The Secrets of Silk (16 page)

Silk was disappointed, but didn't show it. She'd seen Buddy's checkbook that had both his and Ernestine's name engraved on every check. She wanted Ernestine's name replaced with her own, but would wait until after they were married before she brought up the subject.

“Don't forget to call the hospital to check on Pamela and Paulette,” Buddy reminded. “Let the head nurse know that I'll stop by as soon as I get off work today.”

Standing on the front porch with an arm wrapped around Dallas and with the two boys standing uncomfortably at her side, Silk waved to Buddy. “Have a good day at work, darling,” she said, mimicking the behavior of a loving mate.

“Bye, Daddy,” Dallas said, but the sullen boys didn't open their mouths.

“Tell your father, goodbye,” Silk prompted Bruce and Myron through gritted teeth.

Solemn-faced, the boys held up their hands limply. When Buddy's car roared away, Silk glared at his sons. “I can see that I'm gonna have to teach you two boys a lesson about plucking my nerves. Get in the house…both of you,” she said, giving Myron a shove and smacking the back of Bruce's head.

“Ow!” Bruce hollered and flinched as if he'd been bopped upside the head with a brick. His overreaction aggravated Silk.

“Hush up before I give you something to holler about,” Silk threatened.

“You're not my mother, and you're not allowed to hit me.” Bruce scrunched up his lips and stared daggers at Silk.

His insolence infuriated her, and she was of a mind to gather switches from the backyard and whip his behind. But she had second thoughts about that. Buddy might not take too kindly to her beating the living daylights out of his kids before they were married, and so she decided to punish Bruce in a different way.

Silk and the three kids filed into the house, and the children went straight to the living room and turned on the TV set and changed the channel to cartoons.

“No television for you, Bruce. You're punished for sassing me, so march your butt upstairs and sit in your room.”

“Sit in my room and do what?” Bruce demanded.

“I don't care what you do, but you'd better get out of my face. Now, get up those stairs!”

The loud volume of Silk's voice caused Dallas to jump in fear. Myron stared at Silk, wearing a shocked expression while Bruce dragged himself up the stairs with his head hung low.

“Don't look at me like that, Myron.”

“Like what?”

“Don't play dumb. Keep on sassing me with your eyes and you gonna find yourself on punishment right along with your brother.”

Silk exited the living room and ventured into the kitchen to figure out what to fix for breakfast. Countless Tupperware containers and foil-covered plates were stacked in the refrigerator. There was enough ready-made food to feed the family lunch and dinner for weeks. But there wasn't anything suitable for breakfast. Nor were there any snacks that would satisfy Silk's sweet tooth.

With the spending money Buddy had given her, she supposed she could spare a few dollars for milk and cereal for the kids and a few dollars more for her personal stash of treats.

“Where's the closest store?” Silk asked Myron.

“Max's store is right over there on Twelfth Street.” Myron pointed toward the window, while his eyes were glued to the TV screen.

“Glass's store is a little further down Twelfth Street,” Dallas added. “Mommy likes to buy from Mr. Glass because he's colored.”

Since
Mommy
preferred the colored store, Silk decided to patronize Max's. “You kids stay in the house and don't budge until I get back,” Silk instructed.

Silk was excited about exploring Twelfth Street, the raunchy part of the neighborhood that Clara had warned her about. Besides the people she'd met in The Melody Lounge the other night, Silk had only become acquainted with stuffy, church folks in Chester, and she was itching to meet some folks who knew how to kick up their heels and have a good time.

She peered out the front door, trying to get a look at Max's store, but the elementary school that sat on the corner blocked her view. “I don't see any store, Myron; all I see is a school and those government homes,” Silk said irritably.

“The store is on the other side of the school. Do you want me to show you where it is?”

“No, I'll find it. Keep an eye on your sister until I get back.” Clutching her purse, Silk left the house, eager for an adventure.

