Have No Shame (22 page)

“But nothin’. Listen to me. This is real, Alison. This is life and death. If Mr. Carlisle thinks we’re plannin’ to help the colored folks, he’ll take us all out. I have no doubt.”

“That sounds really paranoid,” I said.

“Maybe, but think about it. Jimmy Lee found your letters from Maggie.”

“How do you know that?”

“Maggie told me.”

“Oh, God.”

“She was worried about you,” Mama explained.

“So, you knew what Maggie was up to this whole time?”

“I’ve known what Maggie was up to since she was five. Why do you think I encouraged your father to send her to New York? I have friends there who keep an eye out for her.”

Who is this woman?
 “You have friends in New York?”

Mama blinked, her cheeks flushed, as if a fond memory had wormed its way into her mind. “A friend who relocated there after high school. If Maggie had stayed here, she’d have gotten herself killed, or put in jail. She was a wildfire waitin’ to burn. Once she sets her sights on somethin’, she pushes until she’s right in the thick of it. In New York, she can burn all she wants and people will rally around her—she’s one of thousands, not a seed in the miniscule flowerbed of Forrest Town.”

The truth of her words hung between us. I realized that what I’d seen of her was merely what she wanted me to see. I wondered if she worried that once the outside layer was removed, the others might unravel.

I knew that, when Mama was young, she had painted beautiful pictures, like the one inside the barn, but she’d given that up before I was born, and I’d never seen her pick up a paint brush a day in my life. Now, I wanted to know how that felt—givin’ up somethin’ you loved. I wondered if it were strangely like how I had felt about Jackson, the night at the creek when I’d let him go.

“Mama, why’d you give up paintin’?”

Mama stared off into the fields. “Oh, honey, I wasn’t that good, not like Jake, and things were so different then. Women didn’t go traipsin’ off to some big city to follow their dreams.”

“Couldn’t you follow them here? Take classes, continue to paint?”

She shook her head, and looked at me as she had when I was a little girl dreamin’ of things that were far more magnificent than I would ever see. “I tried. I painted a bit when Maggie and Jake were younger, but life takes over, and Daddy and I had no money. Grandma and Grandpa left us some, but not much. Sometimes what you want to do isn’t really what you’re meant to do. I like my life just fine. Besides, I’m old, honey. Now it’s your turn.”

“Old? You look like my sister.” We laughed, and it felt good to let down my guard for a minute. Lately it felt like I was hidin’ behind a coat of armor. Mama’s forehead grew tight again, and I knew our moment was over.

“Listen, Alison, you need to be very careful. Stand by your husband. Don’t give him any reason to believe that somethin’ bigger than what he’s already goin’ through is goin’ on. To everyone in town, you are the wife of a wayward husband—to your husband, you’re his savin’ grace. Men fall hard, and he will. He might get mean, and if he does, you leave immediately. Call me and I’ll come get you, but I don’t think he’s gonna go in that direction. Most bullies—and that’s what he is, a bully who beats up kids—they turn into whiny babies. Once the seriousness of this comes forward, he’ll cling to you like a child, and the town will rally around you out of pity.”

“No, they won’t. You should’ve seen the spears they shot at me in the market. You’da thought I was the one who beat up Thomas Green. And besides, I don’t want pity.”

Mama leaned back against the tree, once more. “There are bigger things on the horizon. Pity isn’t so bad. You’re young, you’re just startin’ out in your life. Pity will endear them to you and you will come out on top.”

“Are you worried, Mama? About the boycott?”

Her eyes darted back toward the house and fields. She nodded. “Yes, but you and I, we aren’t gonna be in it. We’re behind the scenes, and we’ll stay there. Maggie’s gonna stay in New York. I’m more worried about someone findin’ out about it ahead of time. If anyone finds out we’re involved,” her eyes met mine, and held them, “well, let’s just not let them.”

“Then why should I stay with Jimmy Lee? Can’t I come home? I feel like a lamb tied to a tree.”

“I’m not givin’ you up like a sacrificial lamb,” she laughed. “If you support Jimmy Lee, he’ll have no reason to doubt your motivations. If you argue with him, work against him, leave him, he’ll have reason to be concerned and may go nosin’ around. The last thing you do to a snake is hit it with a rake. It’ll turn on you faster than you can run away.” She leaned forward and softened her tone. “You know I love you, and I’d bring you home today, but there are many lives at stake here, and we’re too deep in to turn back.”

