"I'm free tonight," the tall, brown-haired boy said.
"I imagine you're free every night," I told him and his friends laughed, some pounding him on the back. "Very funny," he cried, reddening.
"What happened to George Gibbs?" I asked Corbette. He shrugged.
"He went on and married someone else. Now he's stuck in a marriage and has more diapers to change," he quipped. They were all flashing their smiles.
"At least he has a family," I said sharply, "and a reason to get up in the morning. Why do you?" I shot at him and turned the horse.
I didn't look back. I went into a gallop and despite my teacher's admonitions, jumped a gate to catch up with my class. He bawled me out for it afterward, but I barely heard him. I was so angry, I could hear only a buzz of rage in my ears. The first thing I did when I saw Audrey afterward was tell her she had been right about Corbette.
"Boys," she said with an ugly grimace as if they were some sort of disease that infected girls. "I'm not getting married. I'm going to be a career woman."
Maybe, I thought, she was right.
It was on my mind for the remainder of the day and even during my ride home. Jake kept talking and asking me questions. He could see I was terribly annoyed about something. As we approached the house, I recalled Grandmother Hudson's promise to reach Mama. At least I had something to look forward to, I thought, and hurried out of the car and up the stairs. I burst into the house and looked for
Grandmother Hudson in the living room. She wasn't there. I charged through the dining room into the kitchen where Sissy was working on the evening's dinner.
"Do you know where Mrs. Hudson is, Sissy?"
"Last I saw she was sitting in the office at her desk," she told me and I hurried to her.
Grandmother Hudson had just put down the telephone receiver when I appeared.
"Hi. Did you locate Mama?" I asked, too anxious to spend time on small talk.
"I did, Rain. Sit down," she said finally and nodded at the leather sofa.
Grandmother Hudson's face was more often than not an open book. Her thoughts were usually under glass, easy to read. She had too much selfconfidence to be subtle or indirect. She looked terribly serious at the moment and that put a coat of ice around my heart. It thumped like a small hammer trying to break out. "What's wrong?" I asked after sitting.
"I was hoping to have a longer period of time before having this conversation with you, Rain. Why it was left to me to be the one to have it is just another example of my daughter's lack of responsibility. I can't tell you how many times over the years I have been put in a similar position, but ... what's done is done. Her father kept me from building her
backbone."
"What's wrong?" I demanded more firmly, now the impatient one.
She leaned forward, clasping her hands and resting her forearms on the desk.
"When Megan came to me to ask if you could live here and go to Dogwood, I was naturally reluctant. Even after you first arrived, I thought this was possibly a big mistake. Then, about two weeks afterward, Megan called to tell me she had spoken with your mama and learned more about the situation."
"What situation?"
"Your mama's health. It seems," Grandmother Hudson said leaning back with a deep sigh, "that beyond her good intentions to get you out of that environment and all the danger, she was looking ahead to what she would be able to do and not do for you. She knew how sick she was."
"Sick? What's the matter with her?" I cried.
"She's...suffering from a cancer that has spread rapidly through her body and she's is presently in the hospital. The prognosis is not good. In fact," she said, "the doctor told me she goes in and out of a coma. Your Aunt Sylvia has been staying with a friend near the hospital. That's why you haven't been able to reach anyone on the phone."
My heart shrank and closed like a tiny fist in my chest. Suddenly, the room felt like an oven.
"Does my brother Roy know about all this?"
"Yes. I believe he is on his way to the hospital on special leave," she said.
"I've got to go, too," I said.
"I know you do. I've made all the arrangements for you," she said. "Jake will be taking you to the airport in two hours. When you arrive, there will be a car waiting for you. The driver will hold up a card with your name on it. I have made arrangements for you to stay at a nearby hotel. Here," she said, opening a drawer and taking out an envelope, "is some money for your expenses."
It was all happening so fast, I was too stunned to accept it. I shook my head.
"It can't be true. I can't believe Mama kept all this secret."
