Blackberry Days of Summer

by Ruth P. Watson

  I slapped his face so hard that Jake heard it and came running toward us.

  “Is everything all right over here?” he asked, inserting himself between Herman and me.

  “Calm down, girl. What’s wrong with you?” Herman bellowed as if he’d had his senses awakened.

  “I don’t like what you said to me,” I cried. “You need to stop all that damn drinking. You are a fool when you drink, thinking that Mae Lou is gonna take care of you.”

  “You can’t take the damn truth,” he said, riled up.

  The longer I stood staring him down, the hotter I got. With every word Herman expelled from his turned-up lips, the tighter I balled my fists.

  I couldn’t stand to hear any more of his rotten words. I stood to my feet, ready to leave.

  “Come on, sit back down,” Herman pleaded, pulling on my dress.

  “Take your hands off me.”

  Then I walked out before I slapped his disrespectful ass again.

  When I got back to my parents’ house, I was still fired up. I went straight to bed, but my rage at Herman didn’t die down for hours.

  Around 2:30 the next day, Willie returned.

  He came back with an army bag. Inside was one pair of trousers, a flannel shirt, a jacket, and a new shiny revolver.

  “What’s that?” I asked when I saw the metal barrel gleaming.

  “Nothing,” he said, trying to cover it up with his hands.

  “Willie, when did you get that gun?”

  “Everybody’s got a gun, Pearl.”

  “Where did you get the gun from?” I asked.

  “I had it. I brought it home with me from the service,” he answered as he held it up. It was clean, so shiny it didn’t look like it had ever been fired.

  “She pretty, ain’t she?”

  “Guns kill—makes me shake to look at it.”

  “People kill.”

  He made sure I saw the revolver. However, I wasn’t sure if he had been back to Washington, D.C. or purchased the things he returned with from the seed and feed store in town. It had farm goods, groceries, and clothes. I wasn’t sure of anything. Willie was acting strange, holding up the gun for me to see.

  “Willie, I don’t like guns.”

  “Yo’ daddy got two of ’em, a shotgun and a revolver.”

  “I still don’t like them.”

  “This gun is for our protection,” he remarked. He spun the chamber around and checked for bullets, then cocked the trigger and released it.

  I jumped. The hairs stood straight up on my neck. I felt a chill all the way down to the marrow in my bones.

  “Put it away, please.”

  Afraid the mention of Herman would set him off, I closely watched him pack the weapon in the box and put it away, sliding it under the bed. I wondered whose name he had engraved on the bullets he also stuffed in the box. He never mumbled a word about Herman. So all day we both pretended as if nothing had happened.

  Momma and I sat at the kitchen table and cut up turnip greens and washed them twice in the tub. She’d poured flour in a ceramic bowl and checked to make sure no flour mice were in it before she added it to the hen eggs and sugar and butter. She put in baking powder, nutmeg, allspice and cloves, and beat the mixture for two minutes before stuffing the batter in the wood-burning oven. The mixture of the aroma of the cake baking, greens cooking, and meat simmering wafted throughout the house. We were busy, but not too much for me to keep a keen eye on Willie.

  He went in the woods with my daddy, found a stout knotty pine tree, and cut it down. Willie was mysteriously quiet while we decorated the small tree with pinecones, newspaper, and popcorn. Momma made eggnog from the eggs, cream, and nutmeg. Twice Willie took his eggnog to the back bedroom and spiked it with corn liquor. Each time I followed him to make sure he was not going for his gun.

  That Christmas Eve night I lay in bed struggling to keep my eyelids shut. My mind still racing with the things Herman had told me about Willie. And now Willie had a gun kept right under our bed. He started to snore and soon was sleeping as sound as a baby. And I kept telling myself, if I made it through the holiday without Herman, I could make it from then on.

