Then Sings My Soul Page 4

  "I can't either," Shanell jumped in. "They're having tryouts for the new play all this week and I gotta be in it."

  Anger flashed in Hazel's voice. "You two had better work it out between you. One or both of you are staying home this week and that's final!"

  She stormed to the bathroom and slammed the door. Take deep breaths, calm down. It'll all work out, she told herself as she stared into the mirror. Lines had begun to form around her lips and across her brow, and shadows beneath her eyes were dark from lack of sleep. For two days she'd barely rested. Sleeping on Melvin's lumpy couch had pummeled her body, leaving stiff joints and aches in places she didn't think possible. Added to this, she arose too early, spent every minute at the hospital, and ate whatever she could grab.

  Everything fell on her shoulders as soon as her plane landed. Her older brother Melvin and his wife Althea seemed to be in a constant battle, arguing so much it gave Hazel a headache. She was happy to be home, but not happy to have more trouble. She felt ancient instead of thirty-five. After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she slipped into her nightgown. When she came out of the bathroom, her room was empty. Shanell was watching television in the living room; Tricia was talking on the phone, she assumed, to Darien.

  "Shanell, don't stay up too late, and make sure Tricia remembers to lock up."

  She tiptoed into Shanell's bedroom and peeked in at Ma’dear who was asleep. After kissing her mother's forehead, she adjusted the bedcovers, switched off the hall light, and returned to her bedroom. Diving into her comfortable bed, she gratefully sank into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 6 - Ma’dear

  Willie Joe, where are you? Why ain't you here with me? Why'd you have to go and leave me? I see you standing over there in the corner. Think you slick. Trying to hide from me. I knew you'd never leave me alone.

  You remember the time we danced all night at Rockland Palace, and my feet swolled up? We could really go. Hottest couple on the dance floor. That was when we first met. I remember when I first laid eyes on you. You were standing with your buddies over in the corner and I was with my girlfriend Sadie holding up the wall, waiting for somebody to ask us to dance. You came over and real gentlemanlike asked me. A Billy Eckstine song. The singer sounded so much like Billy, I swear he even looked a little like him. Oh, but dancing with you made my heart almost stop. You took us home in a cab afterwards. You were so handsome in your army uniform.

  Wait, where you going? You can't leave me now. You gotta wait 'till I'm ready. Willie Joe...wait for me....

  Chapter 7 - Tricia

  "Wake up, Ma’dear. I brought you some breakfast. I'll move these things off this table." Ma’dear looked at me as if she didn't know me.

  "I'm Tricia, your granddaughter." I managed to get her to eat some of the oatmeal I made. It was like feeding a baby. I tested it first; then I pushed it into her mouth and wiped off what didn't stay in. I'd rather feed a baby; I could feel my stomach turning over. It must be hard growing old and being helpless like you're a baby only you're not. You lived your life, been married, raised children, had a home of your own, then, all of a sudden, you're like a child again.

  "There. All gone. You want something else?" Ma’dear just stared. I wished I knew what she was thinking. "I'll be right back, soon as I wash these dishes."

  Shanell made me so mad this morning. I was supposed to go to school and get my assignments for the rest of the week. But no, she pitched a fit. To keep the peace I said I'd stay home. I hoped when I got to school the next day, once I explained the situation, my teachers would let me make everything up, especially Mrs. Stern, my English teacher. Tonight, though, with this gig on Sat., I had to be at the studio. I didn't mind missing school, but I wasn't going to miss our rehearsal.

  Darien called me last night. He asked me if I'd come over after rehearsal. I told him I couldn't. I didn't want to go through a wrestling match with him again.

  I went back into Ma'dear's room; straightened up a bit.

  "Ma'dear, You want to watch television? I can bring my little TV in here so you can watch. Shanell and I need to be studying anyway."

  I brought the TV into the room and placed it on the dresser. I turned on "All My Children" and watched it a while with her. From time to time I glanced over to see if she was paying attention and she seemed to be.

