Descendants of Hagar

by Nik Nicholson

  “Kill chickens and skin rabbits.” I clean up around my plate and put all my dishes together.

  “My mother bought a piano when I was a girl. We all learned to play some. I don’t remember anything now. I think she made us take lessons to justify getting it. It was just for show. As soon as one of us protested about taking lessons, we were allowed to stop. I didn’t expect to find a piano in this house.” She looks over at the piano in the living room. “Mama says you always know a family has money if they have a piano, and you can tell how much money by what kind of piano.”

  I don’t say nothing, just look at ‘a hard, hoping it make ‘a uncomfortable enough to keep talking. She don’t disappoint.

  “Who are you trying to impress with that piano?” She looks at me expecting an answer.

  I don’t say nothing.

  “I mean, you don’t play do you? I mean, there isn’t anyone to entertain. I’m just thinking, why you would have a piano out here?” She finally settle on what she saying or asking, but I still don’t say nothing. “Aren’t you going to answer me?”

  “Have you gotten an answer?”

  “No,” she pushes ‘a food around on ‘a plate, staring at me like she’s trying to convict my spirit, or like ‘a feelings hurt.

  “Silence is an answer. Specially when you sitting here like you know everything, and coming to your own conclusions.”

  “You’re not saying you play the piano, are you?”

  “Are you asking me or telling me?”

  “I’m just making conversation.”

  “With yourself?”

  “What?” She stop eating like that answer done turned ‘a stomach.

  I get up to clean up and put the food away.

  “Wait a minute. Where are you going?” She stands with me, grabbing ‘a plate, too.

  “I’m finished. Want anything else fore I put this food up?”

  “But…” she say, holding ‘a plate and looking at mine, “I haven’t finished.”

  “And you ain never gone finish between running ya mouth, cutting and eating them tiny bites and wiping ya mouth.” Getting the silverware off the table she ain using and dropping it on my plate, I say, “Now do you want any more of this food, fore I put it up?”

  “We don’t get up until everyone is done eating at home.”

  “Are you at home?”

  Slamming herself back down at the table, she stabs ‘a fork into the cabbage and eats hungrily now. Annoyed.

  Lost, I say, “Good evening,” then go on into the kitchen and clean up. Now that somebody here, I can go out on the porch, enjoy the last of evening light and read. Before she came, I never felt comfortable letting night catch me outside.

  Chapter Nineteen

  NORTHERN SCHOOL TEACHER

  “Morning.” I knock on Coley’s door after I walk out in the hall and don’t hear ‘a stirring. “Want me to take you around to the school, so you can get it in order?” I think I better give ‘a Anastasia, cause I just broke Teddy in and don’t think he ready to be rode by a lady. When she don’t say nothing, “Coletta?”

  “Coley,” she moan, like she correcting me from under the cover. I wonder how she sleeping through them roosters’ crowing. Once one get started, they all get to going. This my first time ever meeting a nigga who can sleep through it, or anybody for that matter.

  “You hear me bout that ride?”

  “No, thank you. Reverend Patrick and his wife are coming to pick me up in their automobile.” She sound annoyed.

  “Alright then.” I start towards the steps.

  “What time is it?”

  I stop. “Maybe 4:30 or 5.”

  “In the morning?”

  “Unless you use to sleeping all day.”

  “Who gets up this early?”

  “We do.”

  “Who is ‘we’?”

  “You, me and the whole town, I expect.”

  “Oh my! What the? Is that a chicken howling like that, at this time of morning?”

  “Roosters crowing.” I’m tickled.

  “I knew that. What time does school start?”

  “Bout 8:o0 or 8:30. But you need to be there round bout 6 to get the fireplace started and get the chill out fore the kids start coming at around 7. Cause some folks gone be dropping ’em off early, so they can catch work trucks to other towns, or to be in the fields early.”

  “Why are you up so early?”

  “We gotta feed the animals, and milk the cows fore breakfast. Get supper started, too. Plus, I think I’m gone bake us some bread for later on.”

