by Mary Monroe
Standing next to Rhoda was a little Black girl around P.’s age. This little girl, who was the image of Rhoda, had to be Rhoda’s daughter, the child she had been carrying in her belly the last time I saw her. I didn’t torture myself by looking at Rhoda’s daughter for more than a moment. I had seen enough. The child was just as dazzling as her mother.
The small crowd was very animated—talking, laughing, and waving their arms. But P., sullen and mute, was standing a few feet away from the boisterous group, sucking her thumb. She was the only one who noticed me sitting in my car staring with my hand shading my eyes. A faint smile crossed P.’s face and she waved at me. Knowing P. as well as I did, I was certain that she missed coming to my house as much as I missed her coming.
I slid down in my seat as far as I could as my car shot across the street like a guided missile.
CHAPTER 48
A
fter I parked in front of my house, I had to sit still for about five minutes with my window rolled down. I needed to feel the cool air on my face so I could focus on what I was doing. Breathing with my mouth open, I felt as clumsy as a seal trying to undo my seat belt and maneuver myself out of my car. My big legs felt as heavy as tree trunks as I lifted them. I finally tumbled out, my shoes sliding, even though there was no ice on the ground. I looked across the street at the empty spot where the Nelsons’ house had stood before a mysterious fire consumed it a few years earlier. Then I looked down the street toward Jean’s house. The crowd was still there. Since I’d had the conversation with Jean about Vinnie taking P. out of my wedding, Jean and I didn’t get together as often outside of work. And even then, we talked about everything but Vinnie and P.
I watched P. tug on the tail of Rhoda’s coat, then point in my direction. I cringed when Rhoda looked in my direction for a brief moment, giving me the same blank stare she would have given a stranger. Without acknowledging me, Rhoda returned her attention to Vinnie Gambiano, who was standing so close to her, skinning and grinning, you would have thought that they were lovers.
I dumped my packages on my porch and sprinted across my yard to Pee Wee’s house. I knocked for several minutes before he came to the door.
“What’s up?” he drawled, a toothpick dangling from his lip, a damp towel draped around his shoulders. I looked over his shoulder and I could see that his living room was once again a huge mess. Hand weights and a barbell were on the floor next to a pizza container and a beer can. A dirty T-shirt was on top of a lamp, the sleeves dangling like snakes. I was more than willing to clean house for Pee Wee again, if that’s what I had to do to get him alone.
“Can we talk?” I asked breathlessly. Now that Jerome was out of my life, I felt that I could once again use Pee Wee as the sounding board I desperately needed now.
Pee Wee glanced over his shoulder first. “I’m just gettin’ out the shower. Can this wait?”
“Do you have somebody in there with you?” I asked impatiently, trying to look past him again.
“Ain’t nobody here but me,” he said, opening the door wider as he made a sweeping gesture with his hand.
I snorted so hard, the insides of my nostrils burned. “Did you know that Rhoda was back in town?” I asked gruffly. My manner startled Pee Wee. He widened his eyes and gave me a confused look. “Man, don’t look at me like I’m crazy,” I yelled, stomping my foot. “Just answer the question.”
“Yeah.” He shrugged, removing the toothpick from between his lips. “I knew Rhoda was back in town. Why?”
My mouth dropped open. “How come you didn’t tell me?”
He shrugged again. “I thought you knew. She been back a few months.”
“She’s back here to stay?” I managed, blinking and rubbing my nose.
Pee Wee nodded. “Uh-huh. She live over on Noble Street now, next to the bowlin’ alley. That Jamaican she married sure knows how to treat her. I heard the dude filled up that house with brand-new furniture and done already contracted to have a pool dug in the backyard as soon as the weather breaks.” Pee Wee whistled and shook his head. “One thing I can say about Rhoda: what she wants, she gets. That sister always was out of my league.” Pee Wee lifted his head and gave me a suspicious look, his eyes half-closed. “What’s up with you and her anyway? Every time I brought up her name you changed the subject.”
