Then Sings My Soul Read online

  Suddenly he said, "I know you from somewhere." He stared at her like an artist preparing to paint her portrait.

  "I do that sometimes myself. I see a face and think I know that person," she laughed nervously. "Turns out we all have doubles or so I've heard." She noticed he no longer looked drunk. And the longer he stared, the more uncomfortable she felt.

  "I never forget a face." He seemed to be trying hard to place her. Time for me to go before he remembers, she thought.

  After draining his cup, he rose. "I gotta take a leak. Be right back." He got up with a bit more energy than he had before. As soon as she heard him reliving himself, she made for the door, slipped out and hurried to her car. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was after 2 A.M. As she headed for the freeway she said aloud, "A wasted evening." She plunged her hand into her purse in search of her pack of cigarettes and instead, pulled out the slip of paper she'd taken from Manny's dresser. Maybe not completely wasted, she thought as she scanned it.

  Chapter 44 - Tricia

  Momma got in real late. I heard the door open, but I didn't feel like getting up. She didn't turn on any lights, just went to bed. The next morning she told us about her evening.

  "You coulda been killed," Shanell said.

  "Momma, you're always telling us to be careful and you just followed this man and went to his house." I shook my head. I was mad. "If anything had happened to you..."

  "Well, it didn't." Momma said. "I shouldn't have told you."

  "So what do we do now?" Shanell asked.

  "You two don't do anything except go to school and get your education. The term's almost over, Tricia's about to graduate. You let me worry about this. Now run along to school before you're late."

  School, yeah. Only a two weeks to go and with luck, I'll be walking down the aisle to get my diploma. It didn't seem real yet that I'd be graduating soon. I'd managed to pull up my grades and with final exams coming, I needed to spend all my spare time studying. But I was worried about Momma and this thing with Donald.

  Me and Shanell had dinner ready by the time Momma got home.

  "How's Ma’dear?" she asked as soon as she settled down.

  Each day Ma’dear seemed a little better. She was staying awake longer and even putting together a few words. The nurse says she's even got Ma’dear to take a few steps. Once school is out, Momma said we have to let the nurse go because she can't afford her much longer. I guess we'll have to take care of her during the summer until Momma can figure something else out.

  I hadn't told anybody not even Shanell about that time with Hi C though I hadn't forgotten about it. At first it felt like everybody was looking at me. Then I realized nobody could tell that I'd almost been raped. I never got up enough nerve to tell Darien about that night, and he never asked. He'd call and we'd talk on the phone, but for some reason, every time he asked me out, I'd make up some excuse not to go. I'd tell him I had to study or Momma wanted me to do something, or I'd have to take care of Ma’dear. He said he understood and didn't press me. I wondered how long I could keep making excuses. One day I'd have to tell him.

  As far as my singing career went, I'd put that in the back of my mind. Whenever I'd think about it, Hi C would pop into my head like a sour note.

  "What's this?" Mama said, spreading the newspaper out on the table. "MAN FOUND DEAD IN THE PARKING LOT OF THE SILVER SPOON." She held her breath.

  "They're always finding people dead somewhere," Shanell said. She reached over and tried to take the newspaper from Momma. "Can I read my horoscope?"

  "Who?" I asked noticing the shocked look on Momma's face.

  "Manfield Jones found dead in his car at the Silver Spoon, shot three times in the head..." Momma read.

  "Did you know him?" Shanell asked.

  "He's the man Momma told us about. I'm getting scared." I felt my heart pounding.

  "Me, too," Shanell echoed.

  "You all don't have anything to worry about." Momma tried to reassure us, but I could tell she wasn't feeling too comfortable about it either.

  "The last thing he said was that he just wanted to go back South and buy some land."

  "Shouldn't we go to the police?" I asked.

  "It's not a "we" problem. You and Shanell are not involved. It's Donald's problem. He dragged us into it. Now I've got to get us out of it. Go to the police? What would I tell them? That Manfield Jones tried to steal my purse and then I drove him home after he'd had too much to drink? They'd think I'd lost my mind or worse; that I had something to do with his death. Don't forget, they're still looking for two women in connection with Foster's death. No, I can't go to the police."

