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Authors: J. California Cooper

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BOOK: In Search of Satisfaction
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When Carlene was settled on her stomach, Yin said, “I must put the greatest pressure on your hip bones. I am going to straddle your legs for better leverage. No, no, keep them open. You see, I am too small and do not have the weight to place the proper pressure on your hip bones which we must do for the greatest results.” She crawled upon the bed,
placed one knee between Carlene’s legs and leaned with both hands on her lower back, then raised and massaged the round buttocks.

For the next ten minutes the massage continued in silence. Then Yin leaned close and could see Carlene straining, unaware of Yin any longer, straining to keep from having an orgasm and straining to have one at the same time. Perspiration broke out over her face, her lips parted. The feeling gathered, swirled around her body, went back to the points and gathered, swirling again. At last it swirled faster, faster, faster, so that she could hardly keep it down. With Yin’s knee between Carlene’s legs for balance, Carlene’s feelings could be held back no longer.

The feelings ran large, huge, back and forth over Carlene’s body, then gathered and drifted throughout her. She wanted to squeeze her legs shut, but Yin’s knee was between them. She held to Yin’s leg with her own. Hating the feelings in her body even as she held on to them. Frustrated that it had happened to her in such a manner and situation. She did not allow herself to make a sound, burying her face in the pillow at the end. But her body was fully spent, relaxed, soothed, and she lay, smothering her ending gasps as Yin got up to cover her and go wash her hands.

Looking for a towel to dry her hands, Yin lifted the one Carlene had placed over the pills, salt and packages. Yin picked up the original prescription container and read that it was for Richard Befoe. She saw that some were empty. She tasted the medicine and then the salt. Yin knew something was wrong. She took one capsule still in the original bottle and one that had been opened and refilled, put them in her pocket and placed the towel back over what was left. She finished wiping her hands and came out, unrolling her sleeves.

At that moment, Carlene remembered the pills and jerked her head up, looking around at Yin to see if she had noticed anything.

Yin spoke first, “You need to rest. I am going to rest. Minna can clean up when you are ready.” She stood at the door. “May I do anything for you before I go?”

Carlene, satisfied there was no question in Yin’s face, relaxed and turned away from Yin, saying, “I don’t believe you.”

Yin was confused. “What?”

“I don’t believe you have to … press down on those two … places.”

Yin did not smile. “In any event, I will not be able to do the massage
again. It is too hard on me. It takes too much out of me. Perhaps I will teach Minna or whomever you say … how to do it for you when you are in pain.”

“I don’t believe you have to press those two places.”

Yin sighed heavily. “Then when you next have it done, don’t touch them. Leave it out. See if there is any difference. Now … is there anything I may do for you before I go?”

Still looking away from Yin, Carlene replied, “No … no.”

As Yin turned to go she said, “We can settle our business later tonight. I have had the papers prepared.”

In a low voice, Carlene said, “I know that you are half Negro.”

Yin turned back to face the woman whose face was turned away from her. “Not that it makes any difference what you know, you were not in my mother’s womb when I was conceived. I was. How could you KNOW anything?”

“I know your … alleged … father was too old … too drunk, to make a baby. I’m sure he was impotent.”

“How sure are you?”

“I have brains.”

Yin stepped closer to the bed. “Might there not be something to know about you?”

Silence. Both of them wondered about the same thing. But Yin said, “Do you know who was in your mother’s womb when you arrived there?”

The face Carlene now turned to Yin was filled with malevolence. “My mother was a pure woman. I know my father was white.”

Yin was suddenly more tired. Taking a deep breath, she said, “You were not born knowing everything. Everyone can have a … secret. Did your parents tell you who put them in their mothers’ wombs? You THINK they were white.”

In a softer tone, for she had too much to lose, Yin said, “We are here. Red, yellow, black, brown, white, whatever. According to the Bible, you are even supposed to be my sister, at least my cousin.” She turned back to the door. “I don’t care what you or anyone else knows. I am me.” Before closing the door behind her, she said, “Sleep now, madame, sleep now. Your body has been set to rest and heal. Heal your mind.”

