Have No Shame (37 page)

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Authors: Melissa Foster

BOOK: Have No Shame
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That evening, as Daddy listened to the news on the radio and Mama read on the couch, Maggie and I remained in our room. Maggie paced, her arms crossed, her face tight.

“As much as I love comin’ home to see you, Pix, I hate comin’ here because of how backwards this town is.” She didn’t give me a chance to respond. “Daddy wants to keep you here.” She grabbed my left hand. “Marry you off.” She pushed my hand into my lap and paced again. “It’s just…there’s so much—”

“Haven’t you learned your lesson yet, sis? Daddy’s gonna come up here and whoop your tail.” Jake stood in the doorframe, arms crossed.

Maggie spun around. “My lesson? Is that what you think this is about Jake? You’re just as bad as Daddy. Do you think I don’t know what you do out there?” Her hand shot out toward the window.

Jake clenched his jaw.

“Huh? Do you? You think you’re some groovy guy because you follow the other thugs in this town, beatin’ up coloreds and laughin’ while you walk away.”

Jake came away from the doorframe and stood tall, squinting at Maggie, his jaw muscles working overtime.

“It’s not right, Jake. And look,” she pointed at me.

I opened my eyes wide.
Me?
As much as I loved Maggie, I didn’t want Daddy yelling at me like that.
Please leave me out of this.

“Look at her, think of her,” Maggie continued. “Do you really want her to have a life like,” she paused, and then continued just above a whisper, “like Mama? Caterin’ to some man her whole life? Alison is smarter than that. She’s got her whole life ahead of her.”

“She’s not that smart.” His eyes never left Maggie’s. As much as his comment hurt, I knew Jake was aching inside by Maggie’s comment, since Daddy had kept him home. I swallowed my own feelings in hopes of the whole hurtful conversation blowing over.

“I know you hate me because they sent me to school, Jake, but the truth is, they didn’t send me over you. They sent me to get rid of me. I’m nothin’ but a pain to Daddy. You,” she rubbed her forehead, “you’re his meal ticket when he’s old and can no longer run the farm. You’re plenty smart enough to go to school outside of this crappy place, but he’ll never let you go.”

Jake’s eyes changed from angry to interested in the space of a second. Maggie sat down on her bed, and covered her face. I thought she was crying, until she lifted her face from her hands and I saw her reddened cheeks and a fierce look in her eye.

“I have to get out of here.” She stood up and began throwing her clothes into her suitcase.

“What? Why? You can’t leave,” Jake said.

I grabbed her arm, alarm bells going off in my head. I needed her. “Maggie, please don’t go. You just got here. Just stay, please.”
I have no one to confide in.

She shook me off and backed onto my bed, then pulled me down beside her. Jake sat down on Maggie’s bed, breathing hard, like he was ready to jump up and stop her if she tried to leave.

“Pixie, I know you don’t get this, and I know you are probably scared to leave this place, but trust me, please.” Her eyes bore into my heart. “You’re too young to get married. This isn’t Mama’s generation. You can get an education, have a life other than this, more than this.”

I looked from her to Jake. Deep creases ran across Jake’s forehead. He fidgeted with his hands in his lap. I looked back at Maggie, not sure what I felt, what I should say. So, instead, I remained quiet. Maggie filled the silence.

“Look at me,” she pleaded. “In New York, coloreds and whites talk, on the streets, in the shops. It’s not like here. Women are not only homemakers or garment workers, they’re secretaries and they work in the stores. They go out and dance. They don’t sit around on some dirty, old farm waitin’ for the next rainstorm to create chaos in their lives, or walk down the aisle at seventeen.”

“Eighteen,” I whispered.

“Eighteen. Pfft.” Maggie drew in a deep breath and blew it out loudly. “Do you love him? I mean really love him? Does he make your stomach quake, even now, after two years? Do you long to see him when you’re apart?”

I was afraid to answer honestly.

“Do you?”

I felt Jake’s eyes on me, and worried that he’d run and tell Jimmy Lee if I told the truth. “I don’t know.”

“What?” Maggie asked.

“I don’t know, okay? It’s just…he’s all I know.” I stood up and went to the window, thinking about Jackson’s arms wrapped around me. I hadn’t even kissed him, and yet I still felt a longing to see him that was stronger than I’d felt for Jimmy Lee in a long time. “Sometimes, he does things I don’t like,” I said.
Like beatin’ up Albert and makin’ me do things I don’t want to
. I let out a relieved sigh. It was out there in the open, someone besides me heard what was rattling around inside my head.

