Finding My Thunder (7 page)

Finding My Thunder 11

It
took Mama two weeks to pass from this life. To be swallowed by life, is how
Naomi put it, for that is how the scriptures spoke of death, she said.

Hardest
thing I’d ever done, besides holding Mama’s hand while she passed, hardest
thing was picking out her casket. I don’t know why it was the worst cause there
were several things contending for that place, but it was the worst finding a
box for Mama, one that could hold her and her secrets.

Lonnie
said there was money for it and then he bolted from the room at the undertakers
and left me to decide. Well, I smelled the alcohol. The room had filled with
it. I pointed to the cheapest box they had. It didn’t matter now.

Lonnie
did not come to see her until that last day and then he was too late and she
was already passed but they let us sit with her, me and Naomi, until he came. He
went in there and when he saw her he bent over and put his hands on the bed to
hold himself up. “Oh God,” he said.

Naomi
stayed in her chair. She did not speak or go to him. He wouldn’t have wanted
that.

“She
had it so hard,” he said, “never could get
goin
’.”

And
I wondered he didn’t try to make it easier then. I wondered so many things but
there was no talking amongst the three of us.

The
only other ones who came were the ladies from Naomi’s church, coming in a
couple of times to pray around Mama, circling the bed, hats and dresses, a
flower garden they were around her holding hands while they took turns saying
the words and Mama, her eyes closed, a tube running in her now to drain the
fluid from her lungs, fluid she needed, the doctor said, and I watched her life
run into the vial even while they prayed.

And
in the evenings, Danny picking me up outside to take me home so I could shower
and change. He didn’t say he would come at five o’clock after that first time. He
was always there.

We
didn’t talk so much. I sat by him and he sang to me with his arm around and I
put my hand over his heart and sometimes my ear. I ran into the house, Lonnie
was never there. I fed my sooner and cleaned up and got clothes and before he
dropped me off I said, “Thank you, Danny.”

And
he said, “You’re welcome,” in such a final way I knew for sure he wasn’t coming
back. All night I was with Mama and I said, well why would he come back? I
wouldn’t. But the next evening… there he was.

So
the day we buried Mama, we stood at the grave, Lonnie and me, Naomi and a group
of folks from her flock. They were mine too, my family. Though Lonnie did not
look into this, not ever, the life I led…he did not look.

Some
back standing off by themselves were Danny and Robert. They came separate but they
stood together cause like it or don’t, we were categorized.

So
after words from the funeral director we walked away from that box and the
ladies did come to me clucking and smoothing over my hair and patting my back
and pressing their lips against my cheek and dollars into my hand, too. And Lonnie
went off stumbling over the graves, just off so he wouldn’t have to see it.

Naomi
said they were going to her house and they would lay out the food in our
kitchen and they would go and I should tell Lonnie. So I did tell him, and he
nodded, but he didn’t look at her, and she didn’t need it cause I already knew
how it was and so did she.

Robert
was first to cross over to me. He hugged me and I thanked him for coming and we
joked how he’d cleaned up and even wore a tie around his neck. He went up to Lonnie
and they shook hands and they talked. Danny came to me then, but Lonnie looked
on. I didn’t want him to see how it was so I tried to let the light stay out of
my face.

“Thank
you for coming, Danny,” I said.

He
nodded and he smiled, but his eyes held sorrow for me.

He
followed Robert’s lead and shook Lonnie’s hand and Lonnie said there was food
at the house and they could eat, then he guessed they’d take the day off but
the next day, Friday, they’d try to get something done.

Robert
said, “Lonnie…take the weekend at least.”

But
Lonnie said, “It don’t make no difference now. Might as well work.”

I
looked at Lonnie and I let myself see it, his relief.

“You
can ride with me,” Lonnie said to me.

I
did not look at Danny, but I wanted him. Just him. I followed Lonnie, for he
had not beckoned me his way. Not ever. And I did not know how it would be. But
I would shortly.

So
I got in his truck and he took off driving but not toward home. It was some
miles before he spoke and when he did my ears were listening hard.

