Читать книгу God Still Don't Like Ugly - Mary Monroe - Страница 16

The obituary for Lillimae’s mother that appeared in the newspaper didn’t even list Lillimae and her siblings among the survivors. Just the two kids her mother had by the white man she had left Daddy for. The woman who had meant so much to Daddy at one time still must have meant something to him because on the day of the funeral he cried, too. Of course there was no mention of him in the obituary, either, but he wanted to go to the funeral, too. He sent flowers to the church under a fake name. Then he agreed to wait with me in the car parked across the street, a block from the church, while Lillimae paid her respects inside.

The church, a quaint little white clapboard building with a crooked steeple, was located in a mixed neighborhood. Seeing a few Black and Hispanic faces on the street made me feel a little more at ease.

It amazed me how many differences there were between white folks and Black folks. At our funerals there was enough loud weeping and wailing to wake the deceased. Some of the white people I saw standing around outside the church were acting like they were at a carnival admiring a sideshow. Big-bellied, red-faced men were smoking fat cigars and grinning. A washed-out woman was holding a homely, crying baby wearing nothing but a diaper. Young kids were playing tag and throwing rocks at a stray dog.

White folks didn’t even dress the way we did for funerals. At least not at this funeral. The men had on natty, ill-fitting suits and shoes with heels worn down to the ground. I even saw a woman in a tight red dress cut so low I could see the nipples on her long, flat breast. A molly-faced teenage boy with a ducktail hairdo was hugging a boom box and bobbing his head. The only way you could tell that this was a funeral and not a wedding was by the long black hearse sitting in front of the church.

Lillimae had contacted her brother and sister, but neither one wanted to attend their own mother’s funeral. That saddened me. I believed that in death, even the worst person deserved some degree of respect.

With Lillimae in the church, I was alone with Daddy in her car. I asked him the question that had almost burned a hole in my mind over the years. “Daddy, why did you do it?”

“Do what?” He gasped. “What you talkin’ about, girl?”

“You know what I’m talking about. How did you end up with that Edith woman in the first place? I thought you were so happy with Muh’Dear.”

Daddy was sprawled across the backseat of Lillimae’s old car, chewing on a toothpick. Every now and then he lifted his head and glanced out the back window toward the church, shaking his head and mumbling under his breath.

“I was happy with you and your mama…but…well…” He paused and sucked in his breath as he brushed lint off the same black suit he told me he wore to all funerals. “Edith’s daddy owned that grove I was workin’ that summer. For a redneck, he was a good old boy to me, as long as I stayed in my place. Edith, she kept at me ’til she wore me down. Bringin’ me cool lemonade drinks and sugar tits to munch on while I was pickin’ them oranges for her daddy. She even slipped me a few dollars every now and then—which I spent up on you and your mama. It was her money that paid for them sunglasses I gave you for your birthday. One evenin’ when I was in the grove by myself, she come at me, hissin’ like a big snake. Wrapped herself around me like one, too. She started kissin’ me up and down my neck, squeezin’ on me. Next thing I knew, we was wallowin’ on the ground. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was somethin’ other than a ill-educated, farm-workin’ nigger. And, it felt good.”

A long moment of silence passed before I could reply.

“Was that all it took? You gave us up for that?”

“She gave up more than I did. Her family, her daddy’s money. How many white folks you think would give up the good life they got to be with a poor-ass Black man, when she could have continued livin’ like a king up in that big house her daddy owned? It got to her after a few years. Right after her nervous breakdown, she started kissin’ her daddy’s feet. Him and the rest of her kinfolks felt sorry enough for her they let her back in the family. Them schemin’ crackers even had some rascal they dug up in Texas waitin’ to marry her. A cousin of hers at that. And there I was, by myself with them three kids.”

“At least you did the right thing by them.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Daddy snapped.

“You didn’t run off and leave them behind.” I kept my eyes on the front yard of the church, which was vacant by now.

“Girl, I tried to find y’all. I wanted to get back with you and your mama so bad it hurt me to my heart. Don’t you think for one minute I wasn’t sufferin’, too.” Daddy paused and sniffed. “I went through things I wouldn’t wish on a dog. Like that time I carried Lillimae to the mini-mall to get her some new shoes to wear to church. She was eleven and just startin’ to act a fool, as kids do when they that age. Anyway, she threw a hissy fit ’cause I wouldn’t get her no ice cream. I mauled her head with my fist. Girl, crackers came at me from every direction, thinkin’ God knows what. I got beat down and cussed at so bad, I couldn’t work for a week. Lillimae was a grown woman before me and her went out in public together again. Every time I thought about Edith, I wanted to kill her for the hell she had put me in.”

It took me a few moments to absorb this information. Recalling the sad look I’d seen on Edith’s face that day at the vegetable stand, I blinked hard. To give that woman the benefit of the doubt, I truly believed that if that store manager had not approached her, she would have shown her true feelings toward Lillimae. Now only God would know what Edith might have said and done. I was proud of the fact that I had a forgiving heart. Had I not, I would never have seen my daddy again.

“Are you going to go in the church at all?” I asked Daddy, glancing at my watch.

Daddy gasped so hard he started coughing. As soon as he cleared his throat he roared, “What’s wrong with you, girl?! Them white folks would ride me out of town on a rail if I was to show my black face up in that church! I ain’t that crazy.”

“You were crazy enough to live with one and have three kids with her,” I scoffed. I turned to look at Daddy. The toothpick between his lips was shaking as he stared at me with tears in his eyes.

Daddy let out a loud groan. “Girl, ain’t you never gwine to let the past go? What’s done is done. And don’t you know everything happen for a reason? Maybe me leavin’ you and your mama was the best thing ever happened to y’all. Sound like you and your mama done all right without me. I was just holdin’ y’all down from a better life. What kind of life do you think you would have had if you hadn’t moved to Ohio? What could I have given y’all?”

“Your love would have been enough for me, Daddy.”

“Girl, you always had that. I thought about you every day of my life, wishin’ I could hug you and see you grow up. I sure wish I could have been there when you got familiar with…uh, mens. That ain’t a easy thing for a girl to go through. Lillimae and Sondra told me when they, uh, done it that first time. That’s the kind of deal I had goin’ with my girls. They knew from the cradle they could talk to me about anything. Even that. I hope you didn’t jump the gun and slide off your bloomers too soon and for the wrong one.”

“I didn’t,” I muttered. I recalled the first time I’d ever had sex in my life, with Mr. Boatwright when I was just seven years old. Just thinking about it made my crotch start aching so hard, I had to turn and sit on the side of my hipbone.

“I didn’t think so. I can tell you too feisty to let some dude take advantage of you. Sugar, before you leave, let’s set down and kick back and you can tell me more about your life in Ohio. Hear?”

I sighed and offered a weak smile and a nod. A great sadness suddenly consumed me. I would tell Daddy more about my life in Ohio, but I’d leave out the parts about the years of sexual abuse I had endured and my fling with prostitution.

And the part about me having a best friend who was a murderer.