It's All About The Moon When The Sun Ain't Shining (7 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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“Just point 'em out when they come 'round,” she said. “Maurice'll get 'em off for you.”
I moved close to the belt, and Danielle looked at me and smiled. We watched a few more pieces pass, then I saw a large gray trunk dart through.
“That's it,” she said.
When it was within reach, I grabbed the handle and lifted it off the belt. It was heavier than I expected and before I realized it, I grunted and let it fall hard to the floor.
“Oh,” she said. “Are you alright?”
I felt her hand on the back of mine. I nodded, then looked away, embarrassed.
“I'm sorry,” she said. “I should have warned you. It's quite heavy.”
I saw Mama looking at the trunk, concerned. And I knew she was wondering if I had broken something when I dropped it. She looked at me with cold, stern eyes to let me know that she expected me to be more careful. A few bags passed before Danielle identified the other one belonging to her. And when she did, I retrieved it and placed it on a cart along with the trunk. We then made our way out to the car, and I popped the trunk to load the luggage. Suddenly, I heard Danielle shivering. I looked up. Her body was stiff against the cold and her arms were folded across her chest. I saw Mama looking at me, agitated.
“Oh, I'm sorry,” I said. “Let me get the door for you.”
I started around the car but Mama stopped me.
“We'll sit in the back,” Mama said. “That way, we can visit.”
I quickly opened the back door and Danielle slid in first, then Mama slid in next to her. And when they were out of the cold, I loaded the luggage into the trunk and climbed behind the wheel. And as I buckled my seat belt I saw Danielle's reflection in the rearview mirror. Our eyes met, and she smiled.
“Thanks for picking me up,” she said. “I knew Father wasn't going to make it, but I didn't know I was going to have my own personal chauffeur.”
I smiled, but did not speak. Inside, I felt my blood run hot. No, I wanted to say. I ain't your damn chauffeur. But because I couldn't, I chose to say nothing. I paused for a few minutes to collect myself, then I started the car and pulled out into the street. As I drove, I looked toward the highway. The hour had grown late and the traffic leading from the airport had stiffened but was still relatively light. I looked at my watch. It was six-thirty and I could not help but wonder if Daddy was getting along alright at the diner and if I might not make it back in time to help him with the breakfast dishes.
I turned onto the highway. Behind me I heard Mama and Danielle talking, about what I could not say. I was not listening to them. I was watching the road. I was thinking about Daddy. I was thinking about Omenita. On the way back, I did not cut through the campus; instead, I bypassed it and connected with the main highway leading back to Brownsville. We were well on our way, and I had settled in comfortably behind the wheel when I heard Danielle's soft, jovial voice call to me from the back of the car.
“So Maurice,” she said, “tell me about yourself.”
I looked at her reflection in the rearview mirror. She had slid toward the center of the seat and was leaning forward, looking directly at me.
“Nothing to tell,” I said.
“Maurice!” I heard Mama call my name. I did not look back, but I could tell from her tone that she was not happy with the manner in which I had answered. I am sure that she thought my response had sounded smart, too smart.
“Just going to school,” I said.
“May I ask where?” Danielle asked me.
“LSU,” I said.
“Really?”
“Really,” I said.
“He graduates in May,” I heard Mama say. And when she said it, I could hear the pride in her voice. Traffic slowed and I pulled into the fast lane and passed the car in front of me, then changed lanes again. I looked in the mirror. Danielle's soft blue eyes were looking at me.
“Married?”
“Not yet,” I said, “but working on it.”
“Well, I tell you,” she said, “you'll be a fine catch for some lucky woman. As a matter of fact, I have a couple of black girlfriends back East who would love to meet you ... you interested?”
“He ain't got no time for such talk, missy,” I heard Mama say. “He still got things to do yet.”
Danielle chuckled. Mama became quiet and I stared at the road.
“Tell her 'bout your plans,” Mama said.
I sighed softly to myself but did not speak.
“Go on, son,” she said again. “Tell her.”
