Over the Fence

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Over the Fence Page 15

by Mary Monroe


  We all laughed.

  “If you think this place is nice, wait until you see my family’s store. It’s the only one in Branson that is owned by colored folks,” Joyce gloated.

  I had hoped we’d get through the day without her tooting her horn about her blessed life. I knew she’d eventually tune up her mouth to ease in a bunch of comments about Odell. She started up on him as soon as we walked through MacPherson’s front door.

  “My husband manages the store, and he is so sharp, everybody in town looks up to him. Even white folks.”

  “You look up to him, too, Cousin Yvonne?” JJ asked.

  “Uh-huh,” I admitted.

  CHAPTER 24

  YVONNE

  I WAS SO HAPPY THAT ODELL’S TWO NOSY CASHIERS HAD A BUNCH OF customers to check out, so they couldn’t slow us down. A couple of stock boys was shuffling around with boxes and whatnot, but we ignored them all and marched in single file behind Joyce toward the back of the store. All the way, the kids was oohing and aahing at all the nice things on the shelves. We stood off to the side as Joyce pushed open the door to Odell’s office.

  “Odell, there is some children here itching to see you!” she hollered.

  Even from where I was, I could hear Odell gasp. Something crashed to the floor, and he rushed over to Joyce. “Huh? W-what children?” I couldn’t understand why he was acting and sounding so nervous. He loved kids as much as Joyce.

  She ushered us into the office. On the floor there was a lamp in pieces, which had to be what I heard crash. Odell glanced from me to my children and blinked. “Yvonne, these your cousins I done heard so much about?” he asked, sounding and looking relieved, which confused me. I couldn’t understand why he had reacted in such a odd way when Joyce told him some children had come to see him.

  “Yup.” I introduced each one. To my surprise, they took to Odell like ducks to water.

  He shook hands with my boys and patted Cherie on top of her head. “You taller than Joyce! And look at them wide shoulders!” she commented with a frisky grin, which was too much like flirting in my book.

  “Mr. Odell, can we have some candy?” JJ asked.

  “Sure enough! Let’s go out to the main floor, and y’all can pick out anything you want.”

  The kids squealed like pigs and followed him to the aisle where the candy and toys was located.

  “I didn’t know Odell would be this excited to spend time with kids he just met,” Joyce commented. Me and her walked a few feet behind him and the kids. “I just wish . . .” She stopped talking and turned to me with a sad expression on her face. “I just wish I could give him a few so he wouldn’t feel so left out as a man.”

  “Why do you think not having kids of his own make him feel left out?”

  “Yvonne, I knew from the get-go how often he dreamed about being a daddy. I hope I can make his dream come true before my baby-making equipment shuts down.”

  For the next hour, Odell let the kids pick out all the toys, candy, and clothes they wanted. We had too many bags to carry on the bus, so he insisted on driving us home. During the ride, with the kids squeezed together on the front seat with him, he conversated with them about school and what they wanted to be when they grew up. Then they started asking him all kinds of questions and heaping praises on him, too.

  “How come you ain’t got no kids, Mr. Odell?” Cherie wanted to know, squirming like a maggot on Ishmael’s lap. “You don’t want none?”

  Them questions must have really caught him off guard, because he almost ran up on the sidewalk. “Huh? I love kids. Me and Joyce plan on having a bunch someday,” he mumbled.

  “How did y’all get so old and not have none by now?” Ishmael asked.

  “Well, it takes a while for some folks,” Odell answered with a nervous cough.

  “Mr. Odell, I wish you was my daddy!” JJ zoomed in. “You the best man in the world.”

  “Sure enough!” Ishmael agreed.

  “And the best-looking one I ever seen,” Cherie swooned. “Ain’t he, Cousin Yvonne?”

  “Um . . . yes, he is,” I agreed.

  “I’m going to marry a man just like you, Mr. Odell,” Cherie added.

  “Now, y’all calm down. I ain’t that special,” he chuckled.

