God Don't Play

by Mary Monroe

  “And where did the blacksnake fit in?” Rhoda wanted to know.

  I swallowed hard. “Well, after I had cut my cake and given everybody a slice, I started opening my gifts. I’d received more than a dozen, and I think it was like the fourth or fifth one I opened. There was a clock radio for my desk, a Macy’s gift certificate for a hundred dollars, and some perfume. I got some other really nice stuff this year, too. Of course, the office troublemakers didn’t give me anything, but they were first in line to get a slice of my birthday cake.” I paused and sucked in my breath, raking my fingers through my knotty hair. “It was a long, flat box, wrapped in gold paper with a white bow. It couldn’t have been cuter. Anyway, I popped open the box, unwrapped the gold tissue paper inside, and there was a fake snake. A two-foot-long, black, plastic, shiny fake snake coiled up like it was ready to strike. It looked so real, I thought it was real at first. I even screamed and dropped it. Everybody, except for me, thought it was funny,” I said stiffly, recalling how disgusted I’d felt at that moment.

  “Who sent it?”

  “That’s just it,” I said, flinching. “I don’t know. Nobody would admit it. I don’t have any proof but I think it was José, the Puerto Rican maintenance man. He sent one of the file clerks some flowers with painted-on faces for her birthday last month. The faces looked demonic. Everybody laughed about that, too. Even me.”

  “Well, flowers with ugly faces are one thing. A blacksnake is another thing.”

  “But it was a fake snake,” I said, forcing myself to laugh. “If whoever sent it really wanted to be mean, they would have sent me a real one,” I insisted.

  “Well, did you ask that Puerto Rican José if he sent you a fake blacksnake?”

  “Yes, I did. He said he didn’t send it,” I managed. “You know there were a few folks who didn’t like me getting my promotion—Carla Henry, Bev Carson, and a few others. They gave me dirty looks and moved to another table in the cafeteria when I tried to sit with them the other day. And Jade told me that she heard a couple of those wenches talking about me like a dog in the ladies’ room just yesterday.”

  “Oh? Look, I don’t want my child to be exposed to that kind of foolishness. People like that could be a bad influence on her. They talk about you in front of Jade?” Rhoda sounded serious and angry.

  “Oh, you don’t have to worry about anybody being a bad influence on Jade,” I said dryly.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Rhoda sounded worried now.

  “Nothing,” I mumbled. I found it hard to believe that Rhoda thought Jade was so innocent.

  “Then why did you say it?”

  “Jade’s not that weak. But she likes to know what’s going on around her. Uh, she likes to hide in one of the ladies’ room stalls with her feet in the air so that the office blabbermouths won’t know she’s present. You know how nosy our girl Jade is,” I reminded her.

  “Tell me about it. But I was just like her when I was her age,” Rhoda confessed.

  “I remember,” I clucked. I ignored an ominous chill that moved across my face, by just thinking about how much alike mother and daughter were. Not only did they look, act, smell, walk, and sound alike, they also thought alike. It was almost like they were the same person. But as far as I knew, Jade had not killed anybody.

  Rhoda had.

  CHAPTER 6

  While awaiting Rhoda’s arrival, I made sure that all of the windows and the back door in my house were locked. I drank three beers in less than ten minutes, draining the last bottle with a mighty burp. I regretted drinking all that beer because it didn’t help me one bit. I didn’t even get a buzz. All it did was make me run to the bathroom twice within fifteen minutes to empty my bladder.

  I didn’t hear Rhoda pull up in her silver Volvo SUV—her last year’s birthday gift from her parents—when she and Jade arrived about twenty minutes after Rhoda and I finished our telephone conversation. They galloped up onto my front porch, stomping like runaway mules. I flung open my front door and they entered my house, both scowling like prosecutors.

  As usual, except for height, Rhoda Nelson O’Toole and Jade looked like supermodels. They had inherited their deep green eyes from Rhoda’s father’s Caucasian mother. But other than the color of their eyes, there was nothing else in their appearance that identified them as biracial. Rhoda and Jade were both as dark brown as I was.

