‘Both of you young ladies are to go along now. I insist on it.’
‘Sure, Mrs Archer-Laing, that’s real nice of you. Thank you for thinking about us.’
I’ve forgotten most of what I picked up on shorthand anyways, so I only pretend to go along for it, because I want Safi getting that job. I want Safi able to help her ma and get nice clothes for stepping out with Ainsley. He’s right smart, with a lot of ladies looking his way, so I reckon she gotta be smart too if she’s gonna be keeping him keen. Anyway, that kinda work just ain’t something I wanna be doing, and I gave up shorthand when I started my English, I just didn’t tell Mrs Archer-Laing.
I think about the King of England, now safely locked away in my trunk. So many times I get to thinking about the heap of good all that money oughta be doing, but there ain’t no escaping how I came by it. The smell of Mr Seymour’s dirty money is all over Pappy’s pipe and papers and that’s one thing I sure ain’t able to deal with at all.
I dug it up in good time too. Mambo gets mad as hell telling me they’re gonna get a new tar surface laid down near the end of our track for all the traffic coming to cut trees down for new gov’ment projects all over Louisiana. Most of the projects are down New Orleans way, but rail tracks are sprouting up all over. I don’t know why she comes over all surprised at that, like it ain’t been written all over our cabin walls for years. As I tried telling her and got thwacked for.
‘Right strangers gonna be movin’ up and down all over. Ain’t none of us safe no more.’
Some of us ain’t never been safe.
‘Ain’t got no damn business takin’ timber that ain’t even gonna be used round these here parts. It all gonna get hauled off to make things better for folks dammit better off already. Don’t make no sense to us. Plenty sense to them, I s’pose.’
‘There’s gonna be jobs in the lumber company though, Mambo. Maybe Quince oughta get a job over there and be closer for Rochelle growing up.’
The benefit of having complete strangers moving up and down all over is that the electric wiring comes out our way, and about time too, after all the hollering folks been doing. Big black ugly cables get hung right past our cabin, but Mambo can switch a light on and Quince can pay for it because he gets a good job at the lumber company alongside the rest of his pals.
The world is changing like folks always say it would, that’s for sure, and right then is when I recall it coming about, like Old Man Time woke up and rolled out of bed. US soldiers are back from the Great War in Europe and it seems things ain’t never gonna be the same again. Mambo knows these changes coming too. She’s been full time with little Rochelle, except for her potions and black-painted packets still coming and going outta Pappy’s closet. Madame Bonnet is out there regular for her packets, but from where I’m standing, it’s clear from the start that Mambo is in two minds about whether little Rochelle is gonna be learning all that stuff she’s got locked up in her closet and inside her head about folks.
One time I get out there and Quince is lounging out on our porch with his leg cocked up as usual. Ain’t ever get used to seeing him living in my Pappy’s cabin. Don’t ever seem right.
‘I see ya busy fixing Pappy’s gate, Quince. ’Specially since ya the one who broke it.’
He moves his cocked-up leg like he means to give me a poking, thinks that’s funny, but I swerve out of his way. He’s looking as glum as I’ve ever seen him, kinda doe-eyed and heavy-lidded, and I’m wondering, like I been for a while now, if Mambo’s teaching him a lesson about that phoney Pawnee bitch with a dosing of stuff from inside of her closet.
I reckon I’m probably right when she comes out with Rochelle, looking like she’s glowing all over. Rochelle holds out her little hands and I take hold of her. I’ve taken to loving my little Rochelle like I loved my Pappy.
‘Walk with me, Arletta, I’m gonna go get water from the pipe. Y’all take a hold of Rochelle now, so she gets air. Quince waitin’ for the ice truck. He got us an icebox out back so we’s gonna have a cold drink soon as it comes.’
Quince throws her a look when she waltzes past, and she shakes him a wiggle. I guess they been having words. It’s good to see she has the upper hand on him. When we’re out of earshot, she tells me she’s thinking she might even throw him out as soon as she gets back to cleaning the bank. The bank says they’re happy taking her back when Rochelle starts school.