M
ax's grocery store was located on a property lot that included Freddie's Barbershop, the Flower Hill bar, six apartments, and the Office of the Magistrate was situated on the far-right corner of the lot.

The patrons of the barbershop craned their necks to get a look at Silk as she promenaded past the plate-glass window of the shop, swaying her hips and tossing the men a confident smile.

The grocery store was small, dimly lit, and junky. Max, a Jewish man who looked to be in his mid to late thirties, was behind counter. A woman with pink sponge rollers in her hair stood at the counter waiting for Max to tally up her purchases. Instead of giving him money, she handed him a miniature, black-and-white composition book in which Max jotted down some numbers and returned the book with a smile.

“Hello, there. You must be new around here. I'd remember a pretty face like yours,” Max, the store owner, greeted. From the shabby appearance of the store, Max wasn't worth getting to know better, and Silk refrained from conversing with him or even bestowing him with a smile.

Browsing, she moseyed to the back of the store where a colored boy in his late teens or maybe early twenties was stocking shelves with canned good. Silk found it odd that the stock boy wore sunglasses
inside the dimly lit store. The right side of his head was scarred and dented, and when he held up his hand and said, “Hi,” in a childlike voice, she realized he was slow or possibly brain damaged.

“My name is Sonny Boy. I work here,” he said sluggishly.

“Good for you,” Silk replied with a sneer. She had no patience for mentally retarded people.

“Can I help you with anything?” Max asked, coming from behind the counter.

“Where's your milk and cereal?”

“Cereal's over there.” He pointed to the far wall. “I'll get the milk for you. Do you want a quart or half-gallon?” Max inquired as he went behind the meat counter to get to the refrigerated products.

“Make it a half-gallon.” Silk picked up a box of Cheerios, a five-pound bag of sugar, and a box of Oreo cookies, and a package of Fig Newtons. “I'd like a Coke while you're back there…no, make it two Coca-Colas, and a quart of orange juice,” she called to Max.

“Two Coca-Colas and a quart of orange juice,” Sonny Boy repeated, irking Silk with the sound of his thick voice.

Max brought the milk, sodas, and orange juice to the counter and Silk added an assortment of candy bars, a pack of Tastykake Krimpets, a box of Cracker Jacks, and a family-size bag of barbecue potato chips to her order.

“You've got a large order here. If you need help with your bags, Sonny Boy won't mind carrying them for you,” Max offered.

“I don't mind carrying them for you,” Sonny Boy parroted.

Silk surveyed Sonny Boy. The way he talked was pissing her off, and his dented-in head was hard on the eyes. “What's wrong with him?” she asked Max with a scowl.

“Something happened to him down South when he was only a boy. He's not right in the here.” Max tapped on his temple. “But he's harmless,” he quickly added. “Sonny Boy's as innocent as a child.”

“Why's he wearing them sunglasses? Is something wrong with his eyes, too?”

Max nodded. “He's blind in one eye, and uh, partially blind in the other. But he gets around just fine.”

“Was he born like that?”

“No,” Max said grimly. “His eye sight was damaged also during that very unfortunate incident that happened while Sonny Boy was living in the South. I'd rather not discuss it. It's a good thing for Sonny Boy that his parents sent him to live with his aunt here in Chester. At least in the North he won't have to suffer any more racial injustice.”

Silk shrugged indifferently. She didn't give a damn about Sonny Boy's problems. “Okay, well, sure he can carry my bags. So, what's the damage?” Silk asked lightheartedly, nodding toward her groceries.

Max rang up her items. “Your total is three dollars and eighty-nine cents. The orange juice is on the house. You're a first-time customer and I hope you'll return. I can extend credit if you need it.”

“No, thanks, I don't need credit.” She extracted a five from her purse.

After Max gave Silk her change, he called out to Sonny Boy. “Stop what you're doing, Sonny Boy. I want you to carry the lady's bags home.” Max turned to Silk. “Where'd you say you live?”

