* * *
Life without Daddy was empty. That’s about the only word I can think of. The mornings, the afternoons, and especially the nights. Missus Foster tried, and she was real nice. She’d take me places and buy me clothes and books. I even started school, and afterwards, she’d always have something nice fixed for me.
After a while, the hurt stopped being with me all the time. Just when I closed my eyes or when I saw another kid my age with his father. Then the knot would start somewhere in my chest, and I’d have to turn away quickly. Big boys don’t cry. I had to keep telling myself that. Big boys don’t cry. After all, I was eleven and a half now almost twelve. I don’t really remember much about the months that had gone by since Daddy…died. They just kinda passed. But in the back of my mind I knew I was lucky. At least I was far away from Ma.
It was raining real hard. I don’t know why, but things, and not good things, always seemed to happen to me when it rained. Anyway, I was up in my room doing my homework when I heard Missus Foster running up the stairs. That was strange, Missus Foster wasn’t a running kind of person. But this time she was running. “Clive!”
I didn’t like the tone of her voice. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “C’min.”
Her light brown eyes were clouded over. I couldn’t see my reflection in them, only pools of doubt and worry. “Someone’s downstairs to see you. I could say anything, she said softly, almost so softly that I couldn’t hear. “It’s your mother.”
I felt sick. I mean really sick. Like I wanted to jump out the window or crawl under the bed or run so fast that she couldn’t find me ever.
“She said that she has a letter from child welfare. She wants to take you back.”
“She’s a fuckin’ liar!”
It just came out, I never cussed in front of Missus Foster, but I didn’t care. “I won’t go! I won’t!”
Missus Foster started crying really hard. Almost as hard as she had when Daddy died. “Honey, I don’t want you to go, but she’s your mother. There’s nothing I can do.” Ma must’ve known I wouldn’t come, ’cause she had two policeman with her, big, ugly, colored men with mutt dog faces.
Before I knew it, they’d grabbed me. “Okay, ya little runaway. You going back with yo mama.”
“I hate her. I hate her!!!!”
“Shut up.” Ma slapped me. I wanted to slap her back, and kick her and scratch her, but I didn’t ’cause I knew Daddy would never do that.
She stood over me with her hands on her bony hips. “What’s wrong you think ya, to good for yo mama? Now you living in this fine house ‘n’ all…”
Ma spit out the words angrily, like she hated Missus Foster for being pretty and nice and living in a better place than she could ever dream about. She whirled around, her words firing out at Missus Foster. “Ya high yellow bitch, wasn’t enuf to take my husband, but you wanted my boy, too!”
Missus Foster was too much of a lady to say what she wanted to so she just slammed the door behind her. And then Ma started throwing my things in a dirty yellow suitcase. The policeman held my arms. I was trying to kick him in the balls, but the other one threw me down on the floor.
“How’s it feel t’be goin home…huh. Ya know ya cin run, but you can’t hide…”
And the bitterness and hate rose in my throat so all I could do was swallow painfully. Just then I thought about Daddy, and I remembered what he’d told me not to hate nobody, especially not Ma. But I knew at that moment that I could never keep my promise to him, that the feelings I had for her weren’t goin’ away. And if they ate me up inside like Daddy’d said they would, then they just would. Thinking about Daddy made me wanna cry. But I wasn’t going to. I wasn’t gonna cry. Never again. I was never gonna cry again.
* * *
Missus Foster wrote to me, but after a while I just stopped writing back. Didn’t see the point. It just reminded me of Daddy and everything I couldn’t have again.
I found out after I got back home that the only reason Ma wanted me back was ’cause it was the only way she’d get her grubby hands on the money that Daddy and me had been saving for a house. Since the divorce hadn’t gone through when Daddy died, the bank found out about Ma somehow and told her about the money. It was a lot, almost a thousand dollars. I figured out that Missus Foster must not’ve been charging us much if anything for Daddy to be able to save so much. Anyway, Ma wanted that money. Guess she figured he owed it to her for walking out on her.
