by Hattie Mae
“Wait, wait let me catch my breath,” said Alice.
Joelette couldn’t help but laugh with them, she'd heard the story before and knew what was coming.
“My poor Willie, who couldn’t read anything without his glasses, had taken a bath in Niagara starch. He'd found the box under the sink and had emptied half of it into the tub of water. All the hair on his body stuck to him like glue. It took two baths to free his body of that sticky film.”
After a pause in the laughter, Amelia said. “But you know I'd give anything to bathe that old skinny body again.”
“I know what you mean,” MaeMae said.
Joelette listened as the women recanted story after story of long time marriages to their respective husbands. Some were funny. Some were sad, but all were told with love.
Oh, how she had wanted that for herself at one time. A niggling voice in the back of her head insisted Mansir would be that kind of man, but she shoved the thought away.
“Talking to yourself?” Mansir asked. He and T-Boy walked out of the darkness.
Startled and annoyed that she had not heard their footsteps, Joelette turned to T-Boy. “It is well past your bedtime, son. Give me a hug and go get ready for bed. I'll be in a minute to say goodnight. You know you have school tomorrow.”
“It's okay, Mom, I'm beat. Mansir said I could use the shower in his room and then I'm just going to sleep. Mansir promised to wake me up early in the morning so I can see MaeMae's face when she sees her surprise. Good night.”
“Good night, T-Boy, you did good work today. See you first thing in the morning.” Mansir patted him on the head.
T-Boy smiled, hugged Joelette good night, and then turned to walk away when he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “Remember what you promised,” he said looking Mansir in the eye.
“I remember.”
Joelette noticed that T-Boy had a new bounce to his step even as tired as he looked. Mansir had put it there.
“What did you promise my son now? I told you at the beginning how I feel about promises.”
“I've told you, I don't make empty promises. And believe it or not, this one is between T-Boy and me.”
Laughter broke out in the kitchen and roared through the night. “What's so funny?” Mansir craned his neck to peek in the screen door.
“They always laugh a lot, and cry too. The stories they tell are funny and sad. You should have been here earlier. I had to bury my face in the chair cushion to keep from being heard. I didn't want them to know I was eavesdropping.” Joelette looked up at Mansir. “You can go in if you want to answer a million questions.”
“No, thank you. I'd like to sit with you until T-Boy finishes his shower. I need to clear the air between us anyway.”
Joelette shifted in her seat and rubbed the back of her neck. She knew he wanted to talk about the other day. “I don't want to talk about that. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place.” Joelette eyes met Mansir. “Please.”
“I'll let it go for now Joelette, but we do need to talk. I agree with you that kiss was a mistake.”
Joelette’s neck and face were burning. Mansir thought their kiss a mistake. Why did that upset her? She turned and looked out into the darkness.
“Did I say something to upset you? I apologized, agreed it was a mistake. Are you sure you don’t want to discuss it further?”
Joelette released the breath she was holding. “No, I don’t want to talk about it, and I'm not upset. Believe me, you would know if I were upset. I’d like to discuss something else if you don't mind.”
“I do believe m'lady is miffed.” He sat back with his elbows on the floor of the porch and flashed her that sideways grin. She wished with all her might she could reach over and wipe that know-it-all grin right off his face.
“Alright. I'll take a clue, how did your day go with Mrs. Broussard?” Mansir asked as he shot her a fake look of concern.
“Everything went fine at Mrs. Broussard's, and stop calling me your lady.” Feeling very flushed and weak-kneed, she pushed her hair back from her face. “I'm going to bed. Or is that a mistake too?”
Joelette stood up and walked into the house before Mansir could respond. She was being unreasonable. She knew that, but she couldn’t help it. She had to distance herself from him before she asked him why he thought their kiss a mistake. That would make him think she wanted more which she definitely did not.
But damn how she wished he had kissed her again.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Joelette couldn't remember when someone had given MaeMae something she enjoyed more. She was so proud of her chair. She hugged T-Boy and Mansir several times before retiring to her beloved rocker.
