Getting to Happy (23 page)

Gloria pressed the palm of her hand against her chest like a schoolmarm. “Oh no, that won’t be necessary.”

“Well, some work better than others.”

“I’ve never been in a store quite like this before.”

“No need to be embarrassed, sistah. We all have needs and sometimes we have to satisfy them.”

“I suppose there’s some truth to that.”

“Feel free to turn them on. Some vibrate. Don’t be afraid to hold them to see how warm they get.”

Gloria lowered her head and looked at her feet. She didn’t know this young lady, and here they were talking about penises. As she headed toward the door Gloria noticed a shelf full of clitoris stimulators. She must’ve walked right past them when she came in. Between the creams and oils, feathers and whips, plus stacks of movies, Gloria was a little weirded-out by it all. “Thank you very much,” she said to the young woman, who now had a line at the counter.

“You’re quite welcome. Have a nice day, and come back to see us soon,” she said.

“I’ll do that.” Gloria got in her car and headed straight for the salon. She decided to keep her mouth shut and not tell anybody what a fool she had made of herself. Her girlfriends especially. They’d have a field day.

The music met her at the back door. John Legend, to be exact. At forty-three, Joseph still held down the music front. He often bumped heads with Twyla and Joline. They loved hip-hop. He tolerated it. They loved rap. He hated it, couldn’t stand the language: everybody was a bitch, a ho, a motherfucker or a fag. Gloria would not allow any of it in the salon. Right next to the front door was a big sign that read:

No Profanity
No Unnecessary Gossip
No Loud Talking on Cell Phones
(turn off all ringers, including ringtones)
No negative comments about anyone based on
race, physical features, gender or sexual preference.
Absolutely no personal checks.
No hot food.
No dogs. No children under 9 or 10
(unless they are getting their hair done).
We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone.
So relax. We hope you enjoy our services.
(10-20% discount on all referrals)
The Management
OASIS HAIR & BEAUTY

“Good afternoon, everybody.” Gloria waved as she headed toward her office.

“What up, Ms. Glo?” Joline asked, never expecting an answer. The tips of her blond dreadlocks were pink today.

“Hi there, cutie,” Twyla said. She had greeted Gloria the same way each and every day for the past three years.

“Hey, Miss Thang,” Joseph said. He gave her the two-cheek kiss even as he struggled, trying to cornrow Chrysanthemum’s one-inch snatch of hair so he’d be able to stitch an eighteen-inch bone-straight weft onto it. He was shaking his head so she couldn’t see him.

“Hey, baby.”

“You need some help with the vacuum?” he asked.

“Oh, shoot!”

“If you forgot my Brasso I’m going to beat you.”

“I’m sorry, Joseph. They ran late at the imaging place and I was rushing to get back here.”

“Rushing for what?”

“Yeah, rushing for what?” Joline asked.

“Just stuff I need to take care of. I’ll pick everything up tomorrow. Promise.”

“Well, I’ll let you off the hook today, and we can make Twyla sweep up.”

“I don’t mind,” Twyla said. She was prettier than most of the girls in those rap videos on BET. Her maple skin looked like satin. Today, her hair was pushed back and brushed up on top of her head like one huge comma.

“Not to worry. I’ll do it,” Joseph said.

When Sister Monroe walked through the door, Gloria almost didn’t recognize her. She was half of her old self. She looked weird, as if her head was now too big for her body. Her hair was no longer flame red but burgundy. Her roots were silver and those three-inch stilettos she was famous for wearing had been replaced by hush puppies. She still limped as if she weighed three-hundred-plus pounds.

“Hello there, Sister Monroe,” Joseph said. “You are looking fabulous! Those missing pounds certainly agree with you.”

“Why, thank you, Joey. It ain’t no fun feeling like you walking into church on a bed of hot coals.”

“I hear you Sister Monroe. And it’s Joseph. But Joey is okay, too.”

“You all can call me by my real name now, too: it’s Johnnie Lee. I quit my old church a long time ago. I worship at a non-what is it? demo, deno—demoninational church where you don’t have to prescribe to just one religion. Anyway, it’s nice to see at least one familiar face in here, Joseph. I see you finally got married!”

He looked at his wedding band. “I did,” he said, and left it at that. He and Javier were married in Costa Rica a few years ago. They’d been together ten. It took a while for some folks to accept their union, since Gloria had insisted Joseph not hide it. Today, however, he didn’t feel like breaking it down to Sister Monroe or Johnnie Lee.

“You had any kids yet?”

“They’re on the horizon.”

“That’s good,” she said, and headed to Gloria’s office. “Chile,” she said without even thinking about knocking, “I need to give you a hug with all you been through. You know I loved me some Marvin and you have been in my prayers nightly, baby.”

Gloria stood up and accepted her hug, all the time hoping Sister Monroe wouldn’t be inclined to compare body notes. “It’s so good to see you, too, Sister Monroe. You have certainly been missed around here. You were our live entertainment.”

“I know you all had to miss me. I’m blessed and highly favored. I could feel your spirit all the way out there in the Mojave Desert. How you doing, baby? Hanging in there?”

“I’m hanging in there. You look fantastic. You truly do.”

Sister Monroe tried and failed to blush. “I certainly try. I may not have but ten or twenty years left, but I’m going looking as foxy as I can. Lord willing.” She decided not to bother telling Gloria her real name. It could wait. She turned and looked out at the salon. “I sure like what you’ve done to this new place. It’s lively.”

The walls were pale gray. The workstations were bold: chartreuse, cranberry and purple.

“Thanks. I was looking for a much bigger place so I could add a day spa, but a lot has changed. I’m not so sure now. I just have to see how it goes.”

