Imani All Mine (12 page)

SIX

A
LITTLE AFTER
I went back to school from my Christmas break, Mama opened up her closet and pulled out a big old skeleton. Me and her and Imani was just sitting in the living room on a regular kind of Sunday. I was combing Imani head, while Mama was watching some old movie on TV. Then there was a knock at the door and Mama go to answer.

I thought it must be Miss Odetta coming over to make some work for me. But it wasn't even her. It was them bones still all up inside a white man. Mama pulled him into our living room and kissed him dead in the mouth on the rug I'd just vacuumed the day before. He the boyfriend she been keeping secret. She say his name Mitch.

It was like some bird flew inside me. Plucked out every word and flew off with them to put them in a nest. Somewhere out there in the wilderness up in some tree was my voice screaming in the wind. Mama done went and got herself a white man! When all I could do was sit there while that white man spoke to me.

He say, It's good meeting you, Tasha. Your mama has said such nice things about you.

I was thinking,
You might be telling the truth, but she ain't said nam word to me about you
.

My mouth was hanging open. All empty and dry. Mama was standing right next to him, throwing me dirty I'd-better-be-polite-now-or-she-going-to-slap-me-into-the-middle-of-next-week-later looks. I got a smile to come up out me from somewhere. A real smile. Not a fake one to stop Mama from knocking me through time when Mitch was gone and there wasn't going to be no good reason for her to be polite. It seemed to calm Mama down. I ain't mean no harm to Mitch. But no white person, let alone some white man Mama was saying was her boyfriend, ever set a foot in our house for nothing. And now here he was. And he was here for something. My mama.

Imani crawled right over to him. I don't think she cared nothing about him. All she wanted was to get away from me and the comb. Her hair was all napped up, because I hadn't done it in a week, and she was dodging the plastic comb like it was a straightening comb licking tongues of fire at her head. I was trying my best not to hurt her. I'd wet her hair and greased it good. But it was still hard to comb, and she was steady whining.

Mitch bent down like my baby was really interested in him, and say, Hello, darling.

And my baby had the nerve to reach her arms right out to him like he wasn't no stranger and white. Mitch picked her up and went and sat on the couch with Mama.

Mama say, Get me and Mitch something to drink.

Mitch say, I'll take a beer, if you got one.

Mama say, We ain't got no beer.

I say, I think Miss Odetta left one in the fridge.

Mama cut her eyes at me and say, We ain't got no beer. And even if we did, your ass ain't having nam up in here. You on your way to work, Mitch, and you know how you be when you drink.

Mitch say, It's only one little old beer, sugar.

Mama say, Bring us some Pepsi and some ice.

I went and got the drinks. Right on the shelf with the Pepsi was a beer. I picked it up but then put it back on the shelf. Shoot. If that white man was stupid enough to have Mama talk to him like he was a child with no sense, telling him what he could and couldn't have, then he was getting a Pepsi like Mama say.

When I come back in the living room, I heard Mitch say to Mama, She's so cute. If we go out with her, people will probably think she's our baby.

Mama rolled her eyes at him. Mama say, Shit, they can think what they want to think. But I got me one baby and I ain't never having no more.

I was thinking there was no way nobody was going to think my child was mixed up with nothing. Not with the nappy hair she got. I ain't like what Mitch say, anyway. Coming up into our house already claiming stuff which ain't bit more belong to him than the man in the moon.

I couldn't even look straight at him. He got this red red hair and freckles everywhere you can see and they run off into places you can't and never would want to see. I put the drinks down on the table and sat on the floor. Watching to see if he would put his shoes up on the table and start making more work for me for later. At least he kept his feet on the floor like somebody with manners. Like somebody not raised up in a barn, and he say, Thank you, darling. Didn't you get nothing for yourself?

I just shook my head.

Mitch kept pushing on trying to make a conversation where there wasn't none. So, your mama tells me you're going to be a doctor.

I looked up at Mama, and she say, She sure is. You looking at a future doctor right there.

