by Han Nolan
I tried finding excuses not to shop with her, like sayin' I wanted to go look at books or something I knew she didn't like. She'd let me go off, and I'd just wander round tryin' on lipstick and perfume samples and callin' up Mama Linda on the pay phones and never getting nothin' but lots of ringing and ringing. But one time at the mall I heard singin'. There were a whole group of people singin' gospel music, and I told Mama Shell I had to go listen. "You go on and shop," I said, "and I'll meet you at the food court."
I didn't wait for her to agree with what I said, 'cause I were just drawn to the singin'. I run off down the mall, following that music.
I found the group in front of the food-court fountain. They was standing spread out in rows up on a couple of stands, and they was singin' and swayin', and all the people was black and dressed up nice—the men and boys in suits and the women and girls in dresses. There was chairs set up in front of them, and didn't look like I had to pay nothin', so I sat down to listen to the music.
They had some good singers up there, real good. Hearing them singin', and seeing the small audience holding up their arms and swayin' and sayin' amen made me want to go up on that stage and sing, too. I wanted to show them how good I sung. The feeling were so strong in me it made my throat hurt, like a song got twisted and stuck halfway up my windpipe. I never got to sing no real gospel at my school, and Mama Shell and Daddy Mitch didn't go to no church. I bad wanted to get up there and sing. Hearing them singin' felt like I was back with Doris and Harmon, sittin' in church. If I closed my eyes I could pretend I were with them again. And maybe it were 'cause I been thinking 'bout Doris and Harmon that I noticed one dude, standin' the third row back, who had eyes just like Harmon's. They was big and round with way-long eyelashes, and they had that same too-sweet look in them the way Harmon's did. He were a big old thing, though, tall and heavyset in his body, with wide shoulders. He'd grown out of his suit, too. I saw that when he come forward and played the trumpet His shirt cuffs showed too much, and his shoulders looked like they gonna bust through the top of the sleeves any second. He didn't look comfortable. His face were all sweaty, too, but his playin' sounded good. I couldn't keep my eyes off him, and I noticed he kept snatching looks at me. The second time he played the trumpet, when he got done and were about to go back to his place in the rows, the music leader held out his hand like he introducing the trumpet player and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, Harmon James."
I jumped up out of my chair, forgetting where I were, and shouted out, "Harmon!" Other people stood up, too, and clapped, but I pointed at him and shouted his name again. "Harmon!" I weren't thinkin' right In the middle of their show, I pushed out of my row of chairs and ran onto the platform and grabbed my Harmon. I guess people thought I be crazy, 'cause they pulled me off him, but I shouted, "It's me, Harmon. It's Leshaya."
Harmon backed away. He was lookin' at me hard but shakin' his head no, like he didn't know me. Then I remembered. He didn't know Leshaya.
"I mean, it's Janie," I said. "Harmon, it's Janie from the stink house! Remember? Patsy and Pete? Harmon, it's me." The whole time I were saying this, the gospel singers was holding me back, away from my Harmon. I could feel tears on my face, and I kept sayin', "Harmon, it's Janie. It's Janie."
It seemed like forever before he finally said "Janie?" like he understood. Then, at last, at last, we was huggin' each other and crying with each other, and Harmon wanted to know where I been, but the music leader said Harmon had a show to finish. Me and Harmon said we sorry, and I got down off the platform. The people in the chairs clapped, and I noticed a big crowd had filled in so that all the chairs was taken and more people was standing in bunches behind them.
I didn't want to sing no more after that. I just wanted to talk to Harmon, and they was words caught in my throat instead of song. I thought the singin' never would end, but it did, and me and Harmon got back with each other. I were crying and hugging him, and he were doing it, too, to me, and in between all that, I told him where I been and what happened, and he told me how good his life be with his mama and daddy and how he got a baby brother now.
Strangest thing besides seeing him all big and chunky were his talkin'. He didn't talk like me no more; he talked smooth like his parents. He talked like he readin' out of a book. He told me he sung with his church and played the trumpet in a high school band, and hearing him, my aching in my throat come back and I were longing for a wad of bread.