“Un-hun. The Lord doesn’t give us more than we can handle. He will make a way when it feels like there is no way. Anyway, which one of them chil’ren is Joline?”

Gloria points to her.

“You mean to tell me that little white girl is supposed to do my hair? What is she doing in here?”

“Working, Sister Monroe.”

“I was baptized Johnnie Lee, Gloria. And I would really appreciate it if you would call me that from now on. Why can’t the pretty young girl”—moving her chin toward Twyla—“just standing there doing nothing—why can’t she do my hair?”

“Because she’s waiting for a client, Johnnie Lee.”

“Look, I am not prejudiced. None whatsoever. You sure she knows what to do with my hair?”

“I wouldn’t have her doing it if I was worried.”

“Well, one way or the other, you’ll be seeing me more often now that I’ve moved back home. You go to church any Sundays?”

“Some. I think Joline is waving for you.” Gloria smiled and shook her head as Sister Monroe limped away. Johnnie Lee my foot, she thought, shaking her head. Before she had a chance to boot up the computer and start sifting through all the mail, the young men who sold the DVDs strutted into the shop with their black leather bags thrown over their shoulders. They waved to Gloria and ushered her to come on out.

Neither Gloria nor anyone in here had ever bothered to ask where or how these young men got these DVDs—most of which included quite a selection of movies that were often still in theaters. Sometimes they had copies days after the film had opened, and not the ones where you saw silhouettes of folks getting up to go to the bathroom or carrying big bags of popcorn. You didn’t hear any laughter. No coughing. No babies crying or loud comments about what was happening on the screen. They boasted about how they had mostly “directors’ cuts” because they “got it like that.”

The last time they were here one of them had said, “In a minute, we gon’ be getting all our DVDs in high definition, so you know that means there’s gon’ be a slight price increase. We should charge about thirteen but since Ms. Gloria and her customers are loyal patrons we gon’ give y’all our special discount: one for eleven, two for twenty or three for twenty five. You can’t beat that with a stick.”

Like everybody else, Gloria was curious about what up-to-the-minute movies they had today. She had wanted to see
Diary of a Mad Black Woman
and
Crash,
but she hadn’t had the energy or the ability to be still for twenty minutes unless she was lying down. Gloria laughed at the thought that the last movie she and Marvin had seen was
Meet the Fockers,
and the last one she’d seen without him was when she took her grandkids to see
The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie.

“Why haven’t we seen you guys in so long?” Joseph asked. “You know we need our celluloid fix.”

“We had family problems we had to deal with, and after we settled all that we needed a real vacation, brotha man. We went to Cabo. Sweeeeet! But them waves they got down there ain’t no joke. They’ll kill a brother, and can’t none of us swim so we wasn’t about to get in no ocean no kinda way. But. We partied like we was Prince. Loved it. Even stayed a few extra days. But we back. And here’s the new printout of our inventory. Take a look-see. And hey, again, sorry for the inconvenience.”

Some of the first-timers or irregulars were letting out squeals. Gloria had left her glasses on her desk. “Just tell me a few of the latest ones, baby.”

“Well, we got
Crash, Star Wars: Episode III, Batman Begins and
. . .”

“Batman isn’t on DVD yet,” Chrysanthemum said.

Everybody just gave her a look.

“Go on,” Joseph said, while pulling the thread at the tip of that curved needle just a little tighter through one of her cornrowed braids.

“As I was saying. Just this morning we got
Mr. & Mrs. Smith, March of the Penguins
and
Slutty Summer
.”

“I can only afford two,” Joline said. Sister Monroe just stared at herself in the mirror, waiting for Joline to make one mistake so she would have an excuse to jump out of that chair.

“I’ll take
Crash
and
Mr. & Mrs. Smith
. I heard they’re both good,” Gloria said. This would fulfill her promise to Bernadine and they would start having Blockbuster Night again.

“What’s
Slutty Summer
about, I wonder?” Joseph asked, and he started laughing because he was looking directly at Sister Monroe.

“Ain’t this illegal?”

The ten or twelve customers under dryers, being shampooed, getting cut or permed or just waiting on the long sofa reading
Jet, Essence, Ebony,
or
Black Hair
or
People
—including the salesmen—all gave her the most ridiculous look ever.

“No, it is not illegal, ma’am,” one of the young men said.

“Then I spoke out of turn. Would somebody mind picking a couple out for me?”

No one said a word.

“I will,” Twyla said.

“Check it out, Miss Gloria. And by the way, we are so sorry about your loss. How you feeling these days?”

“I’m feeling much better. Thank you for asking.”

“That’s wonderful. Okay, looka here. We got
The Longest Yard, Monster-in-Law
—that’s the one with old fine Jennifer Lopez in it—then we got
Inside Deep Throat
—wait, scratch that one—we got
Because of Winn-Dixie
. . .”

“Because of win-who?” Gloria asked.

“Winn-Dixie! It’s some corny white movie, but a lotta black folks seem to dig it. Anyway, we got the Pooh movie for the little ones,
The Pacifier
for the bigger ones and
The Ring Two
for anybody who like scary movies, but this one is just white folks tripping on some weird stuff that don’t make no sense and it ain’t all that scary but you didn’t hear it from me. Anyway, for anybody looking for some real excitement we should have
War of the Worlds
tomorrow. That one’s been hard to get. Don’t be scared to check out our backlist. Our inventory is huge. My cell number is on the bottom, so if we don’t have what you want on us, we deliver. Same day. Just give us a two-hour window. Two dollars. Gas is going up up up. Ms. Gloria, may I use your restroom, please?”

“Yes, you may.”

“And for being so nice, yours are free today.”

“Thank you. And tell me your name again, young man?”

“Marvin. The same as your husband’s. Don’t you remember me telling you that a while back?”

“I do now.”