by Fauna Hodel
“There is no victim. If there is anything I learned from all of this is that no matter what we start out with, we can make it into whatever we want. If she had chosen another path, who knows where I’d be.”
“And if Tamar hadn’t said that your father was ‘Negro’, where would you be?”
“That’s really the thing that hurts the most—to be lied to all these years. My whole life was a lie,” Fauna said as placed her fingers on her temples and squeezed trying to erase it from memory. “I wanted a better life, but the one I got showed me how to love unconditionally. In that sense, Tamar was right.”
CHAPTER 24
A few weeks later, Fauna’s life was interrupted by a panic call from Reno. Momma had again been rushed to the hospital—and this time it was very serious. Immediately she took Yvette out of school and boarded the next flight from San Diego, arriving at the hospital late afternoon.
The atmosphere was different this time. She gasped at the sight of Jimmie. She looked so different, so gray, so small, and so helpless. Her hair was almost gone. Her eyes were sunken into her skull making them appear larger than normal. Across her face, leading into her nose, was a long, flesh-colored tube that stretched down the side of the bed. The sight of it made Fauna take a deep breath and her eyes filled. It had only been a little over a month since she last saw Jimmie, but so much had changed.
Here, in front of her, lying helpless was her momma, a sickly old black woman. In spite of it all, Fauna loved her—loved her so deeply that only now, as her once-stony body crumbled before Fauna’s eyes, could she feel the pain that only love brings.
Jimmie was asleep, and breathing quietly. Fauna sat at the edge of her bed delicately, not wanting to disturb her peace, nor bother the other silent old woman in the next bed. She placed her hand on Jimmie’s, and with the other gently stroked her leathery forehead. It was cool and dry, unlike the normal warmth that had caressed her since she was a baby.
Later, she took Yvette, who had sat patiently nearby, over to Aunt Rosie’s house, and again she returned to her momma’s side. She spent the next twelve hours awake and alone, with only the souls of two tired old bodies resting in their respective cradles—Jimmie and the elderly woman who died in her sleep that very night. Seeing death made Fauna more determined to make Momma live so that she could give her the good life.
Before Jimmie awoke, the attendants had removed the remains of the old woman. Fauna couldn’t help but notice the surprised expression when she saw Fauna sitting.
“Patta! When did you get here?” she asked, “I didn’t know you was even coming. I had a dream ’bout you, though. It was when you was a little girl. You and Inez, both of you.” She paused and slowly turned her head toward the window. Then she continued. “’Member when you and Inez stole those little footies from the store. You both told me that someone bought them for you. I didn’t believe that, not for a minute. You just had to have those footies—with the little red balls on the toes,” With much difficulty, she began to chuckle.
“I remember,” said Fauna.”
“You thought you could pull a fast one on me. Ha! The day ain’t never came that you could get one past me. Uh, uh. Wished you could a see’d the look on your little faces when I told you I called the store and the man told me two little girls stole them footies.” She tried to laugh, but began coughing instead, “You believed that story. And we didn’t even have a phone, we was so poor, and you two little goddamn shits were so dumb. You fell for it and confessed.”
“I know. We were so stupid. That was a long time ago.”
“Yeah, sure was. Lots happened since then. And there’s lots more you don’t know about.”
Fauna was curious. Jimmie had said that so many times to her and never told her what she was talking about. She asked again, “Like what Momma? What is it that you’ve been promising to tell me?”
“Never you mind. One a these days, before I die, I’ll tell you the real reason why you could never change your name. There’s a whole lot you don’t understand. It involves you inheriting a lot of money,” she paused a moment to swallow, “All my life I wanted to be somebody. Here I am at the end, and I’m still a nobody.”
“You are somebody! You’re a very important somebody—you’re my Momma.”
“Yeah, but that didn’t make me the good life. I could’ve been just like any of those famous people who had money. Like that Dorothy Dandridge, I was prettier than her, too.”
“You’re still pretty, Momma. That’s never gonna change.”
