were so moved,” the other girl responded. “I remember because it sounded kind of formal. When I asked her what that meant exactly, she said all we had to do was give our honest opinion of the guys if anybody ever asked us and be prepared to swear to it. I said okay, and then she gave me fifty thousand cash and told me when he graduated, there was two hundred thousand more where that came from.”

  The others nodded again, and some actually sighed at the mention of the money, almost like some women will coo at an infant, moved in some primal way that they can’t control.

  “What was the money for?” Regina asked.

  “I’m not sure exactly,” Judy said slowly. “They said it was kind of like insurance money since the top secret job the guys had to do was dangerous and they thought it was only fair.”

  “Did that make sense to you?”

  She shrugged. “He’s the one who put my name down, so I figured he knew what he was doing.”

  “Did you tell him about Ms. Mayflower coming to see you?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “She asked us not to mention it,” said the oldest of the women.

  “Mrs. Smith?” Blue said.

  Jerome Smith’s grandmother nodded.

  “And you just went along without wondering why?”

  “I don’t know about you, Mr. Hamilton,” said the last woman to speak, which would make her Louise Solomon, Jackson Stevens’s neighbor. “But where I’m from, fifty thousand falling in your lap out of the sky clears up more questions than it raises.”

  “And it wasn’t like I was still seeing him anymore,” Jennifer added. “By the time that woman came by, he had left me for a girl he started
sneaking around with freshman week, even though I gave up a scholarship to Yale Drama School to follow him down here!”

  Even four years later, she was clearly still angry.

  “Why did you do it?” Regina said.

  “Do what?”

  “Give up your scholarship.”

  Jennifer looked at Regina and her eyes filled up with tears. “I loved him,” she said softly. “He was my first.”

  “See, that’s what happens,” Kendra said. “You fall in love wit ’em and all they do is take advantage of you.”

  Regina knew that it was not a good sign that nobody disagreed. “What do you mean?”

  “Look, I loved Lance,” Kendra said, sounding weary of the whole topic, “and I thought he loved me, too. When I got pregnant all of a sudden, he acted like I was the biggest slut in Atlanta.” She tossed her hair for emphasis. “All those Morehouse guys are like that. They don’t respect girls from Atlanta, even when they chasin’ after us.”

  “They don’t respect girls, period,” said Jennifer. “It doesn’t even matter where you’re from.”

  “All I know is that he told everybody I had been with all his boys, so how did he know it was his baby anyway?”

  The other women were watching her intently. Mrs. Solomon clucked her tongue sympathetically.

  “I was dancin’ at the clubs just to make ends meet and you can’t do that once you start showing, so I moved back in with my mama. Once the baby came, he act like he didn’t even have no son. He never paid one dime and never even laid eyes on my baby’s face. When that woman told me he had put my name down as the beneficiary for all that money, I figured it was his way of finally taking responsibility. That money will give my baby a real future. I’m not throwing that away because all of a sudden his daddy is tryin’ to back out of the deal he made. That’s his problem, not mine.”

  “What did they tell you about the project the boys signed on to be a part of?” Blue said. “Did they give you any details at all?”

  “She said something about a space station,” Louise Solomon said. “That they might be gone for a long time.”