Blue Collar Blues (32 page)

“I never had a pet before.” She ruffled his furry ear. “I suppose you’ll get stuck with the name Kip.” She turned back to her grandfather and hugged him. “Thank you.”

Tomiko broke down in tears, hugging her kitten, then both of her natural grandparents. For the first time in her life, she felt embraced for who she was. She felt proud, and prouder still, now, to be black.

__________

People conceal much inside, blinding us to their secrets, using mirrors to reflect what they want us to see. America grants us this freedom, but perhaps some people take it too far. We are free. But free to kill? Khan wondered. Whatever bubbled to the surface within Tino had made him lose control.

What kind of lies lay behind Valentino’s facade? Luella’s?

Ethics seemed a roller-coaster ride inside one’s heart, Khan thought, a ride that most people lived on. If only all of us could put our mirrors down and show our honest needs. If only we realized that we don’t need most of what we so desperately scramble after, like Valentino and his damn overtime.

Like her own obsessive attachment to R.C.

Now Valentino was in a courtroom, awaiting his hearing. Luella lay dead, her husband and two grown sons left without her. Khan thought of her Mama Pearl and prayed for wisdom to understand the chaos around her.

But Khan also felt anger surfacing. Some of this violence and self-destruction could have been avoided. On Tuesday, September 1, the hourly workers were notified that Champion’s River Rouge Assembly Plant had become the strike target. And in two weeks, on September 14, the union had to agree on a national contract. What more could happen?

The union’s strategy was to target Rouge Assembly, one of Champion’s key plants. Eventually Champion Trim would be shut down and the workers would be laid off because of lack of storage space. Because Champion operated on a just-in-time system, there was no room for stockpiling. This action, the union felt, would allow their members at smaller Champion plants such as Troy Trim to be laid off eventually and draw unemployment benefits, which was approximately six hundred dollars weekly, instead of receiving the hundred-and-twenty-dollar strike pay.

These thoughts and more moved across Khan’s mind in the empty moments before the morning session began in Judge Robert O’Jay’s courtroom. The sound of spectators’ whispers could be heard as anxious moments of anticipation ticked by. Khan winced when Tino was brought in with shackles on his legs. His wrists were handcuffed to his waist and he looked unkempt. When he turned to acknowledge his family’s presence, sadness filled his face.

Khan sat next to Ron and Ida while they waited for the judge’s decision on Tino’s arraignment.

As they waited on the hard benches of the dingy courtroom, Khan heard her aunt and uncle arguing.

In order for Ron and Ida to secure an attorney for Valentino, Ron had to put a lien on his property for the fifty-thousand-dollar fee. Now he was furious.

Khan couldn’t believe it. After all the lectures he’d given her about putting money in the bank and saving for the strike, Uncle Ron was nearly as broke as she was.

Tino’s hearing was over quickly. Valentino was charged with first-degree murder and sent back to his cell in the Oakland County Jail in Pontiac.

Ron couldn’t wait until they were out of the courthouse before he blew up. Ida and Khan trailed after him. “That stupid son of a bitch!”

Ida stepped in front of his face. “Don’t you call my boy a son of a bitch unless you’re calling me a bitch.” She narrowed her eyes, and when she did, they were filled with tears. “Are you calling me a bitch, Ron?”

Khan could hardly breathe.
Please take it back. Please, please, Uncle Ron, don’t go there with Aunt Ida.

“No.”

Khan sighed in relief. “C’mon Uncle Ron, Aunt Ida. We can talk about this at home.”

But Ron was still furious and wouldn’t let up. “I knew some stupid shit like this would happen. That boy’s been having trouble for years trying to prove that he’s a man.”

“Uncle Ron, don’t—” Khan pleaded.

Aunt Ida stopped dead in her tracks; she was still wiping away the tears from their first argument. But her words were cold and cutting. “You impotent-ass bastard. Don’t you start in on my child. Take it out on that lizard faced bitch Elaine you’re fucking,
if
you’re able to fuck her. You—you . . . limp-dick whore.”

Oh my God! No, she didn’t go that low in front of me!
Khan was frozen in shock.

People were beginning to slow down as they walked by, listening. Everyone loved an argument, especially when the participants were hitting below the belt.