“I could never figure out how they did it. Having you around, a little pinky-skinned baby—should’ve let them white folks know a little more. But it was too dangerous. They would’ve taken you away, real quick like. If it wasn’t for the chauffeur, you’d been out of my life long ago.”
“The chauffeur? What chauffeur?”
Jimmie looked up at Fauna, “The one you almost met a few years ago. He hadn’t been a chauffeur for a long, long time, but every once in a while he’d like to pretend he was. He was always trying to be young again and doing something different.” She paused a moment, and then added, “He liked me, too—cause I was different.”
“I don’t know any chauffeur.”
“Well, he knows you; been watching you all your life. Keeping an eye out, too. If someone bothered you, he’d know about it. And if something ever happened to you, well God help the poor soul who did it.”
“Who is he? Why haven’t I met him?”
“Well, when you was a baby, he had to leave the country. Somehow he knew something about some white girl getting hacked up in California or some place. But when he came back, he didn’t want nothing to do with me, but he was always knowing about you.”
As she talked, she seemed to be getting weaker. It wasn’t much, just the way she moved her head. There was slightly less quiver in her voice.
Over the next week, she did improve—considerably. In fact, enough so that she thought it was safe for Fauna to return to San Diego and get Yvette back in school. So, with Momma recovering, she returned home to Billy, who was becoming more frustrated at her sudden departures.
On Friday afternoon, Jimmie called from the hospital. Her voice was very weak. She said the doctors didn’t give her much chance. Fauna panicked and again dashed to Reno to be at her side. Just the thought of Momma dying put her in a state of sheer terror. However, she discovered to her relief that Jimmie was no worse off then when she had left her a week earlier.
Jimmie continued her deceptive tactics, trying unmercifully to separate Fauna from Billy. Her jealousy never waned for a moment. She wanted Fauna with her always, and dreaded the thought of Patta not being forever at her side even more so than death itself. Fauna made dozens of urgent trips back and forth between San Diego and Reno. Billy and she argued each time.
“Why do you keep falling for that crazy woman’s story?” he screamed. “You know what she’s trying to do. She’s trying to destroy our marriage. And you can’t let her do that. You’re the only one who can stop her. Just tell her! ‘No, you crazy old nigger, you ain’t dying, and I ain’t coming!’ Just tell her, tell her!”
“I can’t. She’s my momma! What if I don’t go, and she dies? What do you think I’ll be like then?”
He turned away from her and she could see that he was angry and frustrated. He turned to her and said, “It’s a game with her. She’s fuckin’ with your mind; can’t you see that? Look, just don’t go this time. Just tell her you have other things to do.”
Fauna was apprehensive and scared. Billy was probably right, but she didn’t know, she just didn’t know. That night, Jimmie called again. Fauna answered the phone and Billy glared at her. He knew who was on the other end before she even said hello.
“Hi, Momma, how are you feeling?” she turned away from Billy. His stare was making her uncomfortable.
“Oh, Patta,” she sounded so weak and old, “I thought you’d be here by now. Oh my God! Why you still there? Why ain’t you w
ith your poor old Momma? You’ve got to come. There’s something I got to tell you before I go.”
She felt so guilty, “Momma what is it? What do you want to say to me?” Before Momma could answer, she glanced up at Billy. “I can’t come this time, Momma. I was just there. Why didn’t you tell me then?”
“Oh, Patta, you just got to come.”
Fauna began to cry. Billy rose from his chair and knelt next to her. His hand gently touched her shoulder.
“Good-bye, Momma, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She hung up the phone, left Billy alone on his knees, and cried herself to sleep.
The night was restless. She tossed and turned. The next morning she told Billy about it.
“Last night, I had this dream, over and over again. Momma was there with me, alive! It was real, I swear. She looked at me, almost as if she could see into my soul, she said in a very sweet tone, ‘Patta, I’m gonna die.’ I said, ‘No Momma, you’re not gonna die, you’re gonna get better, you’ll see.’ She said, ‘Patta, I’m gonna die—before Christmas.’”
Billy was annoyed. He took a deep breath and said, “Well, what do you think it means? Is she gonna die?”