If I had it my way, she could’ve had the money if she had just let me stay with Missus Foster. All I wanted was a little chance to be happy. But that’s the way Ma was, she’d do anything she could to spoil things for me.
CHAPTER SEVEN
1969
“Oooh girl, Clive is fine…” Giggles, laughs, and lingering footsteps passed by me slowly.
Things had sure changed over the summer. In three months I’d grown five inches. I was 6’2, big ’fro, and all of a sudden the one they all wanted me. I smiled to myself. Shit, what a difference a day makes. I smiled my come get me smile at the curvaceous sister walking up to me. She lowered her eyes, nudged her girlfriend, and gave me that look that let me know it was mine if I wanted it. I felt like I’d died and gone to pig heaven, girls everywhere, all over me. Five inches and a big ’fro. I was a man!
“Yo, man, whas’ up?” my boy asked.
“Nuttin’. Jus hangin.”
“I hear ya. Catch ya later over at Smalls?”
“Na, man, not tonight. I got somethin’ to do.”
My partner gave me a look like he knew I was gonna get some coochie. He slapped me high five and grinned, shouting as he walked off. “Later, man, and ’member if you can’t be good, be good at it.”
I smiled. But I wasn’t about to let up what my real plans were. And it wasn’t with one of the sisters on my jock either. I thought about that as I rolled over on my bed, staring intently at the book in front of me. SAT PREP. I was almost through all the exercises. I’d been studying my ass off for weeks, but I still couldn’t seem to get it. But I was determined if I had to study twenty-four hours a day, I was gettin’ through this, cause I knew college was my only ticket outta this hell hole and away from Ma for good. Somewhere so far away that she’d never find me again.
I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. The five years I’d been back had resembled something outta one of those Dickens’ novels we read in Miss Davenport’s English class. Shit, that woman loved those English writers. Seems like that’s all we read. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she was English. Except, nobody but a sister could have an ass like hers. She was a real fox alright. Had a soft curly ’fro that hung over her shoulders. Large, greenish-brown eyes and smooth skin the color of tea. And all of it wrapped up in the body of life. Yeah, she definitely had it going on.
Then it hit me in between thinking about Miss Davenport’s ass, that’s who I could get to help me with my college stuff. She was pretty cool, even for a teacher. She’d even talked to Ma about me and how I was real smart and should be thinking seriously about college. But Ma had just screwed up her face and snorted, telling her that a job in the factory like her no-good brother Abe had was about all I could hope for. Well, fuck her. I was getting the hell outta Hendersonville and to college somewhere. And Miss Davenport would be the one to help me.
* * *
Miss Davenport had a sweet smell, like flowers, soap, and shampoo. I couldn’t help thinking about that as she leaned over me. “Okay, Clive, let’s go over this one more time.”
Shit, I was trying to concentrate, but all I could think about was how tiny her hands were and how smooth and soft they felt when I brushed against them. I had a thing about hands. You know some guys are into tits or asses. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m into that, too. But even if a sister’s got all that, if her hands are whacked, then it’s later for her. I think it’s probably ’cause Ma’s hands were so fucked, bony, and covered with callouses. I never liked her to touch me, even as a
little kid.
“You mind if we take a break?” I smiled my most seductive smile, the kind that usually made all the girls give it up. But not Miss Davenport, she’d been there before.
“Now, Clive, if you’re serious about doing well on this test, you’re gonna just have to buckle down. Otherwise, I’m just wasting my time, right?” She smiled teasingly. She may have known my game, but what she didn’t know is that I was serious. Serious about getting to college and about getting her.
That’s what I was thinking as I sat in the back of Miss Davenport’s English class. Just thinking about the past few weeks working with her after school. Learning lots of useless words I’d probably never say, ’cause after this damn test I’d forget what they meant.