“Do you wish you could? Turn back, I mean?”

“From bein’ involved? No, but with other things—”

“Meanin’?” I could see somethin’ else festerin’ in the worry of her hands on the edge of the rocker.

“I wish I could turn back time and stand up for my children more.”

The hammer came down a week later, swift and skillful. Mama came into town and was havin’ a cup of coffee at the diner when we heard shoutin’ outside.

“What are those boys up to now?” Jean said as she walked toward the front window. “I swear, there’s more fightin’ in this town—” She peered out front and called for me, wavin’ her hand to hurry me along.

“What is it?” I set down my order pad and excused myself from my customer. Mama got up from the counter and followed me to the window.

Down the street, Jimmy Lee stood red-faced, chest heavin’, before two men in dark suits who stood in front of Mr. Mackey’s law office. Mr. Carlisle was rushin’ up the sidewalk from the direction of the store. Jimmy Lee’s voice rang out, echoin’ between the buildin’s. I could not make out the words, or maybe I didn’t want to.

“Oh, sweetheart, your man’s in a bit of trouble, isn’t he?” Jean took my hand and walked me toward one of the booths.

I glanced at Mama.
Pity.
How could she have known?

“It’s okay, Alison. You just sit here and we’ll find out what’s goin’ on.” Jean looked at Mama.

“Yes, right. I’ll go see if I can calm things down.”

“Mama?” I worried that Jimmy Lee might get upset if she intervened. Mama held her hand up, as if to say she had it under control. She pulled her shoulders back and walked out the door toward the ruckus.

Customers rose from their seats and gathered in the front window, watchin’ the scene unfold. I remained seated, my head bowed. I would accept that pity with grace, just as Mama had advised.

A knock at the back door startled me.

“I’ve got it, hun. It’s gonna be Tinsel, come for his daddy’s food. He’s so cute.” She hurried off and I knew that if it wasn’t Tinsel, if it was Patricia, I’d have missed my chance at a letter from Jackson. I sat and listened to my husband’s life fallin’ apart out front and my worry mounted about what was transpirin’ out back. Mr. Bingham’s ravaged body came to me, strengthenin’ my resolve. My husband deserved whatever they doled out to him.

The bell over the door jingled as Mama came back into the diner. She walked strong and tall toward the booth, and slid in across from me. She leaned in close and whispered, “They’re pressin’ charges for what he did to Thomas Green. Those are attorneys, here to meet with Thomas’ family. I didn’t hear too much, but from what I gathered, Jimmy Lee caught wind of their visit and, well, you know, sort of lost it.”

“What should I do?”

“Nothin’. You do just what you’re doin’. Tonight, don’t bring it up. Let him stew. He’ll talk when he’s ready. Be as invisible as you can. The more you pry, the angrier he’ll get. He needs to know you believe in him and that he’s not alone.”

“But I don’t believe in him. What he did was wrong.”

“I know.” She took hold of my hand. “Now is not the time to show your strength, now is the time to make your husband love you."

The shoutin’ outside the diner quieted. Jean moved toward the front of the diner. “Okay, people. Sit down and eat. The show’s over.” She wrangled customers back to their seats and brought me a cup of tea.

“I’m okay, Jean, really.”

“You have a lot on your family’s dinner plate right now, Alison. Why don’t you take the afternoon off and go relax.”

“Relax?” I no longer knew what that word meant.

Before I even got inside the apartment that afternoon, Jimmy Lee was askin’ me questions.

“Finally. Where have you been?”

I set my purse on the table and stood by the door, weighin’ his mood. “I was at work.” It took all my strength not to let him know how embarrassed I was, or how angry.

“Those niggers hired lawyers.”

Should I act surprised? I was glad he’d been caught.
I didn’t have a clue how to respond, but I didn’t have to decide, because in his next breath, he told me everything.

“They’re pressin’ charges for beatin’ up that little shit, Thomas Green.”

And Mr. Bingham?

“My uncle’s lawyer says it’ll never stick,” he fumed.

His eyes were glassy, open wide like a crazed animal, his hair disheveled. I almost felt sorry for him—until I thought of Mr. Bingham, Albert, and Thomas. I walked over to the couch where he sat and lowered myself down on the far end. I hoped the charges would stick, and I swallowed the urge to tell him so.

“So, now, I go to work and I come home. He said they’d be watchin’ me, or some shit like that.”