“That’s what I need to talk to you about. Will you call me or come over as soon as you can?” I asked, looking over Pee Wee’s shoulder once again. Soft jazz was playing from the cassette player he kept on a stand in his living room. He had burned something in his kitchen. I could still smell the smoke.
He nodded. “Yeah. I can do that.” He glanced toward my house and scratched the side of his neck. “I thought your daddy and your sister was comin’ up from Florida today.”
“They won’t get here until around eleven tonight.”
“Can’t we talk tomorrow? I was thinkin’ about slidin’ over to the poolroom for a while. And after that, I’m goin’ over to my cousin’s house to watch the game so it’ll be real late when I get back home.”
“I need to talk to you before you do all that. This can’t wait that long,” I said impatiently. I never asked much of Pee Wee and when I did, he always came through.
“I’ll be over in a little while,” he told me, a puzzled look on his face. “This better be worth it,” he said sharply. He sniffed and gave me a threatening look.
“It is,” I assured him with a firm nod.
CHAPTER 49
I
had suffered the consequences of my actions more times than I could count. Now that I was approaching middle age (already there, according to some folks), I was more concerned about doing what I thought was right, no matter what price I had to pay.
The telephone call that I had made to the Child Protective Services alerting them to P.’s situation had taken a lot of nerve on my part. I had done it because I knew that it was the right thing to do. However, I didn’t have enough nerve left to follow up on that call. Besides, I had other things on my agenda that I had to address now. Like Daddy and Lillimae coming to visit—and now, Rhoda’s reappearance.
Keeping my mind occupied helped keep me from thinking about my violent breakup with Jerome. The return of Rhoda and what I was going to do about it would certainly cancel out any more thoughts about Jerome. At least for the time being.
Even though it had been years and I had made a promise to Rhoda, I could no longer keep silent about the crimes she had confessed to me. Seeing her today, grinning with her Italian friends and looking so beautiful, had a strange effect on me. I think I would have felt better about seeing her if she’d lost some of her beauty and if she had seemed more restrained. I wondered if Rhoda ever thought about what she’d done to those people and if she ever felt remorse. That morbid secret suddenly felt like it wanted to explode right out of my head on its own. I had to finally release it in a more dignified manner.
“Did Rhoda ever tell you why she and I stopped being friends?” I asked as soon as Pee Wee entered my living room a few minutes after I’d left his house.
Knowing he loved jazz as much as I did, I had popped an old Nina Simone tape into my cassette player. I had tossed my overcoat on the back of the couch and slid off my shoes. The soft carpet felt good against my feet, but I had started itching all over since I’d seen Rhoda. I stood facing Pee Wee, scratching my arms and neck as I talked.
Pee Wee shook his head and gave me an indifferent look. “Not really. She gave me the same weak-ass story you gave me. Somethin’ about y’all growin’ apart.” Pee Wee rooted through my tape collection on the floor. “You ain’t got no Bob Marley?” he asked, squatting on the floor.
“They are all at your house,” I reminded, sinking down hard onto the couch with my arms folded. “Pee Wee, I trust you. You are the only person I can tell something this serious.”
Pee Wee looked up from the tapes and slid his tongue across his bottom lip. “Oh, this must be river deep, judging from the look on you
r face. Should I have a drink first or should I sit down?”
“You better do both,” I whimpered, wringing my hands.
I sucked in my breath and closed my eyes for a few moments. When I opened my eyes, Pee Wee was staring at me with a horrified look on his face.
“Girl, what in the hell is the matter with you? I hope you ain’t about to have no screamin’ fit, or no nervous breakdown or nothin’ else that I can’t handle up in here,” Pee Wee said with alarm.
“I’m fine. Just go get the drinks,” I said, breathing through my mouth as I waved Pee Wee from the room.
He literally ran into my kitchen and returned with a six-pack of beer. He popped open one for himself and one for me, placing the other four on the floor next to his feet as he plopped down on the love seat facing my couch. I was pacing the floor, looking toward the door.
“Pee Wee, Rhoda killed Mr. Boatwright,” I blurted out. I stood stock-still and held my breath, clutching the can in my hand before I took a swallow.
