Authors: Lynne Bryant
Tags: #Mississippi, #Historic Sites, #Tour Guides (Persons), #Historic Buildings - Mississippi, #Mississippi - Race Relations, #Family Life, #African Americans - Mississippi, #Fiction, #General, #African American, #Historic Sites - Mississippi, #African Americans
"I still can't believe my good
luck," he says, taking my hand and kissing the palm. "But I miss you
every day, Gracie." He pauses. "I ... I want us to be together. I
know it might be too much to ask, but I want you to come with me. I want us to
get married and go on the road together." His voice trembles with
excitement. "Just think about the fun we could have! And I'm making enough
money now to support us. Mr. Armstrong even talks about doing shows overseas!
Imagine us, Gracie
—
going to Europe!"
I turn to look at him. I've
forgotten to breathe and my body is aching with love and desire for him. These
are exactly the words I've always wanted to hear from Junior Jackson. Somewhere
in the back of my mind, pushed into a corner, are the words I should say to him
about the other things I want, about my college education, about my obligations
to Dr. Prosser and the Calhouns. But he kisses me softly and gently cradles my
head as he lays me back on the ground. Right then I forget about Dr. Prosser
and the Calhouns, about my studies, or becoming a teacher. I even forget about
Vidalia Swenson and curfew.
For once, my mind goes quiet, and
the loneliness and fear I've been feeling for months is replaced with the
welcome weight of Junior's long lean body on mine, his kisses covering my face
and breasts, and our love-making on a pine-scented carpet of needles near the
pond behind Tougaloo College.
Of course, the first question I want to ask is what
happened next. But I'm always the one with the questions. Right now it seems
obvious — Grace never married, so she must have refused to go with him. As I
listen to this petite, wise woman talk about Junior Jackson and watch her
expressions, I can see glimpses of the young girl who made love with him on a
bed of pine needles so long ago. My heart aches to think she wasn't ever able
to throw caution to the wind, to run away with her lover and find a new life.
Billy Webster asks the question I don't. Billy is an
interesting woman — tall, beautiful, confident. She must be in her mid-to late
thirties, a Chicago career woman from what Mattie tells me. I envy her easy
closeness with these women, the way they dote on her. I want to be part of
their closeness, but I find myself keeping a little distance, still uncertain,
torn between wondering if I fit in and wondering if I want to.
"Miss Grace, that's so romantic!" Billy says.
"What happened? Did you run away with him?" Billy takes our plates
and brings the coffeepot over to pour warm-ups. Adelle and Mattie are watching
Grace. It's obvious that they know the answer, but this time they're letting
her tell the story.
"Oh, no, child," Grace answers. "But,
oh, how I wanted to." Grace looks at Adelle and Mattie for affirmation and
they nod. "I didn't want to lose him, but I didn't want to throw away my
own dreams, either, and I couldn't let Dr. Prosser down, not after all she'd
done for me. So I put him off, asked him to come back at Christmastime and
visit me. I told him that we could talk about it again then. We were all
planning to meet at Christmas, and I was hoping to convince him to stay."
I'm accustomed by now to Adelle's long silences, so
when she looks up from shuffling cards and speaks, I think we're all surprised.
"And then everything fell apart because of what
happened to me," she says.
"Now, Addie," Grace says. "We don't have
to talk about that. You know that was not your fault." Grace reaches over
and takes Adelle's hand and gives it a squeeze.
Mattie abruptly leans forward in her chair. "Help
me up, Billy. I got to use the ladies' room." Billy moves quickly to help
her grandmother out of her chair. Mattie refuses Billy's assistance with
walking to the rest-room. "I got it from here. You see if anyone wants
some more cake."
I look back at Grace, and she's shaking her head at
Adelle, as if to silence her again. Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room feels
uncomfortable. It's as if whatever Adelle is not saying is floating there among
us like a dark cloud in an otherwise pristine day.
We all make small talk while Mattie is gone, and we
refuse Billy's offers of more cake. Mattie returns and settles into her chair
and instructs Adelle to deal the hand. I glance at my watch. I know it's
getting late, but I'm hesitant to leave.
Adelle starts to deal and stops. She studies the cards
as if she's trying to remember what to do with them.
"Addie?" Grace asks.
"That Christmas changed everything, didn't it,
Gracie?" Adelle says.
"Things were already changing before that,
Addie."
Mattie looks from Grace to Adelle and coughs.
"Girls, I think we need to get on with our card game," she says.
"How about
I deal?" She takes the cards from Adelle, and
Grace continues to watch her. Billy and I are both silent. I'm trying to figure
out what's going on. What's so hard to talk about?
"Grace," Adelle says, taking a deep breath,
"I think we should talk about what happened."
"Oh, Lord," Mattie says, setting the cards
down. "Billy, look in that little refrigerator over there and bring me a
Coke." Mattie brings out the same bottle of whiskey she was working on the
day I met her. Billy looks over her shoulder at Adelle as she rummages in the
refrigerator for soda. None of us can take our eyes off of her. Billy brings
Mattie the Coke and a small glass of ice.
"Sweetie, if you want to talk about it, we'll talk
about it," Grace says gently.
Mattie shakes her head and mixes whiskey and Coke.
Billy hands her a spoon, which she pushes away. I tear my eyes from Adelle long
enough to see Mattie stick her long, black, gnarly finger in the drink and give
it a stir. I can feel the tension among the three women, but I don't understand
it. We're all watching Adelle now, waiting.
She looks up at Grace, who nods, as if giving her
permission to go on. Adelle
begins, "We
were all so excited to get home that year...."
December 1931
Adelle
As the bus travels through the
western Alabama countryside, I stare out the window thinking of home. I can see
my house, my warm bed, and the faces of Mama and Papa greeting me at the door.