"Listen to you, Harmon. You sound all—all different. You so happy and smilin'. Ain't never seen nobody as smilin' as you before."
"I'm doing really well," he said, nodding his head too much. He kept on nodding while looking me over, and he said, "You look so different. You look older than I do now. I can't believe it, Janie."
"It Leshaya now. I named myself after Doris's girl who died. You know her girl died?"
Harmon bowed his head like he prayin'. "Sure," he said. He looked back up at me, and his eyes shone happy and sweet even though he sounded sorry. "Doris moved a couple of months after her daughter died. Moved way out to Wisconsin. I had a different caseworker the rest of that year, and then I didn't need one anymore because Mama and Daddy adopted me."
We kept talkin' long as we could, and we traded addresses and phone numbers, and I warned him how we might be movin' 'cause Mama Shell always talkin' 'bout it. I told him 'bout my singin' and how music were still the best thing in the world to me. "Still ain't nothin' better than singin' my heart out," I said, and Harmon nodded too much again, like he were thinking so many thoughts, he forgot he were doin' it.
I told him about Mama Shell and Daddy Mitch and about school, but I left out everything about how sassy-assed I acted, 'cause I could tell Harmon were real fine and wouldn't approve of the way I been acting. That left me with a sadness 'cause we always been close, and not telling about all of myself put a space between us that weren't there before. Couldn't help it, though. I wanted him to be proud of me, so I stood straight with my feet together and my hands behind my back, and 'cause his voice were soft and quiet, I made mine that way, too.
Then the music leader come by and said we had five minutes before they had to start for the buses in the parking lot. I grabbed Harmon, and he hugged me and said, "I love you, Leshaya. I love you even more than the ladies."
I cried all over his shrunken suit, and he said good-bye and I said good-bye and I told him how I loved him, too, even more than the ladies. But when I watched him walk away from me, I knew I were lying. I still loved Harmon, but I loved the ladies most.
Chapter Twelve
I DIDN'T SEE MAMA SHELL sneakin' up on me. I were still waving at Harmon's back when she come along and near sent me up through the skylight she scared me so. "Who's that you're waving at?" she said. "He someone from school? Are you meeting boys at the mall? Is that why you've been slipping off every time we go shopping?"
"No, ma'am. No, it ain't. I promise."
Mama Shell smacked my head. "You don't promise. You're lying. I saw you with him. I saw you practically climbing all over him in front of everyone. Now, come on."
Mama Shell dragged on my arm through the mall and through the parking lot, and even though I could have fought her off and run, I didn't, but I didn't say nothin' 'bout finding Harmon, neither. She were so paranoid already, I knew she would think Harmon gonna go tell the police 'bout her stealing me. She didn't say nothin' while we was driving home, but when we got inside the house she smacked me 'bout the head awhile and told me I better keep away from those bad boys and I better make sure they keep their hands to themselves. I let her hit on me a bit, 'cause it didn't hurt and she needed something to do to get out her anger. Then she told me to get out of her sight, so I run off to my room. I grabbed up my Doris doll and my headphones and turned on my tape of Etta James and let her singin' cut through the layers of me. I let her music cut down to my soul. I took a deep breath and let it out, and everything felt all right again.
After a while of listening to Etta and then Billie Holiday
and Odetta, I felt safe enough inside to think 'bout my meeting with Harmon. He were so different but the same, too, when I thought 'bout it. He grown up big, but so did I. His voice were all polished off, like he a teacher. That made me feel funny, like we didn't come from the same place no more. He were the one taught me to speak, and then he went on and changed his voice on me. And his voice were so soft and kinda high-pitched. I couldn't imagine a voice like his ever yelling at nothin'. I could see how good and fine a boy he'd grown to be, too, and bein' with him, I felt like who I been weren't good enough.
The ladies never done that to me. They never changed on me. They just sang. I knew they gave me the most important thing in my life. They gave me their voices and their songs. Weren't nothin' better in the world than that. If I could sing all the time, if I could be like the ladies and sing for my living, sing for all my life, well, wouldn't matter if I didn't turn out so good as Harmon. Nothin' else in the world would matter if I could sing and people would listen. Ain't nothin' else in the world like singin'.