Pee Wee shrieked like a loon and started choking on his beer. I had to run across the floor to slap him on the back.
Between coughs and wide-eyed expressions, he said, “Oh, come on, girl. Don’t be playin’ with me. Why you comin’ out with some crazy shit like that?”
“I swear to God. And he wasn’t the only one—”
Pee Wee held up his hand, frowning ferociously. “Hold on now. Let’s take this slow. You tellin’ me that itty-bitty Rhoda killed old man Boatwright and somebody else? Well, tell me why you think she killed Boatwright first, and then tell me about the rest.” He paused to let my words sink in. Then he gave me a thoughtful look before taking another sip of his beer.
“Uh. She didn’t like him. I know he had everybody believing that he was all holy and saved and stuff, but he wasn’t.”
“Exactly what did the old brother do that made Rhoda kill him?” Pee Wee asked, wiping his wet lips with the back of his hand.
“Uh…he was mean to her so she smothered him while he was sleeping.”
Pee Wee laughed, shook his head, and slapped his knee.
“Don’t laugh. I’m telling the truth. I’ve been carrying this around too long. When I saw her today, I knew I had to get this off of my chest. It’s time I did the right thing by telling.”
“Well, the right thing would be goin’ to the cops and tellin’ them.”
“I can’t do that—”
“You think you doin’ the right thing by tellin’ me? What do you expect me to do?”
“I just want you to listen. I wanted somebody else to share this with.” The room got so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I could no longer hear Nina Simone.
“So who else did Rhoda kill?” Pee Wee asked seriously, leaning his head forward, toying with the tip of his goatee.
“Her grandmother,” I said flatly. I couldn’t believe that I was finally revealing Rhoda’s unspeakable crimes to another person. I was frightened and relieved at the same time.
Pee Wee just stared at me with his mouth hanging open. His hand froze in midair. “Now that I can understand. I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to off that old battle-ax myself.” He let out a groan and started scratching the side of his neck.
I sighed and started pacing the floor again. “I’m not through. You need to hear it all.”
CHAPTER 50
B
efore I could continue my lurid confession, Pee Wee leaped from his seat and took the stairs three at a time to get upstairs to the bathroom. He returned to his seat within minutes and snatched up his beer and took a long swallow.
“You mean the sister killed somebody else?” he asked with his eyes stretched open so wide, I was afraid that his eyeballs would pop out and roll across the floor.
“Uh-huh.” I nodded, sitting down hard on my couch. “She sure did.” I took several deep breaths, not taking my eyes off of Pee Wee’s face. His mouth was hanging open. He slid his tongue back and forth across his bottom lip.
Pee Wee blinked a few times, returned his eyes to their normal size, and rubbed his neck. “Girl, this is some of the most off-the-wall shit you ever told me.”
“And I hope you’re believing me because every word of it is true.”
Not taking his eyes off of me, Pee Wee drained his beer can and popped open another one with his teeth. He tilted his head and motioned with his hand for me to continue.
“Remember that cop that shot Rhoda’s brother, David? Well, she killed him, too. And when she was still living in Florida, she killed a white girl named April that her brother Jock got pregnant. April was threatening to tell her racist daddy all kinds of shit. She said that if Jock left her, she was going to say Rhoda’s husband was the one that got her pregnant.”
Once again, Pee Wee stared at me in slackjawed amazement. “Why you tellin’ me all this crazy shit, girl? Is this got anything to do with you and Jerome bustin’ up?”
“Forget about Jerome!” I snarled, rising from the couch, waving my arms. “None of this has anything to do with Jerome Cunningham.”
Pee Wee shook his head and rubbed his eyes. He leaned back in his chair and screwed up his face like a coin purse. The look on his face was so extreme, I thought he was in pain and I guess he was. He started rubbing his chest and moaning. “Girl, you a mess. I—you serious, ain’t you?”
“I swear to God. You know me well enough to know I wouldn’t be making all this up.”
“Let me ask you somethin’. Did you witness Rhoda do any of this shit?”
“Huh? No, I didn’t. But she told me out of her own mouth!”
“Damn! And I thought your little confession about that prostitutin’ thing was a pip.”
