Lilly

by Madelyn Bennett Edwards

  "I haven't heard from Rodney since he survived the fall of Saigon and was at an army base in Kansas." I spoke softly as though I were afraid to talk about him. "We wrote to each other when he was in Vietnam, then a little when he got back. I think I'm the one who quit. No use."

  "He came home on leave. He looked good, but he's changed." Marianne told me that Rodney seemed sad and preoccupied. She said he wouldn't talk about anything that happened in Vietnam but he said, "It wasn't good. None of it was good."

  Marianne said Rodney talked about staying in the army after his time was up. He said it would be a good life now that the war was over. She told me that he was done with Annette and he'd met a woman in the army, also a lawyer, whom he was seeing. Marianne said, "She's colored. His parents approve."

  "Oh." I wanted to be happy for Rodney. You want those you love to be happy, don't you? I was trying, but it was so hard to picture him with someone else. Marianne and I were quiet for a while.

  "You want to tell me about Lilly?" Marianne whispered. I turned to check on Lilly and she was still sound asleep.

  "What's there to tell? Her parents are my friends. Her mom is sick."

  "You think I don't see the resemblance?"

  "Mari, please don't go there."

  "Susie. Others will see it, too. I can't believe you never told me."

  "Look. I just met her, less than a year ago, after…"

  "Mama will see it right away," Marianne said.

  "Do you think she'll say anything? She is Lilly Franklin, daughter of Joe and Emalene Franklin. That's the whole story."

  "Does he know?" She ignored what I said.

  "Who?"

  "Susie. It's me, Mari. Come on."

  "No. And I don't want him to know. Please. Can you respect that? She's not our child. She's Lilly Frank…"

  "I know, daughter of Joe and Emalene Franklin…" Her voice had a quirk in it. I wanted to explain why I didn't want Rodney to know about Lilly, but I wasn't sure of the reasons myself.

  "He's my cousin you know. Family."

  "What am I? Minced meat?" We laughed but were both thinking that we were sisters, and that's closer than cousins. "Really, Mari, there's nothing to tell. Lilly Franklin!" Then we got serious again.

  "Emalene is a very special person who believes her child will be more secure and develop a strong sense of self if she is loved by lots of people. She says the more people who love your child, the better your child's life will be and the more likely she is to be and do anything she sets her mind to."

  "Wow. I never thought about it that way." Marianne seemed truly enchanted by Emalene's philosophy.

  "I know. That's what I mean. Emalene Franklin is special." I explained how I'd become a part of Emalene and Joe's family. "I was so lonely after Rodney… well, uhm… after it was over. Emma and Joe took me in and helped fill that void."

  "Why didn't you tell Rodney about Lilly?" Marianne was still not convinced, and I couldn't explain that Lilly's life was better without the drama and complexities of the forbidden love between me and Rodney.

  "Nothing to tell. She belongs to Emalene and Joe." We were quiet for a while, then I said, "Rodney chose his family's safety over me. And rightly so!"

  "Things have changed a lot around here, Susie."

  "How so?"

  "To start with, Sheriff Desiré changed all the rules. There's no separate seating for coloreds and whites. That means we all sit together at the movies, restaurants, buses, trains, everywhere. The bank has one line and both colors stand in it together! The sheriff insists that school integration laws are followed so black and white kids go to school together. Of course, lots of families send their kids to St. Alphonse's Catholic School. I know of Baptists who send their kids to the Catholic school just to keep them from us dirty black people." Marianne laughed and slapped the steering wheel.

  "Black people?"

  "Oh, yes. It's the new term we are supposed to call ourselves. It's taking me some time getting used to it, but it came about with the Black Panthers movement. We are supposed to refer to ourselves as African Americans, not Negroes." Marianne laughed at her own statement but I didn't know whether to laugh with her.

  "You don't say? How do you feel about that?"

  "The new rules or the new titles?"

  "All of the above."

  "It's all good. We're making progress. A few months ago, a black man right here in Toussaint Parish was found innocent by an all-white jury. Now that's progress."