“Okay,” was all I could manage.
Home?
At least he wouldn’t be at that dirty bar, if, in fact, that was even where he’d been hangin’ out.

“Alison, I know I haven’t been the best husband in the world, and I’m sorry.”

How did Mama know?
“It’s okay,” I whispered.

“No, no it’s not. I haven’t been home, and you’re all pregnant and everything. I promise I’ll be better. No more goin’ out for drinks, no more late nights. I’ll be home every night on time.”

Because you have to be.

Jimmy Lee sprang to his feet when someone knocked on the door, his eyes wide and fear-filled. Every muscle in his body clenched.

He looked out the window. “Police.”

Police!
I hadn’t thought the situation through. Of course they’d come for him. Panic pounded in my chest and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck prickled. “What do we do?”

He put his hands on his hips, then crossed them over his chest, and blew out a long breath. “Answer the door.”

We stood a foot apart, eyes locked on each other. He reached for me and I clamored into his arms, unexpected tears fillin’ my eyes.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too.” I was shocked by my need to hold onto him. I felt like a piece of me was bein’ arrested with him. He pulled away from me and went to the door.

“Ma’am.” Officer Chandler stood in the doorway, noddin’ at me as he spoke; his partner stood silently beside him. “Jimmy Lee, we gotta take you in.”

Jimmy Lee nodded. I ran to his side and wrapped my arms around him. I might not be in love with him, but at that moment, I realized that I did love him, and it hurt like hell to listen to Officer Chandler give him his Miranda Warnin’ and to see Jimmy Lee’s shoulders roll forward and his head hang low.

Jimmy Lee stared at the floor. “Yes, sir. I understand. Yes, sir.” He spoke without lookin’ at me. “Alison, call Uncle Billy.”

I picked up the phone as the door closed behind them. I stood with the phone in my tremblin’ hand, the magnitude of what he’d done pressin’ in on me. I was married to a felon. My husband was goin’ to jail.

“Mr. Carlisle? This is Alison. Jimmy Lee’s just been taken to the police station.” Tears flowed steady and warm down my cheeks as I pressed the phone to my ear. Why was I so darn upset? It made no sense. I should be happy that he was out of my way. There would be no threat to me as long as he was gone, and still, I was torn, and scared, and alone.

“Thank you. We’ll take care of it,” he answered.

“Should I go to the police station?” I was already thinkin’ ahead about callin’ Mama and havin’ her drive me there.

“No, you stay put. We’ll take care of it and bring him home.” Jimmy Lee’s uncle spoke confidently.

I hung up the phone and called Mama.

“Hello?” My father’s voice caught me off guard.

“Daddy?”

“Pixie?”

He knew. I could hear it in his tone. “Hi, Daddy, is Mama there?”

“Are you okay? Do you want me to come get you, bring you home for a bit?”

Yes, God yes!
“No, I’m okay. I just need to talk to Mama.”

“They’ll get him off, Pix, you know they will. He’ll be back home before you know it.”

That’s all I need
. Daddy was bein’ positive because that’s what he thought I wanted. I felt guilty acceptin’ Daddy’s careful coddlin’ when I knew I should be fessin’ up to the truth of my feelin’s.

“Those damn Negros, they’re bitin’ off more than they can chew with Jimmy Lee Carlisle.”

“Daddy! They didn’t do anything wrong.”
Damn it. Why can’t I do what Mama told me to do?
I listened to Daddy’s heavy breath come through the phone. “Sorry, Daddy, I mean, I don’t know what I mean. I’m all confused. Can I please just talk to Mama?”

My father didn’t say a word. He set down the phone and I listened to his heavy footsteps retreat on the wooden floor.

“Alison? Are you alright, honey?”

“Yes. I think I made Daddy mad, though. They arrested Jimmy Lee. They took him in!” My words fell fast and panicky from my lips. “He told me to call his uncle, Billy, which I did. What should I do now?”

“Alison, take a deep breath. Calm down. It’s gonna be fine.”

“Okay,” I said, and then did as she asked.

“What’s his uncle doin’?”

“He told me to stay home and he’d take care of it. I have no idea what that means—get a lawyer, I guess. Mama, Jimmy Lee is in
jail
.” I rubbed my belly. “I’m not ready for this. This is too much.”

“Alison, grab a chair and sit down.”

She waited while I settled myself onto a kitchen chair.