Forged by Fire (4 page)

Five minutes later, in clean T-shirt and jeans, Gerald
walked slowly to the kitchen. The smell of warm maple syrup would forever be blended in his mind with the events of that birthday morning. For a moment he stood in the doorway of the kitchen, unnoticed.

He thought he had forgotten, but he would have known his mother anywhere. She didn't look much different from the last time he saw her, when her high heels had clicked out of his life and left him alone. She was thin, the color of coffee and cream, with her hair done in fresh finger curls. She wore a red dress—somehow he knew that she'd have on red—that was tightened at the waistline with a shiny gold belt. She was laughing. Unwillingly, he remembered how he used to love her laugh. For a long time it had echoed in his mind like musical memory, and suddenly the song was loud and bright and painful once more.

Standing next to his mother was a tall, chocolate brown man who was looking out of the kitchen window, paying no attention to the nervous conversation or the rich breakfast smells about him. He had hard, muscled shoulders under a tight white T-shirt and crisp blue jeans, and rather than the big brown work shoes worn by most of the men Gerald knew, this man had on shiny black cowboy boots with pointed toes and fancy stitching on the leather. He took a cigarette from the pack in his shirt pocket and had it halfway to his lips when Aunt Queen spoke.

“If you're gonna put fire on the end of that death stick you stuffin' in your mouth, you can do it on the porch.
There will be no smoking in my house, young man.” He turned, opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead merely gave Aunt Queen a hard look as he put the cigarette back.

Just then, Gerald's mother, Monique, the man with the cowboy boots, and Aunt Queen all seemed to notice Gerald at the same time. Monique inhaled sharply, put her hand to her mouth, and just stared at Gerald with wonder, fear, and admiration. Cowboy Boots had nothing to say, and Aunt Queen decided to let the moment happen by itself.

“Hi,” whispered a tiny voice from the largest kitchen chair. It was only then that Gerald noticed the little girl. She was sitting cross-legged in the chair and evidently had been watching him as he observed the scene in the kitchen. Gerald thought she looked like one of those glass dolls that shatter when you drop them. She was the color of pale caramel, with skin thin and waxy stretched over long, delicate bones. She had on a long-sleeved dress that was too big for her and, even though it was hot, long black tights. But it was her eyes that made Gerald stare. They seemed to fill her small face. They were a soft hazel color, and they had seen many tears.

“My baby!” sighed Monique at last. “Can you come speak to your mama, son?”

“Hey, Mama,” said Gerald slowly. He didn't know what else to say. So he just stood there, staring at his tennis shoes, wishing that it were yesterday, or even tomorrow.

Monique tried to fill in the blank space between them.
“Happy birthday, Gerald,” she said, smiling at him. “It's been a long time. But I want you to know that you've always been in my heart. Always.”

Gerald nodded uncomfortably. The pale little girl in the kitchen chair giggled.

As if glad to have something to do, Monique picked up the child and, looking at Gerald as if for approval, said, “And this here is Angel, your sister.”

“Sister?”
exclaimed Gerald loudly. “Aunt Queen? What's she talkin' about? I ain't got no sister! And who is this dude with the cowboy boots?”

Aunt Queen, who had been silent, finally said, “Let's all sit down to breakfast and we'll go over the whole story. Jordan, would you say grace?”

Jordan walked his cowboy boots over to the table, sat down, and finally spoke. His voice was rough and gravelly, like he needed to clear his throat. He gave Aunt Queen another of those hard, cold looks, then muttered, “Let Gerald do it.”

Aunt Queen, who realized that they didn't need any more tension that morning, replied with quiet authority, “Let us pray. Dear Lord, be with this family. We're gonna need you. Bless this food, and please be with Gerald on this special day. Amen.”

Monique smiled nervously and admitted to Gerald, “Well, I guess you've got quite a few questions. Here, have some syrup on those pancakes. I remember how much you like maple syrup.”

Gerald just frowned. The pancakes could have been cooked shoes for all he could taste, and the sweet smell of the syrup was making him feel sick. He couldn't understand why Aunt Queen would let him go through this ordeal, especially on his birthday. He glanced across the table at her, and she looked pretty miserable as well. Jordan had a plateful of sausages and pancakes, but he looked angry for some reason. The little girl, Angel, was humming quietly to herself and licking maple syrup from her fingers.

“Gerald,” Aunt Queen began gently, “you didn't know it—in fact, nobody did—but your mama was pregnant when she went to jail. The baby, Angel, was born there. I tried to get custody when she was born, but Jordan here says he's her daddy, and he and his mother have been raising her down in Atlanta. This is the first time I've seen her.”

Queen smiled at the child, but Angel wouldn't look at her. She just kept pouring maple syrup on her fingers.

“We've been back in Cincinnati for almost a year now, Gerald,” continued Monique. “Me and Jordan are married. We got jobs, and Angel is in first grade. I didn't want to come and see you until I could, uh, make you proud of me. So I waited till your birthday.” Gerald looked up at her and gave her a half-smile. Monique looked encouraged, took a deep breath, and blurted, “Me and Jordan want you to come and live with us!”

Gerald choked, sputtered, and leaped from the table. “Live with you!” he shouted. “You gotta be kidding!” Tears
filled his eyes and he ran out of the kitchen door, letting it slam behind him. He grabbed his bike and pedaled furiously away. It was very quiet in the kitchen for a moment.

Aunt Queen was furious. “Why'd you do a fool thing like that?” she roared. “The boy wasn't ready. You been remembering him every day for the last six years. But he's been forgetting you. I thought we agreed that you'd let me mention the subject to him, gradually, in the next few weeks, after he'd had a chance to visit your place, after he got to know you better and feel comfortable with you. And it was s'posed to be
his
choice!”

