Born Blue (11 page)

Harmon moved away from me and crossed his arms in front of hisself. He squinted his eyes mean at me, and I could see he were angry. He said, "What you say about
having to look after yourself because who else will makes me feel real sorry for you, Leshaya. We're all really sorry for you. But you act so awful it doesn't matter how sorry we feel that your life's been so hard. You can't steal our stuff and lie about it just because you never had a family before. And we can't just let you do it because we feel sorry for you, either. And whether my life is big or small, at least I know it will be honest and good and full of the people I love and who love me. I don't need anything else."

"Then why you crying 'bout your stopwatch if you don't need nothin'? You just all the time trying to talk like Mr. James with all that love-and-bein'-honest talk. Wait till you through goin' to your fancy school that I cain't go to and you ain't in this fancy house no more and you out on your own, then see in the real world if you be talkin' 'bout love and honesty and blah, blah, blah!"

Harmon waved his arms. "I can't talk to you.
You're
always attacking. It's like you want to fight all the time."

"If you cain't talk to me, then why you here talkin'? So get out. Get out of my room, already. I don't want to be talkin' to you, neither!"

He left, but first he told me I'd better return the things I took if I wanted to keep living with them.

He closed the door behind him, and I shouted through the door, "Weren't gonna keep me long, anyways. So what do I care? Why do I got to follow homework rules and talkin' rules when I gonna be sent away soon, anyways!"

I waited by the door and listened to Harmon go into his own room and close his door. I knew he were gonna go back to doing his homework. He were always doing his homework or practicing on his trumpet.

I went over to the table and chair that was in front of the gold mirror and sat down. I picked up the hairbrush and held it like a microphone and watched myself sing real quiet. I pretended I be on a stage in Muscle Shoals with lights and gold all round me, and Etta James waiting in the audience for my song. My hands and knees was shaking like I really be there singin' for Etta James. I looked at myself good in that mirror and I told myself, "They don't want you here. You got to go. You got to move on now. Ain't no other choice."

MR. JAMES AND MRS. JAMES
called up to me from downstairs. They said they wanted to have another talk with me. I looked into the mirror and told myself to be strong. I had to be stronger than them all ganging up on me. I thought 'bout them things I took Didn't know why I took them 'cept they was pretty. Each thing I took I found in a special place, all tucked in and cared for. Harmon's watch sat in a shiny silver sack lined with soft black velvet in the top drawer of his chest Mrs. James's jewelry were in a fancy box that played music, and each piece were placed in its own special spot, and gold velvet lay all round them. Even the black purse and stockings was in a drawer with perfume-smelling packets inside. They was sittin' in the drawer like they so precious a thing, I just had to have them. And I knew when I were gone from the Jameses' house, all I got to do were look on them things and I'd remember how pretty everything were in that whole house. Anyway, they had a whole
house full of pretty, they didn't need the itty-bitty things I took.

I were thinking 'bout all that when Harmon bust into my room and said, "Girl, get on downstairs. Didn't you hear them calling you?"

"Yeah, I'm comin'," I said, acting like I didn't forget but I were just cool and takin' my time.

I went on down to the library, and Mr. James and Mrs. James was sittin' together on their long sofa, holding hands. I stayed standing in front of them, telling myself how I be stronger than them any day, even if they do hold hands.

Right off they ask me 'bout them things that disappeared. I said I didn't know where their things be, but I would help them look.

Mrs. James told me to come sit by her, so I did, and she put her arm round me and said she would let me pick out something nice from her jewelry box that I could have, but it was real important that I tell her the truth and return her things.

I hung my head and got myself to crying. I said I didn't know what happened to her stuff, but I could pay her how much it cost so she could buy everything that she lost.

Mrs. James's voice got hard-sounding after I said that, and it made me go stiff hearing her talk. She said that telling the truth be way more important than the things that be missing. She said they weren't lost, they were taken from her.