When Joelette, Mansir and Ozamae set off later that morning to the swamp, they waved at MaeMae still rocking on the porch with pipe in hand.
A veil of fog engulfed the swamp’s edge giving it an eerie feeling. Birds sang high in the trees and frogs bellowed in the water. Nature's sounds were all but drowned out by the laughter from Mansir and Ozamae. Their voices seemed to bounce off the fog.
“You two make enough noise to wake the dead. What on earth can be so funny?”
“You should have seen Mansir jump, all because a bull frog jumped in front of him,” Ozamae said giggling.
Joelette couldn’t help herself. It was so nice to have fun with someone and do her work at the same time. This morning they were gathering Mamou beans. She stopped on the trail. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”
Joelette pointed to a stand of oak trees with their graceful Spanish moss swaying in the breeze. A sunbeam spotlighted the trees through the fine mist of fog. Tiny drops of dew shown like small diamonds on the grass under the trees.
Mansir stood beside Joelette. She watched as he took in the beauty, smiling until a look of bewilderment came over his face.
“I've seen something like this before. Not exactly this but something about it is familiar. It's the fog outside that building I remembered the other day.”
Joelette saw his brow pucker into a frown then like a light being turned on, he smiled.
“It's not just the fog, but the way it hangs on something outside the building. Maybe I live near the water. I don't think it was around here, but a place where the fog rolls in like this.” He closed his eyes and remained quiet for a moment. “If I could remember some landmark, maybe I could pinpoint the location.”
He placed his fingers up to his forehead and shook his head. “Well it's gone. I think it was an image of where I once lived. Or maybe just somewhere I’ve been.” Mansir glanced at Joelette and tugged at the neck of his shirt. “I'm sorry. I know you don't like to waste time, shall we continue?”
“Of course we're not wasting time. It's very important that you remember. If you need to sit here a moment alone, Ozamae and I can walk on ahead. Take your time.”
His memory was returning, which meant he could be leaving soon. The thought of him leaving rushed over her like a tidal wave. It was a good thing, right? This was what everyone wanted to happen. If it was such a great thing, why did she feel sick at the thought of him leaving?
“Come on, Ozamae, let's give Mansir some space.” Joelette took Ozamae's hand in hers and began walking toward the clearing.
“Wait, Joelette.” She could hear Mansir's hurried footsteps behind her. “The vision is gone. I don't need to sit and contemplate. Now, where is that clump of Mamou bushes?”
“How many bits and pieces have you remembered?” Joelette found herself asking.
“Not nearly enough. It's strange when it happens. I’ll have sort of a vision. Like a movie playing in front of my eyes.”
Ozamae let go of her hand and ran ahead to investigate something moving under a tree.
“I can't imagine how it must feel not knowing. I would want to die if I didn't remember my boys. How do you do it everyday wondering if you have left someone back home?”
“One day at a time. MaeMae and Dr. Adams are right; I have
to give it time. I call Preston every other day it seems and he is bending over backwards to help me find out something. But it's still hard not knowing.”
Joelette touched his arm. “I'm sorry I forget what pain you must be in everyday. You're a good man and someone, somewhere, is missing you.” Tears welled up in her eyes and Mansir reached over and removed her hand from his arm and tucked it between his two large protective hands.
“Joelette, you've helped me through this ordeal. I want to remember everything, but I also don't want to lose what I have here. The feelings I have for you...”
“Mom, Mansir, come see,” Ozamae's voice broke the spell.
Joelette withdrew her hand. “Coming, darling, what did you find this time?” She looked back at Mansir his hands hanging empty at his side. She turned and hurried to her son.
Ozamae sat under the tree cradling a tiny bird’s nest. “Look, it must have fallen out of the tree.”
Mansir knelt in front of Ozamae and took the nest from the small boy and held it in his hand.
“We have to put it back, Mansir.”
“I don't know, champ. The nest looks pretty broken. Sometimes nature has to take back what it gives. Understand?”
