Читать книгу God Don't Play - Mary Monroe - Страница 19

It was a major struggle for me to get through the rest of the evening. I had lost my appetite, even for alcohol, and it was not easy for me to go on about my business like nothing was wrong. I couldn’t say the same for Rhoda and Jade. They were able to put up a good enough front to keep the men from noticing that something was out of order.

It had begun to get dark and the streetlights that lined my street had just come on. After a trip to the bathroom to rid myself of some of the beer that I’d consumed, I went out to my front porch and looked up and down Reed Street, wondering if my new enemy was one of my neighbors.

I lived in a very quiet, respectable, racially diverse neighborhood. Directly across the street from my house was a large beige house with five bedrooms and a garage wide enough to accommodate three vehicles. It was the newest building on the block. It had been built five years ago by the friendly Pakistani man who managed the Second National Bank, where Pee Wee and I maintained our joint checking and savings accounts. Before the Pakistani man and his family moved across the street from me, the spot where he had built his dream home had been vacant for several years. A lot of folks didn’t like to talk about the house that had once stood in the same spot. It had been another large house, occupied by a happy family: Rhoda’s family. Not her and Otis and Jade, but Rhoda and her parents and other family members. Shortly after they moved out, a wiring situation created a problem that caused a fire, and the house, which had contained the mortuary that Rhoda’s daddy had owned, burned to the ground. Whenever Rhoda paid me a visit, she refused to even look at the location where she’d once lived.

For some reason the streetlights that lined Reed Street looked a little brighter than usual and resembled a strange necklace. Every single residence had a large, well-kept front lawn. Other than the Cherry Hill neighborhood across town, this was one of the nicest parts of town to live in. Cherry Hill is where Rhoda, Muh’Dear and Daddy, and Scary Mary—a feisty old madam who was Muh’Dear’s best friend—lived. It was clean, almost crime-free, and I felt safe and welcome. Well, I had felt safe and welcome until I received that cute pink envelope with the nasty message inside.

I glanced at my watch, surprised to see that it was almost nine. But it was still warm. As a matter of fact it was warmer than usual, so on my way back in from the front porch I flipped on the air conditioner.

I had turned on the back porch light, but with the light from the bright, silvery moon and the army of fireflies with their yellow taillights flashing, we didn’t even need the porch light. There were just as many mosquitoes buzzing around as there were fireflies, and the only purpose that those suckers served was to sting us. As much as we all scratched and complained about the mosquitoes, you would have thought that we would have already called it a night. But everybody seemed to be having such a good time. Everybody but me.

I had sat on the hard bench so long, my butt was numb and my muumuu had begun to feel like it was glued to my body. And as annoying as the mosquitoes were, they were a distraction for a while. I was looking for anything and everything that I could focus on, so that I wouldn’t have to think about that telephone call that Jade had answered for me. Because when I did think about the call, I thought about the nasty note and the blacksnake.

Fatigue soon got the best of me. I couldn’t stop yawning and rubbing my eyes. As much as I enjoyed the company of Rhoda and her family, now I regretted that I had invited them over. I tried not to think about that telephone call, but it stayed in the front of my crowded mind, even more so than the note and the blacksnake.

Had I still been in school, it would have been easier for me to compile a reasonable list of suspects. But things had changed a lot for me over the years. It was hard for me to come up with more than a handful of people, women in particular, who might have a reason to hold a grudge against me.

I recalled a run-in that I’d had with a hostile clerk in a nearby grocery store who had shortchanged me, a hairdresser who had lost her job after I’d complained about a botched perm, and a waitress I’d refused to tip in a restaurant; I could go on and on. I didn’t think that I had done anything to anybody that was a good enough reason for them to approach me in such a hostile manner. But apparently they thought I had, and that was what I had to focus on: what I had done, and who I had done it to.

Every time Rhoda glanced at me there was a look of compassion and concern on her face that I hadn’t seen since the days of that child-raping Mr. Boatwright. Even though he’d been dead for almost thirty years, that bastard still haunted me.

Rhoda and Jade seemed to be enjoying themselves just as much as Pee Wee, Otis, and Charlotte were. They were still running around in our backyard throwing a Frisbee and that damn football from one to the other like it was the Fourth of July. But I knew Rhoda and Jade better than I knew myself. They were just as disturbed as I was about what was happening to me. They were just better at hiding things than I was. Especially Rhoda.

“Auntie, don’t you want to have some fun?” Jade yelled as she leaped in the air trying to wrest the Frisbee out of Pee Wee’s hand. “It’s good exercise.” She paused and gave me a curious look as I just sat looking at her like I had suddenly become mute. “Auntie, didn’t you hear me? Don’t you want to get up off that hard seat and have some fun?” Jade yelled again. “You are already sweating and huffing and puffing like a pig anyway, and you haven’t even done anything but sit in the same spot, off and on, ever since we got here.”

Jade’s long ponytail flopped up and down like the tail on a Palomino. With all the sweating I’d done, my short, severe hair looked and felt like a thorny skullcap. It seemed like the older I got, the worse my hair got. It was shorter, thinner, and more brittle than ever. Jade had informed me, in no uncertain terms, that if I ever stopped letting my beautician dye my hair and pluck the stubborn hairs from my chin on a regular basis, I would eventually look like one of the Smith Brothers, the bearded men illustrated on the cough drop box. Not only was Jade’s comment a little extreme, it was funny and I had laughed about it. If I had let the things that Jade said about my appearance bother me, I would have covered my entire head and face with a ski mask and the rest of my body with a blanket every time I left my house.

After the ugly comment that the note writer had made about my hair, I knew that I couldn’t go on without covering what was left of my hair with a wig. I had worn braids for a few years, but I’d removed them after a comment made by a meddlesome Black co-worker.

“Girl, if you want to get anywhere in this company, you better stop comin’ up in here lookin’ too Black. Them braids gots to go if you ever want to get a management position in the corporate world. Remember how many of us moved up the corporate ladder once we got rid of them Afros and Jheri Curl dos?”

I didn’t like what my co-worker had said, but I’d taken her advice. Lo and behold, a month after I traded in my braids for a sleek perm, I was promoted. The woman who had thought that she would get the position, even though she’d often come to work with a greasy hairnet hugging her head, stopped speaking to me the same day. My breath caught in my throat just thinking about this particular woman. She had slashed the tires on her ex’s car when he left her. If she could do that, she could do anything!

“Auntie, are you listening to me?” Jade yelled, startling me back to the present moment.

“Huh?” I replied, jerking my head around to face her. My face felt like something was crawling all over it. With my hand throbbing like I had arthritis, which I probably did have, I slid it up and down the side of my face. There was warm sweat on my face, not spiders like it felt like.

I sat on top of the wobbly picnic table with a can of beer in my hand with gnats, ants, and flies keeping me company. I offered a weak smile and shook my head at Jade.

“I’d rather just sit here and watch,” I told her. My body felt like a huge boulder, rocking this way and that. It was hard for me to shift my body from one position to another and not fall from my seat. Running around like a teenage athlete was out of the question. Especially with what I had on my mind.