It's All About The Moon When The Sun Ain't Shining (16 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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I watched him climb into his car and drive away. I was still watching the car when I heard Danielle speaking to me.
“Are you going to be okay?” Danielle asked me.
“I'll be alright,” I said.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“I'm sure,” I said.
She paused a moment, and I saw her looking toward her car.
“Well,” she said softly, “I'll see you on Sunday.”
“Okay,” I said. “See you Sunday.”
And when she was gone, I climbed into the truck and I drove back to the diner. And when I walked in, Daddy and the crew were at their stations working. I looked at the clock. I was late ... only a few minutes, but late nonetheless. I looked at Daddy and he looked at me.
“Sorry,” I said.
“Ain't had no trouble, hunh?”
“A little,” I said.
“Nothing serious, I hope.”
I shook my head and went to work.
Chapter Nineteen
I
sank my hands into the warm, soapy water. Behind me, I could hear the dishes clanging and the soft, steady murmur of chattering voices emanating deep from within the diner. And in the distance, I heard Daddy tell Jake that we should finish a little early today, and inside I secretly hoped that this was true, for try as I may, I could not shake the image of Omenita climbing into the car with Gerald, and as I thought of the two of them together, it occurred to me that if I did not talk to her now there was the very real possibility that I could lose her forever.
And because the thought of that reality was too painful to bear, I worked steadily until it was time to go home and not once did I speak of her or of what had happened or of what I was feeling. Nor did I allow my mind to stray to the fragile spot of my innermost fears, instead, I told myself that I would remain optimistic until day's end and then I would go to her and make her understand that which in my heart I knew she must have also known—I loved her and she loved me, and whatever terrible thing had brought us to this wretched point, we could work it out and make it right and move forward with our lives together.
I was more than ready to leave when I heard Daddy yell, “quitting time!” I had not known this thing that happened today would happen and because I had not expected it, I could feel myself falling apart inside. Yes, I had made a terrible mistake, and I could not help but worry that I had overplayed my hand and as a result Omenita had done that which I had not believed she would ever do. Move on.
I put my things away and followed my father out to the truck, and as we walked, I could feel the frigid air about my ears and I thought how nice it would be to snuggle with Omenita under a cozy blanket and the thought of the two of us together caused my spiraling emotions to sink even deeper, for in my heart, I knew that under the circumstances that was highly unlikely.
There was a tune on the radio. An old school tune with which I was unfamiliar. It was soft and soothing, and though it was not my kind of music, I was thankful for it nonetheless for it filled the quietness between Daddy and me, and for a brief moment it lulled my senses and eased my mind, and as I began to relax, I found myself looking up the road, far up the road, and that is precisely what I was doing when I heard my father speak.
“Silas called in today,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” I said, acknowledging that I had heard him.
“Said he'd like to come in tomorrow and finish out the week.”
“Guess he's feeling better,” I said.
“Some, I reckon. But probably just need the time more than anything else. After all he does have a family to feed.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “I understand.”
“Had hoped you could be with us at least until Monday.”
“That's alright,” I said, and I turned my head and looked at him, and when I did, he looked at me and smiled.
“You did a good job for us,” he said. “Everybody up there talking about what a good worker you are. And how well you handle yourself. I'm real proud of you, son. But, then I reckon you know that.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “I do.”
“You turned out to be a fine man,” he said. “A fine man indeed.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“I mean it, son. You're a good man. Always remember that.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “I will.”
Then it was quiet again, and I could feel the rugged truck slowly plowing along, and I could see the vast countryside with the long row of houses just off the highway tucked neatly behind the railroad tracks, and I followed the tracks with my eyes, and out of the corner of my eye I could see Daddy, and he, too, was looking beyond the railroad tracks toward the houses. And I knew he was thinking about Grandpa Luke, and how he was getting along, and how he didn't really want him living by himself. But I wasn't thinking about that. I was thinking about Omenita and that man she was with, and what I should do. Maybe I had lost her, and if I had, it was all my fault. I should never have pushed her. I should have never taken that stupid ring back. Why had I done that? Why?
Daddy pulled into the yard and I bound out and followed him up the steps. He pulled the door open and we went inside. Mama had been in the kitchen, cooking. But when she heard the door open and close, she walked into the living room. She stopped when she saw us, but she did not look at Daddy, instead, she kept her eyes focused on me. Even when she spoke to Daddy, she only glanced away briefly then quickly fixed her gaze back on me.
“Something smell good,” Daddy said.
Mama glanced at him briefly.
“It's on the table,” she said, then quickly fixed her gaze back on me.
I moved forward to speak.
“Hi, Mama,” I said.
She frowned. “Mister, don't you ‘Hi, Mama' me, you hear?”
I looked at her as if I didn't know what she was talking about. Then I frowned and shrugged.
“What!” I said.
“What!” she said. “Boy, don't play with me.”
“Audrey,” I heard Daddy say, “what's this all about?”
“Ask your son,” Mama said. “Let him tell you.”
