The Secrets of Silk (5 page)

Mr. Perry backed her across the room, threatening her with each step. “You'd better be nice to me, nigga bitch, or I'll beat the living daylights out of you.” Soon, he had her stretched out on the iron bed. His physical frame, comprised of mostly bulky muscle, was much heavier than Big Mama's loose, fleshy body. Feeling as if she were being crushed, Silk could barely breathe. She didn't possess the strength or the courage to try and fight him off.

She wasn't a virgin and it didn't physically hurt when he pushed himself inside her. But each thrust was an intrusion, a violation of her personhood. She hadn't felt this helpless since she was a six-year-old being taunted and bullied by Ozella Scott. Only this felt a hundred times worse.

After ten excruciating minutes elapsed, he gave a harsh groan and a violent shudder before rolling off her. Lying on his back, he stared at the moldy, exposed-beam ceiling, smiling in satisfaction. Finally, he stood, pulling up his pants and straightening out his shirt.

Afraid that even the most subtle movement might entice Mr. Perry into wanting to start up again, Silk lay still and dared not move a muscle.

“Tell Mattie the ice is free of charge this week,” Mr. Perry said, giving Silk a head nod and a wink.

Silk didn't move until she heard the screen door slam behind Mr. Perry. The rage that overcame her seemed to vibrate through her system. She shot up from the bed and pulled up her pedal pushers, which were loose around her waist due to the ripped zipper and missing button. In a blind fury, she felt beneath the mattress and retrieved her switchblade. Knife in hand, she moved purposefully across the room, and when she reached the cabin door, she noticed that Mr. Perry had left his tongs behind.

“Mr. Perry! Mr. Perry!” Silk yelled, running through the forest in the direction that led to the road where Mr. Perry always parked his truck. She spotted him in the distance, moving swiftly through the thicket of trees and bramble bushes. “Mr. Perry!”

Hearing his name, Mr. Perry stopped walking and turned around. Silk waved her hand through the air. Realizing that Silk wanted to tell him something, he sighed as he waited for her to catch up.

“You forgot your ice tongs,” she said, breathless, when she caught up to him.

“Girl, what's wrong with you…are you simple-minded or something? I have extra pairs of tongs. Why you come running out here in the woods, slowing me down when I'm already behind schedule from fooling with you?”

“I'm sorry. I thought you needed these,” she said, extending her arm, offering him the tongs. But before he could accept them, she swung the heavy, metal object upward, knocking him upside the head. Mr. Perry let out a sound of pain and stumbled backward. Silk whacked him again. Only harder. And this time, a big knot appeared on the side of his head, and his knees buckled. He tried to get away from her, but disoriented, he stumbled around with no idea of which way to turn.

Silk had him at her mercy, and with a deadly look in her eyes, she approached him, waving the ice tongs menacingly. “I don't think you're in any shape to drive that ice truck, Mr. Perry,” she said with an amused smile.

“You…you're crazy; get away from me.” His voice shook and so did the hand that he held up defensively, but to no avail. Silk had him at her mercy. With a malicious glint in her eyes, she swung at his head with the ice tongs until blood seeped and his legs gave out.

The burly man hit the ground hard, like a fallen tree. As he lay on his side, balled up and with his hands pressed against his battered head, Silk struck again. Knocked unconscious, his arms fell to his sides. He was lying on his back now, exposed and vulnerable. Silk dropped the switchblade that she'd been hiding behind her back. Using both hands, she opened the tongs, aiming the pointy ends at Mr. Perry's closed eyes. She widened the handles and then tightened them together, using the sharp, curved ends to gouge out his eyes.

Howling like a trapped animal, Mr. Perry's screams echoed through the forest. With bloody eyeballs hanging on both cheeks, he scrambled around, trying to sit up. Silk dropped down, picked up her knife from the ground, and straddled him. Using her switchblade, she slashed him up, causing the flesh of his face and arms to hang like ribbons. Barely alive from blood loss, he softly whimpered,
emitting a whoosh of air when she plunged the knife into his privates.

Back at the cabin, when Silk told Big Mama what Mr. Perry had done to her and how she'd left his bloodied body for the buzzards to eat, Big Mama insisted on going out to the woods and dragging the dead body back to her property. Burying him in the ground would fertilize her garden and also keep the iceman's remains undetected by Sherriff Thompson and his lawmen.

S
ilk boarded the bus for Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania not knowing much about the place she was heading. She wondered if Pittsburgh was a fast-paced town like New York City with plenty of nightclubs and twinkling neon lights.

After traveling a few hours, the bus stopped in Biloxi, Mississippi. Silk hadn't banked on stopping until they arrived at her destination in Pittsburgh. Biloxi was too close to Louisiana for comfort, and Silk looked left and right, holding her breath in fear that Sheriff Thompson and his lawmen would bum-rush the bus and arrest her.

She didn't relax until every passenger had boarded and the bus pulled away. A woman with smooth, root-beer-colored skin boarded the bus, carrying a baby. Her suitcase was stored in the luggage compartment, but she was still laden down with several cloth sacks as well as paper sacks with handles. She moved awkwardly down the aisle, passing empty seats that were reserved for white folks. When she reached the back of the bus, she and her fussy baby sat next to Silk.

“Boy or girl?” Silk asked.

“A little boy. His name is Vernon…after his daddy.”

“He's a plump little muffin,” Silk commented. “By the way, are you headed to Pittsburgh?” She hoped the new passenger could
give her the lowdown on the city she was considering settling down in.

“Yes, I am.”

“Me, too. You got family up north?”

“My brother. And my nieces and nephews.” A troubled look appeared in the woman's eyes. “My sister-in-law…her name was Ernestine. She was killed in an accident, and I'm going up north for her funeral.”