  “Yes you are, baby,” Joyce cooed. She leaned forward and reached up and squeezed his shoulder. He turned around for a second and winked at her. I thought that if me and the kids hadn’t been in that car, they would have pulled to the side of the road and pleasured each other in the backseat.

  When she turned back to me, her tone was dry. “Too bad Milton didn’t take today off. I’m sure Odell would have let him pick out a few complimentary items. Lord knows he could sure use some better-looking shoes and aftershave that doesn’t smell like kerosene. The next time, make him take off so he can come with us, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  It was a blessing Milton hadn’t come. Listening to the kids praise Odell would have been torture for him. I suddenly missed my man and couldn’t wait for him to come home so I could show him some love.

  * * *

  When we got to my house, Odell helped us carry everything inside. Before he went back to work, Cherie hugged his neck, and the boys shook his hand. Odell grinned and carried on like these was the first kids he’d ever been around. Right after he left, Joyce gave me the most desperate look I’d ever seen on her face.

  “See what I’m talking about? Odell has so much love for children, he deserves to be a daddy more than any man I ever knew.” Her tone sounded so hopeless. But a few seconds later, she perked back up. “Let’s take the kids to my house so I can give them some tea cakes. You and I can have a drink.”

  While the kids was at Joyce’s kitchen table, eating tea cakes, me and Joyce sat down on the living-room couch and started drinking some of her weak elderberry wine. I wanted a shot of the good whiskey Joyce and Odell served their special guests, but I was too proud to ask for some. Besides that, I couldn’t drink nothing too strong while my babies was still with me, because it would stay on my breath for hours. It was already after four o’clock. If my aunt and uncle returned at seven or sooner, they would smell it, and there was no telling when they’d bring the kids to see me again.

  “I had so much fun with y’all today,” Joyce told me with a woeful look in her eyes. “Kids are such a blessing. I fell in love with your sweet angels.”

  Her comments made me feel warm all over. “I can’t wait to have them back all to myself.”

  I wondered if I had misjudged her and if she was not as mean spirited as I had thought. That thought had crossed my mind before. But almost every time, she had said something that made me reconsider. This time was no different.

  “No offense, Yvonne, but when I become a mother, we’ll probably move. And we won’t be visiting this neighborhood too often.”

  I tensed up, because I had no idea what she was leading up to this time. “Huh? Why? I thought y’all liked this location.”

  “We do. But things have changed a lot since we moved here. Things that are giving the neighborhood a bad name . . .”

  “You talking about Janey Hemphill, that bug-eyed old lady across the street, with them eight cats that run wild all over the block? And the fat man next door to her, who waters his grass in his pajamas, with the crack of his butt showing? I agree with you. Their antics is giving the whole block a bad name.” I groaned and shook my head.

  Joyce went on with a deadpan expression on her face. “Those things were happening before y’all moved over here. I’m talking about something a little more personal.” She got quiet and scanned my face for at least five seconds.

  “Don’t go mute on me now. Tell me what that ‘personal’ thing is.”

  “Well, I’ve already mentioned to you that Odell is particular, especially when it comes to family. He is devoted to his daddy and never complains about all the sacrifices he has to make to spend so much time with him. And you saw how he behaved with your kids today. He
has told me more than once that nothing is more precious than children and that it’s our responsibility to keep them away from bad influences. Especially bootleggers and other riffraff . . .”

  “But you and Odell spend a lot of time around bootleggers and other riffraff.”

  “That’s different. We’re grown and know how to handle things like that. Kids don’t.”

  Mine was still in the kitchen and couldn’t hear us, but I lowered my voice, anyway. “How do you know you’ll ever have any if you ain’t had none by now?” That put a woeful look on her face.

  “I’ll have some eventually, God willing.”

  “We ain’t never had no trouble at our house with our guests. Me and Milton is quiet, mature, God-fearing people. We don’t do nothing that would make us look half as bad as some of the heathens in this town.”

  “Not yet,” Joyce eased in, wagging her finger in my face. She was lucky I didn’t bite it off. I held my breath as she continued. “On top of y’all being bootleggers and best friends with a snaggletoothed hillbilly who makes his living operating a still, you and Milton are ex-convicts. All that could be a recipe for disaster if there were young kids in the mix. If you could put yourself in my shoes—and Odell’s—I’m sure you’d feel the same way.”