“I
tried to do right by her,” he said.

My
breath pulled in.

“She
wasn’t ever right. That one lives behind…you believe her. But
Renata
was crazy from the get out.”

I
felt the hot lead of my disagreement, but I wasn’t about to stop him.

“Her
and that one…that old Negro
granma
you love so
much…they been
plottin
’ day one. Behind my back
whisperin
’ all the time. She’s afraid of me and she better
be that old heifer.”

If
I defended her I wouldn’t know what else he was fixing to say, so I stayed
quiet. But I felt hate for him and nothing else.

“Truth
is she gonna find herself in a fix now. She has no idea. We get home they
better be cleared out. You kids can eat…but I ain’t
eatin
’
their food. It’s a new damn day.”

“What…what
are you going to do?” I asked.

“Time
I’m through she’ll be
runnin
’ her black ass out of
there. I own the land goes right to her door.”

He
reached across me then and flipped open the glove box. He reached in for the
bottle there. He pulled the cork out with his teeth and spit that from the
window. Then he took a hefty drink, then another and the smell of whiskey
fought with the iron.

“Stop
the truck,” I said.

“I
ain’t
stoppin
’ out here. You got no say in what
happens so you best go along and finish your school. You can work at the shop
and be a white girl first time in your life. ”

“Stop
the truck,” I said a little louder.

“You
hear what I say? ‘Bout
actin
’ white? Folks ask me
about you. You and her always holed up, but I got to be in this community and
they ask what you are. You go around all the time with her…with those
others…you become that in people’s eyes. It ain’t natural how you and her
are…her always
touchin
’ you. It ain’t right. You
gonna work for me you
gotta
behave like a white
girl.”

I
did not know rage could close my throat. But he had never come for me before,
always for Mama. So this is what she’d done…for me. I hadn’t understood. But
now I did. Mama was gone and he stepped right up to me.

“You
best get used to
listenin
’. You’re too much like
her.”

“She
was my mother. But you…I ain’t so sure.”

He
slammed the brakes then. “Why you say that?”

I
stared at him, at the thick moustache and the lips and the words that came from
the lips. I couldn’t get up to his eyes.

“I’m
gonna walk,” I said.

Then
I reached over and grabbed that flat bottle out of his hand and he yelled,
“Hey.”

After
I was out I started to walk the way we had come from, back toward town. He
still yelled, “Bring my bottle back you little bitch.” But I kept walking and
he took off, leaving rubber behind.

I
tipped my head back and took a swig of that alcohol and my head about blew off.
I coughed, but I liked the burn and the tears it brought, and the coughing, and
I did spit, I spat him out. I spat him into the road.

And
I walked and walked. My feet hurt and at some point I kicked off my shoes and
kept going. The ground was hot so I stayed to the grass where I could and I
drained that bottle and threw it away, too.

I
ended up at the high school on the edge of our civilization on the football
field. “Rah, Rah Danny,” I called out before I fell and rolled onto my back. I
looked at the sky, a faded blue canopy shimmering with heat and the sun beat on
me and my heart answered. I lifted my hand so I would appear in all that
expanse. And it was like magic. I existed.

Some time
later I came too, and I was on the ground at the
high school, on the field cause I could see the wooden bleachers in the
distance. I stared up at the evening sky and I felt the earth under me, against
my back. “Mama,” I whispered.

Her
spirit was set free, Naomi said.

At
the last she breathed so shallow. Sometimes I thought she’d stopped but she’d
start again.

I
remembered looking over the edge of the cliff at the quarry and seeing Danny in
the water. When I leapt, I went to him.

I
wondered if death was like that…a big scary leap into something grand, so
grand, something like love with Jesus waiting in the center. I wanted to
believe that kind of love held her forever...and ever.

Naomi
said so. Naomi said it was all love, everything…just love.

And
I was holding that thought…when Danny suddenly appeared, standing over me. He
still wore his dress pants and his white shirt. He was looking down at me,
hands in his pockets.