Jake’s eyes were as wide as a child’s seeing Santa Claus come down the chimney.

“Please, Jake, don’t say anything. Please?”

Maggie grabbed his arm. “If you say one word, I will kill you.”

“Maggie!” I said.

“Quiet, Pix. This is important. This is your entire life. If you love him and know it here,” she thumped her chest, “then I’ll shut up. But if you don’t, there’s no way you’re gonna marry him, unless it’s over my dead body.”

“Dramatic, don’t you think?” Jake pulled his arm from her grip.

“You don’t get it, Jake. Once she’s married, she’s stuck.”

Was she going to break up me and Jimmy Lee? Was she fixing to try to call off my wedding that was taking place in two months? I twirled the ring on my finger. Fear gripped my heart. My father would be furious.

“I said,
I don’t know
,” I interjected. “Maybe I do want to marry him.” I went back to the window, breathing fast and hard, my palms sweating against the wooden sill. The moon shone high in the sky, and my mind sought the image of Jackson, the nubby thickness of his hair, the softness of his eyes. Jackson and I had developed a system. If I were able to meet him right after he was off work, I’d leave my library books on the front porch, and if I had to meet him after supper, I left them on the rocking chair. I had done my reading on the front porch just before dinnertime, and purposely left my book on the rocking chair. Now I wondered how I’d ever get out to see him—and I wanted to more than anything in the world. My only hope of sneaking out was while Maggie was asleep, and I’m not sure she’d ever go to sleep at the rate our conversation was escalating.

“If you don’t know, that means you aren’t sure,” Maggie said.

“Don’t push her, Maggie. Just because you like it out there doesn’t mean she will.”

They both stared at me and I wondered how it was possible that our parents hadn’t come up stairs with all the noise we were making.

“I’m so tired. Can we just be done already?” I asked.

Maggie threw her hands up. “Whatever you want, Pixie. I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy,” I lied. Jake left our room, leaving me filled with guilt, which burned in my stomach like a bonfire.

“He’s scared. Daddy will never let him leave.”

I flopped onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. After the rush of adrenaline that carried our discussion, my body was heavy and tired. I listened to Maggie in the bathroom, brushing her teeth and washing her face. Daddy’s radio silenced, and my mind ran in circles, thinking of my upcoming wedding, which I’d been so carefully ignoring.

Heavy footsteps ascended the stairs.

“Goodnight, Maggie.” My father peeked into my room and smiled. “Goodnight, Pix,” he said.

I listened for Maggie’s response. It saddened me to know Daddy was answered with silence. “Goodnight, Daddy,” I said.

Maggie came back into the room, closed the door, and climbed into her bed. She lit a candle on the nightstand, then turned off her light. “Don’t let Jake make you stay, either. He’s afraid he’ll be left all alone.” There was an edge to her voice, a warning.

I looked at her then, her silhouette striking in the flickering light. “I never said I wanted to leave.”

Maggie squinted in the darkness. “Oh, Pixie, is it too late? Have they ruined you for life?”

I didn’t understand why Maggie was pushing me away from Jimmy Lee and Forrest Town.  Or maybe I did. Maybe what I was just starting to figure out, Maggie had figured out long ago. I was torn between annoyed and curious.  “Jake doesn’t care if I’m here or not,” I said.

“No, he just doesn’t want to seem like he needs you. Everyone needs someone, and we’re all he’s got right now. He hangs out with guys who do nothin’ but get in trouble.”

“Hey, Jimmy Lee is one of those guys.”

“Sorry,” she said quietly, then she sat bolt upright in her bed, mischief in her eyes. “Pix, the world is about to change more than you could ever imagine.” She leaned toward me and whispered. “The white people here are assholes, Pix. The schools are not supposed to still be segregated.”

She spoke so fast I could hardly keep up.

Two seconds later she was perched atop my bed, sitting cross-legged, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. “Things are happenin’, and they’re gonna happen here, too. There’s this group, the Black Panthers, and they’re just gettin’ together out in California, but my friends say they’re formin’ in New York, too. They’re gonna help the coloreds gain equal rights.”

“Didn’t Martin Luther King do that?”

“Look around you,” she said.

I looked around the bedroom.

“Not here, out there.” Maggie pointed to the window. “You tell me, did good old Mr. King fix things here in backwoods Arkansas? Can coloreds eat at the diner and go see movies in our theaters?”