Chapter Thirteen
I ALWAYS FIGURED I would live with Mama Shell and Daddy Mitch till I were all grown up, but when I been still just twelve years old, my time with them come to a end, and I didn't never see them again.
I guess the beginning of that story happened when Daddy Mitch moved his business into our house. He and Mama Shell carried boxes and bags of stuff down to the basement one afternoon, and when I asked what be goin' on, Mama Shell looked up at me with her firecracker eyes and said Daddy Mitch were moving home and we was gonna see a lot more of him from now on.
Daddy Mitch said, "Don't you come snoopin' round down here, though. Hear what I'm sayin'?"
"Yeah, Daddy Mitch, I hear, but what's all that you carrying down them steps?"
"None of your business. You keep out, and things will be real happy round here."
"Yes, sir," I said.
I don't know 'bout happy, but they was busy. People was always stopping by to see Daddy Mitch. They wasn't always the best-looking people, neither. Some fancy dudes dressed in suits would come and strut on through the house like they owned it, but much more come all ragged out, like they bums off the street. If Daddy Mitch be out when they come, then they all shaky and nervous, pacing round back of the house and checkin' the road to see if Daddy Mitch be comin'.
Daddy Mitch told me a long time ago he were a salesman, and when I asked what he sell, he said, "Life." He cackled at that, like he said something funny, but that kind of laugh scared me, so I stayed off the subject. I were little when I asked, but now I were twelve, almost thirteen, and I had a pretty good idea what he were sellin'. But it weren't till one day when school let out early 'cause of a cafeteria fire, and I took a taxi home, that I found out for sure. I got home when I weren't supposed to, paying the taxi driver with my emergency money Mama Shell been givin' me for when she don't come pick me up, and who did I see beggin' and clawin' at Daddy Mitch out in our yard but Mama Linda.
I ducked to the side of the house and listened to Mama Linda whining to Daddy Mitch, saying she should be able to pick up stuff whenever she wanted.
Daddy Mitch laughed and said, "Baby, it don't work that way. It's bad enough I got to give out your junk for free. I ain't givin' out extra just 'cause you run out early. I've told you that before."
"Free!" Mama Linda screeched. "You got Janie. I gave you my Janie. I didn't get nothing for free. I got to live the rest of my life without my Janie."
"Don't you try that on me," Daddy Mitch said. "I ain't buyin' it You traded her off for heroin. You sold your own child for heroin."
Mama Linda were crying and I could hear them moving off away toward the back of the house. I slid along the other side, trying to keep hearing what they sayin'.
I missed something, 'cause when I got to hearin' them again, Daddy Mitch were yelling at Mama Linda. He said, "You want her? Take her! Go on and take her back. We don't need her. Go on! I'm tired of you. You take your girl, and get on outta here."
Then Mama Linda said that she didn't mean what she said and that he weren't so tired of her last month, and her voice changed to being all sweet and sexy, no more yelling, but Daddy Mitch didn't take none of it.
He said, "I ain't givin' you nothin'. You don't come around here no more. You want Leshaya, take her. You don't, that's your problem. The shop's closed! You get your junk somewhere else from now on."
Daddy Mitch slammed inside the house, and Mama Linda pounded on the door some and when she finally gave up, she said, "You'll be sorry. You're going to be so sorry."
I hadn't seen my mama in over five years, and I only reached her once in all the times I tried callin' her from the mall, and even then, she were too stoned to make much sense. So when I knew she were leavin', I come from round the house and looked at her good. She walked toward me, lookin' straight at me, but she didn't know who I be. She weren't too steady on her feet, didn't seem to me, and she were way skinny so her veins showed on her forehead real sharp, and her eyes looked way big and her head looked big, too. She had her hair tucked up under a baseball cap, and just a couple of greasy strands hung down on the side of her face.
When she were just 'bout to pass me by, I said, "Mama?"
Mama stopped, looked me up and down, and said, "Janie?"