  Their faces were beautifully made up, and their tight jeans and bibbed white T-shirts showed off slim, taut bodies that women with my body type couldn’t develop even with black magic. Their skin was so smooth and flawless it looked like it had been sprayed on. You had to look really closely to see the fine lines around Rhoda’s eyes and mouth. But even that didn’t give away her true age. I knew women in their early twenties who had more lines on their faces than Rhoda had.

  Good skin was one of the few things that I had going for me. I had my share of fine lines and wrinkles, but you had to look really hard and closely at me to see them.

  My hair was another story. When I didn’t hide my brittle ends, kinky knots, and bald spots under a scarf or a wig, I kept my hair neat and dyed jet black to hide the stubborn gray strands that sometimes seemed downright invincible. Rhoda’s long hair, cascading down her narrow back like a silk scarf, was just as jet black and lush as Jade’s. Maybe even more so, because Rhoda had pampered hers longer than Jade had. It pleased me to know that Rhoda had to dye her hair, too, to hide the gray. That wasn’t much of a consolation, but it felt good to know that nature had only laid the groundwork; Rhoda had to work hard to remain beautiful.

  Even after all the years that I’d known the beautiful Rhoda, standing next to her I sometimes felt as unattractive as a pile of horse shit. I had been fat and plain for as long as she’d been beautiful. It was the one thing that I knew I would never get over. But Rhoda’s opinion of me was decidedly different.

  “Annette, you look amazin’,” she assured me as she air-kissed both sides of my face. “Forty-five years old this month and your skin is still as smooth as a baby’s butt.”

  Her comment made me feel warm all over because I knew that she was sincere. My good skin was due to good genes, Ivory soap, and warm water. Rhoda spent a fortune on wrinkle creams and facials, and had vowed to get a face-lift as soon as she felt she needed one.

  I had slipped into a fresh muumuu and a pair of comfortable shoes, but I was still on edge. I didn’t know what Rhoda had planned, but I was hoping that it involved something that required me to leave my house. It had begun to feel like a chamber of horrors.

  A flimsy, red-checked bandanna covered my head. The line in the nasty note about me having a receding hairline had sent me running to the bathroom mirror. I didn’t know what constituted a receding hairline to most people, but I didn’t agree with the person who had sent me the note. However, the remark had made me self-conscious enough to cover my whole head. It didn’t bother me that I looked like a straight-up mammy next to Jade and Rhoda. That was nothing new, and I was used to it.

  “Hi, Auntie,” Jade said, covering my cheek with hungry little kisses.

  Her warm, wet lips made my face tingle. It puzzled me when, out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Jade wipe her lips with the back of her hand after kissing me. I smiled because she smiled.

  “Uh, you taste kind of salty and sweaty,” she explained, realizing I’d seen her wiping her lips. “And, by the way, you could use a serious facial, Auntie.”

  “I could use a lot of things, baby,” I said sadly, drifting back to my sofa where I plopped down so hard my thighs vibrated.

  Jade and Rhoda looked at each other and shrugged. Jade swiped her lips again, holding on to her yellow backpack with both hands. She protected it like it held mankind’s greatest secrets, hiding it in a spot in her bedroom where even Rhoda couldn’t find it. Other than the Frederick’s of Hollywood catalogues and the other risqué items that she decided she had to have, I didn’t know what else Jade concealed in her backpack. Frankly, I didn’t want to kn
ow. However, one time when she accidentally dropped it in front of me, the lid flew open and a package of condoms fell to the floor. Before Rhoda could see what had dropped out, I’d kicked the package of condoms up under the bottom of my sofa, nodding as Jade gave me a conspiratorial wink. I knew that I was part of the reason Jade was the way she was. But compared to some kids, Jade was still a good girl. And I was so proud of her.

  I grabbed Jade’s hand and pulled her onto my lap, the same way I had done since she was a very young child. Rhoda stood over me with her arms folded, with the same scowl still on her face.