‘I says I need work before then on account of my husband saying he’s gonna leave, and me with li’l Rochelle and all, just like I was with you …’
‘Quince ain’t no husband.’
‘Well, I ain’t tell them that. Anyways, I asked to see Mr McIntyre and he was right friendly. Well, he’s right creepy is the truth, but he says ain’t nobody ever done that cleaning like me and they’ve had nothing but trouble since I been off with Rochelle. Hell, it’s fine being good at something other than being a mambo.’
My heart sinks. I ain’t heard much about Mr McIntyre since I did my slashing and I sure don’t want to hear about him sniffing back this way at all, especially with my little Rochelle gonna be getting just how I know he likes them. Maybe that ain’t as likely as I’m fearing, since one thing he knows for sure is just what I’m able to do when I get pushed over the edge. Still, I’m gonna be on red alert about him and he needs to be real careful on account of it.
‘Rochelle going to school is ages away, Mambo. Ya able to stand living with Quince till then?’
‘That’s all the time I’m needin’. I wanna stay with Rochelle, and I’m wanting y’all to help me teach her what Pappy taught us so’s she can have a good head start too. Ya good at that sorta thing – better than me, for sure.’
‘He’s been okay since Rochelle though, ain’t he?’
Always looked to me like Mambo was making sure of that.
‘Well, he’s earning okay, and he ain’t foolin’. Sure has taken to Rochelle, I gotta say that, so maybe I just gonna see how things go.’
I’m glad Mambo’s thinking about doing for herself. Now I’m working, I can dip into the King of England and no question asked about my business. Just as long as we can figure it so Rochelle ain’t ever left out here on her own. That’s something I’ll be paying a lotta mind to.
Rochelle is quiet in my arms and I’m hoping Mambo is gonna be more of a mother for her than I ever knew. Truth is, ya don’t ever know it all with Mambo, but I’m sensing she’s gone through some changes and Rochelle’s gonna have a different sort of life from me.
Instead of treating Quince like she just told me she’s feeling about him, Mambo starts flirting all over him, and of course he goes for that. Evening time comes around and she’s back in one of them tight dresses with her bosoms all propped up in her corset. When they’re both full of iced moonshine, she’s running her fingers through his hair and throwing me a wink.
My Mambo is one big mystery to me.
Safi’s been dating Ainsley all year and meeting up with him after he finishes at the shoe store a couple of nights every week now that she don’t have to do classes in the evening. He’s got skin like chocolate, ‘handsome chisel cheekbones’ they say, and a smile that sure can light up a room. When he first started coming for Safi he got a right royal grilling from Mrs Archer-Laing and Monsieur Desnoyers, but he’s got an easy way about him. He’s always telling them he’s got plans for getting on and that’s the sorta thing that wins folks over.
‘Things ain’t always gonna be like now; there’s gonna be breaks for blacks comin’ up, and if ya ain’t able to find them, ya gotta make them. See me inside of that store? Ain’t nobody walking out empty-handed; I’m gonna sell y’all something. Half the time that’s just bootlaces. I seen times I just sell one bootlace at a time, but that’s something, ain’t it? That’s called getting on when the boss starts counting up bucks at the end of the day.’
Ainsley sure could talk a cat out of a tree. Safi’s doing fine in that clerking job of hers, too. Her boss out at the plantation must be a fa
r cry from them in the old days. He’s taken a shine to her good nature and treats her fair and nice, like he does everybody. I’m glad things are going fine for my friend.
One time though, when I was on our sofa curled up with a book for the night and looking down from our room to watch Safi and Ainsley stepping out for the evening, I think I hear Nellie’s voice again. Just faint, like she’s out there someplace, but I reckon she’s there for sure. I’ve been feeling happy for Safi because Ainsley always turns up looking like what any sighted woman is gonna call handsome. He wears light cotton shirts and smells clean. I wasn’t expecting him to turn round and catch me like I’m spying on them from our window. He winks and that gets me flushing hot. The only thing about Ainsley is I get the feeling he’s the kind that goes in for a bit of flirting and that’s something I don’t ever take to. I sure saw Mambo practise that plenty, and I don’t like Ainsley winking my way at all. Ain’t fitting.