  "Want me to comb your hair?" Ma'dear's got fine hair, a beautiful pearl gray. When I took down the bun, her hair fell to her shoulders.

  "I wish I had hair like yours," I said. "My hair is coarse, and if I didn't have a perm, I'd have to keep a hot comb in it. Mama said the reason my hair doesn't grow is because I keep doing things to it. When I can afford to go to the beautician I have it permed. I like to dye it different colors. If it was like yours, I'd let it hang over my shoulders."

  I brushed out her hair and spread it out over her shoulders. It was soft and full. "I never seen you with your hair out. Why don't you ever wear it down?" She must have been beautiful when she was a girl. "You must've been a knockout when you were young. Huh?" She didn't say anything. I wondered if she understood me.

  I spent the entire morning and afternoon trying to entertain Ma'dear. I sang one of the songs we were working on, read to her from an old Bible Momma kept in her drawer, and we watched all the soaps. I couldn't believe it. I even emptied her bedpan.

  Caring for her wasn't so bad. She was nice, much nicer than she was on our last visit to her home. Then, I had made up my mind that that was the last time I'd go there. I told Momma and she said she understood. It was terrible.

  At four thirty Shanell came home.

  "It's about time!" I lit into her before she closed the door. "Where've you been? You were supposed to come home right after school."

  "I went to drama auditions. Momma said I could." She threw her backpack on the floor and plopped down in front of the TV.

  "That was before Ma'dear came. You were supposed to go to school and come right back home." Shanell didn't answer. Just went into the kitchen, pulled out the bread and the leftover roast beef.

  "That's for dinner."

  "So what am I supposed to eat?" She went into my room carrying her sandwich and milk.

  "Oh no you don't!" I followed behind her. "You can't eat in my room."

  She threw down her plate and glass, ran into the bathroom, and slammed the door behind her.

  I don't have time for this! Let her act like a spoiled child if she wanted to. I had to get ready for tonight. Gracie called and said there would be a big shot in the recording industry at the studio to listen to us. If he liked us...I didn't want to think about what that would mean.

  I went into my room and started to look for something to wear. I pulled out my purple tee shirt and matching pants. The ones I bought last year when I worked part time at Kate's Boutique. They had the best clothes and didn't charge an arm and a leg for them. The owner let me put things on layaway. I bought my whole wardrobe from Kate's. I had the reputation of being the most stylish person at school.

  All the girls were jealous because I never wore the same thing twice in three weeks. I wish I hadn't quit, but I needed time to rehearse.

  Right now I needed to get into the bathroom and Shanell still had her little butt in there. I banged on the door. "Shanell, I need to get in there. You gonna be much longer?" She didn't answer. I banged again. I heard the toilet flush; then the water running in the sink. Finally, the door opened and Shanell came out as cool as can be. She walked past me without a word.

  "You should go in and see how Ma'dear is doing. At least let her know you're home from school," I said.

  "What for?" But she did. When I came out of the bathroom, Shanell was sitting by Ma'dear's bed. She'd made her a sandwich and they were both watching TV together. I shook my head wishing I could understand my sister. Sometimes she could be so frustrating, and then at other times she could be really sweet. Those times were few and far between.

  I left the apartment before Momma got home. It was Shanell's turn to m
ake dinner. All she had to do was warm up the pot roast from last night, make some mash potatoes, and heat up the spinach. I'd grab a burger from McDonald's when I got downtown.

  I heard Kanisha and Gracie singing in two-part harmony as soon as I walked in. I threw my jacket on the chair and rushed across to where they were at the piano and I jumped in and we did our thing. I felt good whenever we sang, like I was floating on a cloud or riding on a wave. Singing helped me forget my problems, school, Darien, Shanell, Ma'dear. I was high on harmony. Then we got to a part calling for a solo and Kanisha tried it but it was too high for her. She handed the words to Gracie. Gracie passed it over to me. I tried it and it was just in my range.

  "Girl, you sound too good," Gracie said.

  "You were off key. Do it again, and this time pay attention to the piano," Kanisha said.

