by Alle Wells
Mrs. Sneed greeted us from the other side of a big counter that held jars of candy next to a gold cash register where she kept the money. “Well, good morning there, little ladies! Mrs. Bevels, I hope you’re doing well this fine day.”
Mama’s face pinched into a tight-lipped smile when she met Mrs. Sneed. I looked at Mrs. Sneed’s big bosoms and puffy, red cheeks. She smiled at me. I could tell that Mama didn’t like talking to Mrs. Sneed, but I thought she was a nice lady.
“Thank you, Cora, just fine.”
Mama’s stiff cotton skirt brushed across my face as she swept around. “Now, girls, you stay here with Mrs. Sneed while I pick up my order at the meat counter.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Beth answered as she watched Mama walk to the back of the store. When Mama was out of sight, she turned to Mrs. Sneed and flashed her brand-new teeth.
“Will you play a game with me?”
Mrs. Sneed rested her bosoms on the counter. “What kind of game would you like to play?”
Beth put a finger to her mouth and scrunched her face like she was thinking real hard.
“Ahh, I know. How about I guess how many peppermint sticks are in that jar and then you tell me if I’m right?”
Mrs. Sneed’s cheeks jiggled. “Well, that sounds like a fine game. Who will go first?”
Beth wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “Oh, Annette can’t play.”
Mrs. Sneed’s mouth flew open. “Why not?”
I crossed my arms, scowled, and blew out a big breath of air. “Why can’t I play?”
Beth looked just like Mama when she pinched her lips together and said, “ ’Cause Mama said that you ain’t a bright little cookie like me.”
Mrs. Sneed teased Beth. “Oh, is that right?”
Beth briskly bobbed her head.
“Well, that’s a real shame. Okay, you can play. And if you get the right answer, I’ll give both of you a peppermint stick. How’s that?”
Beth leaned into my shoulder and giggled. “Did you hear that, Annette? I’ll get one for you, too.”
My eyes stayed on the lady with big bosoms counting the peppermint sticks. Beth guessed that there were a hundred sticks in that little jar. Mrs. Sneed said she was right, but I counted only twelve. Beth grabbed her peppermint stick from Mrs. Sneed’s hand. I reached for mine just in time to hear Mama’s shoes tap up behind us.
“No, no. Annette, you give that right back.”
I jumped at the sound of her voice and let go of the candy stick. It fell and broke into tiny pieces on the big floor. I looked around at Beth’s red lips wrapped around her peppermint stick. Her brown eyes were happy.
“Please excuse my daughter’s clumsiness, Cora. How much do I owe you for that?”
The red glow rose in Mrs. Sneed’s cheeks, but she wasn’t smiling when she answered Mama. “Not a thing. You have a good day, Mrs. Bevels.”
Mama snapped her beaded change purse closed. “And you too, Cora. Put the meat on our account, please.”
Mama’s fingers pressed into the soft spot in our backs as she led us out of the store. The boys jumped off the crates and threw their apple cores into a barrel when Mama stepped off the green tiled stoop outside the grocery store.
“Come along, children. The bakery closes at eleven.”
The Bakery
Malone’s Bakery smelled like heaven to me. I drooled over the doughnuts behind the glass while Mr. Malone wrapped the bread and dinner rolls for Mama.
Bouncing up and down, I begged, “Mama, can we have a doughnut? Please? Please?” Mama looked at me, pursed her lips, and shook her head.
I watched Mr. Malone’s large tummy move back and forth as he walked back to the counter. His deep, husky voice filled the store. “No worries, Mrs. Bevels. They’re on the house!”
He pulled the big tray of shiny, glazed doughnuts from behind the glass.
Adam reached for a doughnut first. He smiled at me and said, “Gee, thanks, Mr. Malone.”
Beth and I sang out, “Thank you!”
The doughnut squished in my mouth, warm and gooey. It made my head tingle. Outside, Mama lined us up on the bench in front of the bakery. She breathed hard in our faces and tried to clean our hands with a Kleenex that stuck to our fingers.
She fussed at me. “Annette, I don’t know why I let you talk me into such things!”