  “Where’s the note?” she asked, looking around my living room.

  I nodded to one of the end tables by the sofa.

  “Mama said that it’s probably from somebody who is jealous of you,” Jade announced, patting my shoulder and rocking back and forth on my lap. She felt as light as a feather, but she was as solid as a brick. “I said, ‘Horsefeathers!’ to Mama,” Jade hollered. Even though she sounded and looked profoundly bored, I knew in my heart that Jade was just as concerned about my well-being as Rhoda was.

  While Rhoda was looking in another direction, I slid the Frederick’s catalogue under the pillow next to me. With a frightened look, Jade took a deep breath, held her finger up to her lips, shook her head, and quickly snatched the catalogue from under the pillow. Within seconds Jade had stuffed it into her backpack.

  Clearing her throat, she continued talking. “Yeah, somebody is straight-up jealous of you, Auntie.”

  Jade spoke with such authority she almost had me believing every word that came out of her mouth. But after I gave her comments some thought, I had a hard time believing that anybody was jealous of me. I could feel an incredulous look slide across my face. “Jealous? Jealous of me? What in the world do I have for anybody to be jealous of?” I asked, waving my hand.

  I noticed a slight frown on Jade’s face when she noticed my nails.

  “Uh…uh…that’s the same thing I asked Mama,” Jade stammered, nodding so hard her eyes blinked. “I mean, what do you have that would make anybody jealous?” Jade made a sweeping gesture with one hand, holding on for dear life to the strap of her backpack with the other.

  I was horrified when I saw the lip of a beer bottle peeking from an unzipped pocket on the side of the backpack. Jade’s eyes followed mine. She gave me a contrite look before she slung her backpack around to the side, her back to me and Rhoda as she zipped it up.

  “Jade’s got a point,” I said in an offhanded way, with an acute sadness tugging at my heart. It was a struggle for me to remain composed, but I managed to curl my lips into a weak smile. I wasn’t trying to be sarcastic and my feelings didn’t feel hurt. Jade was not malicious or insensitive. At least, not on purpose. She was sophisticated and mature when it benefited her, but she was still young enough to use her youth as an excuse when she crossed the wrong line.

  Rhoda read the note in silence. There was an amused look on her face when she looked up. “I know you aren’t takin’ this seriously.” She laughed in a way that sounded like it was coming from some place other than my living room. Like a hollow cave or some place equally bleak.

  “Why shouldn’t I?” I asked, gently pushing Jade slightly to the side.

  “Girl, this is about as serious as a chain letter I received last month that said I was goin’ to have nine years of bad luck if I broke the chain,” Rhoda said, hands on her hips. “I threw it in the trash and that’s just where this belongs.”

  Rhoda lifted an eyebrow and winked at me as she ripped the note and the envelope into tiny pieces. Then she waltzed across the floor to a wastepaper basket next to my entertainment center, and let the pieces fall in with the rest of the trash. Strutting back across the floor rubbing the palms of her hands along the sides of her jeans, she gave me a triumphant look. “Now. That’s the end of that,” she said, folding her arms. “What did you do with that snake?”

  I turned to Jade and dipped my head, as if offering her a cue to speak again. She ran with it.

  “Oh, I took care of that myself,” Jade told Rhoda, sounding excited. “I put it back in the same box that it came in, and then I had the maintenance man take it to the Dumpster.” Jade eased up from my lap. “Auntie, why don’t you come to Cleveland with us? After we finish shopping, we can go have a real nice lunch at that deli on Superior that you like so much. You can eat all the fried chicken, liver, greens, ribs, oxtails, corn bread, black-eyed peas, and all the rest of that stuff you like to eat so much—as much as you want. My treat.”

  Eating was the last thing on my mind. As a matter of fact, just hearing Jade name all the items on that soul food smorgasbord made me nauseated. I had to hold my breath for a moment to keep from throwing up.