  I was so stunned, it felt like my brain had froze up. I didn’t care how nice a day we had had and how much free merchandise Odell had let us take, I wanted to slap Joyce. I had to keep reminding myself that no matter what spewed out of her mouth or what she did—so long as it wasn’t too extreme—I couldn’t end our relationship until me and Milton had got all we could from them. “I’m sorry to hear that you don’t want the kids you might have someday to get close to me and Milton.” It was hard, but I managed to keep my voice firm. I didn’t want her to know how weak she made me feel. “I was eager to introduce my kids to you and Odell because I wanted them to see the kind of high-class folks me and Milton associate with.”

  Joyce held up her hand and tried to backpedal. It was too late, though. She’d already slid into the hole she’d just dug with her mouth. “And I really appreciate that. The next time they come, we’ll do something else they’ll enjoy. If I ever get up enough nerve to learn how to drive, I’ll take the car from Odell and drive you to Mobile to visit with them. I’ll even pay for all the gas and whatever it costs for us to have a good time.”

  Her gentle tone, fake smile, and generous offer helped a little. But I was still upset, and I wanted her to feel a little pain, too. I knew that not being a mother was a sensitive issue with Joyce. I decided to run with that. “I’m glad to hear that you have so much love for the kids you might never have. I feel so sorry for you . . .”

  She started off talking again in a tone so low I could barely hear her. “If I never have any children, only God knows how I’ll be able to go on. And poor Odell. He’d never admit it, but I know he’d be truly disappointed in me if I never give him some children.”

  I rubbed her shoulder. I was angry and sad for her at the same time. “You need to stop harping on this subject. I’m sorry we got on it in the first place. I can see how hard it is on you. Just be thankful that at least you got Odell.”

  “I am, praise the Lord.” She took a sip from her wineglass, and her eyes got glassy. “I still can’t believe I’m married to such an incredible man. He gets better each day, bless his heart.”

  I’d drunk enough to have a mild buzz, which was all you could expect from something as spiritless as elderberry wine. It helped keep me from saying something sarcastic. I stayed quiet and just stared upside Joyce’s head, wondering what stupid thing she was brewing up to say next.

  With a smug look on her face, she started talking again. “I know I’ve told you this before, but I’ll tell you again. You’d be so much better off if you’d married a man like Odell.”

  “And I’ll tell you again. Milton is the only man I ever really loved.”

  “Oh well.” She hunched her shoulders and paused before adding with a sneer, “I’ll pray for you. Have some more wine. It’ll make you feel better about your situation.”

  “That’s all right. I done drunk enough. And, anyway, I don’t need to feel better about my situation. It’s just the way I want it to be.” I gave her the most contented look I could come up with. “Me and the kids better be on our way. I need to have supper ready when Milton come home.” I couldn’t collect my children and leave fast enough.

  CHAPTER 25

  MILTON

  ALL DAY LONG I HAD BEEN PRAYING THAT I’D FIND SOMEBODY willing to give me a ride to a house where some high-rolling gamblers was supposed to be playing at this evening. At quitting time, I hung around the grill, shooting the breeze with the cleanup crew, still praying somebody with a car would mosey along. God must have been listening, because as I was walking to the bus stop, Willie Frank’s truck came barreling down the road toward me, kicking up more dust than a sandstorm. He pulled to the side and stopped on a dime next to me, with his brakes squealing like a woman making mad love. From the frantic look on his face and the way his cap was sitting sideways on his head when he leaned out the window, I knew something bad was up.

  “Great balls of fire! Thank God I found you!” he hollered. “We got a mess on our hands.”

  “Oh shit! What’s wrong?”

  “Anybody come at you?”

  I did a double take. “Come at me? Who . . . What in the world is going on, Willie Frank? You act like Satan chasing you.”

  “That could be the case.” He wiped sweat and dust off his face and peered up and down the road. When his eyes shifted back to me, he looked even more distressed. “Get in so we can talk.”