It's not usually this cold, even in December. The seats for coloreds in the
back of the bus don't get much of the heat from up there at the front.
My whole body aches from lifting
patients and cleaning floors, so even this lumpy old bus seat feels good, but
I'm so excited to get home I can't sleep. Nurse's training at Tuskegee is the
hardest thing I've ever done. The hours are endless, and on top of the hours in
the hospital for training, they hire us out at least three weekends a month to
nurse sick folk out in the country. It's hard to believe that four months have
gone by since I started nursing school and I haven't been home once, until now.
I know it will be a wonderful
Christmas. I feel all warm inside as I think back to Mama's letter saying how
she's decorating the house and how Papa cut the largest cedar tree he could
find in the woods near Clarksville. Even better, Gracie's coming home. Mama
said in her letter that Junior probably won't make it. He's still on the road
with Mr. Armstrong's band and Christmas is his busiest time of year. But Gracie
and I know better! I'm thinking maybe, after what happened last month when he
visited her at Tougaloo, she's convinced him to come home.
Most of all, I can't wait to see
Zero. I've gotten only two letters from him in the whole time I've been away.
Papa and Mama say I shouldn't worry, that he's just busy. But there are those
moments when I can't help wondering if he's met some other girl and forgotten
all about me. I know it's silly but I can't help it. I miss him so much.
It's funny with Zero. He doesn't
think about wedding plans like I do. It's as if he's just always known we would
be together for the rest of our lives. He says he's going to come back and take
over Papa's medical practice, and I'll be his nurse until we have babies. We
even talked about building a house and where our children might go to college.
Our dreams are big. Sometimes I worry they're too big. I also feel guilty
because I have the man I want, if he hasn't forgotten me, that is. But Grace is
still waiting, hoping Junior will come back to Mississippi.
I shift my weight and try to get
more comfortable. They added three rows to the white section of the bus because
of the Christmas crowd of travelers, so I'm crammed into one seat with three
other women. I'm still wearing my nursing uniform because I left in such a
hurry to catch the bus. I just yanked off my cap, threw my two outfits and my
books into the suitcase and ran for the bus station. Mama and Papa aren't
expecting me until tomorrow afternoon, but I got an unexpected extra leave day,
so I flew to the station to catch the earliest bus I could. I smile as I think
about my plan to walk the few blocks home from the bus station and surprise
them.
I must have finally drifted off to
sleep, with my head resting against the window, because I wake with a start to
the sound of the bus driver's voice announcing, "Clarksville." Still
yawning and shaking myself awake, I go around the side of the bus to get my
suitcase. I shiver with the cold and pull my nursing cape closer around me. My
watch says eight o'clock. Mama and Papa are probably just now settling into
their chairs by the fire to read. If I walk fast, I can be home before they
start nodding off.
It's so good to be on the familiar
streets of Clarksville again. As I take the same route from the bus station to
our house on Fifth Avenue North that I've taken all my life, it seems like
nothing has changed. The lights are out at Jones's Cafe, since it closes
earlier in the winter. All I can think of is surprising Mama and Papa and
finding out whether or not Zero is coming home. I barely notice the two men
leaning against the building in the alley across from the barbershop.
My suitcase is too heavy. I probably
shouldn't have brought all my books home, but I need to study. I pause and
transfer the suitcase to my other hand. That's when I notice the footsteps
behind me. I turn, thinking it's probably just people leaving the pool hall,
but it's not. Cold fear grips my belly when I see two white men step out of the
shadows of the alley. I step up my pace, trying not to look as scared as I
feel. It's nothing, I tell myself. Just keep going. My heart is pounding out of
my chest and my suitcase suddenly feels like it's made of lead. For a second I
think I should just drop it and run, but then I decide I'm being silly.
Suddenly, they're right beside me,
one on either side. They press their shoulders so close to me I can smell the
cigarette smoke and the sour scent of moonshine. It's so dark on this part of
the street that I can barely see their faces. But as soon as the one on the
left opens his mouth, I know. Ray Tanner.
"Hey there, little nigger
nurse," Ray says to me. He looks across me at the other man and says,
"Pete, this here's the one I told you about. This is the one Zero Clark is
sweet on." The other man nods and grunts. Ray slurs on, "He'll come
running like a pig to slop for this one."
I try to ignore them, and walk
faster to get to the next corner. Only three blocks until home, I tell myself.
Just stay calm. But now, Ray and the other man move in front of me and block my
way. Ray Tanner's ugly pitted face leers down at me, and the other man grabs my
suitcase when I try to go around them.
"Hold on there, little nigger
nurse," Ray says, his breath reeking of whiskey. "I need me a nurse.
I'm hurting. I got me a hard-on that just won't go away." He tries to grab
my breast as the other man, a man I recognize but can't place, laughs and
throws my suitcase to the side. They force me into the alley.
I push Ray's hand away from my
breast and start to run, but he catches me and pushes me against the wall of
the building, clamping his filthy hand over my mouth.
"Pete, show our little nurse
here what we're going to do if she makes any noise."
My scream stops when I see Pete
flash his hunting knife. Ray presses himself into me until I can feel his
erection through my clothes. He rips my uniform open and sticks his hand down
between my breasts. I struggle to break free of his grip and try to get my knee
in a position to hit him in the balls, but he's too quick. He gets his leg in
between mine and pushes me down in the dirt of the alley.
"Hold her, Pete," Ray
says. "We'll show Zero Clark what happens when he messes in white folks'
business."
Pete comes around behind me, jerks
my arms above my head, and holds his knife to my throat. The last thing I
remember hearing is Pete laughing while Ray Tanner unbuttons his pants and
pulls up my dress.