Ron didn’t appear the least bit fazed at Ida’s outburst. His darts of anger were clearly aimed at Valentino. “Your son’s bisexual. I bet you didn’t know that. I’ve known it for years. He’s been using his wife and child as a cover-up for his gay activities. I heard about it. Yeah,” Ron huffed, “I know a lot of people. I know a whole lot of shit that I ain’t told you about.”

Aw shit! Things are going to get ugly now.

“I told y’all to stop this mess. You’all ain’t gonna embarrass me up in here. Let’s go,” Ida said, rearing her right shoulder back and sniffing back her tears. “Just because he ain’t no whore like you don’t make him gay.”

“Fuck you, Ida.”

“And motherfuck you, Ron. And tell you
mammy
I said so.”

What’s happening to this family?
Khan began crying. “What’s wrong with y’all? I ain’t never seen y’all act like this before. Your son’s in jail. Your daughter-in-law’s in a terrible state, and your grandbaby is probably mixed up as hell because no one’s there for him. How can y’all sit here and argue about some stupid shit like this! You better be glad I got any respect left for both of you.” She brushed back tears that kept falling. “Now”—she gritted her teeth and balled her fists—“I said let’s go.” She marched off toward the car and didn’t look back.

Shortly afterwards, Khan heard them following her.

Khan drove them home in complete silence. Not a word was spoken until Khan told them good-bye.

When she returned home, she listened to a message from Thyme, asking Khan to have lunch at work. Lunch? Who in the hell could think about lunch when in a few weeks they might not be able to buy groceries for their families? Khan couldn’t get past the idea that somehow Thyme might have been able to do something to help prevent the tragedy of Luella’s death.

Khan was so pissed she nearly knocked the phone on the floor when she snatched the receiver off its cradle to dial Thyme’s number.

“Hello, it’s Khan. You left a message.” Khan tried to keep her voice steady and give her friend a chance to exonerate herself.

“I thought it would be nice if we could go out for lunch.”

“Hold up. Aren’t you aware that Champion is the strike target? River Rouge is scheduled to shut down, Thyme! Fuck Champion Motors. Or are you going to lie about that too! You’ve lied to me about everything—the outsourcing, the overtime!”

“Khan, I still don’t think River Rouge will walk, and anyway, I’m more concerned with getting some character witnesses for Valentino, and also about going to Luella’s funeral tomorrow.”

“Look, I’m not going to Luella’s funeral. You go. I’ve already sent flowers and my condolences to her husband and children. The way I feel now, I could use a few condolences myself.” Khan couldn’t hold her temper a minute longer. “It’s all your fault, you know. If you’d handled the overtime and monitored it like you said you would, none of this shit would have ever happened.” Khan was so mad she spat into the phone.

“That’s not fair, Khan.”

“Bullshit! You’re new collar and I’m blue collar, and you’re giving me the blues. I don’t want to have nothing more to do with your white ass-kissing, bitch!”

Thyme’s voice got nasty now too. “Hey girl, don’t get funky with me. Because up until now, you’ve been kissing up to some white folks too. That blond hair on your head—who you trying to be, Winnie Mandela? I hardly think so,” she snarled. “Marilyn Monroe is more like it. And she’s white,
ain’t
she? Last I heard, black folks don’t grow blond hair. I can read your broke blond ass like a Blondie and Dagwood cartoon, you’re so fucking simple and outrageous.”

“Say what?” Khan couldn’t believe Thyme was talking to her like this. They’d had small arguments before, but nothing like this. Things were getting too personal. “Let’s cut this conversation right now, Thyme, before we say some things we regret.”

“No. You started this shit. Now you listen.” She measured out each word carefully. “You heard me saying, I’m sure: ‘You know you ghetto when your country ass don’t even know you ghetto.’”

“Who you calling country? You white bitch!” Khan yelled.

“No, you the bitch,” Thyme said and hung up.

No, you didn’t hang up on me.
Khan picked up the phone and began dialing her back. She stopped. “Fuck her. She don’t know anything about my life, no way.”

Later that day, Khan was slumped on her sofa, feeling exhausted and dejected, when Buddy rang the doorbell. Khan was honestly glad to see him. They drank cold cocoa and talked in the living room. For some reason, he always sensed when she needed to talk. And he knew that now she needed to purge all the poison that had filled her heart with so much rage over the past few days.