  “You’re making breakfast and dinner, now?”

  “Well, we ain’t gone be home all day. So who else gone fix us something to eat?”

  “I had a maid at home.”

  “Well, that’s too bad you ain’t bring ‘a. Come nah, get on up and get dressed.”

  I leave ‘a door and go on down to start the day. I put some wood in the stove. Put a few pieces in the fireplace, too, to chase the draft out since I got company. I’m gone have to make sure there’s more wood in the house now, so she can have some in her room for that fireplace.

  I put some butter in the skillet for pancakes. Turn the bacon over again and stir the grits. Been awhile since I cooked a big breakfast. Iain cooked like this since Miemay could eat. She loved her some apple or grape jam or syrup and biscuits.

  All while I’m thinking bout Miemay, I hear Coley’s slippered feet whisk overhead. Then I hear ‘a boots fall heavy in front of the bed bench. As I’m scrambling eggs, I hear ‘a stand solid, them boots on, then ‘a footsteps going cross the floor to the door. I like the sound of somebody else in the house.

  “Breakfast smells good. What? No, who’s on your mind got you smiling?” She is seemingly dancing as she asks.

  Straightening my face, I order, pointing with the fork, “The plates are over there.” She follows direction, rinses them under the sink and walks over to me placing them in arms reach.

  ***

  Look like all the lights off cept for the ones in the back office when I reach the school. With all the trees and few windows, it’s kinda dark. Plus, the sun ain’t got all the way up. I don’t see The Reverend’s auto.

  Opening the door I look around for Coley but don’t see ‘a. So I go back to the office, to find out where she wont me to start.

  All of a sudden the cleaning closet door bust wide open slamming against the wall, and I see a bat coming for my head. I use my tool box to shield my face. I keep moving the tool box round to guard me out the way of that bat.

  Coley screaming, “Get out! Get out!”

  When she get close enough, I push the tool box into ‘a, forcing ‘a to the wall where she cain’t move or swing that bat no more, but she fight and kick, and knee me hard where it would’ve really hurt if I was a man. Finally, I think to say, “That’s enough, woman!” Then I hear the bat hit the ground and realize we both breathing hard.

  “I think you bruised my ribs with that tool box.” She hold ‘a side.

  “Better that, than what you was trying to do to my head with that bat.” I step back from ‘a, still feeling my heart racing, and then I laugh. “You got a lot of heart.”

  “Why didn’t you say something when you came in here? And why are you here?”

  “Came to fix the things you say need fixing. Reverend Patrick told you I was coming.”

  “He said a man named Lenny.”

  “Did you even wait to see who was in here before you started swinging that bat?”

  She don’t answer, just look at me sorry for trying to take my head off.

  So I go on, “Well, the only man in Zion could go by Lenny, is Leonard, but we call him Leo or Bug. And Bug wife ain’t gone let him come fix nothing for the new young school teacher, when it’s all these single men round here to do it.”

  “Well, why didn’t one of them come?”

  “Cause Reverend Patrick asked me. Or maybe cause they know you hiding and jumping out of closets w
ith bats,” I tease, getting my bearing and looking around.

  Coley walk away from the wall where she was pinned, then goes and turns on the lights. “You can see what lights need to be replaced. And I put the desk and chairs over there that need to be tightened up.” Holding ‘a side she walks like a wounded dog.

  “I’m sorry bout ya ribs.” I watch how she moving worried I might’ve really hurt ‘a. I remember how bad I was hurt when Mama broke my ribs. “Want to go let a doctor look at you?”

  “I’ll be alright, I’m sure.” She disappears in the back again. I get the bat off the ground and put it in the cleaning closet with the other supplies, then come out and get started.

  It’s been a long while, when Coley come back in the classroom. I’m on my knees working. She slide back on ‘a desk and watch me. I tilt my hat down, so I can stop thinking bout ‘a watching me. I look through my tools, for a few screws for this last chair, I’m gone have to replace them all. This my last lil project, and I’m glad so I can get on to the store, and make my orders fore the postman come.