I get on with reading Essays and Sketches on The Souls of Black Folk.
In the new year I hear the NAACP has a place on one of their English-teaching prep classes and I take to studying that like it’s just made for me and nobody else. Time’s going by with Safi and Ainsley giggling and grinning like a pair of Cheshire cats and Monsieur Desnoyers spending most evenings sitting with Mrs Archer-Laing in her parlour. Errol and me end up spending time out back in the courtyard or in the kitchen. I help him shell peas, he’s always shelling peas, and we don’t hear much from Agnes Withers at all. I never met a mouse as quiet as she is.
I feel easy with Errol. He gets ready for the following day and turns in early. I read or get on with essays from class and wait for Safi to come back from seeing Ainsley.
Safi’s ma is as pleased as anyone can be over Ainsley because he’s got a fine job and Safi is working in an office. I swear her ma is looking taller these days, there’s that much pride in her.
‘Ain’t it the way things gonna be,’ she says when I see her over at Mambo’s. ‘Ain’t no sayin’ when for sure, but one day we’s all gonna be living here in this country and ain’t nobody gonna be tellin’ us where we oughta be and what we oughta be doing, like we don’t know what to be doing for ourselves and we’s all in need of telling.’
I reckon she and Mambo been sipping Quince’s moonshine.
I’m lucky when I get on back to see Mambo and Rochelle these days, because Bobby-Rob picks me up at the mill. It’s been that busy, they hired the use of his cart and it don’t cost me a thing to be swinging off the end of it when he heads out there, and heading back too. Says he likes keeping company with Pappy’s li’l girl, tells me some of their old stories, though I already know them all and he sure does have a habit of repeating them; even sings a few tunes from the old days. Can’t say singing is one of his strong points, but it gets me humming along – course, that’s out of tune, too.
My Rochelle is one gorgeous little child and I stay over sometimes when Mambo and Quince go dancing. She’s so funny and so full of laughing that I forget that wasn’t how it was for me. I swear I don’t remember all of Pappy’s baby-tales till they come tumbling out at bedtime. I’m never in any rush getting her off; I’m happy spending time showing her what Pappy showed me. She knows all her numbers long before she sees we’re not playing games. I tell her how Pappy built the chimney on the side of our cabin when Mambo was born so they could be warm in winter, and how folks from hereabouts would come over to keep warm too, and bring food for sharing when times were tough. Men used to go out cutting wood and keep it dry for Pappy’s fire so they could cook their rice and beans together and have more for everyone. That’s how folks looked out for one another in days gone by. I tell her how he planted corn and looked after his fig tree, and how he built our fence to teach me my numbers.
‘Pappy was real clever, Arletta, wasn’t he?’
‘Oh yeah, he was real smart, just like you’re gonna to be.’
When she gets drowsy I hold her just like he held me. Her little body feels warm on my chest and I think about how I must have felt to him when I was her age, like a little warm glove.
One night, just as I think she’s dropping off, I softly sing Nellie’s song into her hair. When I reach the humming part, because I never heard Nellie sing a second verse, Rochelle takes a deep breath and then lets out a long sigh. Sounds like she’s thinking as deep as a little one can.
‘That’s a sad tune, Arletta, but it’s nice. Sing it ag’in for me.’
‘Okay.’ I kiss her curls. ‘One day I’m gonna tell you all about Nellie. She’s a good friend of mine. I haven’t seen her in a while though, but she used to always sing this song for me.’
‘Well, she’s real sad Arletta, she’s real sad. Sing it ag’in.’
When Rochelle is four years old, Mambo gets around to baking a cake and telling me the woman over Pawnee way has no folks going her way at all now. She’s been ailing, and getting worse for years, she says, so folks have come right back to Mambo. She’s doing better than ever from it because now everybody got into the habit of paying, though she turns it down outright if she hears folks ain’t able.
Quince sure is looking different these days, too, like the fight in him just gone and withered away. He’s still got strong arms, with all the lifting he’s gotta do in the lumber company, but he’s stooping a little now, like he’s always carrying a heavy load. Looks like his old cocksure swagger has left him behind, even starts wanting to know how I’m getting along in Marksville.