But I kept on going ’cause every time I did a little better on one of those practice tests, I got a little further away from Ma and a little closer to Miss Davenport. I could tell she had a thing for me. The way she edged real close when we studied. Now don’t get me wrong, she wasn’t real obvious about it. Naw, she was twenty-four years old, a woman. I mean a real woman, not some high-school girl. So I’d just take my time. I wasn’t goin nowhere and neither was she.
“Uh…Clive…”
I turned around quickly, but it was just Verna Smith. Cute, but young. The kind who really wanted it, but her pa had put the fear of God in her that if she gave it up before she got married, she’d go to hell or something. So she just kinda teased you but at the end of the day you knew she wasn’t givin’ nothing up. That’s why we called her a dt, ’cause she’d lead you on, but just when you got ready to go down on her, she’d say no.
“You walkin’ my way?” She smiled and kinda cocked her head in a way that let me know she wanted me to walk with her.
“Guess that depends on where you goin’.” I figured I’d make her beg for it. She took the bait. Bit her bottom lip. She edged closer. I could smell her Afro Sheen, she was so close.
She kinda half opened her mouth, beckoning me. Then looped her arm through mine. “You know I live on the way to your mama’s house.”
I shrugged my shoulder. “Who said I was goin’ to my mama’s house?”
“Oh, Clive, stop foolin ’round and walk me home!” She leaned up against the tree. Her mini skirt hiked up a little. I looked around to see if anybody else more interesting was going my way. But everybody else had gone. So coolly, ’cause I was always cool, I draped my arm over her shoulder. I could feel her thrill at my touch. You ain’t seen nothin’ baby. If I opened up and really let you have it, you’d drop your drawers so fast, you wouldn’t know what hit you. She leaned her head against my shoulder as we walked through the schoolyard.
“Your ’fro looks soooo good, Clive. You plait it to make it grow like that?” This girl really wasn’t too bright. All she ever talked about was hair and usually who had the best lookin’ ’fro.
“Clive, Clive, did you hear what I asked chew?”
“Right, my ’fro. No, I don’t do nothing to it. It just grows fast, that’s all.”
“Your mama don’t plait it for you?”
Was she crazy? She was an even bigger idiot than I thought. Ma touch my hair? I’d cut it off first. “No, Verna, my ma don’t touch my hair. Nobody does.”
She opened up a pack of gum. “Want some? I just love Double Mint, but not as much as Juicy Fruit, jus’ that the store was out and all, so I had to take Double Mint. Don’t that make you mad when the store don’t have what you want?”
I took a stick of gum, chewing it absentmindedly. One thing about being with Verna, it was easy to tune her out and think about more important things. The other thing about Verna was that her conversation never made logical sense. She just jumped from one stupid topic to the next.
“I heard you and your ma don’t get along too good.”
I didn’t answer.
“I heard she sent you away or you ran away or something when you was little, and that’s when your pa died.”
At the mention of Daddy, my whole body chilled over. I dropped my arm from around her. And if looks could kill, Verna would probably be dead now. “Verna, shut up!”
Her mouth dropped slightly. “Uh…I’m sorry, Clive. I just thought that since you and me was you know…getting to know each other, you might want to talk about things with me. “
“I don’t, okay? So just drop it!”
For once she was silent.
That’s why I hated Hendersonville. I could never just live in peace. Somebody always had to go dredging up the past, stirring up the memories. That’s why I was getting out. Away from the wagging tongues and the well-meaning stares. I was getting away to some place where nobody knew jack shit about me, who I was or where I came from and frankly didn’t give a damn neither.
We walked on a little more before she started again. I should’ve just left when she brought up Daddy, but, for some reason, I kept walking with her.
She cleared her throat. “You know what’s the end of the month?”
I looked over at her, bored and still a little pissed. “Your period.”
She hit me playfully. “Clive, no!”
I knew that would set her off. But hey, payback’s a bitch.