I figured if tellin' the truth be more important to them, then they wasn't gonna miss what I took much, and what I took were way more important than tellin' the truth, to me. Anyway, I couldn't turn round and tell them a different story all the sudden, like, "Oh yeah, I forgot. I did take them things." Either way, they wasn't gonna keep me. If I lie, they say they don't want no liar livin' with them, and if I say I stole it, they say they don't want no thief in the house. If I stuck with what I said, then least ways I got to keep the pretty things. So when Mr. James told me I needed to tell the truth, I cried real hard and said, "Honest, I swear to God, I didn't take nothin'. Everybody always blaming me for everything. That social worker that come said it be my fault I got kidnapped. It always my fault."

I fell against Mrs. James and cried all out.

Mr. James said the social worker said no such thing. He said she would be coming to the house tomorrow to talk to me and if I wanted to, I could straighten that out with her then.

I lifted my head from off Mrs. James and looked at Mr. James. His face looked so cold at me, it made my throat go dry. He told me to go on and get ready for bed 'cause it were late.

I went up to my room and packed up my stuff. I didn't need no family, anyway. Didn't need no rules and people always ganging up, they always right and me always wrong.

When everybody went to sleep, I took my laundry
bag and snuck downstairs, going through the kitchen to get outside. I passed the phone on the way and set my bag down. I punched in Mama Linda's number, just to see. Maybe she were sorry 'bout what she done and wanted me to come see her. I might could stop by before I went on to Muscle Shoals and got famous.

Weren't nobody answer, though. I hung up the phone and dragged my laundry bag outside. I dragged it down to the end of the Jameses' driveway and hid it under a thick bunch of bushes. Then I went back to the house and went to sleep. Weren't no use runnin' away at night. I could just as easy run away in daylight.

NEXT MORNING MR. JAMES
drove me down the long driveway to my bus stop, same as usual, only we didn't say nothin' to each other. I could tell he hated me so much he weren't never gonna speak to me again. I got out at the bottom of the drive and held my hand on the car when it rolled on past me, feeling the warm metal of it When Mr. James were gone from sight, I hid the pair of Mr. James's glasses I found on the seat in the car in my already stuffed-to-bulging backpack and got behind the bushes where I left my laundry bag the night before.

The bus come along a few minutes later, and the bus driver opened the door and waited for me. He waited there 'bout a minute or so, and I looked up through the bushes, watching the kids' faces in the windows, seeing them talking and moving round on the bus like it just another day and they don't got a care in the world. Then the door closed up and the bus driver went on.

I crawled out from the bush then and waited 'bout
twenty more minutes for the taxi I called up earlier from the house to come pick me up, and I got in with my laundry bag and backpack and rode away.

The taxi driver were real nosy, so I told him how I were gonna visit my aunt Doris, and I told him all about her, and I got so excited thinking 'bout the real Doris, I forgot I weren't really going to see her at all.

I guess he believed me well enough, 'cause he dropped me off at the bus station and went on. I dragged my stuff inside the station, but I didn't buy me a ticket to nowhere yet. I wanted to call Jaz first, figuring he might want to come to Muscle Shoals with me and watch me get famous.

I got his number the time he give me his new songs. I said I would take the songs home and practice but in case I had a question, I wanted his number. Never did get nervy enough to call till I were at the bus station, heading out of town. I knew his mama worked, and he didn't have no daddy, so I knew a weekday morning would be a safe time to call. But I forgot how early it were. My phone call woke Jaz up, 'cause he dropped outta school and he didn't need to get up so early. He sounded sleepy and hoarse in the voice.

"Hey, Jaz. It's me, Leshaya," I said, when he said hello.

"Shay? What time is it? Where are you?"

"I don't know. I guess it be round eight. I'm at the bus station downtown. You wanna go to Muscle Shoals with me? I'm goin' to Muscle Shoals."

"Why?"

"I'm gonna live down there. I'm gonna meet Etta James and I'm gonna sing. I can't sing and get famous in this poky town. Anyways, I got money."

"Yeah, how much?"

"Thousands. Thousands and thousands."

"For real?"

"Yeah, Jaz, for real. So, you comin'?"

Jaz took a second to think, then he said, "Okay. I'll go for a while. I was gonna quit my job, anyway. You say you got lots of money?"

"Lots."

"Where'd you get all that money? Never mind. I'll come, but I ain't leavin' my car. She's goin' with us. I'll pick you up. Give me an hour."