"She probably knew you wouldn't have agreed to come here if she told you the truth. She was a brave woman," Grandmother Hudson said.
Was? I thought. Mama...Mama ...
"I've spoken to Mrs. Whitney at the school. You're not to worry about your exams. They'll provide makeups for you if need be."
I gazed at her, truly in awe. She was a woman of action, always in control.
"Take the envelope," she ordered and I did so.
"Thank you," I said.
"I'm sorry that you'll have to make this trip by yourself on top of the shock, but..."
"I'll be all right." I was anxious to get started and get to Mama.
"I know you will, and I want you to know that I expect you to return, Rain. No matter what, I expect you to come back here and fulfill your life."
I nodded and then rose and left the office like a sleepwalker, barely realizing where I was going and what I was doing. I felt that numb.
Grandmother Hudson had told Jake why I was going to the airport. He was caring and concerned and made sure I got to the correct gate. He waited with me until they called for the passengers to board.
"This is never an easy thing to do, Rain," he said. "I didn't get a chance to say good-bye to my mother. I was overseas, but that didn't make the pain any less. You be strong, hear?"
"I will, Jake."
"See you soon," he said and then he hugged me and held me a moment before turning and hurrying away through the terminal. Moments later, I was strapping myself into a seat, feeling like I had been caught up in a whirlwind of disaster.
Just as Grandmother Hudson had promised, there was a limo driver waiting for me at the airport. He told me that he had been assigned to me for as long as I needed him and the car. He wanted to take me to the hotel first, but I insisted on going to the hospital. From the way Grandmother Hudson had described the situation, every moment counted.
"I'll be right here waiting for you," the driver told me when we arrived.
I hurried out and to the information desk. The elderly woman volunteer sent me to the fourth floor. When I stepped out, I immediately saw Roy sitting in a small waiting room, his head down, his elbows on his legs, his hands against his forehead. He was in uniform. I walked up to him slowly. There was no one else in the waiting room. He seemed to sense my presence and lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot from spilled tears. He blinked as though not believing what he saw and then he smiled.
"Rain," he said standing. "Rain." He threw his arms around me and held me.
I had forgotten how good it felt to be held in his strong arms, to lay my head against his chest and feel his hand stroke my hair while he comforted me and promised to always be there to protect me.
"How is she?" I asked stepping back.
He shook his head.
"She's real bad, Rain. She can't even open her eyes anymore. It's like watching a clock tick down. I'm happy you're here," he said, "and I'm sure she will be too. She'll know you're there. You just hold her hand and talk to her like I've been doing and she'll know.
"You look good," he said with a soft smile. "Like you're all grown or something."
"It hasn't been that long, Roy."
"Oh, it's been long for me, Rain."
"You look good, too," I said. He did. He looked more mature, even stronger and firmer.
"How's it been, living wit
h the rich white folks?"
"Not easy, Roy," I said smiling. "Not easy." I looked toward the doorway. "Where's Aunt Sylvia?"
"She's at her friend's house. She was here all morning," he said.
"I want to see Mama right away, Roy."
"I'll take you there," he said. He put his arm around my shoulders. "How'd you get here and all?" he asked. I told him what Grandmother Hudson had arranged. "A limo, too? They are rich, huh?"
"They have money, Roy, but I wouldn't call them rich, not the way I want to be rich," I said.
He didn't understand, but I thought there would be more time later to explain.
No matter what had been told to me, there was no way to anticipate what I would find when I entered the intensive care unit and Roy led me to Mama's bedside. She looked so much smaller and so much thinner. The bones in her face seemed to be rising out of her skin. Her eyes were shut tight. I thought she was already gone and a panic seized my heart.
"Roy."
"She's still with us," he assured me and nodded toward the monitors.
I took Mama's hand in mine and held it tightly, held it as if I was holding her from falling into the grave itself. She didn't stir.