“Oh no,” said Fauna, “I think it means just the opposite. I think she’s gonna live. I don’t accept it for its face value. She’s gonna live. But I’m still gonna go to Reno to see her.”
“What? I thought we went all through this shit last night! I thought for once, you were going to use a little reason, a little common sense. Now you have a dream that you believe is telling you that she’s gonna live, and you’re going to fly up to her again! What the hell is wrong with you?”
“There’s nothing wrong with me! She’s my mother. What’s wrong with you? Can’t you understand that?”
“Fauna, you’re not going up there. You’ve been in Reno more than you’ve been with me. I’m your husband—remember? What the hell kind of a marriage is this?”
“Our marriage has nothing to do with this!”
“Fauna, I’ve had it! It’s finished! If you get on that plane, I won’t be here when you get back.”
Her face went cold and stiff. She felt the shock and anger. He was willing to abandon her at a time like this, a time when she needed his support and understanding the most. She shot back coldly, without reservation, “I can always get a new husband, but I’ve only got one mother.”
He stared blankly, almost as if paralyzed. She left for Reno that day.
When Fauna arrived at the hospital, she was upset. She felt very strongly that Momma would recover. She wouldn’t allow anything to happen to her—there were too many things left incomplete. She hadn’t given her the best that life has to offer—she hadn’t given her a nice home, or plenty of clothes, or vacations, or the best medical attention.
The situation with Billy, however, was another story. It was true that she was neglecting their relationship. She was too involved with Momma. Still, Billy’s reaction had surprised her and she was upset.
She went directly to Jimmie’s room without bothering to check in at the desk. Everyone was used to seeing her around, anyway. But the bed where Momma had stayed over the past weeks was empty. Stunned, she walked closer to make sure that it was the same room. It was. Everything was exactly as she left it the last time, except Momma wasn’t there. The worst of thoughts raced through her mind. Quickly, she rushed to the nurse’s station, demanding, “Where’ve you taken her mother? She’s not in her bed! Is something wrong?”
The nurse was startled, “Oh, Mrs. Sharp. They had to move your mother. She’s downstairs, on the basement level.”
“What? Oh my God!” She didn’t wait to find out why. She rushed down the hallway toward the stairway exit. Her emotions were scrambled; her heart was pounding. When she reached the bottom floor, she searched frantically from room to room, not waiting to ask a nurse where they had taken her momma. In the fourth room she entered, she saw Momma, so fragile, so tiny, unconscious. But Fauna’s eyes were immediately drawn to the opposite side of the room. The small window near the top of the wall cast a light across the face and shoulders of a beautiful black woman who was sitting up in her bed, wearing the customary green hospital gown. Fauna glanced back at her momma, but only for a moment. Her eyes were drawn back to the other woman, and this time she looked more carefully. The woman’s reddened eyes were full of hatred. The tense muscles in her face cast shadows. Her arms were bound with straps to the steel frames of the bed railings. As Fauna stared, the woman became even more irate, and with a burst of energy quickly lunged forward, only to have the restraints frustrate her movement. Fauna stepped back closer to the head of Jimmie’s bed, and kept a cautious eye on the woman.
Jimmie was asleep, or in a coma; she didn’t know which. Her hair, once thick, black and wavy, was now sparse, stringy and full of scabs. The color was gone and through the dull gray Fauna could see her blotchy brown scalp. Jimmie was frail, and bedsores covered her body. Slowly she moved, just a wee bit, almost as though she felt Fauna’s presence. Fauna held her small, delicate body in her arms. She feared a hug would break a bone. She rocked her very gently, and stroked her soft cheeks, whispering, “I love you, Momma.”
She stayed with her for over an hour, trying to ignore the hostile woman in the other bed, who was now a bit calmer, but still staring and still angry, yet not saying a word.
Fauna left Jimmie’s side crying and went into the small bathroom in the room. There, she closed the door and fell to her knees begging God and her angels to save her momma. She prayed with all of her heart, offering her own life for Momma’s, letting God know that she would sacrifice anything for Momma.