I nodded and Mama Linda looked at me again. Her eyes was more bloodshot than eyes. Didn't know how she could see out of them. "You look just like me when I was your age," she said. "How old are you? Sixteen? Seventeen?"
"Twelve."
"Oh." She looked round herself to see who might be listening, then she said, "Listen, I want you to do me a favor. You know where Mitch keeps his stuff? You know how to get at his stuff?"
Mama Linda were talking fast and low and grippin' my arms too tight. I could feel electric current running through her to me. I could feel it in my arms and it hurt.
"You got to get me some..." I raised my arms, with her hands still hanging on them, and flung them down hard, breaking myself free of her.
Didn't say nothin'. I just walked away.
Chapter Fourteen
I HAD A LOT to think on that day, but weren't nothin' 'bout Mama Linda. I weren't gonna let what she done to me—trading me for drugs—get inside me. I just wrapped myself up in one more rock-hard layer of I-don't-care-'bout-nobody and sat in the living room, waiting for Daddy Mitch. I wanted to know for sure if Daddy Mitch be my real daddy or not. I never did ask before 'cause of how he had such a temper, but this time I had the temper, and I wanted to know 'cause I figured if he wasn't, I gonna run away somewhere.
Daddy Mitch come up and down the basement steps all day, dealing with strung-out addicts hot for their fix. He didn't know that I come home early, and when Mama Shell woke up, she were too groggy to care when I come home.
Daddy Mitch come up from the basement and took himself a break round 'bout five that night, and I were waitin' for him. I come right out and asked him what I wanted to know. I said, "Am I your daughter? Did you and Mama Linda have me?"
"Huh?" Daddy Mitch looked up at me from where he sittin' on the sofa.
I stood in front of him with my arms crossed over my chest, hoping he knew I meant business. I wanted a answer. "Are you my daddy or not?"
"What? You mean your birth daddy? You askin' me if I'm your real father?"
"Yeah. Are you?"
"Girl? Where you get a idea like that? Course I ain't your daddy. Don't you remember how we got you?"
I remembered, but I didn't say nothin'. Weren't nothin' could come outta my throat, anyways. I didn't think I could even breathe. I left without saying one thing and went to my room and put on the ladies and listened all night long and into the morning, and I didn't even think to hatch my running away plan, 'cause I didn't want to think at all. I got up the next morning and still didn't speak, and nobody minded. I went to school and didn't talk there, neither. I didn't talk and I didn't think 'bout nothin'. I just doodled on sheets of paper, spellin' out Leshaya over and over an
d puttin' little stars round my name and stuff like that. At the end of the day weren't nobody waitin' for me to pick me up, so I took a taxi same as usual. This time, though, the taxi couldn't get but halfway down my block 'cause of all the police cars jammin' the way. I got out the car and paid the driver, then walked down the street toward the cars, which mostly looked to be right in front of our house.
When I got up close enough to see what were goin' on, I saw the cops had Mama Shell and Daddy Mitch in handcuffs and they was leading them out to the cars. Behind them come more cops, carrying the bags and boxes of stuff from out the basement.
Neighbors I never seen before come out their houses and watched, so there were a good crowd and I was just one more in the crowd. I backed away and hid behind a tree, and I watched Mama Shell and Daddy Mitch ride off in the cop cars and the neighbors got out into the road and clapped and cheered behind the cars.
After everybody cleared away, I went on to the house. I stuffed what I could of what I owned into my backpack and a laundry bag. Then I searched the house for money and found a shoe box full of it in Daddy Mitch's room. Always were good things comin' in shoe boxes. It looked like Daddy Mitch robbed a bank there be so much money. I took all of it, putting some in my pocket, some in my backpack, and the rest I left in the shoe box I stuffed halfway down the laundry bag.
I called another taxi, and when it come, I told the driver to take me to the bus stop. I thought with the money I had, I could fly anywhere I wanted. 'Cept I couldn't fly to Tuscaloosa, where Harmon lived, and he the only person I knew to run to. Tuscaloosa weren't but a hour away by bus, so I took the bus, then took another taxi to the address Harmon give me at the mall.