I think about Mambo telling me how blood runs through families and I figure that’s what I’m seeing in my own. Mambo and Rochelle stick together as close as Grandma was with her. Pappy and me were never part of the world they shared and that’s how Quince is starting to look now. I don’t know if he’s strong like Pappy was, ’cause Pappy took to Jesus, I guess, and I wonder how he’s gonna deal with living out there at the end of our track, and folks dealing with Mambo. The good thing is he’s working hard and bringing in wages. He’s back in Baton Rouge, at the lumber depot down there, loading barges on the wharf. I don’t know if he’s wandering or not, but it ain’t none of my business and that’s something Mambo knows how to deal with anyhow.
We even strike up some talk these days. He’s in his usual place, outside on our porch, leg cocked up and glassy-eyed with liquor.
‘Quince, I was thinking it’s gonna be something nice if the place gets a lick of paint. What you think about that?’
‘Eh?’
‘Some folks are painting their cabins now and I was just thinking how that would brighten this place up. And it’s good on wood, they say, helps with weathering and all.’
‘Paint? That sure takes time and dollars. Though I sees folks doin’ it.’
‘I think it would be nice. Like a whole new place, and they say it guards against termites too. I think Mambo would like it.’
I jiggle Rochelle on my lap.
‘Ya think she gonna like it?’
‘Oh sure. She said something about it one time. I s’pose it’s getting round to things, with Rochelle and all. I heard her say she would like living in a painted cabin like those other folks are doing.’
A little while later, and a few drinks, he asks what colour I think Mambo would like and I say pink.
‘Pink? I ain’t livin’ in no pink house.’
He does now.
Rochelle puts me in mind of Pappy sometimes. When she laughs she stops right where she is and giggles just like he used to. It’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. I wish he was around helping me teach her the same way he taught me, so she’s able to get on. When I find a well-thumbed copy of L. Frank Baum’s American Fairy Tales on one of the trestle tables in Marksville, I splash out more than feel I should to buy it for her.
‘Ain’t that lovely, Arletta,’ says Mambo. ‘Come on now, Rochelle, see what Arletta got for you? See all them pictures? Ain’t that something? That’s real pretty, Arletta.’
She points that finger of hers and tells me off as soon a
s Rochelle is sleeping.
‘It’s real nice and all, but ain’t what ya need to be doing with hard work and earnings. Go on and be getting for y’self Arletta.’
‘I want her learning early though, that’s all.’
‘I know that, but listen to me girl, and take care of y’self. Quince is seeing to Rochelle, he sure has taken to that. Ya just need to be teaching her and don’t go spending no more earnings over this way. Ya hear?’
‘Okay, Mambo.’
Me and Mambo, even Quince, we all got something to see eye to eye on. Our little Rochelle.
Seven
Safi and Ainsley start talking about getting married. I figure it’s about time.
‘I don’t know when Arletta, I mean, he ain’t asked me outright, but we’re talking about it.’
Half the mill stepping out the same time as Safi and Ainsley are already married and started a family. He says he wants to take it one step at a time, wants to talk about where they’re gonna live, says it ‘ain’t gonna be no rooming house’, and when they’re gonna start having kids, all that kinda stuff. Sounds like too much talking and not enough doing to me, but I ain’t saying nothing.
‘Arletta, when ya gonna go out on a date?’
Safi, and everybody else it seems, asks me that every now and again and my funny talk of waiting for somebody taller than me sure is a long time worn out.
‘Well, I’ve been thinking of somebody from my class.’
‘Ya never said a word! Ya thinking about it? That’s some news Arletta.’
I tell her about Red Benson. We’ve got examination papers coming up and he’s been helping me out with my prep. We started English class at the same time but he’s smarter than me, that’s for sure, and been doing all kinds of other classes for five years now. Safi can’t believe I ain’t never said a word about him, calls me a dark horse. Truth is, he ain’t exactly asking me out, he’s just suggesting he comes over here and we can help each other out with revision. Course, she reckons that’s just a cover for him taking a shine to me.
What the River Washed Away Page 14