  We went through it again. I thought it sounded even better. Not Kanisha, though. She made me do it again until I'd just about had it with her.

  The door opened and in walked Harry with this middle-aged white man dressed in a three-piece gray suit, with thick gray hair slicked back looking like a used car salesman.

  "Girls, I want you to meet Mr. Donovan. He's from Capital Records and he's here to listen to you sing."

  "Yes, Harry has told me about you," His voice was raspy like he'd been eating sandpaper. He pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket, blew his nose, and mopped his forehead. "Now don't let me disturb you. Go right ahead with what you were doing."

  Harry took him over to the side and after he sat down, Harry brought over a bottle he always kept in his briefcase and poured the man a drink in a paper cup. I felt a little nervous. Capital Records, I thought. We were on our way.

  Gracie was just as excited as me. Kanisha didn't give him a second look. She lit a cigarette and began playing chords on the piano.

  "This may be our chance for a recording contract," I whispered to Gracie.

  "Yeah child. I can see us now. Our names in lights traveling all over the country, doing concerts, making money, that's all I want-the long green.

  "You don't believe this man is really from Capital, do you? He's just another one of Harry's schemes. Else he wouldn't be drinking that cheap booze Harry keeps in his briefcase. Probably one of his bookies," Kanisha said throwing cold water on our enthusiasm. I glanced over at Harry and Mr. Donovan. They were drinking and having a good time, not paying attention to us.

  "You may be wrong, Kanisha. What if he is from Capital?"

  "You're too naive for words. You'd believe anything anybody tells you. Anyway. We're here to rehearse, so let's go."

  "That's okay honey," Gracie patted my hand. "We'll make believe he's from the record company and sing our hearts out."

  And we did. When we'd run through three or four numbers, I watched the man get up; Harry followed him to the door.

  "I'll be right back, girls," Harry hollered at us and went out.

  "Well, what do you think? Do you think he likes us?" Gracie was enthusiastic. "Yeah, we're in!" She reached over and we high fived.

  My fingers crossed behind my back, I was all smiles and wishing. Kanisha just kept playing chords. Then she broke out into a blues tune she'd been fiddling around with lately.

  "What do you think?" Gracie asked Kanisha who ignored her. "Oh, you're always so damn moody." She waved her off and ran to the door. "I'm gonna see where they went."

  "What's that you're playing," I asked Kanisha. The tune was beautiful. I tried to hum the melody, but she stopped playing and glared at me. Then I wandered over to the window and looked out at the boulevard. Harry and the man were still talking on the sidewalk. A taxi pulled up and Mr. Donovan got in. After the cab disappeared down the street, Gracie rushed over to Harry. She saw me at the window and waved. Whatever he told her, I could see her shoulders slump and the light go out of her face.

  They came back upstairs.

  "He says he'll let us know," Harry said. He scratched his ear and reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "Tricia, can I see you in the hall for a moment." Surprised, I glanced over at Gracie and Kanisha. Both stared back at me. Then Kanisha began playing again. After Gracie gave me a nod, I followed Harry into the half-lit hall.

  Harry was a small man. I guessed he must have been around forty-five. From what I learned from Gracie, he had always been in the business having started out singing big time with a famous group I never heard of. She said, he made a lot of money and even got a chance to sing on TV. Then Harry almost got killed in a car accident. Some of the other members of the group died. He didn't know much of anything else except the music business, so he decided to manage. From what Gracie said, he managed some other singers though I never met any.

  From time to time I heard other people say he was a small-time hustler. One time, we were singing at this place and he got into a big argument over what, I never found out. The guy called him something that made Harry real mad. I'd never seen him mad before but when I looked around, the man was on the floor. And the man was a lot bigger than Harry. Gracie said we needed him. Harry protected us. A lot of people in the music business would take advantage of us, beat us out of money and steal our material. He got us some jobs and collected ten percent of what little we made. On the side, I suspected he had some shady dealings, else how could he manage to live on the little he got from us.

  Harry turned to face me when we were in the hall.

  "Look Tricia. Donovan is only interested in you. He says you got real talent and he wants you to call him."