  CHAPTER 28

  CARRIE

  Each morning I peeled my body out of the bed, limb by limb. I’d stand in front of the mirror naked, noticing the rise that was developing in my belly. No one noticed the heaviness of my chest, and my pooch vanished once I’d hooked all the notches of my corset. The tightness and discomfort of the corset stretched against my bulging belly. But I refused to loosen it. Even Anna hadn’t noticed the changes to my body.

  One person noticed, though. “You look different, Carrie,” Mary said when she walked into the house. “Did you change your hair?”

  “No,” I said, alarmed. “Maybe it’s because you haven’t seen me in a few days.”

  “Maybe, but…You heard from my brother?” Mary gazed at me, her eyes roving over me like she’d missed something.

  “Yeah, he should be here around Christmas. He writes every now and then.”

  “That’s what I heard, too. We all can’t wait to see him. He’s been gone for months.” She chuckled. “I want to know if he’s grown up any more, since he’s a world traveler now.”

  I also had things I wanted to say to him, and Christmas was coming. My conscience was eating at me, and I wanted to tell him everything. Inside, I knew that no one could really understand the hell the last seven months of my life had been.

  “What are you gonna do when he gets here?” Hester asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it. I wish I could go somewhere and come back the same way I was before he left.”

  “That’s nonsense, Carrie. You can’t think like that. You got to say som’thin’.”

  I’d always been good at keeping secrets, except this time I was trying to protect myself from disappointment. Simon was as human as any other man. He wasn’t going to want me. He always had high expectations for us. The thought of him trying out for the Negro Leagues made people whisper, “Do that boy really think he is that good? Ain’t no coloreds ’round here can play good like them boys.” Simon didn’t let anything compromise his ambitions. I feared he would leave me and go on about his business. The thought of that made me feel awful. I’d written to him and mentioned Anna and Minnie, but the rape was too much.

  Hester tugged at my arm. “You all right?”

  “Just so much to think about,” I said.

  Standing, looking out of the window at the end of the day, Mrs. Miller cautioned us about the gray clouds hanging low in the sky. “I think we may get some snow here tonight. Make sure that you study your words and practice writing at home. No telling when the schoolhouse will open again.”

  I grabbed my books. Hester, Anna, and I headed for the door. When I placed my foot down on the first step, I discovered Simon standing underneath the pine tree. Anna noticed him at the same time, and she nudged me with her elbow. My heart started racing.

  Hester moved closer, almost causing me to trip, and whispered in my ear, “On second thought, don’t say a word today. Why don’t you wait until tomorrow?”

  “Okay,” I mumbled, keeping my eyes planted on Simon.

  I inhaled deeply and stopped to gather myself. Then I carefully placed one foot at a time in front of me. My bosom was rising and falling fast. His smile extended across his entire face. My eyes watered. I batted each tear away. I wasn’t sure if the tears were of happiness or shame. I walked over to Simon and threw my arms around his neck. I laid my head on his chest and buried my face in his chest.

  “When did you get home?” I asked with my face still against his chest.

  “I got home about ten-thirty this morning. Did you think I’d come to town and not come see ya? Girl, after Momma, you were the next person I wanted to see.”

  He made me feel so much better. “I didn’t expect you today.”

  “Yeah, but it is only a few days before the holiday. Right now ev
’rybody is trying to beat the snow home.”

  “Mrs. Miller was warning us about the clouds.”

  “Yeah, it’s gonna snow.” He tried to pull away, but I still had my head laying on his chest. Finally he got a good look at me. “What’s been happening with you?”

  “I’ve been trying to get through school. It’s been pretty rough this year. Everything seems a little harder.”

  “Oh come on, I thought you liked school. It couldn’t be that bad.”

  My life is so screwed up, I thought.

  Everybody was gone except Mrs. Miller. As she was leaving she came over to us. “Y’all need to go on home now. Looks like we are in for a snowstorm.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” we both answered.

  The fierce wind was whipping around my ears. The branches on the trees were swaying, and their last leaves were falling to the ground and carried across the schoolyard by the wind. Nothing seemed to matter when I was with Simon—not the wind or even the snow.