“Oh, I'm only a hop, skip, and a jump away. The white house on the corner of Twelfth and Flower,” she said.

“Oh, that's where the Dixons live. Shame about Ernestine; she was a nice lady. Are you a family member?”

“I guess you could say that. In a few days, I'll be Buddy's new wife.”

Max looked surprised. “I thought Buddy would be in mourning for a while. I can't believe he's getting married, so soon. Well, congratulations, uh, I didn't catch your name.”

“It's Silk.”

“Sonny Boy, this is Silk. She lives in the white house across the street from the school. I want you to carry her bags home and then come straight back, you hear?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Max,” Sonny Boy replied.

With Sonny Boy toting two large shopping bags, Silk led the way home, and then she suddenly stopped walking. “Take those sunglasses off and let me see your eyes, Sonny Boy.”

He shook his head. “My Aunt Verline told me to always keep these glasses on when I'm out in public.”

“What your Aunt Verline doesn't know won't hurt her. I bet you have nice eyes, Sonny Boy. Come on, let me see 'em,” Silk cajoled. She was morbidly curious about the damage that the violent crackers down South had done to Sonny Boy.

“One eye can't see nothing, and the other one sees things fuzzy.”

“Stop blabbing about it and let me see for myself what kind of shape your eyes are in. If you wanna carry my bags home, you gotta let me see what's underneath them glasses. Now, take 'em off and show me.”

Sonny Boy carefully placed the bags on the ground. Slowly and hesitantly, he removed his sunglasses. Silk inhaled sharply. She hadn't expected his eyes to be as damaged as they were. The right eye was a hazel-colored, stray eye that didn't appear to be able to focus on anything for very long. The left eye was gone, and Sonny Boy was left with an empty eye socket.

Silk was reminded of how she'd gouged out the eyes of Mr.
Perry with a pair of ice tongs. During her fit of rage, the gory result of her actions hadn't turned her stomach at all, but looking into an empty eye socket, unexpectedly, had her on the verge of vomiting. Averting her gaze, she asked, “What happened?”

“They pulled it out.” The memory caused Sonny Boy to tremble.

“Who pulled it out?”

“Mean white men yanked my eye out. They said they'd fix it so I couldn't look at any more white women.”

“What else did they do to you?”

“They beat me and kicked me. Hit me over the head with a baseball bat. And they broke both my legs.” The horrifying recollection caused Sonny Boy to throw a fit. He began whining unpleasantly, turning in fast circles, and smacking the dented side of his head. “I ain't looked at no white woman. I kept my eyes down. I ain't looked at no white woman. I kept my eyes down,” he continuously repeated.

“Simmer down and stop acting the fool, Sonny Boy! Put your sunglasses back on, pick them bags up, and let's go,” Silk said sternly.

Responding to Silk's sharp tone, Sonny Boy pulled himself together. “Are you gonna tell my Aunt Verline that I showed you my eyes?” he asked meekly.

“No, that's gonna stay between you and me. It'll be our little secret.” She gave Sonny Boy a sneaky smile. “You wanna keep secrets with me?”

He nodded briskly. “Okay.”

She leaned in and planted a kiss on Sonny Boy's lips. “Now, our little secret is sealed with a kiss.”

Sonny Boy grinned and seemed to be hyperventilating. “Are…are…are you my girlfriend, Silk?”

“Uh-huh. But that's a secret. You gotta keep our romance between
you and me,” she said teasingly. “I'm gonna be getting married soon, and we don't want my new husband to find out, do we?”

“No.” Sonny Boy shook his head.

When they reached her house, Silk gave Sonny a dollar tip for carrying her bags.

Sonny Boy looked at the dollar and frowned. “This is too much. I only charge a quarter to carry bags. Mr. Max is gonna get mad if he thinks I stole your money.”

Silk dug around in her purse and retrieved a quarter. “Here you go. Show this to Max and hide that dollar in your other pocket. That's another secret between us.”