  "But Momma," I said. "Suppose one of those men in the Silver Spoon comes looking for you."

  "You let me worry about that."

  When I suggested she tell Kevin, she said she didn't want him involved. I could see she had her mind made up. There wasn't anything me and Shanell could do.

  A week went by and one evening Momma came home from work and told us she'd been laid off.

  "I'm glad it's finally happened. Having it hang over my head like a brick waiting to fall hasn't been easy. At least now I can get on with other things. Maybe I can finish school quicker and take the paralegal exam.

  "I'll be out of school soon and I can look for a job and help with the bills," I said. She smiled and went in to see how Ma’dear was. We sat down that night and Momma discussed ways we could manage our finances. Along with a cut in our allowances, and no more buying lunch at school, the nurse would have to be let go sooner than she'd planned.

  "Since I'm going to be home, until I can find another job, I'll take care of Ma’dear."

  One thing we never talked about since Ma’dear came to live with us, but something I noticed and that was Momma's relationship with her mother. It seemed like even though she looked in on Ma’dear every evening when she came home, she never spent any time with her like Shanell and me. I asked her once why she never talked to Ma’dear like Shanell and I did. She said something like she had nothing to say. It'd all been said years ago. I suspect that whatever happened between them must have been heavy. So when she said she'd be taking care of Ma’dear, I was surprised.

  *****

  Staying home every day seemed to be wearing on Momma; actually, on all of us. At first it was great because every morning she'd have our lunch made to take to school and when we got home she'd cooked a fancy meal. We didn't have chores to do because Momma took care of them. The apartment was sparkling.

  Every day she'd take Ma’dear to the park. And sometimes when I got in from school, Ma’dear would be sitting in the living room. Sometimes I'd even hear her and Momma having a conversation together. I didn't know what they were saying, but at least they were talking.

  Soon though, Momma seemed to be getting restless. She said her unemployment check hadn't started yet, and her savings were getting low, she needed to start going out to look for a job. It had been a while since she mentioned Donald, Mr. Foster, or Manfield Jones. I was glad. I didn't want any distractions. Studying all the time was paying off for me. Final exams were next week.

  Chapter 45 - Ma’dear

  "How could you do this to me, Mama!" Hazel waved a letter in my face. "How could you take my mail and rip it up. You got no right!"

  "Don't you tell me what I can and can't do. Just who do you think you're talking to, Miss Sassy? Just because you're eighteen you think you're too grown to be slapped. Now just get out of my face."

  I turned away and went back to frying chicken knowing full well she was right. I heard the door slam. Probably gone down to her friend Benita's house like she always do whenever she's mad. My thoughts went back to the letter. How could I have missed that one? I was the only one with the mailbox key. At first chance, I checked for it in my purse. It was still there on the key ring with all the other keys.

  I went to Hazel's room and there was the letter on her dresser. I picked it up and knowing I was in the wrong, I read it. "It was so
good hearing from you after all these years. I wondered why you never answered my letters." So, that was how Hazel knew. Then I remembered. The other day she asked if she could pick up the mail. I don't know where my mind was but I told her to get the keys from my purse.

  After that day with the letter, Hazel became a different person. We were drifting even further apart. Not long after, when I came in from work, I found a note saying that she had run away. I called Melvin. He had joined the Air Force and was stationed in North Carolina.

  "Well, Ma. She's eighteen, which means she's grown. There's nothing the police can do."

  I didn't tell him the real reason she'd run away. I didn't tell him that it was because of the fight we had over Tyreshia. We had a terrible battle. She even accused me of being responsible for Sadie's death. She said Tyreshia found out that I had something to do with my best friend's death. Said she hated me and didn't care if she never saw me again. The next day, she was gone.

  I had a dream one night about Willie Joe and Sadie. I dreamed about the good times in Harlem, the house rent parties, and the dances at Rockland Palace and the Savoy. I remember the times we went to the Apollo Theatre to see Buck and Bubbles and Moms Mabley. Those were happy times. When I woke up, I knew I had to find Hazel and explain.

