Then Sings My Soul Read online

  I don't remember the movie. As usual we sat in the back row where all the lovers sat and kissed. I slapped his hands from my breast. He slid them down between my legs.

  "Stop," I said as I pushed his hands away.

  After the movie, Darien took me back to his apartment. We still hadn't said more than a few words to each other all night. It felt good just being with him though something in the back of my mind said I should stop before it was too late. He turned off the lights, put on R. Kelly, and we danced.

  Seems like you're ready...Girl are you ready...to go all the way...

  We were doing some heavy petting when he propelled me towards his bedroom and before I knew it, he had my blouse unbuttoned. I felt all gooey inside not able to stop him or myself. He pulled my clothes off and then his. I tried to stop him but at the same time, I didn't want to. He pushed me down on his bed and started pulling at my panties.

  "Wait," I protested, trying to hold him off. "I can't"

  "Com'on now. I won't hurt you." His breath came rapidly. I struggled beneath him suddenly realizing what was about to happen.

  "Darien, please. I can't. I'm not ready."

  "Yes, you are. You're just scared. Ain't nothing to be scared of."

  In a panic, I managed to push him off me, catching him off balance. He slid to the floor. Grabbing my clothes and holding them in front of me, I walked back toward the door.

  He got up and sat on the bed. Through the darkness, I could feel his anger. I started putting on my clothes. "I'm sorry," I apologized. His breathing slowed. He got up and put on his shorts.

  "I'm sorry, too," he said, his voice sending cold waves over me. "I'll take you home. Give me a minute." He went into the bathroom. I finished dressing in the living room and sat down on a chair to wait for him. I felt ashamed. I shouldn't have come up to his place if I wasn't going to do it with him. I should have stopped it before we got to this point. I could understand him being mad at me. I was a tease, I could hear him thinking.

  I didn't look at him when he came out. We didn't say a word as he drove me home making me feel even worse. I wanted to explain but what could I say? He dropped me off in front of my building, mumbled, "goodnight," and drove off before I could get my key out of my purse to open the outside door. I couldn't go inside like that. Removing the key out of the lock, I sat down on the stoop and cried. I was glad the street was empty, even though it was just 11 pm on a Saturday evening.

  A virgin at seventeen, I laughed bitterly. Who did I think I was, some kind of saint? Was I so different from other girls my age? I wanted to tonight. I wanted to go all the way with him, but I couldn't and I didn't know why. Scared, I guess. All the things Momma drilled into my head as I was growing up, about being a good girl, about men not respecting a girl who sleeps around, about getting an education and on and on came back and sat on me hard. I wanted to spit them out, vomit them out onto the street right then and there. Her words were like a chastity belt holding me down, weighing heavy on me, keeping me from truly being with the one I loved. And, I hated to admit that I might lose him, or maybe I'd already lost him.

  Suddenly I wished there was somebody I could talk to; somebody who wouldn't judge me or put me down. Momma would have a fit if I even brought up the subject. Shanell would laugh. Gracie would say go ahead. It's about time. She thought I was weird. As it was, she got pregnant before she was sixteen.

  My head was spinning. I got up from the cold steps and let myself into the apartment. I felt drained. I stole past Momma and Shanell who were watching TV, and into my bedroom. I quickly undressed, and slipped into bed.

  I dreamed I was on stage singing solo and all of a sudden my voice cracked right in the middle of the song. I couldn't remember the words either. The audience started to laugh. I opened my mouth and nothing came out. The people began to throw rotten tomatoes, and they booed me. I broke down and started to cry.

  They shouted, "Get off the stage. She can't sing. She's a phony.

  The more I cried, the louder they got. My tears fell until they flooded the floor. I couldn't stop crying. The spotlight stayed on me. I saw Darien jump up from the front row, turn his back on me and shout, "She's a fake!" Then he laughed louder than the rest. The tears fell even harder, and it seemed like they turned to rain; my clothes were drenched. I tried to run but the spotlight kept following me, the voices kept laughing and shouting for me to get off the stage.