The Drug Store
I giggled at Jack who worked at the soda fountain counter. His eyes moved from me to the scoops of ice cream he threw into the air. Jack wobbled and danced to keep from missing the milkshake cup. A row of wrinkles gathered between Mama’s eyes.
“Hush and eat your hotdog!” she snapped at me before taking a bite from her hotdog.
Adam poked at his Cherry Coke float with a red-and-white striped straw. “Yeah, he’s just white trash showing off. But Annette’s too stupid to know that.”
Mama wiped her mouth and talked quietly into the paper napkin. “Mind your manners, Son.”
Adam rolled his eyes and snickered at me, and then at Jack. I kept my eyes on the boy with the milkshake cup. He wore a paper hat and had freckles across his nose. He winked at me, and I smiled at him around my hotdog.
The Beauty Parlor
Beth and I played hopscotch on the squares of the pink and white linoleum floor while Miss Ruby put the big silver dryer bowl over Mama’s rolled up hair. I thought that Miss Ruby was the most beautiful person in Serenity. Her eyelids were bright blue and her thick, black eyelashes were so long that she looked like she was winking all the time. But the best thing I liked about Miss Ruby was her hair. She had the brightest yellow hair, just like my Chatty Cathy doll.
Miss Ruby’s white shoe pumped the bar under her chair to let it down so that my brother could climb in. Then, she pumped it up again and swirled him around. The pink and white chair sparkled as it spun around.
Miss Ruby got tickled when Adam wobbled his head and made silly faces. “Wheee! How do you like that, little buddy?”
Adam’s endearing, cobalt blue eyes beamed up at Miss Ruby. “That’s swell! Hey, can you give me a flat top like Daddy’s?”
Miss Ruby pointed at Adam and yelled at Mama over the roar of the hair dryer. “That’s a good boy you have here, Shirley. He wants to be just like his Daddy!”
Mama glanced over the Look magazine in her hands and turned up her lips. Miss Ruby shaved the side of my brother’s head with an electric razor. I waited to see if blood would gush out of his skin when she cut him. I blew a sigh of relief when Adam hopped out of the pink and white chair without a scratch. Jeff jumped in the chair behind Adam. He pulled his cowboy hat off his head so that it hung around his neck by a string.
“I want to be just like Adam.”
Miss Ruby took Jeff’s hat off and pushed it down over his eyes. “You got it, Pardner!”
Miss Ruby shaved Jeff’s head, too, without any blood. Then she walked over to Mama and pulled a curler from Mama’s hair. A curl snapped back tight against Mama’s bare head.
“You’re done.”
Miss Ruby turned toward Beth and ran her fingers through Beth’s dark, curly hair, fluffing it up. “Law, Shirley, this child has the most beautiful head o’ hair!”
Mama looked at Beth lovingly as she pulled the sticky, yellow and blue curlers from her hair. “Yes, she’s such a beauty, and blessed with my mama’s hair.”
Miss Ruby let Beth sit in the chair, but she didn’t cut her hair, just fluffed it up a little more. Then she looked down at me and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, well. What are we going to do with this little one?”
Mama tossed the last of her curlers in a big plastic basket and jumped into the pink and white chair. “Comb me out first. We need to be moving along.”
Miss Ruby teased Mama’s dark hair real high and sprayed it back down flat. Then, she pumped me up high enough to see myself in the big mirror behind the counter.
Miss Ruby held up a few strands of my colorless, fine hair. “We’ve got a few cowlicks going on
here.”
I turned my head and looked up at Miss Ruby’s pretty face. “What does that mean?”
Miss Ruby chuckled. “Well, Darlin’, that means that the cow licked you before you was even born, and now, there’s no hope for this hair of yours.”
I turned back around in the chair and looked in the big mirror. Grandpa Zeke said that we all came from Heaven. I tried to picture a cow licking me when I was still in Heaven.
I gave Miss Ruby my best snaggletooth smile. “Can you make me have yellow hair like yours?”
Miss Ruby laughed out loud this time. “Sure I can, when you’re old enough. But, until then, I’m afraid you’re just going to have to settle for dishwater blonde.”
Miss Ruby sighed real loud like she was feeling tired. “Now, Miss Shirley, what are we going to do here?”
