When I got home that one evening, both my arms full of bags of groceries for him to eat, Cliff slapped me so hard I peed … almost shit, so I know it can be true when somebody say they got the … stuffin slapped out of them! I didn’t say nothin, couldn’t, but I didn’t like it and could feel how I didn’t like it all the way down to my toes. I was mad! While I was cookin and cryin (very quietly), he was walkin round with his chest all poked out. I was thinkin, wonderin if this was the kind of life I wanted to live all my life. I knew it wasn’t! I knew this was a real important thing for me. See, almost everything you do sets your life. I wasn’t goin to let Cliff get set in the ways of hittin on me!
After we had eaten dinner, I sat a big pot of water on to boil. He was listenin to the radio, readin the paper as best he could, then he went on to bed with me still messin round in the kitchen. He come to say he was goin and put his hand, that hand that had slapped me, on my behind, rubbin it. That made me madder. I knew he was thinkin we was gonna make some hot passion love that night cause he thought I was feelin sorry and shamed and wanted to make up to him. Wellll, I did want to make up to him, cause he my husband and I love him, but I don’t want to make up to him less I’m sure he know how to love me back! So I took a long time til I knew he had dozed off to sleep.
I took my little bath and put on my best nightgown, such as it was. Then I got that water off the stove. (I had had to keep addin water to it that had boiled away.) Oh, it was hot, hot! Then I went to that bed and held it over his body. I left the blankets on him cause I didn’t want to burn him too hard, just enough to teach him my lesson. I tapped him on his shoulder to wake him up. (Sides I want him to be able to move out from under that burnin water.) He opened his eyes and I waited til they focused on me … good.
I poured that water all over him and got out the way. He got up huffin and puffin and shoutin. I threw that pot on the floor, hard, to get his attention. When I had it, I said, “Clifton, I love you. You is usually sweet and gentle with me. But long as you live, don’t you never put your hand on me to hurt me again less you ready to leave me, cause I ain’t stayin with no man who don’t treat me like I’m his own body just like them marriage vows say!”
His mouth was hangin open and his eyes was poppin out his head. The blanket was steamin where he had left it behind. I took the pot back to the kitchen, got the dry, clean sheets (we only had two sets) and a pad. I stripped the bed, said “Help me.” He jumped to it. We made the bed together (for the first time). He hung the blanket in the bathroom to dry while I went to get my Bible and find the words they say at the weddin. We covered ourselves up with towels and coats and things, then we sat up in bed while I read the weddin ceremony over again, leanin on the “Cherish” and “One body. Treat it as you do your own.” Honey, we stayed in the bed the whole weekend. Lovin, eatin, talkin and all them good things. We slept in each other’s arms. He understood me. He never did hit me again and we were married over fifty years! We loved each other. That’s just the way it was.
My husband was good to me, in all ways, chile. That’s just the way it was. I didn’t want for nothin he could afford. It got to where we both cooked after the water episode. Most times he help me in the kitchen so we could both get to listen to the radio and, later on, look at TV after we got one. He bought me the best he could. Well, I was good to him too! You see?
Anyway, after we was married bout fifteen or sixteen years, we had done saved up to buy us a house. It wasn’t much to anybody but us, but we sure loved our house. It made itself like a member of our family. We had a garden, food and flowers, birds and things. We both had family, but they was kind of stretched out and we liked to keep to ourselves anyway. It seemed our love got along better that way.
Soooooo … all in all, we had a good life. We watched each other change with the years. He sure did watch me change, and it looked like I did the most changing. This world is fixed so women look like they do the most changin gettin old. They got so many ways for women to get ugly sometimes. Why they want old to mean ugly? Anyway, we sure did grow oooold together.
We grew so old he got sick and I lost my Cliff. Lost my Cliff, you all. Oh, I can’t tell you, the hole, the great big, empty body I carried around, without him. My right arm, my right hand, leg and body was gone. Gone. Well, I had had him fifty years. It could have been less, much less. So I had to satisfy myself with that. And since I blive in the Bible and God, I told myself I would see and be with my husband again. Yea, I blive it. And it helped sometime.
But, otherwise, I felt good. We had taken such good care of each other that I felt good. I looked good even for my age. Oh, a few little things always go wrong, wear out, that’s just the way it is. But on the whole, I felt good. I walked plenty, didn’t need to run. Ate good. More raw vegetables and such what they say is good for you, cause I didn’t have the heart to cook much. Maybe a pot of beans or greens and corn bread on a Monday and stretch that out over a week. Maybe bake a chicken on Sunday, stretch that too.
When I got tired of my own fains, I could afford to take myself out to eat. That’s just the way we planned it for both of us. We planned early to be able to do special, good things for ourselves when we got too old to work and was livin out the rest of our lives. It’s terrible to get old and have NO money. Be poor and too old to work. Save me Jesus! So we planned to be able to do some of whatever we wanted. So that’s just naturally the way I do it.