  “Well, everybody is still the same at home. There is nothing new to report,” I said. We walked to his car together, and hopped in on our separate sides.

  He waited for more, but when I didn’t keep going, he remarked, “This is not like you. You’re usually full of words. You have got to bring me up to date. You’re not seeing anyone else, are you?” he asked with a nervous smile.

  “Simon, no, it’s not that,” I said in a rush. “I have a few things on my mind right now.”

  “Tell me what’s bothering you.” He snuggled close in the seat.

  “Oh, it’s nothing,” I said, looking away.

  Simon pulled me closer and the hollowness inside disappeared. He gave me a smothering kiss and eased his tongue in my mouth. A warm sensation traveled over my body. I felt the tension rise from my shoulders and my legs buckled. For that moment all I thought about was us.

  Then we sat in the car for another few minutes, cuddling as lovers do.

  Simon held my hand the entire whole way home. He got out of the car and escorted me inside. The air seemed to get thicker by the second. The mood changed.

  Momma and Mr. Camm were sitting at the kitchen table sipping coffee.

  “Good evening,” Simon said.

  “Lordy, Simon,” Momma exclaimed, and her joyful response surprised me. “It’s nice to see you again. Sit down and tell me about playing ball with the best colored boys in the nation. I love baseball.” Simon proudly stuck out his chest and took a seat. Mr. Camm eyed him hard and nodded his head, interested in Simon’s stories, too.

  After a spell, Simon and I went into the front room and I listened to him go on and on about his playing. He really loved what he did. I snuggled closer, feeling as if I was wrapped up in a bed of quilts, sheltered from all hurt. I cherished the moment as if it was our last. I suspected things would change once I told him the truth.

  It didn’t snow like Mrs. Miller thought it would, so we returned to school the next day. Hester didn’t wait for me to start speaking. “Did you tell him? Did you tell him the truth?”

  I turned to her and shook my head. “I couldn’t tell him; it wasn’t the right time. Besides, didn’t you say to wait? Wasn’t you the one that said to have fun?”

  She smiled, seeing that I was happy for once. “So did you enjoy him kissing and hugging all over you?”

  “We tried to do some of the things you and John do, but we didn’t have enough time.”

  “Girl, you’re crazy.” And we both giggled. “What I meant was to have fun, but don’t run from the truth.” The tone of her voice was as stern as Momma’s. “But you gonna have to tell him soon. There comes a time, Carrie, when you have to say it, no matter how hard it is. You can’t keep him in the dark. He’ll never forgive you.”

  “I know, but I’m scared.”

  “Pretty soon everybody is going to know. Your cheeks are plumper and you’re wearing dresses large enough for two people to get into. I don’t know how you’ve kept it a secret in that house for this long. Do you want someone else to tell him?”

  “No but…” Mrs. Miller started class and interrupted my train of thought.

  Hester was right. I had been running from the truth for too long. I had thought about telling Simon last night and deliberately avoided it by changing the subject. I’d had over seven months to think about what happened. Now all I wanted to do was enjoy the time we were spending with one another. He was home for the holidays, and he didn’t need to be concerned with my troubles.

  Simon was standing outside waiting for me when school let out. I felt overjoyed, scared, and confused, all at the same time. How could I knowingly lie to him? Eventually, the corset was not going to hold me in and everyone would know my secret. Already people were asking me if I’d gained weight. I couldn’t afford to let Simon find out from gossip.

  I loved the way he embraced me. I wanted to sit in the car and cuddle for one last time before I told him the truth.

  “Wait,” I said, before he eased his tongue in my mouth.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I smiled and gave in to a kiss that mellowed me enough to want more.

  He pulled me close and rubbed against my full breasts.

  “I love you,” I said as he planted a kiss on my neck.

  When I thought I might melt, he said, “We better stop. It won’t be long. We can wait until we’re married.”

  The moment of truth had come. “Simon, there is something I need to say to you.” I reached over to grab his hand before continuing, “I have been in a great deal of pain since you were here last.”