And right there in the present, I feel like falling through the floor and all the way to China. Because all that talk about me being a doctor is turning into a big joke, because I'm failing Mr. Toliver class. Mama ain't know it right then. But report cards coming. I don't even want to see mine.

Mitch sipped on his Pepsi real polite and say to me, You listen to me, darling. Don't you let nothing keep you from your dreams. I gave up on mine too easy. I threw them away, and I'm working at the post office. And I'll tell you something. The post office is nobody's dream. It's a whole nother reality.

Mama say, Don't you even get started telling no stories up in here.

Mitch say, What story? I'm talking about my life, sugar. It's true. I wasn't much older than Tasha when I screwed my life right into the ground. Tasha, your mama has got a bad heart. She can't take hearing about nothing worrisome.

Mama say, Ain't a damn thing wrong with my heart. I just don't know why you feel you got to be telling your personal business. What make you think my child need to hear it?

For the first time I looked real direct at Mitch. Past all his freckles and into his blue eyes, and I say, I want to hear it.

Mama say, Mind your own business, girl. Ain't nobody talking to you. Mitch, go on to work before you late.

Yeah, I guess you're right, he say. He drank a big gulp of Pepsi and got up and put Imani on the floor next to me. He told me bye and walked with Mama to the door.

They stood there talking real quiet while I was wondering how Mitch screwed his life into the ground. Had somebody took a big old screwdriver to the top of his head, or had he done it hisself? I was thinking he probably done it hisself by just the way he talked. That he was probably some skinny white boy growing up out in a suburb who ain't had no better sense than to get off into drugs, never mind how many times they be telling you not to take them, and his brains got scrambled like eggs. Then he had to start stealing money from his mama pocketbook and TVs and toaster ovens from his neighbors to keep on using. Maybe he turned hisself into the kind of person his own mama ain't even trust. The kind of child you cried when you saw coming and cried when you saw leaving and in the middle time you cussed at and tried to slap sense into they heads while they just stared at the TV, because they loved you. But thought you was just they stupid mama crazy and carrying on. Maybe when Mitch gave up the drugs he was only fit to work at the post office or maybe hand out quarters at a laundromat and clean lint out of dryer filters.

What Mama wanted with him, I ain't even know. He wasn't good-looking nowhere I could see. Maybe somewhere I couldn't see, like up under the bottom of his foot, he was handsome. The next time he come over I was going to look close at his hands to see if he had one of them ink pen tattoos spelling out L.O.V.E. across the knuckles. The kind of tattoo kids with no sense and too much time on they hands be giving each other.

Mama kissed Mitch dead in the mouth again and stuck her hand in his back pocket where his wallet was.

Oh, I almost forgot, he say, as Mama pulled out his wallet and handed it to him. Mitch took out some bills and put them inside Mama bra. I don't know what was wrong with the both of them, because they was acting like me and Imani wasn't even there. After he put the money in Mama bra, he squeezed her titty and whispered something that made her laugh. She slapped his hand away and told him to quit. But I knew she ain't want him to, because she was smiling back.

When Mitch left, Mama wiped the smile right off her face and come back to the couch and say, So what you think of Mitch?

Imani come back to me. I held her close like a shield and say, I don't think nothing of him. I mean, I ain't got nothing to say.

Mama sucked her teeth. Aw, stop lying, Tasha. You got something to say, all right, but before you ever even
think
it. And Mama stopped talking and pulled the money from out her bra. This here is the money to get the cable turned back on. Legal. Its what you want, ain't it?

I ain't say nothing. I just sat there looking at Mama.

She say, Now shut up your mouth before a bird fly in it and build a nest.

I ain't even know my mouth was hanging open.

Maybe I should've felt grateful about what Mitch had done. But I didn't. Mama must think I'm some stupid little girl. She sat right down on the couch. Acting like Mitch some kind of Santa Claus. Acting like there is really some white man who come busting into black folks house to give they kids something for nothing. Just because they good for goodness sake. I knew there was only one way Mama could pay Mitch back for cable, and it made me turn my face away from hers, because I ain't want her to see it made me hate him.