  I was shocked. "But what about Gracie and Kanisha? We're a group. I can't go off without them." I shook my head. I could just see them, especially Gracie who brought me into the group. No. If there was anything I valued, it was loyalty.

  "Do you think they wouldn't go off without you? Are you interested or not? Just give him a call," he said, holding out a business card. "He owes me a favor."

  I took Donovan's card and promised Harry I'd call. We went back in. I didn't say anything to the girls. Neither did he. When Gracie asked me what he wanted, I told her he wanted to borrow five dollars from me. Harry was always borrowing money from us so it wasn't unusual. I could tell that she didn't believe me. I felt like a traitor, but at the same time, as I walked to the bus stop, my heart was beating fast.

  Imagine, a big-time person in the industry was interested in me. My head would be in the clouds for days.

  Chapter 8 - Ma'dear

  Precious Lord, Take my hand. Lead me on, Let me stand. I'm tired...

  I'm tired. Why do I just want to sleep all the time? I don't feel no pain, just a numbness in my legs and my right arm. I wish I was home. Why can't I go home? I don't want to be here in this godforsaken place. Never did like California.

  I remember when I got a letter from my brother Bud, well, not really a letter, a picture postcard from when he and his wife came out for vacation. It was a picture of Grauman's Chinese theatre in Hollywood, that place where famous actors put their hands and feet in cement. Didn't mean anything to me. People in California act like fools. Why Hazel would want to live here is beyond me. But she was always wild, had a mind of her own, couldn't tell her nothing.

  If I was to die tomorrow, I wouldn't have no regrets. I did the best I could and I believe I led a good life. I don't have nothing to be ashamed of. I could stand before my maker with my head held high. Who you think you're fooling? You suddenly got an attack of forgetfulness? You forgot already about all the things you done, all the men you been with?

  But that was long ago. I paid for that. I paid in full.

  Oh yeah! What about Fred and Willy Joe? What about Sadie Washington, your best friend? What about her? You’re responsible for her death...

  Stop! I don't remember no Sadie Washington, Willie Joe, or Fred. Besides, that was a long time ago. Stop now! Let me rest. I want to rest.

  Chapter 9 - Hazel

  Hazel glanced at her watch. It was a little after 5 P
.M. She covered her typewriter, slowly cleared her desk, pulled her purse out of the bottom drawer and opened it. Taking out her compact and lipstick, she touched a few strands of hair into place, powered her face and applied a fresh layer of lipstick.

  "Got a hot date?" Monica asked as she prepared to leave.

  "No. I'm just not in a hurry to get home." Hazel lit a cigarette after looking around to make sure the supervisors had left. "No smoking" signs dotted the room. She blew the smoke away from Monica, keeping the cigarette out of sight.

  "You must really be in a bad way, smoking on the floor like that. If I wasn't in a hurry, I'd join you." She laughed. Coming closer, her expression grew serious.

  "Having a hard time huh? Look, if there's anything I can do to help, just let me know. You know we sisters got to stick together."

  "Nothing I can't handle." Hazel gathered up her things and together they walked to the elevator. When they reached the ground floor, Monica rushed off. "Call me, any time," she flung over her shoulder as she disappeared around the corner.

  Hazel stood for a moment before heading towards the parking lot. She got into her car and started for the freeway home. Just before she got to the Slauson Street exit, she turned off and headed back to Crenshaw, then over to Adams where she stopped in front of a small one-story house located back from the street. Dwarfed by huge five bedroom houses in a neighborhood once known as Sugar Hill, which sported the likes of Ethel Waters, Sammy Davis Jr. and others, the tiny structure looked like an interloper.

  Hazel turned off the engine and waited. At 5:45, a green Mustang drove up, the garage door opened, the driver smoothly cruised in. The man got out walking towards her with a dimpled smile on his face. He was tall, around 6 ft., handsome, muscular in his beige cotton polo, brown slacks and slender waist, with skin the color of dark chocolate; his curly hair glistened in the waning sunlight.