by Pearl Cleage
"Mattie says she's ready to take the baby back home now."
"Back home?"
"Your custody is only temporary, Joyce. You know we talked about this."
"I filed the papers for permanent custody. They told me there wouldn't be a problem with it. She's thriving here and you know it."
"But she ain't your kid, is she?" Mattie said, real nasty. Joyce looked at her and then back to Janice. "Have you been to her house?"
Janice nodded. "It doesn't matter."
"Doesn't matter?"
"They weren't denied custody. They were never even accused of being unfit. They chose to give up custody temporarily. They can change their minds anytime they want to."
Mattie smirked at Joyce. "See? You shouldn't believe all that bad shit you heard about me, 'scuse my French. I'm turning my life around."
"She's a crack-head," Joyce said as calm as if she'd just said good morning. "Her brother is a violent, woman-hating hoodlum, and neither one of them has even bothered to come and see Imani since we brought her home. They don't even know her name."
"You a lie," Mattie said. "I'm a call her Frankie. After my baby brother. What you think about that?"
"Jan, you can't be serious," Joyce said.
Janice nodded and pulled out some papers, handed them across the table to Joyce, who looked at them and back at her friend.
"Listen, Joyce, they dropped this one on me this morning. It's wrong. Somebody must have pulled strings to have the order issued that fast. I have to transfer her this afternoon, but we can file papers today and get a hearing first thing next week so she can be returned to"
Mattie poked Janice in the arm like they were girls on a school yard.
"Hey," she said. "You 'spose to be on my side."
"I'm on Imani's side."
"Her name Frankie."
Joyce looked at Mattie. "Why the hell are you doing this?"
"You didn't want trouble, you shouldn't have put the cops on my brother!" Mattie said.
"Is that what this is about?"
"Naw, this ain't what this is about," Mattie said. "This is about you takin' my sister's kid and not tellin' me about the money."
"What money?" Janice and Joyce spoke at the same time.
Mattie looked sly. "Don't she get money for keepin' the kid?"
"All foster parents get money, but"
"Well, if anybody's 'spose to be gettin' paid off her, it should be me."
"You're her family," Janice said wearily. "You might not even be eligible for"
"She say we will be 'cause we got hardship."
"She who?" Joyce said.
Mattie turned her attention back to her nails. "That ain't none of your business, is it? All you gotta do is pack up that baby's shit and let me get on up outta here. This ain't no soap opera, so we ain't gotta drag it out all day. Let's go!"
"Now?" Joyce looked at Janice, who nodded and waved helplessly at the official papers.
"I know we can get a hearing if we"
Joyce no longer had time for Janice, who seemed to have no solutions and no suggestions.
"Look, Mattie," Joyce said. "You can have the money. I don't want it. I'll send you the check every month and you don't even have to keep the baby at all."
Mattie laughed. "That's just what she said you would say."
"Who are you talking about?"
"Miz Anderson, who you think? She said it was her Christian duty to help me get what's coming to me."
I sat down. Damn! Gerry again? What was she trying to do now?
"She said you all not fit to be raisin' no baby." She looked at me. "It ain't healthy with what you got. So she gonna pay me double what they payin' you to be sure Frankie get brought up someplace where she ain't gonna get sick like her dumb-ass mama."
Joyce looked at Janice like you see what I mean? Janice looked away.
"Don't take this personal, Jan," Joyce said quietly, "but before I'll let you carry Imani out of here, I'll blow both your brains out."
Mattie jumped up. "I ain't scared of you!"
"You should be."
"Joyce, wait!" Janice was pleading, hands extended in front of her like Joyce had already aimed a .357 Magnum in her direction. "This isn't the way to do it! If you don't give her to me, they'll send the sheriff with me tomorrow."
"Then that's what they're going to have to do," Joyce said.
"They'll still take her."
"They'll have to find her first," Joyce said, cool as shit.
"I'm outta here," Mattie said, heading for the door.