  “I don’t think so,” I said firmly, shaking my head and my hand. “I have a lot to do around the house before Pee Wee and Charlotte come home tomorrow,” I stated, wobbling up from the sofa.

  “Well, can we bring you something back?” Rhoda asked.

  “I’m fine now. You all go on,” I said, nodding toward the door. “Thanks for coming over here and I am sorry it had to be for something so foolish.”

  “Are you sure you’re all right now? You want to spend the night with us? We should be back home before dinner,” Rhoda said, her arm around Jade’s shoulder.

  “I’m fine. Just call me when you get back home,” I said, easing them out the door.

  The note had shaken me up, but after a few hours and a long nap I felt fine. Pee Wee and Charlotte weren’t due home for another day so I still had plenty of time to do the laundry and clean the house.

  Around four that afternoon, the telephone rang. Expecting to hear either Rhoda or Jade on the phone, I answered in a cheerful voice.

  “Hello, bitch!” It was a woman’s voice.

  My heart must have skipped two beats. I got so light-headed, I had to lean against the kitchen wall. The same way I had leaned against it when Pee Wee had talked dirty to me on the telephone a few hours earlier. A low, disguised whisper made it impossible for me to recognize the harsh voice. There was no noise in the background. Just the raspy breathing of a person who obviously needed to get a life, and stay out of mine.

  “Who is this?” I asked, my hand trembling. “Are you the same one who sent me that snake, and that nasty note?”

  “You’re damn right I am the same person who sent you that blacksnake and the note, and you can expect a lot more from me before I get through with your big, sloppy black ass!”

  There was so much contempt in the voice on the other end of the line, it made me flinch. Even so, I tried to sound pleasant. I felt that it would be to my advantage to do as little as possible to provoke my tormentor. “What do you want? What did I do to you?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough!”

  Before I could say another word, the line went dead. Tears that I couldn’t hold back formed in my eyes, blurring my vision. For a moment the black telephone cord looked like the fake plastic blacksnake that I had received on my birthday. I gasped and threw the telephone to the floor.

  I checked all the windows and doors again. I even went down to my basement to make sure all of the windows were closed and locked there, too. I stumbled upstairs to the master bedroom and grabbed the baseball bat that Pee Wee kept on the floor by his side of the bed. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely hold the bat, let alone use it if I had to.

  I left all of the lights on in the house, and I rushed out the front door like a bat flying out of hell. The house that I loved so much and had spent so many memorable moments in, not all of them good, was the last place on earth where I wanted to be alone right now.

  CHAPTER 7

  “Auntie, are you all right?” Jade’s voice woke me up. She tapped on the dusty window on the driver’s side of my two-year-old Mazda.

  After Rhoda had received her nice new SUV, I had dropped hints all over the place, hoping my mother, who now had more money than she could spend, would get me one, too.
She ended up getting me the sofa instead and then reminded me about all the times when she and I had walked five miles each way to get to and from the Florida shacks we once occupied, and told me how I should be grateful that at least I had a vehicle, period. I still longed for one, but every time I saw Rhoda’s chic SUV I knew that if I really wanted something better I could get it myself. Gifts to myself from myself didn’t have the same effect as gifts I received from somebody else, though. It did a lot for me to know that other people cared about my feelings.

  That was why it was no big deal for me to sit in my car in front of Rhoda’s house all that time waiting for her to come home so that I could talk to her again. Besides, I felt safer in my locked car on the street than I had felt in my locked house. I looked at my watch and trembled when I realized I’d been sitting in front of Rhoda’s house for over three hours, asleep for the last two.

  “Auntie, what’s the matter? You look like you saw a ghost,” Jade said, squinting her eyes to see me better.

  I rolled down the window and unlocked my door, happy to see Jade and Rhoda, even with the horrified looks on their faces.

  “What is goin’ on, woman? How long have you been sittin’ out here?” Rhoda asked, opening my door.

  I had not bothered to ring the bell on Rhoda’s front door, even though I knew her husband was in the house. His Thunderbird, along with several other vehicles, occupied the driveway.