  "I'll say. Next thing you'll tell me is that there are mixed-race marriages."

  "Not yet. That might never happen in Jean Ville."

  We pulled up in the Quarters and I sat in the car and took it all in. The sugar cane was blowing in the wind, the pecan trees budding and full of soon-to-be nuts, the old red barn had been repaired and painted, Catfish's garden was overgrown with weeds and the little fence was falling in. All the cabins were still in their places and about a dozen children were running and playing in the dusty backyard.

  The five little cabins were once slave cabins on Shadowland plantation owned by the Vans, all in a row, their back porches almost touching each other, facing a dirt yard with a fire pit in the center and cane fields beyond that. There were three new cabins facing the old ones, the dusty yard and fire pit between the two rows.

  I came of age in the old falling-down barn set a few hundred feet in the backyard, and in the cane fields and pecan groves that stretched as far as you could see. Those fields were a special place for me, Mari, and Rod to take long walks, talk about personal things, and feel shielded from the cruel world that judged relationships like ours so harshly. It was there that ours became the closest of friendships.

  "Not much has changed here, has it?"

  "Not much, except for the additional cabins built for my married cousins." Marianne winked at me and got out the car. I reached behind me and touched Lilly's leg. She was stirring and I knew she'd be waking soon. I didn't want her to wake up in the car alone so I sat and watched her, turned around in my seat as far as I could. Marianne was busy getting our bags out of the back of the car and I could hear the screeches and chatter of the kids. A rubber ball hit the windshield and I jumped.

  "Hey, don't hit my car with your balls!" Marianne started chasing a little boy about five years old and he was giggling as he ran away from her. She grabbed him and turned him upside down, dangling him by his legs. He squealed with laughter and happiness.

  Lilly sat up in the back seat of the car, grinned like a Cheshire cat, and reached for the door handle. She was ready to join the fun.

  I took her by the hand and led her through the pecan trees to the barn, showing her around the yard littered with cockleburs that looked like Spartan balls. She was mesmerized by the hundreds of pecans on the ground and I found an old bucket in the barn to gather some of the nuts. We walked through the grove, Lilly swinging a bucket, the pecans crunching under our feet.

  Within minutes, a parade of curious kids was following us and helping to fill the bucket with nuts off the ground. I knew most of Marianne's nieces and nephews and began introducing everyone to Lilly. Lilly let go of my hand and wandered away from me with the children. They were all laughing and some were showing her how to distinguish pecans that were ripe enough to be picked.

  I lost complete control and watched the kids gather nuts, play ring-around-the-rosie, and weave in and out of the sheets and towels hanging on the clothesline, laughing and shouting at each other. My fear of Lilly feeling uneasy in a strange place was dispelled as she ran through the dirt and followed the other children in the yard, passing the bucket around, nuts falling from it into the thick St. Augustine grass.

  I climbed the three little steps onto Catfish's porch. His rocker was in the same place, and the green Naugahyde chair with the torn seat was still next to it. I sat in the rocker and watched the children just like I had when I visited Catfish through the years. Marianne came out and sat next to
me.

  "Do you have a phone?" I was watching the kids run and giggle.

  "Yep. In the kitchen."

  "I'd like to call Joe and tell him we got here safe and sound. Do you mind?"

  "You gonna call Josh, too?"

  "I'll pay for the calls."

  "Don't worry about it. Go ahead."

  I called the hospital and asked for Emalene's room. Joe answered the phone. I told him we'd made it, that we were in Jean Ville, and that Lilly had already made a bunch of friends and was having a ball. He didn't seem interested in what I was saying. He handed the phone to Josh who happened to be in the room checking on Emma.

  "Hi. You okay?" He seemed chipper but I could tell there was something wrong.

  "What is it, Josh? How's Emma?"

  "She can tell you when the two of you talk." I could hear him breathing into the phone.

  "How are you, Josh?"

  "I miss you." He whispered and sighed. I could picture him rubbing his forehead with his thumb and forefinger as though trying to spread out the frown lines.