  “You’re the only woman I’ve ever seen in overalls.”

  “Maybe you need to get out more.”

  Laughing, “Says the country bumpkin who has never left her podunk town. Why do you like wearing pants so much?”

  “Same reason you like to ask so many questions.”

  “And why is that do you presume?”

  “Cause we wont to.” I smile, standing up from the chair and closing my tool box. “Have a good afternoon, Ms. Graham.”

  “Coley, please,” she insists following behind me. “Why do you have a man’s nickname?”

  “Why you ask impossible questions?”

  “How’s that impossible?”

  “Am I a man?”

  “Oh, Madelyn! You are impossible as your father said you are. Now I see why you will never be a lady.”

  “Who wonts to be a lady?”

  “Madelyn, why must you answer every question with a question?”

  “Linny,” I correct her, and wait silently, until she calls me by the name I asked to be addressed by.

  “It’s a man’s name,” she refuses.

  So I start out to my horse. I touch Anastasia gently. Then I start to put my tools in the saddle bag closest to me.

  “Linny?” She trying me more than accepting my wishes.

  I hesitate a little, before looking back and acknowledging her.

  “Why do you answer every question with a question?”

  “You don’t like questions?” I tease, smiling and untying Stasia.

  “Seriously,” she pouts, folding ‘a arms.

  “You seem to like questions,” I jank ‘a more, mounting Stasia. We stand firm, blocking the sun from ‘a face. Now I can see she really upset so I add, “Sometimes a question is the answer.”

  “Well, I have a few statements to make, too.” She put ‘a hands on ‘a hips.

  “That’s one right there.” I smile, me and Anastasia stepping back away from the hitching post.

  “Just because you’re out here in the country, doesn’t mean you’ve got to be stuck in the past. You’ve got that house, all that land and a store, so I know you’re not broke. You need to get yourself an automobile.”

  Moving closer to the school, I look at her, take ‘a in. I’ve never heard what anybody outside of Zion think of me. It’s interesting to say the least. Feeling that maybe she upset me, she drops ‘a hands and starts fingering ‘a skirt nervously. I just stare at ‘a, not speaking, just feeling ‘a out.

  “It’s probably because you’re a woman you don’t have an auto. I don’t know how to drive either. I don’t even know any women who do, but you live alone. Suppose something happens. Are you going to ride your horse in the middle of the night to get help?”

  Seeing she really concerned, and this something she giving real thought to I tell ‘a, “I can drive. I like my horse. And she likes me.” I rub Stasia lovingly and she lean into my hand. “Plus, getting petro to run a automobile ain’t easy. Keep you going in white towns, and the nearest filling station bout 10 miles. So most folks doing both, using wagons to lug all the petro they gone need to get around here.”

  “Somebody should open a filling station here.”

  “You should learn to ride.”

  “I’ve never considered learning to ride a horse, by myself,” she say staring at Anastasia distrustful, like she spect ‘a to run up to ‘a and bite.

  “Well you out in the country now, so you gone have to learn to ride. And something else-”

  “What?” She smiles friendly.

  “You smell nice.”

  “Thank you. What does that have to do with learning about the country?”

  “What happens when the bees and wasps think so, too?” I sniggle, turning Anastasia round and start trotting off.

  As Coley starts screaming and swatting, realizing she surrounded. Well, not really surrounded. It’s just a couple bees, but you’d swear she was fighting a whole hive way she cutting up and hollering.

  Chapter Twenty

  HAIR

  There is a gentle tap on the door, so I say, “Come in.”

  “You going to bed?” Coley ask from the doorway, wearing a big robe and a gown with ‘a hair all over ‘a head, holding a brush.

  I’m scared to answer, cause I’ve been even more busy these last few days with Coley here, and I still got my own hair to do. Not to mention, this upcoming Sunday gone be the first time I been back to church since Miemay’s funeral.

  Still for some reason I admit, “I’m gone be up awhile.”