When Yin had gone, Carlene relaxed and stretched, smiling, feeling her body which had been quiet for so many years. She had loved the massage. She wriggled her old toes and ran her hands over the satin pillows. Finally, placing her hands on her stomach, she slept more soundly than in a long time.

While all this had been going on, by instinct the black spider had chosen this time to cross the white walls to the corner where lush plants were placed to their best advantage near the windows. The spider smelled and reached the moist dirt, scampering hastily, for this was where she prefered to live. The decaying wood, the moist dirt, the cool plants for food. She backed in, watching the movements on the bed, and made herself a permanent home.

Yin sat in her room, looking out the windows of the tall house. “Now … why did I do that? I hadn’t planned to do that. I want to go on that yacht trip. Surely there will be rich men there.” She sighed, looking at the beauty of the sun setting. Then, remembering, she took the pills from her pocket. The beauty of the sky pulled her back with its radiant colors. Moments later, she regarded the pills in her hand again. She sat there a long time. Until the sun was gone. Thinking.

Satan almost smiled.

t
he papers were signed, the money paid by Yin (which Richard gave back to Yin), repairs and cleanup work on her property began. Mr. Creed did much of the carpentry and hiring of laborers for the cleanup and yard. He was good at the job, having been Richard Befoe’s estate carpenter for years. In their daily talks, Yin learned that Richard had helped to get Creed’s son admitted into a law school which had at first declined him because of his color.

“My son didn’t want to be no lawyer or doctor,” Creed laughed. “He want to be a farmer! I tole him he be a fool to waste a chance like this. I saved my own money, so Befoe didn’t have to help wit no money. But he still takin agriculture on the side though. Just ain’t got no complete sense in that boy of mine. But this war here now, what’s startin up. I hope he don’t go.”

Yin smiled at Creed as she moved about industriously, lifting, wiping,
shifting things. “Well, I certainly hope you are right. It is good to have something you can be that will make you independent. And this war should not last long, Mr. Befoe said.”

Yin liked Mr. Creed. He made her think of Josephus, but she never mentioned Josephus to him. She had not made up her mind about her half-sister’s family yet. And now, with all the work to do in apron and head cover, washing, cleaning, planting bulbs Luke gave her from the Befoes’ garden, time passed quickly. Soon she would be able to move into her own house or part of it. She sighed. There was so much to do and she didn’t want to spend all her money until she knew where she would get more. And … a colored family could not help her now.

In the evenings when she had quit working for the day, Yin sat in the back garden at the Befoes, watching Richlene and Luke working there. Richlene loved the earth and flowers. She seemed to adore Luke, also. She had known him since he was a little boy coming to work the gardens with his father Joel. When Joel had died several years later, Luke was young, but he knew the work and needed the money desperately, so Richard had let him take over the job. Yin imagined it was innocent because Richlene seemed so innocent. Luke did, too, she decided. Emily, the young daughter of Richlene, sat and watched her mother, sometimes bringing a tool to her or a glass of water. Yin liked them, all three. She also liked Sally, the quiet efficient woman who always seemed to be writing letters to her children who seldom answered except to explain why they could not have her visit at one time or another. She tried to talk to Sally, but Sally seemed wary of others’ closeness even while she seemed to need a friend. “She is a handsome woman even though she must be over forty,” Yin thought of the slim, neat, sad but truly attractive Sally.

Yin tried to keep as unobtrusive as possible in this household so that she could stay as long as was needed. So many things seemed to be happening in this house with the melancholy feeling in it. Yin wanted time to think about them, but now she was absorbed with her own house and eager to move there. She thought of Richlene. The child-woman was slow but not dull witted. She seemed to have such common sense. Reasoning.

Evening meals were formal for the most part. Richard and Sally talked a little. Carlene spoke the most, complaints, and she was seldom answered. She was not ignored, there was just nothing to say to whatever
she said. Richlene did not speak unless spoken to, her father often patting her hand. Emily, naturally quiet, ate and watched her mother, hastily reaching to help when she felt her mother wanted something. When Carlene rebuked or scolded Richlene for little mishaps, Yin saw hatred in Emily’s eyes toward her grandmother.