  "I'll be home in a few days."

  "Have you seen your dad, yet?"

  "No. I'll go there soon. It's only a few blocks away and Marianne will watch Lilly. She's running and playing with Marianne's cousins, having a ball."

  "That's good. Keep her busy so she doesn't get homesick."

  "I'll try."

  "Susie…"

  "Huh?"

  "I… well… bye."

  "Kiss Emma for me. Goodbye, Josh."

  I sat in Catfish's rocker on the porch and Marianne sat in the straight-backed chair. We didn't talk for a long time, just watched the kids. I was lost in the memories of the first time Rodney kissed me in that old barn and the last time we met there when he was skittish because the Klan had threatened his family again. We should have known a mixed-race relationship wouldn't work in a small town in the Deep South. It wasn't just the Klan that kept us apart. My dad was determined it would never happen. I guess he won, after all.

  "I probably need to go see my dad."

  "You want to use my car? I'll stay here with Lilly."

  "No, I'll walk. I used to do it all the time." We both giggled when we remembered all the times I would sneak off to the Quarters to visit Catfish and Marianne and, hopefully, meet up with Rodney. I remembered how invincible I felt, until my dad found out and beat me within an inch of my life. Still, Rodney and I continued to try to make it work.

  We must have been crazy.

  *

  I walked up South Jefferson Street towards the big antebellum house on the corner of Marshall Road and stopped in front of a ranch-style house—the Burton family home where I had lived until I was about ten or eleven. The low-slung roof had been replaced, and the white siding was painted blue, but the big ditch and the dogwood trees were still there.

  A horn scared me out of my thoughts and I turned to see my childhood friend, Callie leaning out the window of a new Cutlass Supreme.

  "Hi, stranger. When'd you get to town?" Callie grew up across the street from me and we'd been like sisters in elementary school. We'd walked to and from school together every day and spent lots of nights at each other's houses. I hadn't seen her since I went off to college, eight years before.

  "Callie! Hi. You look great! What have you been up to?" I looked in the back seat and saw a baby strapped in an infant carrier. "Is this your baby?"

  "Yep, John and I have two of these little monsters. Where you going?"

  "To my parents' house. I just flew in from New York."

  "Hop in and I'll take you the rest of the way." We talked nonstop for the three-block drive and sat in my parents' driveway for fifteen minutes catching up. Callie didn't ask why I was walking up South Jefferson or where I was staying while I was in Jean Ville. I guess she took it for granted I would stay at my parents' house and that I was taking a walk around the block.

  "Will you come to dinner while you're here?"

  "I need to see about my dad before I make any plans. Can I call you?"

  "Sure. Here's my phone number. We live a few blocks towards town in the old Tucker home."

  "I'll call you." We hugged and I got out of the car and waved until she was out of sight. I think I was trying to postpone my entrance into my former home. I walked to the back of the house, intending to go in through the back door. Two of my brothers were playing basketball near the carport and Will ran up to me. We hugged, then I pulled away.

  "How's Dad?"

  "Not good. I'm glad you're here."

  "What's wrong with him, Will?" I was only a year older than Will and we'd been very close growing up. My older brother, James, had been a tyrant and had also tried to kill Rodney in Jackson a couple of years before. He was lingering near the basketball goal as though he didn't know what to say to me. I approached him, and before he could say anything, I hugged him. He hugged me back and when he pulled away there was moisture in his eyes. "You worried about Daddy, James?"

  "I guess. He looks bad."

  "Do you two want to come with me to see him?"

  "Sure," Will said, and he took my hand and practically pulled me up the back steps. James followed close behind. When we walked into the kitchen, Robby, who was number four, about three years younger than Will, was getting something out of the fridge. He was surprised to see me and hugged me extra tight. "You're so tall, Rob. What happened?"

  "I grew. I'm almost twenty-one, you know."

  "Where's Sissy?""

  "She's in Dad's room," Robby said. "Come on. He'll be glad to see you. He's asked about you a hundred times."