“Tell me what?” Daddy asked, and I could see that he was tired. I looked at him for a moment, then averted my eyes.
“Nothing,” I said.
“Nothing!” Mama said sarcastically.
She paused and waited for me to respond, but I remained quiet. I saw Daddy walk to his recliner and sit down. Only, he did not sit all of the way back on the chair. Instead, he sat on the edge and rested his elbows on the arms. He was tired. Dead tired. And I wished Mama would drop this and let Daddy eat and go lie down.
“Were you down at the Catfish Cabin?”
“Yes, ma'am,” I said.
There was a calendar of famous African-American leaders on the wall behind her. I did not look at her, rather I looked at the calendar, focusing on the faces while hoping that she would soon tire of this conversation and let me go.
“Did you have some trouble?” she asked me.
“It wasn't nothing,” I said, hoping to end this.
“Nothing!” she said.
“No, ma'am,” I said.
Then I was quiet again.
“Well, that's not the way it was told to me,” she said. “That's not the way it was told to me at all.”
She paused and looked at me, but I remained quiet.
“Somebody called Miss Hattie on one of them cell phones,” she said. “You have any idea what they told her?”
“No, ma'am,” I said. “I don't.”
“They told her that her child was out at the Catfish Cabin with some black folks and it looked like it was going to be trouble. Big trouble. You know anything about that, mister?”
“It wasn't nothing,” I said again.
“Was the police involved?”
“Yes, ma'am,” I said.
“Was a gun involved?”
“Yes, ma'am,” I said again.
“Well,” she said. “That sound like something to me.”
I looked at the calendar again and I heard the springs in the recliner squeak and I knew Daddy was shifting in the chair so that he could get a better look at me. Marcus Garvey's picture was on the calendar. He was wearing a purple hat with a big yellow plume, and a purple jacket with shiny gold buttons. There was a red, black, and green medal affixed to his jacket just above his heart. And there was a brown leather strap running diagonally across his chest. I was looking at his picture when I heard Daddy speaking to me.
“Son,” he said, “what's this all about?”
“It's not as bad as it sounds,” I said.
“You care to explain it?” Daddy asked.
“Ain't much to explain,” I said. “Me and Danielle were at the restaurant eating, and Omenita and her ex-boyfriend, Gerald, showed up.”
“Together!” Mama said, interrupting me.
“Yes, ma'am,” I said. “Together.”
“Sweet Jesus,” Mama said. “Sweet Jesus in Heaven. Well, I knew something like this was gon' happen,” she said. “I just knew it. That girl ain't no count. She ain't no count at all. She just like her mama. That child Sue all over.”
“Who is Gerald?” Daddy asked.
“His last name Carter,” I said. “Gerald Carter.”
“Carter,” Daddy said, still confused.
“Alvin Carter's oldest boy,” Mama said. “By his first marriage.”
“That boy they use to call Monday?”
“That's him,” Mama said.
I waited for Daddy to say more but when he didn't, I continued. “They sat down not too far from us, and I told Danielle that I was going to go over and see what was going on. And she told me not to. She said she thought it was a bad idea and that I was just going to create a scene.”
“But you didn't listen,” Mama said, “did you?”
“I listened,” I said.
I saw Daddy gazing at me.
“So you didn't talk to them?” He asked.
“Not then,” I said. “I waited outside and when she came out I tried to talk to her then.”
“Where was Gerald?” Daddy asked.
“He was with her,” I said.
“My Lord!” Mama said, then shook her head.
“And where was Danielle?” Daddy asked.
“She was still in the car.”
“And that's where you should have been,” Mama said. “Didn't your daddy tell you not to go running behind that gal? Didn't he?”
“I wasn't running behind her,” I said. “ I just wanted to talk to her.”
“Talk,” Mama said. “Talk about what?”
“Us,” I said.
“Good Lord!” Mama said again.
“It just bothered me,” I said.
“What bothered you, son?” Daddy asked.
“Seeing them together,” I said.
“That's why she did it,” Mama said. “Goodness gracious, Maurice, that's the oldest trick in the book. Don't you know that?”
“Audrey!” Daddy said.
“Well it is.”
“I just wanted to talk,” I said.
“But she didn't want to,” Daddy said.
“No, sir,” I said. “She tried to walk away.”
“And you should have let her,” Mama said.
“Mama, I love her,” I said.
“What about the gun?” Daddy asked.
“Gerald pulled it.”
“He pulled a gun on you?”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “When I wouldn't let Omenita go.”
“What did the police say?”
“He said Gerald and me need to stay away from each other.”
“And so do you and Omenita,” Mama said.
“I can't,” I said.
“You can,” Mama said. “And you will.”
“Daddy, I need to talk to her.”
“Son, I think that's a bad idea,” Daddy said, “but it's up to you.”
“Can I use the truck?”
“Where's Gerald?”
“I don't know,” I said.
“I don't want you getting into nothing, you hear?”
“I won't,” I said.
“I mean it, son,” he said. “Trouble easy to get into but it's hard to get out.”

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