  The people I worked for, Dr. and Mrs. Winters, were going on vacation soon and I knew if I asked Mrs. Winters, she'd let me go for a few days. They'd be closing down the house anyway until they came back.

  A few days later, I boarded the Greyhound bus to Baltimore and armed with an address Edna had given me, I took a taxi there. The taxi stopped in front of an old run down looking rooming house. I stood for a moment looking up at the three-story building. It seemed like every one of them large windows was open and people had their heads stuck out. It was the noisiest place I'd been to in a long while. Children playing out in the street, running every whichaway, cars honking and zipping up and down the street, music blaring.

  I walked up the stairs and knocked on the first door I came to. I heard a baby crying. After a few minutes, somebody yelled, "Who is it!" A young girl about seven years old opened and peeked up at me, her face stained with dirt. I asked for Edna's room.

  "Don't nobody named Edna live here." She slammed the door in my face. I knocked on another door and another until finally, an old lady in a wheel chair told me that a woman named Edna with a strange acting daughter use to live there but had moved.

  "Don't know where."

  I had run into a blank wall. Disappointed, not knowing where to turn, I took the bus back home. My baby was gone and I didn't know where to look. Yes, she was eighteen, but that didn't make no difference. She was still my child.

  The feeling of hopelessness gradually went away. As they say, "Time heals all wounds," and even though I missed her, I had to go on with my life. Somehow I knew she was all right and that she'd come home when she needed me.

  Little did I know how true that statement was. Eight months later, when I got home from work one evening, so tired I could hardly drag myself up the steps, who should be sitting outside my door but a very pregnant Hazel.

  "Mama, I'm sorry," was all she said. She didn't have to say any more. I was so happy to see her; my tiredness seemed to disappear. I didn't ask her about her pregnancy or where she'd been. It wasn't important. We didn't say anything about Tyreshia either.

  It didn't matter. My baby was back and she needed me. We needed each other. A month later, Tricia was born.

  Chapter 46 - Shanell

  Shanell was feeling out of sorts. She'd stayed home from school on the pretense of being sick. Actually, she hadn't been able to sleep and had been awake most of the night. At first Hazel had insisted she go, with school ending soon. Then she relented especially since she had job-hunting to do and Shanell could watch Ma’dear while she was out.

  The sun was bright, the weather mild, little smog, and generally a very pleasant day. Shanell got up around eleven o'clock and tiptoed into her grandmother's room. Hazel had made breakfast so there was little for Shanell to do except remove the dishes and tend to any needs Ma’dear might have.

  Ma’dear was awake. She smiled at Shanell when she walked into the room and patted the bed for the girl to sit.

  "How you doing this morning, Ma’dear?" She kissed her grandmother on the cheek, climbed on the bed and curled up beside her.

  "What'chu doing home? Saturday?" Ma’dear said, her voice barely above a whisper. Each day she seemed to be getting stronger. The doctor was pleased with her progress. Though she hadn't fully regained her speech, she could get out enough words to be understood.

  "Nobody's home but me. I didn't feel well. Would you like to go to the park?" Shanell asked. "It's a beautiful day? I'll get dressed; then I'll ask our neighbor, Mr. Frazier, to help me take you downstairs and we'll have a picnic in the park. Okay?"

  Shanell took a quick shower, dressed, made sandwiches, packed them in a bag, and went in to help her grandmother. For a month now, Ma’dear had been able to move around by herself. She had regained enough strength to go to the bathroom by herself and with some difficulty, washed herself. However, because it took so much effort, she tired easily and therefore, seldom ventured far from the bedroom. On rare occasions, the girls and sometimes Hazel, would help her into the living room to sit and watch TV together.

  This morning, sitting on the side of her bed, she tried to put on her dress but it was hung up around her neck. Shanell helped her get into the dress and into the wheel chair. She pushed her to the door and then went down to the Fraziers. Mr. Frazier followed her back up to her apartment and carried Ma’dear down to the street.