“Hey,”
I tried to whisper but my throat felt sore.

He
looked me up and down for a while and looked some more at my face and I didn’t
have any pride about it.

He
dropped on his knees. I wanted to tell him he’d get grass stains on his pants,
but my pink dress was probably ruined already and I wouldn’t ever wear it again
anyway. And I felt for where that dress was on my legs and what I was showing
for he was still looking the length of me, and it was twisted some and my legs
showed naked, and when I reached to right it, he pulled it with me, and
straightened it, then seemed to study that he had it right. And he said, “You
lost your shoes. Your feet are all dirty.”

So
he was on his knees and he dropped to his butt then he lay beside me and let
out a big sigh. We were looking up at the sky and it was pretty quiet and dark
gray blue and the sound of traffic was far off and the night bugs singing.

“I
ain’t ever been alive when she wasn’t,” I said.

He
reached some and took my hand and we laid there and held hands between us.

“I
been
lookin
’ for you for hours,” he said.

I
counted twenty-one lightening bugs, just there, right above us.

“We
have to kill him. Would you help me? Kill Lonnie?” I asked. Odd, when I’d been
thinking so hard about love. “He’s such a hateful racist bastard,” I said, and
that rage was breaking free some.

Danny
laughed like I’d been joking.

“How
old were you when your daddy died?” I asked him.

“Two.”

“You
remember it?”

“No.
Just one thing…tall people saying I was cute and wearing this blue coat.”

“I
wish I was too little to know. How’d he die?”

“On
the job. Tractor turned over.”

“I’m
sorry.”

He
laughed again. “Not your fault Grunier.”

“Did
she remarry quick?”

“Too
quick. Right away. Paul was widowed too. He had Sukey.”

“I
didn’t know. So Sukey lost his mother.”

“Yeah.
She died having him.”

“Wow,”
I whispered.

“Yeah.
Wow.” He lifted my hand and played with my fingers. “You know what my Dad’s
name was before they changed it?”

I
just looked at him.

“
Italiano
.”

“Danny
Italiano
,” I whispered. “You look like some dark
Italian.”

He
laughed again. “You reek of alcohol and you talk like you’re still drunk.”

“I
am.”

“You
ever been drunk before?”

“No.”

“Hilly,
Hilly” he said.

“I
took it from Lonnie. He was mad and I got out of the truck and he was yelling
for me to bring it back. He didn’t care if I had to walk back from the
bottoms…he just wanted his whiskey.”

“Lonnie’s
a dick, Hilly. Here you walked all that way. Damn. That’s why I pushed him with
the radio. I did it with coaches too. After Paul…I want to see what’s there. So
I push a little and…it’s like jarring the table and if the glass is too full…it
spills. Then you see the mess…then you know.”

I
studied him a bit. He had just let me see the inside of himself. He was more
like me than I realized. And our dads…“Paul…is like Lonnie?”

“Similar.”

“I
never knew….”

“I
was the reminder…you know? If you see the picture, the one Mom kept and gave to
me…my real dad is this really dark guy…I mean as dark as Naomi.”

“You’re
like him.”

“Paul
would go crazy over me keeping my shirt on.”

“You
and Sukey lived on those bicycles all summer and you never wore a shirt, it was
always in your back pocket.”

He
laughed. “It drove him crazy.”

We
were quiet for a while.

“She
dropped him a kid every year to make up for it. For me.”

I
looked at him. “He’s very proud of you. I mean…how could he not be? He was
always at your games. What more could he want than…you?”

“You
think he was proud? He wanted to be seen. He wanted to make sure everyone knew
he hadn’t made a mistake marrying a woman with a kid as dark as me. He’s never
been proud of me. Fuck him.”

More
quiet and it grew darker.

“He
used to hit Mom. I’d get in the way and he’d throw me around. Sukey would join
in, he’d try to get Paul off and Paul would smack him, too. Sukey…wasn’t good
at anything…and Paul rode him. So I took over…I took over with Sukey…protecting
him.”