  Now I’m parting my hair into sections so I can make four big braids. Gone comb the curl out of it, and braid it tight. Hopefully I don’t get sick going to bed with a wet head. I done lit the fireplace to keep warm.

  She sit next to me in front of the vanity, blocking the light, looking at my hair like she under some spell. I move the light in front of us, so I can see again. Reaching for my hair, she stop just before touching me and ask, “May I?”

  I nod yes and breathe out, realizing I’d completely stopped breathing when she reached. Nobody but Mrs. Harper or my sisters ever really touched me.

  She hold up a handful of hair, staring at it, then run ‘a fingers through it.

  I got my eyes closed, feeling the chills on my scalp, neck, over my arms and down my back.

  Stretching out some of the curls, she pull it to my waistline measuring the length. “Your hair is so long, and beautiful.” Then she sit up and put my hair to ‘a own waist. “I’ve never had hair pass my shoulders.” Looking at our reflections in the looking glass, she take a deep breath, and kinda shrink, smiling at me. “You’re just a beautiful girl,” she adds, and it sounds almost sad.

  “You’re beautiful, too.” I feel like I’m consoling ‘a, but what I’m saying true.

  “There’s no harm in admitting the truth, Linny. I’m not saying I’m the ugliest girl in the world. I’m just saying you are one of the most beautiful women I’ve met. Probably the most beautiful woman I’ve actually had an opportunity to build a friendship with, and I think friends should encourage each other.”

  “We friends?” I tease rather than say thank you, cause I cain’t be serious in moments like these, when folks going on and on bout how I look. Makes me feel strange to have ‘a saying all this.

  “Did you know that where I’m from, just being seen with certain women raises your status?” She ignores my uneasiness, and keeps on. “Did you know, that in almost any room you walk in with other Colored women, you would be the most desired? That’s all I’m trying to say. Your beauty can’t be denied.”

  “I don’t know about that.” I look at ‘a seriously, taking my hair back. “You the most beautiful woman I ever seen round here. Everybody round here looking something like me, Iain special or different. Feel like you the special one, the different one, the beautiful one. You got your own look, and what we here in Zion call a disposition. You sharp, cultured and
know how to make men jump to your aid. When I think about how Daddy nem was unloading your things, they had a little pep in their step.”

  “Men help women out of obligation. That’s what they’ve been taught they’re suppose to do.” She challenging what I’m saying.

  “Yeah, ain’t no arguing that round here. But when they was helping you they was honored. Honestly, I’m honored you staying here.” I stare in ‘a eyes, and it make me feel some kind of way.

  To change the subject or lighten the mood, I say, “My hair so heavy when it’s wet, I hate washing and braiding it. I think about cutting it every time I do it. I don’t never really wear it out no way. Then it'll be easier to manage, but Mama nem say it’s a sin for a woman to cut ‘a hair. They say a woman’s hair her glory. Feels like her headache, too.”

  “You’re so lucky, and don’t even know it. I’d kill to be light skinned, with green eyes and hair growing all down my back like you. Even if you don’t notice it, you even move like a queen.”

  “I don’t feel like no queen,” I’m almost whispering, getting lost in my thoughts. Then I get back to combing my hair.

  “Mind if I comb your hair?”

  Fore I know anything my heart drop, and I’m feeling all uneasy and uncomfortable. Then I look in ‘a eyes, and up at ‘a hair standing on ends and say, “Nah, I’m tender headed. And you got to do yo own hair. But that’s awfully nice of you to offer.”

  “But, I really want to,” she insist, putting some of my hair in ‘a hands, and staring back. “I’ll be gentle.”

  I breathe deep and easy, taking it all in. Feeling something new. Getting up, I go get a pillow and sit it on the floor between ‘a legs, the way I use to when Ella use to comb it.

  When ‘a hands brush my neck, or my hair move, I get covered in goose bumps. I put my knees up and rest my head on ’em to brace myself, cause it feel like Iain never been touched. She gentle like she promise, gentler than I expect, and gentler than I am with my own head. She being so gentle, I think we gone be at this all night, and Iain upset bout that neither.