  Suddenly I was awake. The room was dark. Shanell was asleep on her cot, her breathing steady. My pajamas were soaked with sweat. I stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom, took off my pajamas, and stood before the mirror, looking at my naked body.

  "If he ever calls me again, I'm not gonna be scared," I vowed.

  Chapter 17 - Shanell

  Though she sat beside her mother watching the TV screen, Shanell's thoughts were far away. Her mind was on Shay, the boy she met a few weeks ago. Even though they went to the same school, she'd seen him in the hallway and at his locker, but he never gave her a second glance. Captain of the basketball team, he had girls fluttering all over him like bees searching for honey. Then one day, out of the blue, he called her and she agreed to meet up with him.

  Her stomach fluttered as she remembered the first time they spent the day together. She'd told her mother she was going to the movies with her girlfriend Babe, but instead she met him at the McDonald's on the corner. He bought her a Big Mac and fries, and then they went over to the arcade where he treated her to Donkey Kong. Naturally he beat her score several times over. She wasn't good at video games.

  She enjoyed just being with him. Next they took the bus over to World on Wheels and skated for a while. It was so much fun. But the best part was when they ran into his ex girlfriend and he put his arms around Shanell's waist and kissed her right in front of the girl. Everything happened so fast. She smiled at the memory.

  "What are you smiling about? Did you hear the door?" Hazel's voice broke into her thoughts. When Shanell didn't answer, Hazel went on.

  "Must be Tricia. Anyway, I feel like having some popcorn. Go make us some."

  She hopped off the sofa and started for the kitchen.

  "And while you're at it, look in and see if your grandmother wants anything."

  Shanell couldn't believe it. She didn't feel any different. She checked herself in the mirror and she didn't look any different from how she always looked. You really can't tell whether a girl's a virgin or not, at least not by looking at her, she thought. Well, one thing I know. Tricia still is, she laughed smugly.

  At first it had hurt like hell and it was over so quick. 'I don't see what the big deal is anyway.' One thing she did know was that she was in love, really in love. Not like those schoolgirl crushes she'd had many times before. No, this was different. She was Shay's girl now. The finest boy in school. All the girls were after him.

  "Shanell, how's that popcorn doing?" Hazel yelled. Burnt. Shanell peered down at the burnt kernels sticking to the insides of the bag and dumped everything into the trash. Luckily there was one last bag.

  She called Shay the day after but his mother said he wasn't at home, and she hadn't been able to catch up with him at school. She glanced over at the telephone wondering if it was too late to call. It was 11:30 pm. Should she take a chance? If somebody else answers, I'll just hang up.

  She dialed his number and listened to it ring. On the fourth ring, a man's voice answered. "Hello," it was fuzzy with sleep. "Hello."

  Shanell held the receiver trying to get up enough nerve to ask for Shay.

  "Who the hell is this calling this time of night?" Bam! The line went dead. Smelling the burning popcorn, she hung up the phone and rushed over to the microwave. "Damn," she swore. "Momma, I burned the popcorn," she yelled.

  "I can smell it all the way in here," Hazel responded. "Well, get another bag and hurry up."

  "I burned the last bag, too."

  "Can't you do anything right?" her mother said. "Forget it, the movie's back on."

&nbs
p; Chapter 18 - Ma’dear

  "You sure one fine looking thing," Willie Joe held me close as we danced across the floor. My eyes was filled with stars. Then the music changed and suddenly he swung me loose and I almost fell. He caught me and we jitterbugged to Louis Jordan's orchestra.

  "He was rocking, he was rolling. Never seen such jumping to the break of dawn...."

  When I got off that floor, sweat was pouring down my face. My clothes was wringing wet and I could hardly catch my breath. Sadie gave me a dirty look when Willie Joe brought me back to the table. She jumped up and threw her arms around his neck, pressing her body into his.

  "Willie Joe," she purred in that voice she uses when she's trying to get a man. "Dance this one with me, honey." Willie Joe smiled down on her, pulled out a big handkerchief, and wiped the sweat from his face.