I opened it for her and she rolled her eyes at me as she stomped down the back steps in her platform sandals.
Janice put her hands on Joyce's shoulders. "Listen to me, girl! You're going to get custody as sure as I'm standing here, but if you run with her, you'll be a kidnapper with no rights and you'll never get her back."
Joyce turned away and I could see the tears on her face.
"Not today, okay?" She turned to Janice. "Let me get her things together and . . . tomorrow you can take her."
Janice hesitated.
"Please, Jan."
"Okay. No tricks though, Joyce, all right?"
"Did you know Gerry Anderson had a hand in this?"
Janice shook her head. "No, but I should have. It's not like Mattie had a sudden surge of maternal feelings." She glanced at Mattie waiting in the car. "I'd better go on".
Joyce didn't move. She seemed lost in her own thoughts Janice squeezed her hand once and headed for the door.
"Jan?"
Janice hesitated.
"Thanks."
"No problem."
I watched them pull out and turned back to Joyce, who was gone. I knew where she was, sitting in the rocking chair holding Imani, smiling and cooing like things had never been better.
"Joyce?" I said, and when she looked up at me, I knew we were at war. "Tell me what you need for me to do."
2O
I called Eddie and the three of us sat up half the night trying to figure things out. Joyce talked to her lawyer, who reminded her that the kind of temporary custody that she had brought with it almost no rights when it comes to any conflict with the family. The fact that Gerry was, in effect, bribing Mattie to take the baby had no legal effect on things at all.
Joyce wanted to demand hearings, interview witnesses, prove what she knew about Mattie and what her house was like, all of which was fine and could be done, but it was going to take time. The lawyer agreed with Janice that a hearing would almost certainly result in Imani's return, but none could be scheduled before Monday, which would mean Imani would be spending the weekend at Mattie's.
At first Joyce refused to consider it. She had seen inside Mattie's house and we all knew what Frank was like, but the alternative seemed more than risky. How far could Joyce get on the run with a two-month-old baby, even with me and Eddie aiding and abetting every step of the way? Even worse, Janice was right. There was no way Joyce would ever set custody if she kidnapped Imani before the legal process had a chance to kick in.
It was a terrible discussion and even though the three of us sounded all sane and mature, 1 could feel the panic rising as we realized the box we were in, even if it was only temporary.
Around midnight, we had said everything we could think of to say. Imani had been asleep for hours, but Joyce never put her down. Finally, after we just sat there in silence for about five minutes, Joyce said, "I'm going to let them take her for this one weekend, but I'm going to go over there in my car every day and sit outside to make sure nothing happens to her, and on Monday, if they don't give me a hearing and hand me back my baby, I'm going to go over to Mattie's house and get her." She looked at us. "After that, we'll take it one day at a time."
"I'll sit with you," I said.
"And if you need to go inside, just give me the word," Eddie said.
Joyce looked down at Imani in her arms. "Once we get this straight, Gerry Anderson has a lot of explaining to do."
/> I keep trying to tell Joyce every evil thing can't explain itself. In Gerry's case, I think the truth is buried under so much screaming bullshit, she doesn't have a clue herself, but something in us touched off every alarm the woman's got. We thought we were arguing about a youth center, but that ain't even in it. Gerry's fighting for her life.
21
I dreamed tnat me and Eddie made love without any latex. Skin to skin. Inside and out. When I woke up, the dream taste of him was still in my mouth.
September
1
I woke up this morning and the sheets were soaked through. I immediately started rationalizing about it being summertime, hot weather and all, but that's all bullshit. I know exactly what it is: night sweats, it's my first real, live, full-blown, straight-ahead, no-denyin'-it, even-if-you-tryin'-it AIDS symptom.
It scared me so bad to realize and admit it that I felt weak. Faint, even. I would have lain back down, but the damn bed was all damp and clammy because I hadn't changed it yet. Then I wanted to burn the sheets and start popping Nodoz so I could sit up all night instead of going to sleep and risking it happening all over again.
