It's All About The Moon When The Sun Ain't Shining (14 page)

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Authors: Ernest Hill

BOOK: It's All About The Moon When The Sun Ain't Shining
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“Kind of,” I said.
“Why?” she asked.
“She's your maid,” I said.
“Well, I don't see her that way,” she said. “She's much more than that to us. She's a very special human being and an integral part of our family. We love her.”
I looked at her, astonished.
“Is that hard for you to believe?”
“Never thought about it,” I said.
“Well, we do,” she said. “She's my second mother. And I love her with all my heart.”
“
Love
is a mighty strong word,” I said.
“Maybe so,” she said, “but it's how I feel, and that's why Mother and Father were so excited when I told them that you were going to law school. Of course, they were happy for you, but they were even happier for Mother Audrey. They know how much she loves you. And how hard she has worked to have your life be meaningful. She talks about you all the time.”
“So they don't think it's crazy?” I said. “A boy like me ... with parents like mine ... talking about being a lawyer.”
“Heavens no! Father thinks it's great. As a matter of fact, he has so many thoughts he would like to share with you. For example, did you know that there has never been an African-American attorney in this entire parish?”
“Do you mean in Brownsville?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “The entire parish.”
“No,” I said. “I didn't know that.”
“Neither did I,” she said, “until Father informed me.”
“Wow!” I said.
“That's why father feels it is so important for African-American men from the parish to go into the legal profession. Especially men of character such as yourself who have been raised not only to believe in a strong work ethic, but who also understand the importance of spending a significant portion of their lives thinking of others. And when I told him that you wanted to be a defense attorney, he thought that was absolutely wonderful and he said that you would make a fine attorney ... a fine one indeed.”
“Really!”
“Oh, he's absolutely convinced.”
“Hope he's right,” I said.
“Oh, I know he's right,” she said. “There's no doubt about it.”
The waiter returned with our food and placed it on our table before us and when he was done, I lifted my fork and cut a small piece of fish and brought it to my mouth. And as I did, I leaned back in my chair and looked around. And I had just begun to chew when my eyes strayed toward the door and in that instant my jaws locked and I watched in disbelief as I saw Omenita walk into the room. And as I watched her, my heart sank for she was not alone—she was with a man. And he was adorned in an expensive suit and an elegant tie and he was carrying himself in such a manner that led me to conclude that he was someone of importance. Of that I was sure. But who was he? I strained my eyes and looked. No, I had never seen him before. I lowered my head for a moment. I did not want her to see me. Then, when she was seated, I looked at him again. She was smiling and gazing upon him with eyes that I had believed were reserved only for me.
Then I realized that I had seen him before. He was older now and a little heavier and a number of years had passed, but it was him, the only other man whom she had ever loved besides me. Her former boyfriend ... Gerald.
Chapter Seventeen
U
nder the dim light of the flickering bulb, I saw him take Omenita's hand in his own and instantly I felt my pounding heart stop and I felt my eyes widen and I looked at them and for a brief moment, vague panic made me lean forward in my seat and stare. And I could feel myself drifting to a place of which I was unfamiliar and I felt myself giving in to a strange force beckoning me to rise and go to her and confront her, and I tried to will myself calm and I told myself to breathe and even in the telling, I could feel the rage mounting and I was just about to rise when I heard the soft, far-away whisper of Danielle's voice calling my name. I heard her, yet I did not hear her for both my gaze and my attention was fixated on Omenita, and though I wanted to respond to that which I had heard, I could not for now there had engulfed me a haze so thick and so dense that I felt myself in a trance, hypnotized by that which I was seeing and numbed by that which I was feeling.
“Maurice,” she summoned me again.
I heard the soft echo of her voice penetrate my consciousness and I felt my lips part and my mouth open.
“Yes,” I said.
“What is it?” she asked.
I glanced at her, then back toward the table. Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. Maybe Gerald was the reason Omenita had been so cavalier. Maybe she was involved with him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Danielle's head slowly turn toward them and when her eyes rested upon the strange faces sitting just beyond us, I saw her squint and slowly turn her head back toward me.
“Do you know them?” she asked.
I nodded, but I did not speak. She looked at them again, then back at me.
“Who are they?”
I looked at her, and I could feel my heart racing.
“She's my lady,” I said, then quickly looked away. And at that moment, there was silence. And I knew Danielle was confused. And I wanted to explain. But I could not. Suddenly, I felt myself engulfed by a wave of sadness so intense that I feared at any minute the floodgates would give way and I would weep. I saw her look at the table again, then back at me.
“Didn't know you were involved,” she replied.
“I am,” I commented. Then it was quiet again.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her glance at them again, then back at me. Then, I saw her forehead wrinkle and I knew she was trying to figure out what was going on and why my mood had suddenly changed. I turned back toward Omenita. And though I was no longer looking at Danielle I could feel her looking at me.
“Maurice,” she said gently. I heard her and yet I did not hear her. “Maurice!” she called to me again. The tone of her voice startled me and I quickly turned toward her and looked.
“Hunh?” I said.
She paused, staring.
“Is something the matter?”
“No,” I said.
“You sure?”
“Yes,” I said. “I'm sure.”
She paused again.
“You seem a little distracted,” she said.
“Wonder what she's doing here with him?” I mumbled. I saw her look at them, then shake her head and shrug.