  "Y'all women trying to wear me out." He winked at me and escorted Sadie to the floor. She would have to pick a slow song so she could get close to him. I sat there sipping my drink trying not to notice them. Then Willie Joe's buddy Mack, asked me to dance. A short man with a big stomach, his breath smelled like fried pork chops and beer. When he smiled at me, I noticed he had several gold teeth. His arms held me tight as he leaned his sweaty face against mine. I stiffened as I pulled away trying not to offend him or make him mad. He seemed to get the message because he loosened his grip. Then he started asking me questions about Sadie. Where she from? How old is she? Does she have a boyfriend? Stuff like that. I gave him all the particulars including some I made up. By the time the song ended, he got the impression that Sadie was after him. He spent the rest of the night trying to get her to dance with him. 'Course, both our eyes was on Willie Joe.

  Sadie and me spent most Thursdays together on our days off. We rode the train from Bronxville back into the city to the room we kept for use on our day off. On Thursdays we'd party at Rockland Palace with all the people who worked in service, and got that day off.

  Willie Joe didn't work in service. I'm not sure what he did for a living. Whatever it was he was always there and he always had plenty of money. Sadie and me would vie for his attention though he told me he favored me. Probably told her the same thing. I didn't know it at the time that he was playing us. Whenever we'd see him at the Palace, he'd ask both of us to dance, both of us fools thinking we was the light in his eyes.

  After meeting up with him and his buddies at the Palace a few times, Willie Joe called me up and asked me to go to the ball game with him on my day off. We went up to Yankee Stadium to see the Monarchs play and after that, we took the train to Coney Island and spent the rest of the evening going on one ride after another. We rode on the Ferris wheel, the bumper cars, and even the roller coaster that scared me out of my wits. Just before it was time to go home, he took me on a ride through the Tunnel of Love. He held me in his arms and kissed me. It was the nicest evening.

  Like I said, I didn't know much about him. What I did know was that he was a gentleman; at least he was with me. Tall, handsome, well built, he had a dark complexion, the color of dark chocolate with a head full of tight curly hair and a sweet smile. He made me laugh and he flattered me, telling me I was the prettiest thing he'd ever seen. He was so easy to talk to. I told him about my life, how me and Sadie had come up from Virginia and worked our way to New York working in service. He said when he got out of the army, after the war, he didn't know what to do with himself. A friend told him about getting a job as a sleeping car porter. He worked the rails for a while and got to see the country from one end to the other. What he hoped to do one day was move to California, get married, and have a house full of children. He set me to dreaming, too.

  I didn't tell Sadie about Willie Joe and me seeing as how every time I mentioned his name, she'd talk about him like he was a dog.

  "Why you want that no account man. He ain't interested in nothing 'cept what he can get from you," she'd say. "I don't trust him. What he want with you anyway?"

  She'd run him into the ground so much that I wouldn't tell her nothing about him and me.

  Sadie and me worked for a while for the same rich family in Bronxville. I was hired to be the live-in upstairs maid. Sadie was their cook. When I first saw how these people lived, I wasn't that impressed. I'd worked in white folks' homes before in the South with their huge mansions, swimming pools and all.

  The Bloomsteins lived in a large house with a grand piano in the downstairs living room, a tennis court in their backyard and a swimming pool. But they were the messiest people I ever saw. They'd just drop their clothes wherever they fell. I guess I would too if I knew there'd be somebody to pick up after me. Mrs. Bloomstein had a closet full of clothes and more shoes than she'd ever wear even if she wore one pair a day for a year. I tried to get my feet in a few, but gave up when I almost busted a nice pretty green pair of suede pumps trying to get my size eight foot into a size six shoe.

  I didn't get to see much of Sadie, she being downstairs and all. I'd sneak downstairs from time to time whenever the head butler wasn't around. He was in charge and you'd think he was the master of the house the way he kept an eye on us with his uppity ways. You know how black folk can be when you give them a little authority. He even talked like the Bloomsteins.