I was thinking all kinds of crazy shit, pacing up and down. I'm surprised Joyce didn't hear me. I think a part of me probably wanted her to hear so she'd come in and give me a plausible explanation for what my body was doing that didn't have anything to do with AIDS. Girl, pleez! It was so hot in this house last night, I got up and changed my own sheets twice!
But that's the problem with knowing. It takes away the possibility of pretending. Which is what I have been busy doing ever since I got here. Pretending that the Sewing Circus can change the world. Pretending we can rescue Imani. Pretending this place is so far away from the scene of the crime that the consequences can't catch me. Pretending I've got time to fall in love.
2
Janice wain t kidding. When she pulled up this afternoon with Mattie, Sheriff Gates pulled in right behind her. He didn't get out of his car, although he did raise a weary hand at us out the window. I guess he was hoping his presence would be enough to keep us under control.
Eddie and me stood on either side of Joyce when she came out with Imani and a small suitcase. Joyce had a list of child-care things she hoped Mattie would take the time to read, but I knew there was no chance of that happening. I was counting on Imani being strong enough now to survive a couple of really fucked-up days even if all they remembered to do was change her every now and then and feed her when she cried. Except that she never cried. Joyce always said she couldn't figure out if Imani was a really, really good baby, or if she was just trying to stay out of the way.
Eddie strapped the infant seat into the car and Joyce buckled Imani in. We had already kissed her about a million times and assured her everything was going to be okay, but Joyce kissed her again and whispered something to her and then she stood up and stepped back from the car. Janice got in behind the wheel and Mattie climbed in beside her and lit a cigarette without even glancing at Imani.
"I'll drop them off and come back for you so we can get the hearing papers filed today," Janice said.
Joyce nodded. She never took her eyes off Imani. I hoped Imani couldn't see the worry in her smile as clearly as I did. Knowing her, she probably did, but from where I was standing, she just looked confused.
We stood there and watched them pull out, Sheriff Gates right behind them. I looked at Joyce and she wiped her eyes and shook her head.
"If anything happens to her"
I interrupted her. "It won't. Come on. Let's get the documents we need for the hearing request so we'll be ready when Janice gets back."
That was what Joyce needed. Something to do. Otherwise she wasn't going to make it through what I knew was going to be a very long weekend.
3
Me and Joyce spent the next two days parked a couple of hundred yards from Mattie's front door. The houses on both sides were boarded-up empty, so we made sure we were on somebody else's property and then we just sat there. We were close enough to hear Imani if she cried, but so far, everything had been cool. Good thing, too. I don't think Joyce could have taken it if she had.
Eddie came up periodically so we could go pee and get something to eat and he took the midnight-to-sunrise shift so we could get some sleep. Frank came and went a lot and there was a regular stream of bug-eyed crack addicts who only slowed down long enough to make sure we weren't cops and then ignored us. There is nothing so single-minded as a crack addict on the way to get high. If we could apply all that energy to something more constructive, we'd be free by now.
Everything had been happening so fast that I hadn't really been alone with Eddie since he proposed, which was fine with me. My brain and my heart were already on overload, but on Sunday afternoon he brought a message to Joyce from her lawyer, who needed to talk about the hearing on Monday. He offered to stay with me and handed Joyce the keys to the truck. She looked at the house, which was quiet, and back at me and Eddie.
"If you hear anything weird"
I stopped her. "Go talk to the lawyer. We got it covered."
"It's already Sunday," Eddie said. "If they haven't acted a fool by now, they probably aren't going to."
"One hour," Joyce said. I think she felt like as long as she was there giving them the hard eye, nothing bad could happen to Imani. "I'll be back in an hour and I'll bring some sandwiches."
"Coffee," I said. She nodded and was gone.
Eddie and I looked at each other. "Want to stretch your legs?" he said.
I hesitated.
"We won't go far."
"Okay."