“My cousin’s in jail for murder. I’ve cussed out my best friend, and my uncle and aunt are about to call it quits. What else could go wrong in my life?” she asked him.

“Slow down, Khan. Think about it. The problems in your life are about other people. Not to say that they’re not important. But what about you? What makes you happy? What gives you a moment or two of happiness that would make what you’re going through now bearable?”

“I get what you’re saying, Buddy. But I’ve screwed up my life, too. I ain’t got nobody. The man I love is married to somebody else. I already told you about that. I don’t know why I came to Detroit.” Her voice cracked, and her eyes misted with tears. “I should have stayed home.”

They were sitting in armchairs across from each other. But quicker than Robin could appear at Batman’s side, Buddy was kneeling beside her before the first tear touched her cheek. Buddy pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and patted both sides of her face. “Naw. Think about it. Then I would have never met you.” He smiled at her and placed her hands in his. “Try and slow down, Khan. Everything seems to be stacked against you right now. But God is watching. You’ve got to take that leap of faith and believe that time will heal all. I can feel in my heart what kind of woman you are. Even your relationship with R.C. was a loving one. Still, it’s time to let go of it.”

Despite herself, she loosed her hands from his and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tight. “I could kiss you. You always know what to say to make me feel better.”

He looked her casually in the eye. “Why don’t you kiss me? That would make me feel much better.”

“I’ve always loved challenges.” She kissed him softly on the lips. Half expecting for the kiss to be friendly, she was surprised to find herself giving in. The kiss felt luscious.

Apparently Buddy felt it too. He stood up straighter on his knees and pushed his upper body against her small breasts. His hands caressed her head, neck, and shoulders. The kiss deepened. She pushed her tongue between his lips until their tongues touched. And she was surprised to find herself falling back and welcoming the luxury of his tongue in her mouth.

Before she knew it, Buddy had slid on top of her in the chair and was pressing himself against her. There was no denying she needed the sex; she could feel the stresses of the day beginning to leave her body.

But suddenly she felt ambushed by her thoughts. Was she ready for another disappointment like the one she’d experienced with R.C.? No. She just couldn’t risk falling for this man. Not now.

Khan pushed Buddy off her. “No, Buddy. Please don’t.”

He eased himself away. When he did, his penis pressed against her thigh; the sensation roiled over and through her. “I won’t rush you, Khan. Especially now.” He pulled back abruptly, appearing to be embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

“Buddy . . .” She couldn’t even look at him. “It’s my fault.”

He gathered her hands in his. “No,” he said, kissing her hands innocently. “It’s mine. I was raised better.”

I was raised better!
Khan melted inside. Had he heard her talking to herself in his dreams? God, have mercy.

She tried once again to explain. “Buddy . . .”

He rose to leave. “Khan. You’re upset and you’re vulnerable. I knew that. I almost took advantage of you. I’m glad you stopped me. As a matter of fact, I thank you for stopping me. I don’t want
us
to start out like this.”

She couldn’t speak.

“Like I said, you’ve got a lot on your mind. When I’m in trouble, I talk to my aunt Viola. She’s all I’ve got, and I know she’ll be honest with me. Even when I’m wrong. It’s the same with you and your Mama Pearl—why don’t you go call her?” He kissed her hands once again and led her to the door.

“I don’t know what to say. I just know I need a friend like you.”

“Just promise me you’ll call your grandmother. That’s the most important thing you can do for yourself”—he winked at her—“and for me.”

Khan was floating when he left. R.C. had never given her that much respect. They would have been fucking five minutes ago. She realized that Buddy valued and respected her. Khan wondered whether she deserved so much.

She knew he was right about Mama Pearl, and as soon as she heard him start his engine, she picked up the telephone to call her.

Khan explained everything that had happened over the past few days. Mama Pearl did not consider Uncle Ron family. Ron’s brother had impregnated Mama Pearl’s daughter and left. And no matter how much Ron tried to bridge the gap between his brother and Mama Pearl, Pearl had no use for him. She’d almost lost her daughter to heartache. She’d never met Valentino, or Ida, but she listened with her honest heart as Khan told her everything, spilling out all the interweaving stories, all that was coming undone. And, as icing on the cake, for the first time she was honest with her grandmother about her relationship with R.C.