  I didn't realize how much Sadie was stuck on Willie Joe until six months later when we was having a conversation on the train riding back to Bronxville. I happened to mention that Willie Joe asked me to marry him. I didn't know that much about him, but it didn't matter. I was nineteen and to me he was the world. Whenever we was together, nothing else existed. He could make me laugh, cry, rage and sing. The man made me want to sing all the time. He was all I wanted or thought I ever wanted. So I was bubbling all over with the news and though I knew Willie Joe and Sadie went out together a few times, it didn’t matter to me. Willie Joe wasn't no saint. He told me he liked women, but he said I was special and he wanted me to be his wife.

  "You a damn fool," Sadie said in a harsh whisper. "The man's no good. How could you ever think of marrying him?"

  Chapter 19 - Hazel

  Letters and packages began to arrive shortly after Hazel told Donald he could use her address. All were addressed to E&M Inc. Hazel glanced at them and dropped them in a shoebox and set it by the door. At first she was curious; they all were, but as she valued her privacy, she respected others. She stopped Shanell and Tricia from steaming one envelope open when they first began to arrive.

  Donald called about a week later and asked if he could pick them up. And today, as she came in from work, she saw his car, a brand new shiny BMW with a personalized license plate, parked in front of her apartment. Her arms loaded with groceries, she struggled to insert the key into the outside lock. The door swung open and Mrs. Frazier stepped out. She was a woman in her early fifties, a bit on the heavy side, bosomy, with broad hips that made her waist look small. Her salt and pepper hair was short and neatly pressed. Always a pleasant smile on her face, she was shorter than Hazel by about 3 inches. Her legs reminded Hazel of tree stumps.

  "Evening, Mrs. Porter. Just getting in from work?"

  Hazel smiled as best she could, hoping to slip upstairs before becoming engaged in a long conversation.

  "Need any help with your groceries? I can call Mr. Frazier."

  "No thanks, I'm fine." She started up the steps.

  "That's a handsome looking car out front. Mr. Norris got him a new car?" Mrs. Frazier said. She was well meaning and a great help to Hazel at times, but she was also quite nosy. There was nothing she liked better than to question Hazel about her personal life and gossip about everybody else in the building.

  "No, I don't know who it belongs to," she said. Who else would have "HYROLA" for a license plate but Donald! That was one of their biggest problems - his gambling as well as his scheming, always trying to get something for nothing. But she wasn't about to tell Mrs. Frazier her business.

  "I saw a well-dressed, handsome young man go upstairs about a half hour ago. I wonder who he came to visit?"r />
  Hazel shrugged. Her arms felt like they were about to fall off. "If you'll excuse me, I've got to put these frozen vegetables in the freezer before they thaw."

  "Don't they spoil quick. Well, don't let me keep you. I was on my way to the store. Do you need anything? I don't expect you do. I'll let you go. Tricia and Shanell sure are growing. You got your hands full." She laughed. As she stepped cautiously down the outside steps, holding tightly to the banister, she muttered, "My arthritis is acting up again."

  Hazel pressed her head to the door of the apartment, listening. Donald's booming voice drifted out to her. She hesitated before putting her key in the lock. When she opened it, everybody's eyes turned to look at her. Tricia and Shanell sat on the couch, Donald in the recliner. He jumped up and tried to take her packages.

  Waving him off, Hazel said, "That's all right. The girls can manage." She handed the groceries to them. They carried them into the kitchen glad to be relieved of the burden of holding an conversation with a person they didn't think much of.

  "Woman, you still looking good enough to eat. Lemme take a look at you. Hmm, hmm, hmm." He shook his head, a broad smile on his lips.

  Donald was barely five feet nine with a shoulder length Jheri curl. Neatly dressed in an expensive looking suit that didn't hide his muscular build and slender waist. He was thirty-two, three years younger than Hazel. Women found him attractive. He had a devastating smile, and a sparkle in his eyes, one that made a woman think that he belonged to her solely—that is, before you got to know him. Hazel fell for his smile and his smooth talk, and against her better judgment and her mother's advice, married him thinking he'd be a good father to the two girls. Too late, she realized that she was actually driven by loneliness, the same thing that propelled her into all her relationships.