"Mama," I found strength enough to say, "it's me, Rain. I'm here, Mama, with Roy. Don't die, Mama. Please don't die," I pleaded.
The tears that streaked down my face felt like drops of boiling water.
"You'd be proud of me, Mama. I'm doing so well at school and I was in this play. I had the starring role and people think I can be an actress, Mama. Mama..."
Roy put his hand on my shoulder when I lowered my head to catch a breath. My chest was so tight, I could barely get enough air into my lungs. A nurse came over to the bed and looked at Mama. She checked an I.V. line and then glanced quickly at us as if the truth in her eyes would destroy us. I looked up at Roy and he looked down.
"Mama," I chanted as I stroked her hand and then stood to touch her hair and kiss her face. "Why didn't you tell me the truth, Mama? I would have stayed with you."
"That's why she didn't," Roy muttered.
I stood there, my hand-on her hair, gazing down at her quiet face, recalling the sound of her laughter, the way she held me and spoke so hopefully to me, always hopefully, dreaming my dreams, urging me to have more confidence in myself, telling me I was beautiful and special.
"Is she in any pain, Roy?"
"They say no," he replied. He gazed at her. "She doesn't look like she is."
I sat again and buried my face against her shoulder and the bed. Roy stood by me patiently. After a while, he touched my hair.
"Maybe we should go down to' the cafeteria and get something to eat, Rain. What do you say?"
"I'm not hungry, but I'll go with you," I told him. I kissed Mama's cheek and we left the intensive care unit.
I let him buy me some coffee. He got himself a ham and cheese sandwich and we sat alone at a table near the window. There were mostly hospital employees in the cafeteria, all of them chatting away and looking through us or past us as if we were invisible. I supposed the sight of troubled relatives was common enough to them.
"Tell me about what you've been up to," Roy urged. I knew he wanted to keep me talking because while I was talking, I couldn't cry.
I described everyone and what I had been doing in school.
"Horses?" he said with a smile. "You, riding horses?"
"My teacher says I'm good, too."
He laughed.
"Why didn't you call me more often, Roy?" I asked. "Didn't you get my letter?"
"Yeah, but for a while it wasn't easy to make a call and then, when I called and heard how you were so busy and involved, I figured you didn't want to hear from me."
"That was stupid, Roy," I snapped.
He looked sorry so fast I felt bad for getting angry.
"I was waiting for you to call again. I was very worried about you."
"I figured I'd see you soon enough," he said with a deep sigh.
"You knew about this, then? You knew from the start?"
"No, Rain, I didn't. She didn't tell me until you were gone from D.C.," he said, "and she made me promise on her life that I wouldn't tell you. That's the truth, Rain. I swear."
"When I first left," I began, "I was so heartbroken because I thought Mama couldn't have loved me as much as I thought if she could just let me go like that. I was even angry and thought I wouldn't call her, but when I heard her voice, I knew she loved me just as much and what she was doing, she was doing for me, putting me first. No one's ever going to do that for me again, Roy. Not these people, not this side of my blood, no one."
"I will," he promised, his eyes narrowing with determination and assurance. "I always will."
"I know, but you've got your own life to live."
"I want you to be a part of it, Rain. You know that," he said.
I looked down, sipped some coffee, closed my eyes and sat back.
"It all happened so fast, Roy," I said with my eyes still closed. I could see Beni laughing and Mama singing in the kitchen.
"Yeah, seems like it," he said.
"Let's go back upstairs, Roy," I told him.
"You sure you don't want anything to eat?"
"I couldn't hold anything down," I said and he nodded. He gulped some coffee, cleared the table and then we went to the elevator.
"Where are you staying? With Aunt Sylvia?"
"Yeah, and I'm sure you're welcome, too."
"I've got this hotel room already booked," I explained. "Oh yeah," he said.
When the elevator door opened, we saw Aunt Sylvia in the hallway. Her friend was embracing her.
My heart stopped and started. Roy looked at me fearfully.