“I'm sorry,” Monique sobbed. “I couldn't help it! I was just so excited about seein' him. Now I've ruined everything! Jordan, what should I do?” Monique asked plaintively.

Jordan looked at her briefly and shrugged. “Your kid. Your call.” He got up suddenly and Monique moved deftly out of his way, but she wasn't quite swift enough. He brushed roughly against her as he was heading out the door. “I'm goin' out for a smoke,” he said to no one in particular. He did not acknowledge Aunt Queen, nor did he thank her for the meal.

Aunt Queen sighed. “Gerald will be gone for a while. I'll talk to him when he gets back. We gotta take this slow, Monique. That boy ain't goin' nowhere he don't want to, you understand?”

Monique slumped in her seat and nodded. She completely ignored Angel, who had eaten very little and had not said a word throughout the meal.

Queen said to the child, “Come over here, honey, and let's wash those sticky hands. How about if I slice an apple for you?” Angel nodded. “So,” Aunt Queen asked her gently, “tell me what you think of your brother.”

Angel smiled softly. “I think he's scared.”

“You're right, little one. I think we're all a little scared,” replied Aunt Queen.

M
ONIQUE AND JORDAN
got tired of waiting for Gerald to return and decided to leave and come back later. Monique was worried, and Jordan, sullen and angry-looking, made her nervous and unable to sit still. They left Angel with Aunt Queen and promised to return in a couple of hours. Angel didn't even look up when they left.

Aunt Queen could see that the child needed some serious mothering. She picked her up with ease, sat Angel on her lap, and just held her for a few minutes. Angel at first was stiff and almost trembling. Gradually she relaxed and let herself sink into the warmth of Aunt Queen's hug.

“So, how do you like Cincinnati, little one?” asked Queen softly.

“It's okay,” whispered Angel.

“Do you miss your friends in Atlanta?”

“I didn't have no friends.”

“What about your grandma? Don't you miss her?”

“She usta yell a lot. She said she was glad I was leavin'. She said I cry too much.”

Queen tensed with anger, but didn't want to show Angel. “It's okay to cry, little one,” said Queen as she held the trembling little body. “Nobody's gonna yell at you no more, you hear? Aunt Queen's gonna make it all better. You can cry on Aunt Queen anytime you feel like it, you hear?”

Angel sighed slowly and deeply, then dozed while Aunt Queen rocked her. Gerald walked in then, sweaty and still angry.

“They gone?” he asked.

“Yes, but they'll be back,” replied Queen.

“I ain't goin!” he yelled at Queen.

“You don't have to, Gerald. It was not s'posed to happen like it did. She told me that she was gonna ask you if you'd like to come and visit one weekend, to get to know her again, and Jordan, and this little darlin' here. That's all. Ain't nobody gonna take you away from me, you hear?”

“Yeah, I hear you,” replied Gerald grudgingly.

“She just got carried away with the excitement of seein' you. She didn't mean no harm.” Glancing down at the fragile bit of life in her lap, Aunt Queen asked Gerald, “Tell me, what do you think of our little Angel here?”

“She's awfully pretty,” replied Gerald. “But she looks real sad.”

“I don't think she's had a very happy life, Gerald. I wish I'd had her with me—with us. We woulda put a smile on that face.”

“And some meat on those bones!” Gerald laughed. “She's so little and skinny—she looks like she'll break.”

Angel opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Can I see your bike?” she asked. “I ain't never had a bike of my own.”

“Me neither,” said Gerald, “till Aunt Queen got it for my birthday. Come on, I'll teach you how to ride.”

“I can't ride that big old bike,” said Angel as she climbed down from Aunt Queen's lap.

“I won't let you fall,” said Gerald, laughing as they headed outside.

Queen interrupted them. “Why don't you take off those hot black stockings, honey. It's a real nice day.”

Angel look truly frightened and her large eyes looked like those of a deer, frozen in fear by a hunter's gun. “Oh, no, ma'am! I can't! Mama would get me! Mama would get me!”

“Okay, honey,” soothed Aunt Queen. “You can keep them on. I just wanted you to be more comfortable.”

Queen looked troubled as they left. That child was terrified of something, she knew. Something was not quite right.

I'm
gonna have a good talk with Monique when she gets back,
mused Queen.
That baby's missin' some lovin' in her life. And I suspect she's got some hurtin' in her life that I'm gonna put a stop to!

Queen watched them from the window. Gerald had friends in the neighborhood, but nobody really close. She didn't remember ever having seen him play with a girl. But she smiled as she watched the two children in the backyard.

Gerald, tough, brown, and wiry, seemed almost gentle as he helped the fragile, pale child balance on the bicycle. When the bike got off balance, he caught her and broke her fall, letting the bike hit the dirt rather than Angel. Then he brushed the dirt off her dress and helped her get a speck out of her eye. He was almost—protective of her. Queen thought it was a little unusual, since the two children had just met, but they really seemed to like each other.

Gerald was showing her all of the secrets of his backyard, while she obliged him by being genuinely impressed with his rock collection, his “fighting sticks,” and even his treasure box. Her large, expressive eyes looked at him with absolute adoration.

Queen muttered to herself, “Take him away from me? No way! What I need to do is bring that child here with me and Gerald. Poor little thing needs some lovin'.”

Suddenly Queen felt flushed and warm. She felt dizzy, then faint. She couldn't breathe. Her arms were tingling. She shook her arms and her head, trying to clear the thickness that was overtaking her. She tried to call out to Gerald, but the pain in her chest made it feel like it was going to explode. She gasped, then fell out of her wheelchair with a soft thud.

G
ERALD AND
A
NGEL
burst in the door together, laughing. “Hey, Aunt Queen,” Gerald began, “can we have some wat—” He stopped suddenly and screamed, “Aunt Queen! Aunt Queen! What happened?”