“But what if the mama birds like it that way, and it’s all she can afford?” Ozamae asked.
Her son’s words echoed in her mind. Was that how her boys saw their house? As the best she could afford? They never complained, except when their friends got new everything at Christmas.
“All right, son,” Mansir said gently, “let’s see how far up in that tree we can reach and place it on a safe limb. Okay?”
“Thanks, Mansir.” Ozamae’s small arms almost knocked Mansir over as they wrapped around his neck. “I love you.”
With the nest cradled safely in the crook of the tree, Ozamae skipped on ahead, then turned and ran back to Mansir.
Ozamae tugged at Mansir's hand. “Can I ask you a question, Mansir?”
“Since when do you have to get permission to ask a question?” Mansir smiled.
“Are you my daddy now?”
Mansir caught Joelette as she tripped over a tree root.
“No, he is not your daddy. Ozamae, you know better than that. You had a daddy, remember? Besides, Mansir probably has a little boy of his own wherever he lives.”
“Yeah, I ‘member I had a daddy, a little. But Mansir doesn't have a little boy, cause if he did, he'd 'member that. A daddy wouldn't forget.”
Ozamae skipped off again leaving Joelette and Mansir behind both searching their minds for answers.
###
They returned home an hour later with a sack full of beans. Joelette also had a mind full of unsure feelings.
“Look. Mama has a boyfriend.”
She looked up in time to see Ozamae pointed at what appeared to be a red shirt hanging on the front porch.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Joelette said marching herself up to the porch.
“What is that?” Mansir shaded his eyes against the sun. “Is that a shirt? How did MaeMae hang a shirt so high on the porch at her age.”
Joelette turned around and put her hands on her hips. “First of all, MaeMae didn't hang that shirt. That looks like Possum's shirt. He left it for me. And secondly, you tell MaeMae she's too old to climb on things and see what she does to you.”
“Why is Possum’s shirt hanging up there? Seems like if he wants you to fix something for him, he should hang it where you can reach it,” Mansir said.
“What's all the commotion about?” MaeMae asked, coming out of the house. She followed everyone's eyes to the shirt whipping in the wind. “Well, well, I see Possum is still on the prowl. That man never gives up.” She sat in her rocker and watched as Joelette wrestled with the red shirt. Possum had it tied in a tight knot, which took concentration on Joelette's part.
The shirt finally came loose and fell into her hands. “I better wash this and bring it back to him before he gets the wrong idea.”
“I’m totally confused,” Mansir said.
Joelette slammed the door.
“Do you need my help?” he called.
“No I don't need your help. I sure don’t need a man to help me wash and iron a shirt,” Joelette yelled back from the kitchen.
Mansir turned toward a chuckling MaeMae. He heard Joelette mutter “or any other thing a man offers to help me do” as he walked passed the screen door.
“Do you know what's going on?” he asked.
“It's nothing new, Cher. Possum is looking for a wife. Sit, and I'll explain.” MaeMae lit her pipe and took a draw. “The hanging of the shirt is an old Cajun tradition. I'm not sure how far back it dates, but I've known about it all my life. If a man was interested in a woman, he would hang his shirt on her front porch.”
Her eyes sparkled with the telling of the tale. “When my husband hung his shirt on my porch, I let it hang there until it dry rotted. I wanted everyone that passed the house to see who courted me.”
MaeMae tapped the pipe on the old can; the burned tobacco hit the bottom with a thud. “If the woman was interested in the man, she would leave the shirt hanging to let everyone know she was taken. It was an unspoken law that another man didn’t try to court the woman unless she became available again. If the woman wasn’t interested, she would take the shirt down, launder it, and return the shirt to the rightful owner.”
“Possum is interested in Joelette, but she's not interested in him,” he said. Relief flooded through him.
“Possum's being hopeful. He’s hung that shirt on every single or widowed lady's front porch, from the Basin all the way to Lafayette. Many men have had their eye on our Joelette since Otis died. You must know she’s not interested in any man. Not yet.”