  I snatched open the passenger door and scrambled in. He made a U-turn and shot off back down the road before I could even shut the door all the way.

  “Man, you scaring me. What’s the problem?”

  “That Eugene we sold the stuff to is the problem. Guess who he’s related to?”

  I hunched my shoulders. “I don’t know. I just met him for the first time when you took me to his house to unload them goods we stole from Oscar. Why?”

  “Oscar’s sister is his common-law wife. Him and Eugene got a lot of bad blood between them and is always trying to outdo each other. Eugene didn’t waste no time going out to Oscar’s farm to show off his equipment. Well, you can guess where I’m going with this.”

  “And Oscar recognized his own stuff, huh?”

  “Sure enough. Eugene told him right off who he bought it from.”

  “Shit!” My heart started thumping like mad, and I was having trouble breathing. “Who told you?”

  “Sweet Sue, that new gal Aunt Mattie hired last week. I had a little fun with her a little while ago. Oscar had paid her a visit before I got there, and he told her.”

  “Hmmm. Let me think.” I scratched the side of my head, and a idea suddenly came to me. “I got it!”

  “Well, I’m all ears, so give it to me,” Willie Frank advised.

  “We can say we bought that stuff from somebody and didn’t know it was hot.”

  “We can say that, but it sounds pretty flimsy, even to me.”

  “Not if we tell it right. Oscar mentioned that only his field hands knew where he hid his stuff, remember? Jerome and Amos?”

  “So?”

  “So they could have stole it and sold it to us. We can say that. And if Oscar told them and us, there ain’t no telling who else he told.”

  “I never thought about that, but you got a good point there.”

  “No, wait! We’ll leave Jerome’s name out. We’ll lay the blame all on Amos, the slow-witted alcoholic. From what folks say about him, he is a good worker, but his mind is a hodgepodge when it come to anything else. He wouldn’t remember if he stole the stuff or not. We’ll spread the news around that Amos traded it to us for some white lightning and refused to tell us where he got it from. Remember now, Oscar never showed us nothing, so for all he know, we ain’t got no idea what it look like. How was
we supposed to know Amos had double-crossed his own boss? Anyway, as fast as news travel in this town, it’s bound to get to Oscar before he get to us. It’ll be our word against Amos’s. Who do you think he’ll believe? Well-respected, bona fide businessmen like us or a man with mush for a brain?”

  “Well, Milton, that plan sounds as good as anything else we could come up with.” I was happy to see that Willie Frank didn’t look so rattled now.

  “Sure enough. Pull over and let me out for a minute. You had me so riled up, my bladder went crazy.”

  “Don’t you want to wait until we get to a cornfield, so you can have some privacy? There is one coming up in a few minutes.”

  “I can’t wait that long,” I insisted, squeezing my thighs together.

  Willie Frank stopped and left the motor running while I got out to go pee. Before I could finish, another truck rolled down the road behind us. I recognized it right off. It was Oscar’s, and Eugene was riding shotgun! I let out a yelp and crouched down until they passed. I finished peeing and jumped back in the truck. Willie Frank was slumped sideways in his seat. He seemed more stressed now than he’d been when he picked me up. And so was I.

  “Woo-wee! Did you see who that was?”

  “Sure enough,” Willie Frank croaked, sitting back up. “They didn’t recognize my truck, praise the Lord. As soon as I spotted them, I ducked. We need to lay low until we get that rumor up on its feet that we did business with Amos. If we lucky, by the time we see Oscar or Eugene again, they’ll have chastised that slow wit and we’ll be in the clear.”

  “Good.”

  I looked down the road and was glad to see that Oscar’s truck had reached the crossroads and turned off. I was surprised to see so much more sweat on Willie Frank’s face. He seemed as scared as I was, and he didn’t need to be. Even if Oscar could prove Willie Frank had something to do with the theft, he knew that confronting a white man—especially one in Willie Frank’s position—could get him lynched. For that reason, my butt was the one on the line. But being my sidekick, I knew Willie Frank was going to help me get through this mess alive.

 

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