  I watched my three brothers walk with confidence into my parents’ bedroom while I held back, feeling scared and insecure. Will grabbed my hand and pulled me.

  I barely recognized Daddy. His skin was grayish-yellow and his hair white. My once big-chested, broad-shouldered dad looked like he'd lost fifty pounds, yet under the sheets I could see his stomach protruding a foot in the air.

  He hadn't shaved in a few days and the uneven growth on his face was white and made his nose look huge. His eyes were closed. Sissy was sitting on the far side of the room next to Daddy's bed and when she saw me she jumped up and ran into my arms. We hugged and I noticed that she was taller, although not as tall as me. When had she grown up? She took my hand and drew me towards Daddy's bed.

  "Daddy, guess who's here?" She spoke in a voice just above a whisper. "It's Susie." Daddy opened his eyes a slit and looked at me. His hand, thick and hairy, came out from under the covers and he reached for me. I was afraid to take it; afraid he'd jerk me towards him and hit me, so I stiffened my arm and held back.

  "Come closer, Susie." His voice was a hoarse whisper. "Let me look at my beautiful daughter." I took a step towards the bed but didn't loosen my elbow. His grip was weak and when I realized I was probably stronger than he was, I relaxed and moved closer. He patted the mattress near his hip and I sat on one side of my butt, the other hanging off the edge of the bed. "You're still beautiful."

  "Hi Daddy. How are you?"

  "Better now that you're here." He attempted a smile but it looked more like a smirk.

  "I wanted to see you." I didn't know what to say and I wasn't making sense. I sat there for a while and he held onto my hand while I kept my arm stiff and tried not to fall off the bed. I noticed bruises on the top of his hand and his forearm. There was also a big bruise, like a hickey, on his neck. He closed his eyes and seemed to drift off so I got up and moved towards Sissy and the boys.

  "What's the doctor say?" I looked from James to Robby to Will to Sissy. "And where's Mama?"

  "Dr. Switzer comes twice a day. The doctors in New Orleans said it's cirrhosis."

  "Liver disease? How advanced?"

  "It's pretty bad."

  "Can it be cured?"

  "They feel as though he's had it for years. The question is whether there is permanent damage to his liver. They say we have to wait
and see if his liver will repair itself or continue to deteriorate."

  "He's getting a shot every week and takes medication that can help repair the liver, but he's really sick." James was standing in front of me and it was the first time I'd ever seen him show any emotion.

  "And he's confused and sometimes slurs his speech," Sissy said.

  "Mama?" I looked at my siblings with a big question across my forehead.

  "Mama took Albert and went to visit Aunt Betty. She said she couldn't take it." Albert was the baby of the family, born when I was in college. He was ten and I wondered what Mama was doing about Albert going to school.

  "Mama left Daddy and went to Houston?"

  "Yep. That's why we need you here." Sissy looked from me to James and back to me.

  "Wait. I'm not staying. I can't stay. I have a job, responsibilities. I just came to see Daddy in case…"

  "In case he's going to die? And you don't want to feel guilty if that happens?" James stormed out of the room. I followed him and cornered him in the kitchen.

  "What do you care? He beat you, too."

  "That's in the past. He needs us now. Can't you forgive and forget?" James walked out the back door and left in his old Chevy pickup truck. I went down the hall to the front door and sat on the porch swing. After a few minutes, Sissy and Will came out and sat in the rockers. We didn't talk for a few minutes but I couldn't stop thinking that Mama left Daddy, sick in bed, and went to Houston.

  "I'm not staying. I can't. Sorry." I sat with one leg across the swing, the other dangling over the side, and pushed myself slowly back and forth.

  "How long can you stay?" Sissy was staring at Dr. Switzer's house across the street.

  "My plane returns to New York Monday. I can't just walk out on my job. And I'm helping a family out right now. The mother is sick and I'm keeping their daughter." I didn't mention that Lilly was with me in Jean Ville.

  "I think Mama is depending on you staying here with Daddy until he gets well. You're the oldest daughter."