“Might be too personal, Mother Audrey,” Danielle said.
“Aw, ain't nothing like that.”
“I was accepted to law school,” I said.
“Law school.”
“Yes,” I said again. “Law school.”
“Congratulations,” she said. “That's fantastic.”
“Thank you,” I said. I looked at the road and wished I could will the miles passed. I looked in the mirror again. Danielle had turned toward Mama.
“Mother Audrey, I know you must be so proud until you don't know what to do,” Danielle said. “Have you told Mother?”
“Hadn't told nobody,” she said. “Except Nathaniel and Papa Luke.”
“When she finds out she'll just die.”
There was silence.
“What kind of law would you like to practice?”
“I don't know for sure,” I said. “Criminal, perhaps.”
“You want to be a trial lawyer?”
“Maybe,” I said.
“You should speak to Father.”
“I wouldn't want to bother him,” I said.
“It wouldn't be a bother. In fact, I'm sure he would enjoy it ... Tell him, Mother Audrey.”
“Might not be a bad idea,” Mama said. “Never hurt to talk to somebody who already been where you trying to go.”
“That settles it,” Danielle said. “We'll talk to Father. Boy, won't he be surprised?”
Chapter Eight
I
drove on, and as I did, my mind was blank, and my eyes were unfocused, and I was fully caught off guard when I regained awareness and saw that we were crossing the city limits into Brownsville. And instantly I realized that this was crazy, for I neither knew when Danielle had ceased talking nor when or how I had traversed the vast terrain stretching between Monroe and home.
And in the mirror, I could see Danielle, and she was leaning comfortably against the seat, and Mama was next to her, and Mama's head was tilted back, and her arms were folded across her pocketbook and her mouth was open and her eyes were closed. And as the road unwound before us, I was glad that it was quiet, for in the solitude of the moment there was for me a brief respite from the haggard turmoil that had depleted my spirit and left me feeling drained. And in the distance, I could see the light from the sun illuminating the town and I could see the rows of houses lining each side of the highway and I could see the deep curve approaching fast, signaling our impending entrance into downtown proper.
And now that we were close, I saw Danielle lean forward and begin to fidget with the contents in her purse. And I saw her remove a brush and begin brushing her hair and I saw her check her lipstick in a tiny mirror. And her movements awakened Mama, and I saw Mama's head slowly tilt forward and I saw her eyes open and I saw her look about unknowingly, trying to get her bearings. And I refocused my attention on the highway. For now that we were back, I had planned to drop Mama off first, then take Danielle home, then walk back to work. And I shared my plan with Danielle and to my surprise, she vehemently voiced her opposition saying that it was nonsensical for me to lose more time from work driving them home when she was perfectly capable of taking care of that herself. And I did not argue with her for my mind was neither on her nor work. But it was squarely on Omenita and the dreaded conversation that stood ominously before us like some unknown phantom lurking silently in the deep, dark stillness of the night.
In Brownsville, Danielle motioned me over, and I pulled off the road into the parking lot behind the diner and stopped. And I unbuckled my seat belt and reached for the door and just as I was about to open it, I heard Danielle call to me from the backseat. And she called to me not in the tone of a stranger, but in the way that old friends use when calling each other. And it surprised me, and I hesitated, then looked back at her.
“Thank you,” she said. There was in her eyes a soft, gentle glow and there was upon her face a warm, pleasant smile.
“You're welcome,” I said.
I cracked the door open and she spoke again.
“Hope this wasn't too much of an inconvenience.”
I looked at her and smiled.
“It wasn't,” I said.
Through the rearview mirror I saw her bend low and retrieve her purse from the floor, then snap it open.
“I'd like to pay you for your trouble,” she said.
But before I could answer her I heard Mama chime in from the backseat. “I won't hear of such a thing,” she said. “I won't hear of it at all.”
I saw Danielle release her grip on the purse and lean against the seat. And I saw her look at Mama with soft, pleading eyes.
