The Waking (17 page)

“
Rufus, that’s gross,” Penny says as she picks at her shrimp. She looks over at me. “How’s your arm, Emmanuel?”

“
Okay. It feels a little tight.”

“
It’ll be like that for a few days,” Penny says. “I have some aspirin for you if you want it.”

“
I’ll be all right.” Because I’ve had much worse.

Rose leans forward. “I’ll take you off dish duty for a while till it heals.”

“
Thanks.”

“
I have some lotion you can use,” Penny says, “so it doesn’t itch so much.”

“
Save room for some sweet potato pie, Emmanuel,” Rose says. “Made it for you special before we left.”

I see Rufus’s head going back and forth from Penny to Rose, like he’s watching some of the passengers playing ping pong. What’s going on?

“
We have
got
to get you some clothes that fit, Emmanuel,” Penny says. “No offense, Rufus.”

“
I’ll take care of that,” Rose says. “We got some clothes in the lost and found on the boat that might fit you, most of it from the last century, though. They’re being washed as we speak.”

Now I get it. I have two women, one white and eighteen, the other black and pushing sixty, laying claim to me. I want to laugh at how ridiculous it all is, but I’m afraid to.

Thankfully, Rufus laughs out loud for me, hopefully breaking some of the ice building up between Penny and Rose. “Dang, if I knew I’d get this much attention from gettin’ a little ol’ tattoo, I’d have got me one. Aspirin? Lotion? Clothes? Shoot, I could use ‘em all.” He smacks his lips. “Especially that sweet potato pie. Is there enough for me?”

“
Rufus,” Rose says, a tiny smile sneaking out, “there ain’t enough sweet potatoes in the state of Kentucky to make a pie big enough for you.”

“
I only want one slice,” he says.

“
I made it especially for Emmanuel,” Rose says. She shoots a look at Penny that says, “Top that.”

I expect Penny to back down, but she doesn’t. “I have the morning off tomorrow, so if you want to sleep in, Emmanuel, I’ll cover for you till you get there.”

They’re
still
at it. It makes me feel special, but this could get seriously ugly. “Thanks for the offer, Penny, but I need the hours.” I could only send checks for fifty each to Auntie June and Mary thanks to me taking no exemptions on that W-2. I hope it all comes back at tax time. “And I’m stuffed, so I couldn’t eat another thing tonight, Rose. Can the pie keep until morning?”

“
I suppose it could,” Rose says with a little pout, “but it tastes so much better fresh.”

“
I can have it for breakfast,” I say.

“
Suit yourself,” Rose says with a sigh.

While Rufus picks through his fries, Rose sits back with her arms folded and Penny looks away from the table, a thin pink line instead of a smile on her face. I have just made two women mad for declining their favors. This is too much drama to be having at the B&J Fish Bar in Covington, Kentucky.

After we divide and pay the bill, we argue about how to get back to the
American Queen
. Rose suggests getting another cab that she’ll pay for, Rufus suggests the bus since he had trouble fitting in the back seat of the cab, and Penny says she’d rather walk. The three of them turn to me to make the decision.

“
How far is it if we walk?” I ask, and Penny’s face brightens.

“
At least a mile, maybe a mile and a
half,
” Rose says with a scowl.

Time for a compromise. “Well, if we walk, I’m sure I’ll be able to walk off enough of my dinner to make room for some of that pie.”

“
Now you’re talkin’,” Rufus says. He slaps me on the back, and it hurts!

I’m going to have Rufus’s handprint on me for weeks.

“
Who needs the bus?” Rufus says.

“
All right,” Rose says, real cool like. “We’ll walk then.”

It’s a nice night for a walk, too, with only a few clouds scooting in front of the stars. It’s strange to have solid, unmoving ground under my feet after seven days on boats. I keep expecting that little sway I feel whenever I’m on the
American Queen
.

We make a funny quartet moving through Covington, let me tell you. Rufus, who can sing his guts out, starts some song that goes “Manny, po-panny” or something like that, and I can’t stop laughing. Penny fakes a Spanish accent and calls me “Man-
well
” and nicknames Rufus “The Roof, The Roof, The Roof-us is on Fire.” Rose simply hums while she walks and laughs at us every now and then, and she seems to have settled down.

But when we get to the bridge over the Licking River, things get serious again.

“
Licking is a funny name for a river, huh, Man-
well?
” Penny asks, looking over the edge. “But I don’t see a tongue anywhere.”

“
Neither do I,” I say. “You see a tongue anywhere, Rose?”

Rose’s face is practically made out of stone. “Why you gotta be nasty all the time, Penny?”

“
What did I say that was nasty?” Penny replies.

“
You know what you said, girl, and it’s shameful,” Rose says. “A girl your age shouldn’t be talkin’ like that.”

Penny takes two steps toward Rose. “And a woman your age shouldn’t be flirtin’ with a man half your age,
ma’am.
”

“
Catfight brewin’, Manny,” Rufus whispers. “Better do something.”

“
You’re bigger than me,” I whisper back. “
You
do something.”

“
I ain’t gettin’ between them,” Rufus says. “I might get bit.”

Rose stands her ground. “And you shouldn’t be in
heat
over a man who could be
your daddy.
”

Either way, I’m feeling pretty old right now.

“
Why you always gotta be someone’s mama,
ma’am?
” Penny says. “
You ain’t my mama.”

Oh no. She shouldn’t have gone there. I wonder if Penny knows about Rose’s past.

“
And I’m glad I ain’t a mama to you, you …
hoochie!
” Rose shouts.

“
Do something,” Rufus whispers.

“
What?” I whisper back.

“
I don’t know, something.”

Penny swaggers up to Rose, and there isn’t but a speck of light between them. “You just jealous cuz I got something to be a hoochie with,
old
lady.”