A wave of sadness crossed my face and it seemed like the room got darker, but it was only my mood. “You don’t believe me, do you?” I waved my hand in exasperation. “Why would I be lying to you about something like this?”
Pee Wee exhaled and let out a deep breath. “Hell if I know.” He paused and leaned his body so far to the side, I thought he was going to roll right out of his seat. “Why did you wait so long to tell me this outrageous shit?”
“Rhoda made me promise not to tell anybody. I didn’t because I was afraid that if she got caught, I’d be in trouble myself for not telling. You know how strange the law is.” My hands were trembling.
“In the first place, if Rhoda wanted to make sure she never got caught, why she tell you all this shit? And another thing, how could she have killed four people and got away with it? The woman ain’t no bigger than a snap bean.” Pee Wee groaned and started tapping his knee with the bottom of his beer can. “One of my hands would make two of hers. Yours would, too, for that matter.”
“She smothered Mr. Boatwright with his own pillow while he was sleeping. Everybody thought he just died in his sleep that night. She pushed her grandmother down the steps and the old lady broke her neck. And remember how Rhoda was always running into things with that old car her daddy bought for her and her brother Jock? Well, when she ran down that cop, everybody thought it was just a hit-and-run. With that white girl in Florida, Rhoda threw a radio in the bathtub while the girl was taking a bath and electrocuted her. I swear she did.”
“But you ain’t seen none of this shit.”
“No. But why would Rhoda confess to it all if it wasn’t true?”
“Sound like to me Rhoda girl got a serious problem, but it ain’t murder. If that sister told you some funky shit like that, she got her a mental problem. Ain’t you never heard of pathological liars?”
“Of course I have, but why would Rhoda make up lies like that?”
“Because if she is a pathological liar, tellin’ lies is what she supposed to do. At least that’s the way her mind see it. And the bigger the lies, the better. My cousin Claude in Erie is a kleptomaniac. He’d steal your mind if he could. Stealin’ and lyin’ ain’t so bad if the person doin’ it don’t know no better. They ain’t no worse than alcoholics.”
I sank back onto th
e couch, folding my arms. I didn’t know why I was trembling. One thing I knew about Pee Wee was that I could trust him.
“Pee Wee, I knew Rhoda better than anybody. And it all made sense to me. She had a reason to kill all four of those people.”
“The old lady, the cop, and the white girl, I could see her havin’ the ass with them. But old man Boatwright was like a granddaddy to all of us. What could a harmless old man like Boatwright have done to Rhoda to make her kill him?”
“Didn’t I just tell you he wasn’t what he seemed to be?”
“Like how? The old dude could barely get around on that one leg of his. Hell. He was even more harmless than Rhoda. His head was always up in the Bible and shit.”
“You don’t believe me, do you?” I pouted. “I’ve wasted my time and yours by sharing this with you.”
“Oh, I believe you, all right. I believe Rhoda told you some crazy shit and you believed her. But I don’t believe what Rhoda told you. What I do believe is what I just said—the girl was a pathological liar and still could be. Is all that shit she told you the real reason you cut her loose?”
I didn’t realize I was still trembling until I looked at my hands. The can of beer in my hand was shaking so hard, beer spilled out. Suds covered my hand like a glove.
I shook my head. “I was scared. I thought that if Rhoda got caught, I’d go down with her.”
“Well, if what she told you is true, and she gets caught, you goin’ down with her anyway.” Pee Wee ran into the kitchen and returned with a paper towel, mopping sweat off his face.
“Pee Wee, you have to promise me you won’t tell anybody what I just told you.”
Laughing, he sat back down, dropping the paper towel to the floor. “Oh, you ain’t got to worry about that. What you need to be worried about is why Rhoda told you that pack of lies in the first place. Did you ever sit her down and try to figure her out?” Pee Wee shook his head and gave me a pitying look. “I always thought that out of the three of us, you was the one with the most common sense.” He laughed again and drank some more. He stopped laughing when he saw how hard I was staring at him. He let out a gasp that resembled a croak. “You really believed that woman. Didn’t you?”