I concentrated on doing Imani hair. Before I could even make another good, straight part, there was a knock at the door again. Mama told me to get it. I ain't want to, because I knew it had to be Miss Odetta for real.

It was. She was breathing hard like she had been running for miles, when all she did was come from right next door. It was real cold out. There was snow on the ground, but Miss Odetta ain't have on nothing but a housedress snapped up all crooked and a pair of house shoes dragging on her ashy feet. Her face was all lighted up. Not like she was drunk or nothing. But like it was full of gossip. I knew right then she knew about Mitch, and I was wondering what kind of unnatural bitch she is. Not like a bitch bitch. But like a dog. A female dog that's got some great hearing. She probably heard Mama opening up her closet door and that skeleton falling out. I was thinking right then I was going to make a stop down Woolworth basement where they keep the birds and fish and hamsters and it stink and see if they got a whistle only dogs can hear. If they got one, I'm going to get it and blow it out my window in the middle of the night to see if Miss Odetta come to our house like she did that day.

Miss Odetta was holding on to four cans of malt liquor in them plastic rings, and she pushed past me without even speaking. Like I'm nobody she even had to bother about saying a word to. One of the cans she has come loose and roll under her foot. She slipped on it and skated right by me toward the wall by the stairs, screaming, Jesus! Goddamn it! Watch out now! I laughed even though I shouldn't have. She ain't hit the wall, anyway. She caught hold of the bannister.

Mama come up behind me and say, Damn, Odetta, is you drunk? Coming in my house falling like you trying to get a lawsuit? You know I ain't got no goddamn money.

Miss Odetta say, Girl, I ain't been drinking. She picked up her can and headed for her favorite place on the couch. She light herself a cigarette, popped open a beer and put her damn feet right up on that table. Imani had pulled herself up to the table and was standing froze right next to the ashtray with smoke all up in her face. Mrs. Poole say secondhand smoke bad for a baby lungs. She showed us this cartoon film strip about this mama and daddy smoking all day around they baby. Then it showed the same day from how it seem to the baby. Every time the parents smoked, it showed the baby puffing on its own little cigarette. But I could tell my baby was standing there because she was having a bowel movement. She had this silly look on her face like she was half-embarrassed. She ain't ready to be potty-trained, though. I picked Imani up and got her away from that smoke and took her upstairs.

By the time I got Imani all cleaned up, she was falling to sleep. I put her down on the bed and went real quiet to the top of the stairs. I know Miss Odetta. She was going to have something to say about Mitch, telling Mama all about how she know him from somewhere. Saying June Bug sold him reefer and he got a thing for black women. Saying June Bug sold him crack and he had a thing for black men.

But she wasn't talking about him. She was telling Mama about some white man she had dated.

Mama say, Get out of here, Odetta. You ain't even went out with nobody from no damn Rolling Stones.

Miss Odetta say, Yes, I did. I ain't never wanted to brag on it. To be dropping names or nothing. It was when they played out at Rich Stadium a few years ago. They was staying at the hotel, and I did too go out with one of them. I ain't saying which one it was, because he really wasn't nothing but a freak. You know how them white boys be. Wanting to do unnatural things. Stick they dick up your ass. I had to tell him, Damn, you got the right key, baby, but you working on the wrong keyhole.

Mama say, Mitch ain't nothing like that. See now, that's why I ain't even bother bringing Mitch around here until now. I know ya'll wasn't going to like him.

Miss Odetta say, I don't know who all of this ya'll is. But if you like him, I love him.

Well, you the only one loving him then, Mama say. Because you ain't going to hear me say I love him. Fuck being in love. I done been in love. And where in the hell did love get me? Mitch got money, and he spend it on me. Shit, I'm taking money from any man who's fool enough to give it to me. Spend it on me.

Miss Odetta say, Ain't nothing wrong with love. I'm in love.

Mama say, With some other woman husband? That's just some rent-to-own shit. You renting him and his wife own him. I ain't doing that again.

Miss Odetta ain't say nothing for a while. I heard her pop open another can of beer. Then she say, It's just as well you ain't in love with him. You know white men be after just one thing.