Maggie was scaring me. What she said was true, it was like Mr. King’s words were empty in our town—the white folks still ruled the roost. I assumed they always would.

Maggie stood up and paced, energized by her own vision. “I’m joinin’ ‘em, Pix. As soon as I get back to New York, I’m gonna help.”

“You can’t do that. It’ll be dangerous. I hear about race riots on the radio when Daddy listens.” I grabbed her arm. “Please, Maggie. Please don’t do it.”

She sat back down next to me. “I’m a woman. I’ll be behind the scenes, helpin’ the families and children. Oh, Pixie, I can barely walk by Division Street anymore without feelin’ sick to my stomach. Those poor kids haven’t a clue how they’re bein’ held back.”

It occurred to me that Maggie wanted to fight for exactly what my heart was aching over. She hadn’t said anything about white folks dating black folks, but if this whole movement went as she hoped, couldn’t that naturally follow? Maybe not, and maybe never in my daddy’s world. “Daddy will never let you do it.” Fear prickled my arms. I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to Maggie.

“Daddy won’t know.” She stifled my response with her glare. “Don’t you care about what’s goin’ on ‘round here?”

More than you know
. I thought of Jackson standing out by the creek in the pitch black waiting for me, risking his life just to talk to me, and the excitement that chased me as I ran through the fields toward him. “I care. I do care.”

“Then you won’t tell Daddy.”

Lying to Daddy was new to me. Before meeting Jackson I’d only lied twice—once two years ago about if Jimmy Lee had ever tried to touch me in ways that weren’t appropriate (I wanted Jimmy Lee to touch me, so I didn’t feel that was really a lie, or inappropriate), and the other time just the other day about where I had been when I missed dinner. I wasn’t about to tell Daddy that I was with Jackson.

“Okay, but promise me that you won’t do anything dangerous.”

Maggie nodded fast and furious, then took me in her long, sinewy arms and hugged me tight. She pulled away and said, “Okay, good. Good.” She hopped over to her bed and dove under the covers.

I lay in bed waiting for Maggie to fall asleep, and hoping Jackson wouldn’t leave. The hours had passed by so quickly that I was sure he had. But still, I had to try to see him, drawn to him like a thirsty man to a river. The spark of electricity, the pull in my stomach I’d felt when Jackson held me, came rushing back and made me shiver. The right and wrong of being together made it that much more titillating. How I craved to share my secret!

I wondered if I was missing some clue, an indication that Jackson would one day become just as hurtful as Jimmy Lee. Did all boys eventually evolve into selfish, aggressive men? My father didn’t seem that way, but then again, he treated his farmhands like machines. Wasn’t that just as bad?

I don’t know how long I laid there, worrying on the thought and craving his touch at the same time, but when I looked over, Maggie was fast asleep.

I turned to face the wall, still in my skirt and blouse, and fought the urge to see Jackson. I didn’t want to put him in danger.

Ten minutes later I snuck out the back door and ran through the field, my heart thumping like a jackrabbit.
Please be there. Please be there.
I slowed as I neared our meeting spot, listening to the soft voices of nature. Inhaling the scent of the creek, my nerves pulled tight as a spool of yarn. Maggie’s words and the hope of freedom for the Johns family flitted through me.

I flicked on my flashlight. “Jackson?”

Silence.

I walked toward the water, illuminating the dark night. “Jackson?” I called again. He was gone. Had he even come and waited for me? Fear shot through me like a bullet.
Jimmy Lee. Oh God, no
. I turned and ran toward home. If Jimmy Lee got wind of us, he’d kill him. My foot caught on a ditch and my body fell forward, landing on the earth with a thud. My hands and knees stung. I cried out as I pushed myself up. The darkness consumed me. I brushed myself off, praying Jimmy Lee didn’t find out about Jackson.

My flashlight grew dim. I reached for it just as it went dark. Dead.
A sign?
I was too frightened to think straight. I had to find Jackson.
Please, Lord, please let him be okay
.

“Alison.”

My heart jumped into my throat. I spun toward his voice. Jackson’s worry-filled eyes stole my breath. He reached for my trembling body and pulled me close, one hand on the back of my head, like Mama used to do when I was a little girl, the other hand on my lower back.

“Shhh.”

I shivered from the cold and couldn’t stop the river of tears. The relief in my heart was too big. I opened my mouth to speak, but a coherent string of words didn’t come. I’d already pictured his bloated body mirroring Mr. Bingham’s and couldn’t reconcile the image with the living, breathing man before me.

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