Mama cocked her head and looked at the gold wrist watch Daddy gave her for Christmas.
“Annette’s hair has a mind of its own just like her daddy’s. Do the best you can.”
My face fell to the ground when Miss Ruby turned me around to look in the big mirror. My sawed off hair didn’t look anything like hers. I wondered if Miss Ruby didn’t like me, or if she was just too tired to make me look pretty since I came last.
Outside the beauty parlor, Adam slipped his hand through the crook in Mama’s arm.
“Mother, can we take a look at that new bike at the Western Auto?”
Mama hugged him close and placed a peck on his brand-new flat top. Adam always had his way with Mama because he was the oldest and called her Mother. But I didn’t care, as long as it meant going to the toy aisle in the Western Auto store. Adam and Jeff jumped on the red Western Flyers and made motor noises with their lips. Mama filed her nails and smiled at Adam perched on the new bike.
Beth and I climbed inside the Lincoln Log playhouse. Inside the playhouse, I cried because the cow licked me, and my haircut made me feel ugly.
Beth sat on the bench next to me. “What’s wrong, Annette?”
“I’m not pretty like you,” I sobbed.
Beth patted my shoulder and sighed. “Aw, you can’t help it. You just wasn’t blessed like me.”
Chapter 3Lessons
Neglected Victorian-style houses greet me as I turn the corner. Their turrets and gables look majestic, even in their ruined state. The sad looking street reminds me of the hard lessons I learned on School Street.
Music Lessons
Mama’s 1960 Chevy station wagon stopped at the curb. Beth opened the passenger side door. She wore a blue and green plaid jumper over a simple white blouse as she pranced proudly up the gray clapboard steps. The motor under the car hood rumbled. Mama flailed her arm over the back of the red vinyl seat and popped me on the thigh.
“Go on. Don’t dawdle. You can sit on the porch and do your homework until Beth’s lesson is over. And remember your arpeggios!”
“Yes, ma’am.”
There was no spring in my step as I crawled out of the car, wearing a jumper and blouse identical to Beth’s. The cold metal glider on the front porch stung the backs of my thighs. I listened to Beth’s measured scales float through the open window.
Miss Field’s voice snapped, “One and two and three and four. Good. One and two and three and four.”
I slipped a school library copy of The Moonspinners from underneath my fifth grade history book. I took up a British accent after seeing the movie with Hayley Mills until my fifth grade teacher threatened to send me to Daddy’s office. A trip to Daddy’s office meant a paddling at school and one at home, too. So I went back to being plain old Annette. But, secretly, I dreamed of becoming the lovely, blonde Nikky in a faraway land.
“Annette, I’m ready for you,” Miss Field called too soon through the window.
I felt Beth’s eyes on the back of my head as Miss Field placed the exercise sheet on the music desk of the ancient, mahogany upright piano. The teacher tapped her ruler in measured beats on the inside of her long, skinny fingers.
“Annette, I must warn you. If you haven’t mastered the fourth and fifth fingering today, you will not be eligible to perform in the Music Guild. And you know very well that you can’t continue your lessons if you aren’t Guild material.”
My fingers fumbled and then collapsed over the complicated scales. The piano keys felt too big and resisted my touch. Music lessons made me feel like a dunce. Miss Field continued to tap the ruler on her hand, but she didn’t say, “One and two and three and four.”
I thought, Uh-oh, this is a bad sign.
Thirty long minutes later, Mama marched up the porch steps with the checkbook in her hand. “Good day, Gloria. How did my girls do today?”
Miss Field motioned to Beth and me. “Girls, run along to the car while I speak privately with your mother.”
Beth and I watched them talk through the car windows. “What do you think they’re saying, Beth?”
Beth shook her head. “I dunno, but I betcha it ain’t good.”
“Aw, I hate those dumb scales. My fingers just don’t bend that way.”
Beth made a funny face and twisted her fingers into knots. I laughed.
Mama slammed the car door hard. “Well, that’s that! No more lessons for you, Annette.”
Mama turned and looked at me with her eyeballs rolled upward and her chin pointed down. “Your father is going to be furious when he hears this. Two years of music lessons down the drain!”