Walking up the road was probably easier than sitting beside him in the car. He put his arm around my shoulders.
"How are you doing?"
"I been better."
"She'll be okay," he said, glancing back at the house as Mattie opened the front door and looked to see if Joyce's car was still there. When she saw me and Eddie, she turned around and went back inside, slamming the door behind her as loud as she could. A few seconds later, the sound of a bass-heavy rap record poured out of the windows.
"She'll be okay," Eddie said again.
"What's the lesson?" I said.
"You can't know the meaning of the lesson until class is over."
"And when will that be?"
"When Imani is back home with Joyce and you're not scared to look me in the eye anymore."
Of course, he was right. I was looking at the trees, the rocks in the road, the boarded-up house next to Mattie's, the puffs of white clouds floating in that vacationer's-paradise blue sky.
"Two for the price of one?" I said, trying to play it off.
We had made it back to the car. The music was pretty loud, but we would have been able to hear anything out of the ordinary without much trouble. Still, I didn't want to take any chances, so I leaned against the hood. He did, too.
"I've thought a lot about what you asked me," I said.
"Me, too."
"I guess this isn't really the time to talk about it."
"I think it's the best time," he said.
That sort of made me mad. It probably wouldn't have ordinarily, but I was looking for any excuse to get angry so I wouldn't feel so crazy telling him no way could I promise him forever when I might not make it to Christmas. When he said that, so calm and serene and shit, I wanted to scream at him, but I just said, "The best time for who?"
"For us."
"And why is that?" I said, real nasty. "Because you say so?"
He turned toward me and touched my cheek with his fingertips. "Do you love me?"
I nodded, not trusting my voice to retain the required nastiness.
He smiled at me. "And I love you. What you used to be. What you are. What you're going to be."
"I'm sick, Eddie," I said, wanting to feel his name in my mouth even in the middle of all this craziness. "What I'm going to be is sicker."
"I know that," he said. "I can take care of you when
> "I don't want you to nurse me." I heard my voice quivering all over the place.
"Is that what I've been doing?"
"Give it time," I said, and turned away from him. "Give it time."
He put his hands on my shoulders and turned me back around. "I promise to help you do whatever you want to do when the time comes for all that. There is nothing you can show me, nothing you can ask me to do, that will ever make me turn away from you. Nothing."
I leaned into his chest and closed my eyes. "I'm so scared," I said. "Sometimes I just get so scared."
He pulled me closer and his lips brushed against my ear.
"It starts here," he said. "All the strength and all the courage and all the peace we're ever going to need starts right here with me loving you, just like this. And you loving me, just like this."
He kissed the top of my head and I could feel his hair tickling my neck.
"I'm not here to watch you die," he said softly. "I'm here to help you live."
I looked up into his face and it looked like home, and all of a sudden, standing there keeping watch outside of that madhouse, I felt like I almost understood. What was important and what was not. What was worth the time and effort and what was just a bunch of bullshit. And the more I looked at Eddie looking back at me, the more it was starting to make sense. Not all of it, but a little. Just a little, and at this point, that was all I needed.
"You remember those tunnels I told you about?" he said, touching my cheek.
I nodded.
"Well, that's what we're building, too, except they're different from the ones I saw in 'Nam. You know why?"
"Why?" I said, not caring that I felt tears on my face.
"Because," he said, "those were for war. What we're building are tunnels of love."
4
By the time Joyce got back, two more cars had come and gone, and the rap music had gone into overdrive. I wondered if any of the young brothers whose voices demanded such a dizzying range of sexual favors in the most aggressive possible way ever got the desired response from the objects of their lustful affections. I had my doubts. Anybody who can't ask for it any better than that probably won't know what to do with it when you hand it to him.
Eddie and I had agreed to talk more about marriage between the two of us before we said anything to Joyce. I knew I wanted to be with him as long as I could, but I also knew I've never made a decision in a crisis that I didn't live to regret once the moment passed.