He hung up, and I dragged my stuff over to a chair and sat down to wait I waited more than a hour and a half, but I didn't care 'cause I knew he were comin' and 'cause I were thinkin' 'bout Harmon, and that fill in the time. I weren't even at the Jameses' a month and, fast as that, me and Harmon wasn't friends no more. I thought 'bout that lots, but then I told myself it didn't matter. Didn't need no friend that always thinking he so special all the time. Anyway, I got a new friend. I got Jaz.

Jaz come on into the bus station lookin' round for me, and I called him over to where I were sitting. He looked at my laundry bag and said, "Man, you was serious, huh? What happened?"

I shrugged. "I didn't like the way the Jameses was
treatin' me. Besides, it's time I be livin' on my own. I'm grown. I don't need to be livin' with no parents watching over me, know what I'm sayin'?"

Jaz took up my laundry bag and heft it onto his shoulders, and, Lord, he had some fine shoulders. We walked on out to his car with me following behind, holdin' my hand in the back pocket of his jeans so we wouldn't get separated.

Jaz shoved my bag in the backseat of his little car. The car were a red Corvette, kinda old lookin' 'cause the red weren't shiny, but inside were black and real clean, and when I sat down in it, the seat gave a noise like a squeak. Jaz called his car Shirley or Shirl, like she alive or something, and I got such a kick out of that. I called her, "His Girl, Shirl," and Jaz thought that were a hoot.

"Yeah! My Girl, Shirl!" he said. He pushed down on the accelerator and we shot outta town, just like that! And the car roared like it happy to be racing away from Tuscaloosa. Jaz turned on some music—a tape of the band—and I started singing and so did Jaz, and we just flew on up to Muscle Shoals in His Girl, Shirl, like she were a jet plane. Seemed like it didn't take no time at all to get there, 'cause we sung songs the whole way, and I had my window down and so did Jaz, and I felt so free singin' and flyin' in our jet. Yeah, flyin' in His Girl, Shirl, goin' to Muscle Shoals to see Etta James and get famous. All my dreams was finally 'bout to come true.

JAZ SLOWED DOWN
when we rolled into Muscle Shoals, and all's I seen were nothin'.

"Where everybody be at?" I said, leanin' sideways and sticking my head out the window. "Where's the theaters and big studios? Where's all the fancy people?"

"Girl, what are you talking about? We're not in Hollywood. We're in Muscle Shoals."

"But Mr. James said all these famous people sing here—Aretha and Etta and the Rolling Stones. They made all those big hits here. Where all the rock stars and jazz clubs and stuff? This ain't the right place. This place is pokier than Tuscaloosa, even."

"This is the right place," Jaz said. "It just ain't Hollywood."

"Hollywood? Shit! This place the pits!"

Jaz rolled on through the nothin' street, and I were so
disappointed lookin' out the window, I couldn't speak The shock of Muscle Shoals were so big I just kinda froze in myself.

Jaz pulled off the road at some hole-in-the-wall coffee shop and said, "Let's eat. You'll feel better after we eat."

I didn't feel like eating at no poky coffee shop. I wanted to eat at one of them fancy places with tiny lights and dark red carpets on the floors and music playin'. I seen pictures of them places and I thought Muscle Shoals were gonna be full of that kind of thing. But all this small town had was fast-food joints and nothing much else, 'cept the Tennessee River running alongside it, making fog. Were like we all the sudden stepped into some old-timey black-and-white movie. The whole town felt black-and-white.

"You sure this is the right Muscle Shoals?" I asked Jaz when we sat down to eat and I looked out the greasy window and saw the parking lot.

"Ain't no other," Jaz said. He waved at the waitress and said we was ready to order. Since I were paying, Jaz ordered most of the menu. Man, that dude could eat. I just had me a Coke and some bread I told the waitress not to toast I made me some sugar balls and drank down the Coke, but I didn't feel much better. But Jaz felt great after he finished off his eggs and two orders of waffles and bacon and hashbrowns and toast and coffee and oatmeal and orange juice.

When we walked outta there, Jaz put his arm round my shoulder and breathed deep like he just owned the world, and I snuggled in close 'cause felt to me like I just lost it. How were I gonna get famous singin' in a place like this?