I stared at the windmill in a faraway land on the front of my book. Mama started the car and hit the gas. “Well, you can help me in the kitchen while Beth practices. Lord knows, you must be good for something.”
Daddy never said anything about my music lessons. Instead, he patted me on the head and said I was a good little trooper for helping Mama in the kitchen.
Ninth Grade
I was a gawky kid, too tall and too skinny, a dishwater blonde with a big nose and a long face. My classmates dubbed me cat eyes because of the cat-eye glasses I wore to straighten my lazy eye. At thirteen, I developed a painful case of acne that would linger for years. Self-consciousness made me feel uncomfortable in my own skin. I lagged behind my siblings in age, beauty, and brains. My parents doted on Adam, a cocky, straight-A student destined to do great things in life. They took pride in Jeff, the high school heartthrob and sports star. Beth followed in Mama’s footsteps, a perfect daughter who did all the perfect things. I lived a secret life inside my mind where no one could go.
Kizzie Butler was the only friend I ever had in school. Being friends with Kizzie made the ninth grade the happiest year of my life at Serenity School. Kizzie’s father was transferred to Serenity by the United States Postal Service in the beginning of 1969. She told me that her father’s transfer had something to do with demographics. I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew that Kizzie and her two little brothers were the only black kids at Serenity School.
Daddy sat us down the night before Kizzie’s first day at our high school. When I looked at Daddy, I could see where I got my big, lumpy nose and tall, skinny frame. Daddy flexed his hands when he became agitated. That night, Daddy flexed his fingers in and out as he talked.
“Troopers, we have a situation at school. You kids are my best troopers, and I expect you to do the right thing in this highly unusual situation. A colored family has moved to Serenity. Now, they can’t help that they’re here, and it’s our job to make them feel as comfortable as possible. Just do your best to make them feel welcome.”
Adam sat at Daddy’s feet, reached up and placed his hand over the busy fingers. Daddy’s face relaxed into a slight smile when Adam said, “Sure thing, Daddy.”
***
The next day, Kizzie Butler walked into my ninth grade homeroom. Whispers rose from the back row of desks, chairs scraped the floor, and papers rustled. I sat perfectly still, in awe of the exotic girl standing next to my teacher, Miss Peterson. The first thing I noticed about Kizzie was her hair. That girl had the coolest, thickest, brown Afro that hovered over
her head in a perfect bubble. Her clothes were nice, too. She wore a black leather mini skirt, matching black boots, fish-net hose, and a yellow and brown psychedelic print top that flowed over her hips when she walked. Kizzie looked like she walked right out of my favorite TV show, Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In.
Miss Peterson’s face was all teeth when she welcomed Kizzie to the class. “Well, hello. My name is Miss Peterson.”
Miss Peterson threw a mechanical hand toward the class and talked like a robot.
“This is your class. Welcome.”
Kizzie didn’t seem to be nervous at all. She nodded and asked, “Where do you want me to sit?”
Miss Peterson’s hand flew to her mouth. She looked up and down the rows of desks. “Um, you can sit in the corner, with Annette. Annette is Principal Bevels’ daughter. I’m sure that you two will get along just fine.”
Miss Peterson didn’t know how right she was. Kizzie smiled at me with closed lips as she twisted her butt into the desk next to mine. The sparkle in her golden eyes told me right then that I had a friend. Kizzie and I were inseparable from that day on.
Kizzie came all the way from Chicago, Illinois. She introduced me to life beyond the town limits of Serenity. Part of that life included the big, fat sandwiches made with pastrami, ham, peppers, and provolone cheese that we shared at our little table in the corner of the lunchroom.
The other students kept their distance from us. Their cold stares at the hallway lockers and in the lunchroom sent chills creeping down my spine. One day, when I felt those eyes bearing down particularly hard on us, I asked, “Doesn’t it make you feel bad that people stare at you all the time?”
Kizzie washed down her sandwich with orangeade from her thermos. “Nope, I just let it slide.”
“Let it slide?”
Kizzie sent her hand gliding across the air. “Yep, just let it slide, Clyde!”