“Oh, I'm sorry for your loss.”

“She was only in her twenties, and she left behind five motherless children, including newborn twins.”

“Twins! Now, that's a sin and a shame for those poor babies to lose their mama before they even got to know her.”

“It's so sad,” she agreed, shaking her head. “My brother, Buddy…Well, his name is Richard, but we call him Buddy. He went up north eleven years ago and met Ernestine at church. They married right away. I never had the pleasure of meeting my sister-in-law, but that doesn't stop me from mourning her loss. She was killed when a truck ran into the taxi cab she was riding in. The doctors had to cut those twins out of her. It's a miracle they survived.”

“What a pity. Are you gonna stay up north and help raise them?”

“No, I can't stay. I have a husband and two more little ones at home to look after. I'm going to stay until my brother finds a babysitter to take care of the children.”

“Woo-wee. That babysitter is going to have a lot on her hands with three children and a set of infant twins.”

“That's another sad part of the story. The twins were born prematurely and they're still in the hospital—in incubators. They may not make it.”

“I'm gonna keep those little Pittsburgh twins in my prayers,”
Silk said, practicing the name of the city she would soon call home. However, if Pittsburgh didn't have the fast life she was looking for, she'd get out of there in a hurry and go to New York or Chicago.

“Oh, my brother and his family don't live in Pittsburgh; they're in a city outside of Philadelphia—a small town called Chester. I have to transfer to another bus headed for Philadelphia when we arrive in Pittsburgh.”

Silk hadn't considered Philadelphia as one of her options, but it was a big city and most likely offered the bright lights and nightlife she yearned for. Perhaps Silk would also transfer to that bus going to Philadelphia.

“By the way, my name is Clara; what's yours?”

Not having a fake name handy, and highly doubting if Sheriff Thompson would ever travel to Philadelphia to hunt her down, Silk went on ahead and divulged her real name. “My name is Silk.”

“That's an unusual name. It's pretty, too. Nice to meet you, Silk,” Clara said, smiling as she rocked her baby.

“Losing a wife suddenly must be rough on your brother.”

“It is. And having so much to deal with while he's grieving makes it extra hard. He has to make funeral arrangements and he also has to deal with all sorts of paperwork for the insurance claim. You see, Buddy stands to get double the money of Ernestine's insurance policy due to her accidental death.” Clara readjusted the baby's blanket and then peered at Silk. “So, where are you traveling to?”

Double insurance money! Hot damn!
Silk would be a fool not to get tight with the grieving widower and get a piece of that windfall. She took a deep breath and smiled. “It's such a coincidence that we're traveling in the exact same direction. I have a teaching job lined up in the same, small town—Chester, Pennsylvania.”

“Are you kidding me?” Clara said, surprised.

“I'll be teaching at a private, Christian school for colored kids.”

“My goodness! This is too good to be true.”

Silk nodded enthusiastically and smiled back at Clara. “I've never been there before and I don't know a soul. I hope I can count on you to be a friend.”

“You certainly can. The long trip won't be so lonely now that I have someone to talk to. I've never been up north before and it'll be comforting to have a new friend along. The two of us country girls might have to lean on each other amongst all those city-slickers.” Clara laughed gaily and then covered her mouth. “Oh, Lord. I feel terribly guilty. My sister-in-law is not even in the ground yet, and I'm sitting here laughing like a fool.”

Silk patted Clara's arm. “You didn't mean any harm by it. My mama always told me to rejoice for the dearly departed for their suffering on earth is finally over.”

Clara nodded solemnly.

“I'm sure those grief-stricken, little motherless children could use a little bit of sunshine in their lives, right about now. Wearing a long face isn't gonna help anyone. It's not gonna be easy, but if you can pretend to be cheerful, the better off those children will be.”

“I think you're right.” Clara looked Silk over. “I suppose being a Christian school teacher has taught you a lot about children and a lot about faith.”

“It surely has.”

“I would have never guessed you were a schoolteacher. To be honest, when I sat next to you, I thought you were an actress, on your way to the Big Apple or Hollywood to become a movie star.”

“Me—a movie star? Imagine that!” Silk laughed and Clara joined in.

After several more hours into the bus ride, Silk finally relaxed and stopped expecting Sheriff Thompson and his lawmen to flag down the bus and order her to get off at gunpoint. The ride to Pittsburgh was unending, but Silk used the time to find out everything she could about Clara's brother. Clara loved to talk and eagerly shared the information. According to Clara, Buddy was a devoted, hardworking, family man who was soft-spoken and easygoing. He migrated to Chester back in '51 when his uncle got him a job at a shipbuilding company. As a master welder and the supervisor of his department at the factory, Buddy had earned a good living and received excellent company benefits.

It turned out that the paper sack that Clara had lugged onto the bus contained an assortment of food for the journey: Vienna sausages, Saltine crackers, canned sardines, thick slices of corn bread, and fried chicken wrapped in aluminum foil. She generously shared her food with Silk, who repaid the kindness by buying Clara soft drinks from beverage machines at the various rest stops along the way.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Clara inquired.

Silk started to tell Clara that she was footloose and fancy free, but thought better of it. “Yes, my sweetheart's name is Duke. He's in medical school…you know, training to be a doctor. We're going to get married when Duke starts his practice, and at that point, I'll give up my teaching career to raise our children and be a good wife.”

“You have your life all planned out, don't you?”

“Uh-huh. My mama gave me a big ol' hope chest and it's already filled to the brim with all sorts of household items that Duke and I will use in our future home.”

“Are you planning a big wedding?”

“Yes, indeed. Five bridesmaids and two flower girls.”

“That's wonderful; you're a lucky girl. I wish I'd had me a big wedding, but I was already in the family way when I got married,” Clara said in a lowered tone of voice.