“But, Mother Audrey,” she said, “I would like to do something to show my appreciation. After all, Maurice did go out of his way ... and besides, he's been so nice. Please,” she said. “Let me do something.”
“No need for that,” I said, sliding out of the car. “It wasn't any trouble ... It wasn't any trouble at all.”
“Let me take you to lunch,” she said.
I bent low and looked at her.
“That's not necessary,” I said.
“But I want to,” she pleaded.
“Really,” I said. “It's alright. You don't owe me a thing.”
“It doesn't have to be today,” she said. “It could be anytime. Please. Let me do this for you.”
I looked at Mama. She nodded and I quickly looked away. I felt the cold wind whip through my pants. And I was tired of the conversation and wanted desperately to get out of the weather.
“Okay,” I said. “Lunch it is.”
Danielle smiled and leaned back, satisfied.
“Fantastic,” she said. And when she said it, I figured that must have been a favorite expression of hers for that was the second time she had used it. “I'm glad that's settled,” she said, continuing to smile. “Thank you so much.”
“You're welcome,” I said.
I opened the door for her and she got out, then climbed behind the wheel. And after she was inside, I closed the door behind her and stepped away. But she did not leave immediately; instead, she rolled down the window and poked her head through.
“Let me know what day is good for you,” she said.
“I will,” I said.
“Now, don't forget.”
“I won't,” I said.
She smiled and waved good-bye, and I waved back. And as she pulled out of the parking lot onto the highway, I made my way to the rear entrance of the diner and pulled the door open. Daddy and two other men, Jake and Mr. Reuben, were standing before their stations working. Each of them wore a rubber apron around his waist and a pair of rubber gloves on his hands. Daddy's back was to me and he did not see me come in. I approached him quietly.
“Hi, Daddy.” I said.
He turned and looked.
“Hi, son.” His hands were in the soapy water. He continued to work as he talked. “Glad you made it back,” he said. “Had a big rush this morning. Don't understand it. Must be the holiday crowd.”
“Whatever it is,” Jake said. “Dishes piling up.”
I looked over my shoulder. Jake was standing before a large stainless-steel sink just like the one my father stood before. There was a huge stack of plates piled high on the counter next to him. His hands were submerged in the water. His face was covered with perspiration. I looked at him for a minute, then back at Daddy.
“So, what you want me to do, Daddy?” I asked.
“Apron on the wall there.” He nodded toward the far wall. I saw a long rubber apron hanging on a nail. “Gloves under the cabinet. Grab that cart next to the door. And see what you can do with them.”
I looked at the cart then back at Daddy.
“Where you want me to work?”
Daddy nodded toward Jake.
“That's Silas's station over yonder,” he said. “You can work there.”
I grabbed the cart and moved it to the sink next to Jake. And after I had donned my apron and gloves, I began working. It was cold outside but it was burning up inside. Our work area was next to the kitchen, and I could feel the heat from the grill. And I could see Tommy, the short-order cook, through the window in the door that separated the kitchen from our area. He was frying bacon on one side of the grill and scrambling eggs on the other. I had just sunk my hands into the tepid water when Jake spoke to me.
“How's school?” he asked. He smiled and his gold tooth showed.
I opened my mouth to answer, but before I could, the door swung open and a young waiter poked his head through.
“Need more plates out here!” he yelled.
Daddy turned toward us. “Come on, men,” he shouted. “Let's get the lead out.”
“Clean plates in the corner,” Reuben yelled from his station. I glanced at him. He was washing a stack of glasses and a pile of silverware. And like the others, his face was covered with sweat. I saw the waiter grab the cart and hustle through the door. And no sooner had he left than a busboy hurried through with another tray of dirty dishes.
“Where you want 'em, boss?” he asked Daddy.
Daddy nodded toward an empty cart. The boy set the dishes down and turned to leave, but before he could make it out of the kitchen, Jake called to him. “How's the crowd?”
“Still heavy,” the boy said.