  "She's looking much better. How's she feeling?" Mr. Frazier asked Shanell. Turning to Ma’dear, he shouted, "HOW ARE YOU FEELING, MRS. LIVINGSTON?" Shanell sighed. Why do people act like she can't hear, she thought. Ma’dear shook her head and smiled.

  "YOU TAKING HER TO THE PARK? IT'S A NICE DAY FOR IT. I WISH I WAS GOING THERE MYSELF," He laughed as he caught himself. "Now when you come back, be sure to call me. I'm happy to be of service to a pretty little girl like yourself." He ambled back up the steps and went inside.

  "Let's see if we can't find a good place for a picnic," said Shanell as she wheeled her grandmother down the block and across the street to the park entrance. She passed several cement tables. Though they were empty, they were dotted with pigeon waste. Some were covered with graffiti. Others had broken benches, while still others were heavily stained.

  "Looks like we'll have to have our picnic over here." She stopped at a bench near the sandbox and swings. Unwrapping one peanut butter sandwich, she handed it to her grandmother. She ate the other one as they sat and watched the children play. Suddenly, she saw one child she recognized.

  "Tommy, stop kicking sand on that girl!" she heard someone yell from some distance away. Then she saw the young woman coming over to the child. It was Gloria, the girl she had met several months ago. Shanell considered calling out to her. She stopped herself remembering how Gloria had left her with her two children at her apartment and didn't get back until late. Gloria grabbed Tommy around the waist, dangling him precariously on her hip, his head bumping against her, she hauled him over to the stroller where his sister Chemise sat howling. Shanell watched Gloria as she spanked Tommy on the behind and jammed a pacifier in Chemise's mouth. Holding Tommy securely by the arm, she propelled the stroller down the path towards Shanell. As they drew closer, Shanell stood up to say hello, but Gloria didn't glance her way. "Just wait until I get your ass home." She pulled Tommy along as they walked past.

  "She didn't even remember me," Shanell mumbled once they were out of earshot. Another thing Shanell noticed with surprise - Gloria's swollen belly. She was expecting her third child!

  "I knew her once," She explained to Ma’dear. "I babysat for her. She went out to the store and was supposed to come right back but she didn't. Not until late and I got in trouble with Momma.

  I use to wonder why Momma was so strict w
ith Tricia and me. Now I see. She didn't want us to end up like Gloria."

  "Your Momma's strict on you both, because I was with her," Ma’dear said in a hoarse whisper.

  "You mean you watched over her every move? Didn't want her to go out with boys until she was grown?"

  Ma’dear smiled. "Mothers want best for children. Hard because don't wanta make same mistakes." Shanell had to lean close to Ma’dear. Her speech was slow and halting. It took a lot of effort.

  "You didn't get into no trouble when you was growing up, did you? You grew up in the South. There wasn't no way you could get into trouble down on the farm. Not like now with drugs and gangs and teenagers having babies. Things are much worse now."

  "Times changed but same. No drugs or gangs but girls having babies. Not accepted, sent away. Worse, no opportunity. Had to know your place."

  Shanell knew what she meant. She'd studied about the Civil Rights Movement in school.

  "I'm glad I didn't live back then."

  "Left South when little older than you. Ran off New York."

  "You did? I didn't know that. Did you go alone?"

  Ma’dear's eyes misted. Her voice dropped even lower. "No, with friend Sadie." She laughed. "Sadie, more energy than wild horses. Talked loud always telling jokes."

  In her halting way, Ma’dear told Shanell about coming North and having no skills, getting her first job working in service. Getting married.

  "To Grandpa Livingston?"

  No, first husband name Willie Joe Harris. Died suddenly, Melvin's father."

  "What happened to your friend Sadie?"

  Ma’dear coughed. "Thirsty." Shanell looked into the bag she'd packed with lunch. All that remained was a warm can of Ginger ale. She carefully opened it and held it up for Ma’dear to take a sip.

  "Tired," Ma’dear whispered.

  Shanell waited in silence for her grandmother to continue. They sat a little longer and she noticed Ma’dear had fallen asleep. The sun beat down on them. She felt a bead of sweat roll down her cheek.