  He let go of my hand and slid closer to hug me, putting his arm around my shoulder. “I know that it must be hard wanting to leave, and waiting until we can be together.”

  “Simon, yes, that has been hard, but that’s not what I mean.” I closed my eyes and tilted my head back to think. How was I going to say this? How could I say it in a way that would not make him hate me?

  “Calm down. Your heart is beating a mile a minute. You can tell me anything,” he said, massaging my hand.

  I snuggled closer to him. “Promise you won’t hate me. Simon, something terrible happened to me some months ago. I should have written you, but I couldn’t.” Tears were forming in the corners of my eyes and my knees started shaking.

  “Tell me.”

  I pulled free and told him straight out. “My stepfather took advantage of me.”

  There was complete silence in the car. Tears continued to stream down my face. I couldn’t hold them back. Then I gained control and wiped my face with the back of my hand.

  “What do you mean, ’took advantage’?”

  I raised my voice. “Didn’t you hear me? I was raped!”

  “What?” He was shocked and instinctively shrank away from me in reaction.

  “Say something,” I said, clenching his hand.

  He finally came out of his stupor. “I don’t know what to say. Sorry? What good is that? Why you didn’t write me?” he said, shaking his head in disgust.

  “I was scared. I wanted to,” I mumbled, too timid to turn and look at his face.

  Sliding closer to the door, he shouted, “Why did this happen? Why? I am going to kill that bastard.” Then he snapped at me, “You should have told me. Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Simon, please listen to me. I couldn’t tell you that way. It was too much to put in a letter.”

  “I can’t believe that you’ve kept this to yo’self for all these months. I thought we didn’t have any secrets. I thought we could talk about anything and especially something as important as this.”

  Finally, I dared to look up. “Simon. Why are you making this so hard for me? It’s been a nightmare.” Tears rolled from my eyes. Simon shook his head and bit his bottom lip.

  I quietly continued talking, resigned to telling him everything. “It’s not over, Simon. I’m having a baby.”

  He didn’t react at all this time, and my worst fears swept over me.

  “I
am so sorry. I am so sorry,” I said dully.

  “Tell me the whole story,” he demanded. He crossed his arms over his chest.

  I sighed. “Mr. Camm, he was always looking at me. He scared me.”

  Simon hit the dashboard of the car so hard, I jumped.

  “I can’t believe that this shit happened. You can’t have this baby! No way can you have this baby! You got to do something.” He looked down at my stomach, looking for signs of my pregnancy. “You don’t look like it. I thought you’d just put on a few pounds,” he said.

  I had gone to great lengths to keep my pregnancy hidden. I had taken out the waist in all of my skirts and in some cases the entire seam, and then sewn them again with enough room for me to feel comfortable. The corset was uncomfortable and binding. My stomach still bulged outward, but no one had paid me that much attention.

  Simon was enraged. As I explained what happened, he banged his fist on the dashboard in frustration over and over. He wanted to know all the details, but not even for him would I relive that terror all over again. I told him as much as I could get out without totally breaking down.

  “Simon, it’s too late. I can’t get rid of the baby. I’ll give it to someone else who wants children.”

  “Do you realize what the people will say when they find this out? They’re going to laugh at you, no matter what the circumstances are concerning the rape. You have got to leave.”

  “I don’t have anywhere to go. Where am I going to go?”

  I was hoping he’d say, “Richmond,” but instead he groaned. “I don’t know where you’ll go. I don’t have a clue. All I know is that son of a bitch is going to pay. I know his type, preying on young girls and helpless women.”

  I had been forgotten. I was the girl who’d gotten knocked up.

  Tears started flowing uncontrollably, and I broke down completely.

  He watched me for a while, and then said, “Stop crying, please.” He handed me a handkerchief from his coat pocket.

  “I know. I know,” I whispered. The sun had started to set and the sky was a radiant orange. “I’ve got to go home.”