"Oh children," Aunt Sylvia cried as we approached. "I'm so sorry. She's gone."
"Mama!' I screamed. "No. We were just with her. No!"
I pulled away and charged through the door. They were just putting the sheet over her. I rushed to the bed and pulled it down.
"She can't be dead," I screamed at the nurse.
"I'm sorry, dear," she said.
Roy took my hand and then embraced me as we both gazed at Mama. She didn't look any different from the way she was before. Maybe she wasn't dead.
"Please," I cried. "Are you sure?"
"She's passed on, dear," the nurse said softly. "The doctor was here and pronounced her."
I pressed my face against Roy's chest and he held me tightly. I could feel him sobbing inside, struggling to hold his tears from flowing.
"She waited for you, Rain," he whispered. "She waited for you."
Mama's funeral was simple. We decided she should be buried near the other members of her family. Roy called our-Aunt Alana in Texas to tell her, but she said she was sick herself and didn't have the money to make the trip. She had no idea where Mama's brother Lamar was. She hadn't heard from him for nearly two years. So, aside from Aunt Sylvia and her friends, Roy, myself, some members of Aunt Sylvia's church, there was no one else at the funeral. Roy didn't want to call the prison to tell Ken. He didn't think he would care, and they certainly weren't going to fly him down to the funeral. In the end, I made the call and left the message for him.
Grandmother Hudson sent beautiful flowers. She and I spoke once on the phone, but my mother never called, nor did she send anything. Later, she would tell me that she had asked Grandmother Hudson to send flowers for her as well. I laughed to myself, thinking Grandmother Hudson was right: my mother always relied on her to do the right things, the necessary things.
After the funeral we all returned to Aunt Sylvia's house. Roy was supposed to leave that afternoon and return to his base camp. With everyone comforting us and trying to get us to eat, we didn't have much time alone. Finally, he took me aside and asked me to walk outside with him.
Aunt Sylvia had a small house with a little patch of grass for a backyard. She had a portion of it set aside for a vegetable garden and some chairs with a redwood picnic table. The day was partly
cloudy with a warm breeze. Aunt Sylvia's flowers filled the air with a perfumed aroma. In the distance over the row of houses to our right, we could see a commercial jet begin its climb into the soft white patches of clouds.
"I can't think of her as dead, Roy," I said. "I just can't believe she's gone."
He nodded.
"It takes time to settle in."
He held his hat in his hand, turning it around and around with his thick fingers. Dressed in his uniform, he looked handsome, I thought. He looked heroic, the hero I always imagined him to be.
"Where are they going to send you?" I asked him. "Germany is what I hear, but I can't be absolutely sure yet. You going to finish at that school?"
"Yes," I said.
"I was thinking ...there's just the two of us now. I mean, I never think of Ken as part of us anymore. It was hard to think of him that way even when we were all living in D.C. When you finish at the school, you could...I mean, we could be together again.
"I'd make you happy, Rain, and I'd watch over you," he quickly continued. "We could get married. There's no reason why we can't. We don't have shared blood. I can't give you a big, fancy home, but we'll make out fine. I know other guys in the army who are married, and some with kids, too."
It was tempting, I thought, to leave the world of lies finally, to curl up in Roy's strong arms and be his wife and live like we had no other life before.
"Mama would probably want it," he said and nodded.
"Would she, Roy?" I asked with a small smile.
"I don't know. Yeah," he said. "She would."
I laughed.
"You don't want to go back to living with those rich white folks who don't even want you, who never really wanted you," he argued. "What kind of life is that going to be for you, Rain?"
"I don't know, Roy. I really don't know."
"But you're going back?" he asked angrily.
I took a deep breath.
Who am I? I wondered again and again.
"For a while," I said. "I have some questions that I have to answer."
"Questions? What questions?"
"Questions about myself," I said. "If I ran off with you, Roy, and never answered them, I would always be troubled. Can you understand that?"
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