“I’m talking about the kickoff for the prom planning committee. The Senior Prom.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, are you going?”
“To what, the planning committee meeting?”
“Nooooo, the Prom!”
The last thing on my mind was the damn prom. I was concentrating on the SATs this weekend, getting into college and away from there. ’Cause for me, Hendersonville was hell. The narrow streets, some of them still dirt roads even now, a hundred years after the Civil War. The town was caught in a kind of time warp, where all the white people were right and always on top, and all of us were in this ditch that we could never get out of. But I was getting out and leaving the rest of them behind. Hendersonville was never anything but pain and bad memories for me, and come next fall, I was going to college and closing the door on Hendersonville forever. So when Verna asked me about the prom, I could say truthfully, “I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“So then you haven’t asked anybody?”
“No, Verna, I haven’t. I hadn’t planned on going, besides it’s not till April.”
“I know but everybody’s making all their plans now. Oh, Clive, you gotta go!” She giggled nervously. The way girls do when they want to say something but aren’t sure how to. She looked at me real hard, and then blurted out, “Would you like to go with me?”
I don’t know why I just didn’t say point blank no then, but for some reason, probably ’cause I was preoccupied. I didn’t. She stopped, turning her foot over nervously in the dirt. “Well?”
I looked her up and down, thinking for a minute. Maybe I’d get some that night. Hell, why not? “Sure, I’ll go with you.”
“Oh, Clive!” Her face broke into a wide smile, and she grabbed me and hugged me tightly.
I guess I should’ve been flattered, but at that exact moment, Miss Davenport passed us by in that cute little red VW bug she drove. She waved at me and kept on going. I wanted to be right there in the seat next to Miss Davenport, not wasting time with Verna Smith.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Miss Davenport
“This looks pretty good, Clive. If you keep up like that on the real thing, you oughta do real well.” Miss Davenport handed me my corrected practice test. I noticed how when she smiled she had the cutest little dimples right at each side of her chin.
I smiled, but I didn’t want to seem too eager. Wasn’t cool. “I guess I did okay.”
She looked at me mischievously, that gentle, teasing, I’m-in-control undercurrent in her voice. “Clive, always the cool one, don’t want to seem too happy, huh?” She walked around the side of the desk, hopped on top lightly, swinging her legs slowly.
I wanted to push her back on the top of the desk and go down on her right there. I didn’t give a damn who came
in. But she just kept talking in that playful way of hers. “Wouldn’t be right for the image. Clive January, the coolest senior around.”
“Can I help it if that’s what people think?” Two could play that game. I may be younger than her, but I wasn’t stupid. I could hang.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“About what?”
“About whether you’re the coolest dude around?”
“I think…” I walked around the desk so that I was standing right in front of her. If I got any closer, I’d probably be on top of her. The smell of her perfume was covering me. But I wasn’t gonna let her think she’d gotten over on me, so I just kept on talking, right up in her face.
Smiling, my best, most award-winning smile. “I think that a lot of women wanna be with me, but I’m choosy. I don’t have to take whatever’s out there.”
She just threw back her head and laughed. I mean really cracked up. I’ve gotta admit, that did kinda throw me for a minute.
“What…what’s so funny? Shit, it’s true!”
She could barely get the words out. “Oh I’m sure it is. It’s just that…” She cracked up some more. “I’m sorry, Clive. You just seem so serious about being cool, that I can’t help laughing.”
I was pissed, but I really didn’t have anything to say. I mean what could I say? I came out with what I thought was the smoothest line, and she was just laughing in my face.
Knock…knock…
Neither of us heard Verna Smith pushing open the classroom door. She walked in and just stopped. I guess it must’ve looked a little suspicious with Miss Davenport sitting on the desk lauging and me about two inches in front of her. Verna’s face turned real red. She had that high yellow color with a huge, reddish-brown ’fro and freckles, so you could always tell if she was embarrassed.
A Dead Man Speaks Page 5