When the new attorney, Russell Goode, came to replace Mr. Syntoll, he was invited as a guest in the huge house until his own place would be ready and his things brought in from Philadelphia. Richard had bought a large, outfitted boat to make travel on the river from the train more convenient to himself and it would be used to bring Mr. Goode’s things from the railway station. Mr. Goode was a settled, middle-aged man, tall, graying hair, slim, polished and well taken care of. He was a recent widower, which made his leaving Philadelphia easy. He was alone and lonely but was not seeking a wife. He turned to books. His dress was impeccable. He was quite intelligent.

Yin looked at him thoughtfully. Then, at last, seeing that Sally also looked at him when she thought no one would notice, Yin decided he was too old for herself. So life went on in the Befoe family home.

One night before turning over to go to sleep, it popped into Yin’s mind, for no particular reason, that she had not had a monthly in a couple of months. “Since I have been in Yoville! Since I left New Orleans!” She sat up in her bed, sharply, mouth opened as she remembered the porter on the train leaving New Orleans. “My God! Not that! Not pregnant! By a colored man!” The night was ruined for sleep. Yin’s mind turned over and over but could get nowhere.

She was very subdued for the next few days, wondering, worrying. “Minna’s grandma. Ma Lal. Would she know a way to get rid of it?” But at night in her bed, she held her stomach and thought of having no family of her own. And here was one in her own belly. “It would be a family! I could find a way. I would find a way to keep this child. Leave again? Back to New Orleans? Where to go?” “Oh, no,” her mind spoke back to her, “Oh, no. I have a home of my own now. I must think of a way. I just need money.”

chapter
26

w
hen Carlene discovered her hips really were helped by the massage, she wanted them on a steady basis. Yin refused to do them herself but assisted and taught a maid, one of the several in the house. Carlene complained, “I need an expert!” Yin answered, “And you will soon have one.” She smiled as she left Carlene’s rooms. “And that takes care of that!”

Another thing happened to add to the confusion of the times. Occasionally Carlene invited Yin in for a glass of sherry and a small talk before going to sleep. Actually it was to check on what Yin was doing with herself. Carlene had been thinking of Richard and his heart … and his death. She knew any strong exertion could kill him, along with the fact that he had not been getting his prescribed medicine. She had pinpointed Yin for that exertion.

This chilly evening, Yin was settled in the deep satin-cushioned chair near the lit fireplace. It had rained that day, and work had been slow at her house. Carlene was staring into the fire, thinking, planning, scheming. Suddenly she spoke, “What do you think of Yoville now?”

Yin sighed. “It is a nice little town. Peaceful. A good place to live.”

“What do you think of my sister, Sally?”

Yin sipped at her sherry. “I really have been so busy … But I think she is very nice. Quiet, but very nice.”

“What do you think of my daughter?”

Yin held her glass up, looking at the amber liquid. “I think she is a lovely person. Kind.”

“What has she given you?” Carlene asked sharply.

Yin smiled, saying, “Nothing.”

“Why did you say ‘kind’?”

Yin took a moment to think. “There is something about people, whether they give you anything or not, that makes you know they are kind. That they mean you no harm. They are not seeking …”

“What?”

“Something. Anything! I don’t know. Why all these questions?” She smiled at her hostess.

“What do you … think of Richard?”

“Carlene, what is this? You know Richard is very kind, nice. He is very quiet, also.” Yin took a sip of her sherry. “What is that medicine he takes? He does not seem … quite well.”

Carlene took a sip of her wine. “Yes … he is not well. I hope he is taking his medicine. I must ask you to help me see that he does. That ole Baily does not have a thing on his mind, but …”

“How could I see to that?”

Carlene waved her hand. “Well, not see to it. Just, perhaps, ask him, now and again.” After a moment, she continued, “He does not seem very happy, does he?”

“I don’t know. He just seems quiet.”

Carlene smiled. “When he was going to the city often, he was gayer.” There was silence, then Carlene laughed, “I imagine he misses his … friends.”

Yin smiled slightly. “I imagine.”

“I mean, his female friends.”

Yin was silent, staring into the fire.

Carlene spoke softly, “You know it has been years … years … since Richard and I have … been husband and wife … in that sense.”

BOOK: In Search of Satisfaction
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