“What in the hell's going on today?” Jake asked. He looked at me, then at the busboy. “Where all these goddamn people come from?”
“Some kind of training session at the plant,” the boy said. “Bunch of big shots from the corporate office. Must not of ate 'fo they come down here,” the boy said. “They ordering flapjacks like it ain't no tomorrow.”
“Let's go, men,” Daddy said. “Let's hussle. They gon' need more plates.”
Suddenly the door swung open. The busboy had returned.
“Need mo' glasses.”
“Goddammit, boy,” Jake yelled again. “Hold your horses. They coming.”
“Leave 'im alone, Jake,” Daddy said. “He just doing his job.”
“Well damn, boss man,” Jake said. “We moving fast as we can.”
I saw Reuben push a cart of glasses to the center of the floor. The busboy grabbed them and disappeared through the door. The door swung in, then out. I lowered my hands back into the soapy water; so did Jake.
“You say school alright, hunh?” he asked me.
“Yes, sir,” I said.
I quickly removed a plate and held it under the steady stream of water falling from the faucet then placed it on the tray next to me.
“No complaints?” he asked.
“No complaints,” I said.
I lowered my hands back into the water and grabbed another plate. As I worked, Jake continued to talk.
“Well that's good, I reckon. 'Cause, from my experience, complaining don't do no good no way. What will be will be. Ain't that right, boss man.”
“You telling him right,” Daddy said.
I finished the plate and placed it on the tray next to me. I saw Daddy stack a pile of dishes on a cart and roll them out toward the center of the room.
“He telling him a lie,” Reuben called from across the room.
I heard Daddy chuckle. I saw Jake look over his shoulder.
“Nigger, who you calling a lie?”
“You, nigger,” Reuben said. “You know well as I do that you don't do nothing but complain.”
“Never said I didn't. Just said it don't do no good.”
“Well, if you know that, why the hell you complain so much? And how the hell you gon' tell him not to?”
“ 'Cause my situation's different,” Jake said. “I got a wife... . He don't.”
I heard Daddy laugh again. I saw Jake looking at me.
“You ain't got no wife, do you?” Jake asked me.
“No, sir,” I said. “I don't.”
“Well, that's what I thought” Jake said, then added. “And if you know like me, you'll keep it that way. 'Cause far as I'm concerned the ruination of man is matrimony.”
“Don't listen to 'im, son,” Reuben said. “He don't know what the hell he talking about. He just a confused old man.”
“I know what I'm talking about,” Jake said. “And God knows I know.”
“Jake,” I heard Reuben call to him. “You ain't one of them homosexuals, is you?”
“Is you?” Jake asked Reuben.
Daddy chuckled and so did I.
“Y'all can laugh all you want to,” Jake said, looking at no one in particular, “but that's why I don't respect God.”
“Watch yourself,” Reuben said. “Watch yourself now.”
“I mean it,” Jake said. “Why didn't God give Jesus a woman? Think about it. Jesus his own flesh and blood. And God could have given him anything he wanted. Anything in the whole wide world. Why didn't he give him a woman? Tell me ... Why?”
“Nigger, you crazy.” Reuben said.
I heard Daddy laugh, but he didn't say anything.
“I'll tell you why,” Jake said. “ 'Cause God knowed Jesus couldn't handle it, that's why. Just think about it. Jesus been out all day healing the sick and raising the dead and casting out demons. And when he come home he dead tired and all he want to do is sit down and take his shoes off. You know, prop his feet up. But when he get there, his old lady standing in the do' with her eyes all bucked and her mouth poked out. Now Jesus see her, and he know she ready to act a fool, but like something crazy he speak anyway.
“ ‘How you doing baby?' he say. But his old lady don't say nothing. Just keep on staring at him. You know how they do.” Jake said. “So Jesus come on in the house but before he can get in good, she put her hand on her hip and holler like something crazy.”
“ ‘Where you been?' ”
“Jesus just look at her and smile.”
“ ‘Working.' ”
“ ‘Working!' she say.”

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