Mansir reached down and unlaced his shoes. He enjoyed going barefoot when he was at the house. A habit he wondered if he enjoyed in his past. “Possum seems like a good man. Works hard and owns his home.” He rubbed his feet across the smooth boards of the porch, pleased that Joelette was not interested in any other man.
“Ah, but you’ve hit the nail on the head, Mansir, his home. He has yet to find a woman that will live on a houseboat. Most women don't want their house moving under their feet.” MaeMae chuckled and stopped rocking. “Can you imagine trying to raise a baby on a boat, oh, the worry? Or a sleepwalker.” Her chuckle turned into infectious laughter.
The image of someone walking right off the boat and hitting the water made him laugh right along with her.
“MaeMae you can always make me laugh. What did you do with your day today?”
“I treated two ladies for bad headaches. One had a migraine, but the other was just a good old fashion hangover.” Yawning, she covered her mouth. “The rest of the day I piddled in my flower and herb garden.” She yawned again.
“You look tired. Why don't you take a nap?” Mansir patted MaeMae's knee.
“Sleep. I don't take naps unless I'm sick with the fever. I’ll have plenty of time to sleep when I'm dead. What I need is a good cup of coffee. Want one? Then you can tell me about your day. I'll be right back, you take two spoons of sugar, right?”
“You don't need to wait on me. I can get my own coffee.”
“Sit. I enjoy waiting on people sometimes and this is one of the sometimes.” She returned a few minutes later, cups and saucers in hand.
Mansir enjoyed the rich flavor of the coffee and the delicious slice of syrup cake MaeMae put on his saucer. “If I don't stop eating all this good food, I'm going to put on weight,” he said.
“I don't know what you looked like before, but when you came to us you were the same size as you are now. Now tell me, did anything interesting happen today?”
“I remembered a little something today. It's been on my mind all day.”
MaeMae sat on the edge of her chair, giving Mansir all her attention.
“This morning, the fog rolled out at the edge of the swamp, and I had somewhat of a vision. I could see myself watching fog lift just like th
is morning.” Scratching his head he continued, “The more I think about that memory, the more I think it is the place I lived recently.” Mansir bowed his head. “It's frustrating, MaeMae. The more I try to recall that vision, the more it fades away.”
“The mind is a complicated machine,” she said. “Maybe you need to just let it run for a while. Take your time. Your memory is returning and that is good news. Don't try so hard. You’ll give yourself a headache.”
Joelette hurried out the door with a package under her arm. “I'll be back.”
“Do you want me to drive you?” Mansir asked.
“No I need to walk. You sit there with MaeMae and enjoy yourself. I heard you two laughing. Although I don't see what's so funny?”
“Joelette, we're not laughing at you or the situation.” His words fell on deaf ears as she walked swiftly down the road. “Why is she so upset?”
“She has to confront a friend, and she doesn't want to hurt his feelings.”
###
Joelette walked across the plank board that led to the deck of Possum's houseboat. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
“I'm here Joelette, waiting for you.”
She jumped at the sound of his voice.
Possum lay in a hammock tied to the front of the houseboat.
“You startled me. I didn't see you lying there. I've come to---.”
“I know, you've come to return this ole lonely man's shirt.” Rolling out of the hammock, he retrieved two wooden deck chairs from their place secured to the wall. “You have time to sit a spell, maybe?”
“Of course, I always have time for a dear friend.” She sat on the chair opposite him and knew she would not be able to use the speech she had rehearsed on her walk to his house. Possum deserved more.
“Let me explain,” she began.
“You don't owe me anything, Joelette I knew you didn't think of me in that way.” He winked. “You can't blame a man for trying for the best.”
“I disagree. I do owe you a reason, and you do deserve the best. You are a very special person to me, Possum. No one could have helped me more when Otis died. You were always there for us. I know I can count on you, but not just me everyone in the Basin and Bon Amie knows they can count on your word. Something few people keep.”