“Who knows?” she said. “Could be any number of reasons.”
“Well, I'm going to find out,” I said.
I pushed away from the table but the sound of her voice stopped me.
“No,” she said.
I paused and looked at her.
“You'll just make a scene,” she explained.
“I don't care,” I said.
“Well, you should,” she said. “You have your future to think about. If you want to be a lawyer in this town, you can't go around getting into public confrontations. Besides, things might not be as they appear.”
“What else could this be?”
“It could be anything.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“I don't know,” she said again.
“Well, I'm going to find out.”
“No,” she said. “Not here ... not now.”
“Well,” I said, then hesitated, “what do you propose I do?”
“Wait until they leave,” she counseled. “Talk to her outside.”
“I can't sit here and watch them.”
“Then let's leave.”
“They'll see us,” I said.
She paused and looked about.
“We can leave through the back.”
She motioned for the waiter and we lingered until he came, then she paid for our meal and he escorted us out through what I assumed to be a fire exit. When we were outside, I thanked her for lunch and apologized for the situation, and I turned toward my truck but the sound of her voice stopped me.
“Do you mind if I wait with you?” she asked.
I turned and looked at her. “You don't have to,” I said.
“I know,” she said. “But I would like to.”
“Why?” I asked. “This doesn't concern you.”
“I'm afraid you're going to do something stupid.”
“I'm just going to talk to her,” I said. “That's all.”
“I would still prefer to wait with you, if it's alright.”
I was quiet, thinking. I wanted to be alone. But how could I get rid of her without hurting her feelings?
“We can wait in my car,” she said. “I'll keep you company until she comes out. And when she does, I'll leave ... I promise. I just don't want anything to happen to you. That's all.”
“Alright,” I said.
We went to her car and I sat slouched upon the passenger's seat for what seemed an eternity staring headlong at the closed restaurant door. And as I waited, I felt mount in me an anger so hot and so vile, I feared at any moment, I would tear from the car and storm into the building and confront them in a manner commiserate with the warring emotions raging inside my tormented soul. So this was what it had come to. I looked at the closed door again, and as I did, my whirling emotions overtook me. Suddenly, I reached for the door handle and was readying myself to get out when I saw the restaurant door swing open. Stunned, I fell back against the seat and watched the two of them stroll out together. Her hand was nestled in his and upon her face was a smile, and I could not let my eyes move beyond them.
“It may not be as it appears.” I heard Danielle's voice cut through the stillness.
“But what if it is?” I said.
There was a brief silence then Danielle spoke again.
“We should leave,” she said.
“No,” I said. “I need to talk to her.”
“Not now,” she said. “Not like this. Please ... let's just go.”
“I can't,” I said. “I have to talk to her and I have to talk to her right now.”
I pushed the door open and got out. I took a few hurried steps, then I called to her. From a distance, I saw her whirl and look in my direction, and as she stood statuelike watching me make my way across the lot, she still held on to Gerald's hand. Behind me, Danielle called to me again and I heard the sound of her shrill excited voice float to me across the vast open space. I heard her but I wasn't listening. My focus was on Omenita and this man holding her hand. I continued moving forward at a quick pace and when I was close, I stopped before them. I saw Omenita gaze at me. She seemed startled. She seemed vexed.
“We need to talk,” I told her.
“There's nothing to talk about,” she said in a huff.
“You call this nothing,” I said.
“I got to go, Maurice.” She turned to leave and I grabbed her arm, then she pulled away again. “No,” she said. “I mean it ... I got to go.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gerald step forward.
“Hey, man,” he said. “Why don't you let her be?”
“And why don't you mind your own business?” I said.
“Omenita is my business.”
I turned and faced him directly.
“What's that supposed to mean?” I said.
He remained quiet and I looked at Omenita but she wasn't looking at me. She was looking off in the direction of her car.
“What is this?” I asked her.
She glanced at me briefly, then looked away.
“I got to go,” she said again.
“Wait,” I said.
“Man, why don't you just leave her alone?”
“And why don't you get out of my face?” I said.
“Come on, Gerald,” Omenita said, “Let's go.”
“No,” I said. “We need to talk.”
“Say, man,” Gerald said, stepping toward me. “You heard the lady.”
“Back up off me,” I said.
“Stop it!” Omenita said. “Both of you, stop it!”
I paused and looked at her. Beyond us I could see a small group congregating near the restaurant door. They were looking in our direction.
“What is this anyway?” I asked. “And why are you here with him?”
“What right you got asking me that?”
She was incensed by the question. I could see it in her face.
“What right!” I said.
“Yeah,” she said, her voice elevated. “What right?”
I looked beyond her. A few more people had exited the restaurant. A lone white man had separated from the group and I was sure that he was trying to hear what we were saying.
“Omenita,” I said, “how can you ask me that?”
“I'm leaving,” she said.
“No,” I said. I grabbed her arm again. “Not before we talk.” She tried to pull away but I wouldn't let her. I saw the white man move a little closer, then stop. I felt Omenita struggling. I tightened my grip. I didn't want her to leave.
“Maurice!” She said, through clenched teeth. “I mean it! Let me go!”
“No,” I said. “Not before we talk.”
“Turn her loose,” Gerald demanded.
I felt Omenita pull harder and I squeezed even tighter.
“Turn her loose,” Gerald said again. “Turn her loose before I bust a cap in your crazy ass.”
In the distance, I heard a woman scream. Then I heard feet scampering across the asphalt parking lot. I turned and looked. Gerald had a gun and the barrel was pointed at my head.
“Call the police,” I heard someone shout. “Call the police.”
I saw the white man remove a cell phone. Then I saw the others hurry back into the restaurant.

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