A half-hour of continuous and fervent prayer changed nothing; Momma was still the same. Throughout the evening and all the next day, Fauna was in and out of Momma’s room. She prayed with all her strength. She only left for the most necessary tasks—to go check with the doctor, or to check on Yvette, or to call Billy, or get something to eat. At no time did she ever reach Billy at home. She was worried and at the same time felt resentment toward Billy for insisting that she stay in San Diego this last time when Momma needed her most. In a way, she was glad that he didn’t answer the phone.
When she entered Jimmie’s room on the third day, the mad woman was exceptionally militant. She was screaming, cursing, throwing a temper tantrum, hampered only by the restraints, or maybe because of them, she didn’t care which. But Fauna felt the hostility and it frightened her. Jimmie was sick enough without having to deal with a half-crazed patient. When she could take no more, Fauna went to the nurse’s station and demanded that something be done with that woman.
A middle-aged nurse, with brown hair and big hips, walked back with Fauna to the room and confronted the screaming woman trying to calm her down with a soft but firm tone. Fauna returned to Momma’s side and held her hand, keeping a vigilant eye on the disruptive scene. Within about five minutes the woman was more relaxed—still harnessed, but less emotional.
Suddenly, Jimmie reached up from her bed with both hands outstretched. Fauna was startled and elated. Jimmie’s eyes were half-opened, looking directly into her daughter’s. The nurse noticed Jimmie, who had not moved since she was moved into this room, and quickly came to the foot of her bed. Fauna raised her and held her frail body in an upright but slouched position. Jimmie stared at Fauna and tried to speak. Her dry mouth could barely utter a sound. Momma wouldn’t take her eyes from Fauna’s.
Fauna was filled to the bursting point with emotion.
“Momma,” she said softly, “what is it?”
She again tried to speak, but the words would not come, only a slight “puhh” could be heard from the awkward motion of her cracked lips.
“She loves you,” the nurse whispered.
Fauna whispered to her Momma, “What did you say?”
The nurse’s eyes were glassy. She stood holding onto the edge of the bed. “She said she loves you. I can tell by the look in her eyes. She really loves you. She wants your forgiven
ess.”
“Oh Momma, I love you. And I forgive you. Please forgive me. Please.”
Tears streamed down Fauna’s face as she held her close, kissed her forehead, and then placed her gently down on the pillow. “I promise you, Momma, I will make the good life for you. I will make you famous. I will make you a star. Everyone will know Pretty Jimmie Lee, everyone.”
Slowly Jimmie’s eyelids opened, radiating just the slightest hint of life. She coughed again and closed her eyes.
Fauna stood at her Momma’s bedside with her head down. She watched the rise and fall of her mother’s breath. She cried for her momma’s life. She thought of nothing else but of God allowing her momma to get better, not worse. She couldn’t bear the thought of her momma leaving this world.
Fauna was overwrought. Her knees began to quiver, signaling the need for her to sit down. She again went into the tiny bathroom and prayed to God for Momma’s salvation. She knew now, from looking deep into those once fearsome yet loving eyes that her momma was going to die and there was nothing she could do. It was time.
She knelt down on the hard tile floor. Her knees were raw, but she couldn’t move. Fauna wept aloud, letting all of her pent-up feelings burst forth; it seemed like every shred of anger and frustration. All of her muscles melted into a flaccid heap. And when she thought it was finally over, and there was nothing left in her reservoir of tears, she again exploded in a shower of grief, reliving all the pain of losing her momma. Her body ached from the convulsions and she fell to the floor.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, she heard the harrowing screams of the other black woman; this time more frightening than before. Quickly, she calmed herself and washed the mascara and eye makeup from her face, trying to look composed. She left the bathroom and glanced at Momma, she was limp, just as before. The kind nurse was gone. Fauna turned to the nightmarish sounds of the mad woman and watched her, just for a moment, lurching and twitching in her useless quest for freedom. Fauna could no longer stay in that room with either one of them, she left them both to their fate.