“
Whoa,” Rufus says.

Rose doesn’t bat an eye. “Least I know how to act my
race.
”

Ouch. Even Rufus winces.

“
I am what I am,
ma’am,
” Penny says, bucking her little shoulders.

“
And what’s that, huh? What they call you, a
wigger,
right?” Rose says.

“
I ain’t no wigger,” Penny spits back.

“
Not content to be an American princess, little Penny?” Rose says. “You think it’s cool to be black? Child, it ain’t nothin’ but a weight that’s been on my body since the day I was born. Why you want to put that weight on you?”

Penny’s lower lip quivers. “Cuz … cuz my grandma’s black, just like you.”

Everybody’s real quiet then.

I look more closely at Penny, and, yeah, she got some black in her, that little nose of hers spread out under those wide-spaced eyes.

I look at Rufus. “Did you know?”

“
Nuh-uh,” he says. “She don’t look like it at all. Her nose is kinda flat, though. Maybe she is.”

Rose’s body shakes a little. “You ain’t black, child.” But I can tell by the way she says it that she’s not sure.

“
I am.” Penny drops her eyes. “Grandma’s light-skinned, a little lighter than Emmanuel. I wasn’t supposed to ever know.”

Rose blinks. “When … when’d you find out?”

Penny’s eyes well with tears. “Just before I came here.” She wipes at her eyes. “It’s why I left in the first place.”

“
How did you find out, child?” Rose asks.

“
Grandma told me.”

“
Let me understand this,” Rose says, looking over at us then back to Penny. “You ran away from home because you found out you were part-black?”

“
No.” She turns her back on Rose.

“
Why then?” Rose asks.

Penny looks up at the stars. “Cuz no one
told
me, and cuz I was the
last
one to know.” She turns back. “My mama, who’s half-black but so light you’d never know it, my mama forbid me to date black boys. Can you believe that? She told me that white girls don’t mess with black boys. And all the while, she knew. She
knew.
”

“
I don’t think there’ll be a catfight now,” Rufus whispers.

“
Shh,” I say.

Rose’s face softens. “Why … why didn’t you tell me?”

Penny’s mouth opens and closes as more tears fell. “I guess I thought … I just … I just hoped you would notice without me having to tell you.”

“
Cuz of the cornrows?” Rose asks.

Penny drops her chin to her chest. “I don’t know, I just thought … I just thought black folks would recognize me as one of their own. I mean, I grew up white. I was a princess, just like you said.” She shoots a look at me. “My real name’s Jessica Anne.”

“
Jessica Anne?” Rose says, and she laughs softly.

“
Yeah. Pretty white, huh?” Penny shakes her head. “I just … I don’t know the first thing about what it means to be black, and I need to know. Why else you think I’d invite myself along tonight with y’all?”

Rose smiles and puts her hands on Penny’s face. “You’re startin’ to
sound
Southern and black, girl.”

“
I am?”

“
You just said ‘y’all.’ That’s a mighty big step.” She runs a hand through Penny’s hair. “And you got better than good hair, child. Wish I had me some of this.”

“
It doesn’t stay braided long enough,” Penny says.

Rose places her hands on Penny’s sagging shoulders. “I know a few tricks.” Rose turns sharply to us. “Y’all just gonna stand there or what?”

“
I, uh,” I stutter, “I don’t know what—”

“
Come over here,” Rose orders, and we get to stepping. “Now get up in here and give your sister a hug. Both of you.”

“
Yes ma’am,” I say, and I pull Penny to me as she weeps. My eyes are filling, too. What is happening to me?

“
Why are you crying?” Penny whispers.

“
It’s nothing.” I pull away drying my eyes on my shirt and walk down the sidewalk to wait while Rufus lifts Penny high into the air and calls her “Sis-tuh Penny!”

Rose walks up to me. “You all right?”

“
Yeah.”

“
You hurtin’?”

“
Some.” But not for a fix. Or maybe I am, I don’t know. I’m just irritable all of a sudden. I should be happy that Penny found “her people,” but I’m not. She just found her “family” on a bridge over the Licking River. Why can’t I be so lucky?

“
We’ll get on back then, get you some of that pie, okay?” She squeezes my arm.

“
Yeah.”

The pie is delicious, reminding me of Sunday lunch after service at Ebenezer, but I’m not feeling the conversation Rufus, Rose, and Penny are having.

“
I do
so
got some extra on my behind,” Penny says.

“
But you ain’t got
back,
” Rufus says. “You ain’t got you a
shelf.
”

“
You don’t need one and you don’t want one, child,” Rose says. “You got to learn to do with what you have.”

“
I’m going to bed,” I tell them, putting my dish in the sink.

“
I’ll walk you up,” Rose says.

“
That’s all right,” I say. I force a smile for Penny. “See
y’all
in the morning.”

“
Good night, Man-
well,
” Penny says with a giggle.

I go up to my room and get into bed. I turn on the TV to a baseball game and half watch while I try to think.

I feel … I feel like a guy stuck on second base who has to keep running back to the bag, who can’t go to third because he isn’t fast enough to steal the base, who’s stuck halfway from home. It’s hard to be half a man. It’s like I’m up at the plate with a toothpick trying to hit a hundred-mile-an-hour fastball. It’s helpless to be half a man. It’s like I’m some outfielder staring up into the night looking for a ball that will never come down, but if I don’t catch it I’ll catch hell from the coach and get booed by the fans. It’s futile to be half a man. It’s like I’m a pitcher trying to throw strikes but the strike zone keeps moving so no matter where I throw it the ball is high and outside or low and away and the only word the umpire knows is “Ball!” It’s frustrating to be half a man. It’s hard, helpless, futile, and frustrating. No one ever hugged me like that and called me “Bro-thuh Emmanuel!”