Oh, but my chile, I must tell you, I was so lonely. So lonely sometime I wanted to hurry up and get on way from here and join Cliff. But I wasn’t sure that was gonna happen, so I didn’t rush myself. Sometimes I’d turn to talk to him when I watched TV or came into my house, callin his name, “Cliff? Cliff?” Never no answer anymore. I was low, low and still empty. Hadn’t filled myself up with myself yet. Couldn’t.
I got a friend, Tonya. (She gave herself that name.) She knows lots of older men who live over there where she does, in the senior citizen place. She tried introducing me to some of them men. I did kind of like one, for company. But a week later, before we even had a chance to really talk, he died. That was enough for me. I’m tired of death.
So, life goes on, it surely do. One day I was sittin in a restaurant eating a evening meal and this man came up to my table. I looked at him and thought, “Who is this old man?” til I remembered I was old too. He said, “Good evenin, mam.” And I thought, “Mam?” See, I’m old, but that young girl that once was me is still runnin round, livin, in my head, won’t leave. Sides, I don’t want her to.
I said, “Good evenin” back.
He smiled and said, “I see you in here sometimes when I come here.” (I said to myself, “Ain’t no other way to do it.” But I smiled.) He said, “You are always by yourself. I’m always lookin out for you, but you don’t come too regular.” I smiled, but I really wanted to eat my food while it was hot. He went on talkin. “My name is Collin. I promised myself the next time you came in, if you was still alone, I was going to ask you could I join you at your table and treat you to your dinner.”
I just looked in his face cause I didn’t know what to say. This was like romance and I wasn’t in practice with a stranger. He pointed to a chair and smiled. “Can I sit here with you if I behave myself?” I smiled and nodded yes. As Collin sat down, he said, “I’m a perfectionist and that’s why I like you. You look like perfection.” I felt a little uncomfortable, but I smiled. I guess I wasn’t listenin either. I didn’t let him pay for my meal, and he didn’t put up much fight about it. We parted friendly like.
Over the next couple of months I went there to eat a couple of times. He was usually there and I got used to eatin and talkin with him. We went for short walks as he said we should after we ate. I knew that, I did that, walked every day after I ate. But what the hecks, let him go on and live. I never did invite him to my home though. I don’t know why, just didn’t.
I kinda thought I was lucky finding and meetin a older man who was single, without the help of my friend Tonya. She al
ways tellin me bout how much they socialize, sex and all. She always talkin bout sex. Welllll, I reckon it ain’t over til it’s over! She always lookin for somebody, a man. She tell me bout some of the men who love her but can’t get … ready. Or she engaged one day and next week he dead, or gone on to some other older woman’s apartment. Or bout the retired preacher who done tasted all the ladies and got nerve to have three or four women. All such stuff as that goin on. Now, I wasn’t thinkin bout no sex, I don’t think. I had done had the best and I am more interested in Quality than Quantity. And the one time I had let her lead me into one of them old men, I told you, he died. But here I was minding my own business and here come a man out the blue lookin for me! Life won’t leave you alone, chile, til you’re dead.
Wellll, Collin didn’t have a home of his own. His wife had died and his kids were livin in it now. He lived in a small co-op apartment. I didn’t see how he could do that. I wouldn’t give up my home. It was still part of my family, you know. But everybody got to do their own thing. Anyway, he commence to coming over to my house and I cook dinners and we sit around watchin TV and talkin. I liked that. My loneliness wasn’t so hard to bear no more. The man could be sweet and make me feel so comfortable.
I don’t know how to tell you. I thought I had already been through the change and had my good sense in place, but we got married because I thought we could make these last few years good for each other. Lawdy clawdy! Married! Chile, chile, chile.
Now we had never talked about it before for some reason, but the man, my new husband, Collin, had a real big idea of what a man was and what a woman was supposed to be. When he was taking me out to eat the first week or so, he said we was on our honeymoon. After that, he said he wanted more home cookin, so I smiled and, on Sunday, baked a chicken and made other little one day things. Monday I cooked beans and rice with corn bread and served some of that chicken. Tuesday we had the same, a little salad and all. Wednesday, the same, a little Jell-O dessert and all, you know. Thursday, the same. I smiled and served it and washed the dishes all by myself cause he was on HIS honeymoon, you know. The next Sunday I baked a roast beef with little one day things: baked potato, salad, green beans or something like that. Everything was goin long alright, I thought.
He had a few things that worried me, but I know what married life means, so I didn’t worry too hard. Like, if I ironed his shirt, he would tell me to do certain parts of it over. “I like my things ironed perfectly smooth,” he would say. Even when I made the bed, when he got into it later, he would say, “This sheet is wrinkled, Melly. I like my sheets perfectly smooth.” Well, okay. He like me to run his bathwater. Well, that ain’t too much work, so I did it. But when he said, too many times, “This water too hot! I like the tempture perfect at the body tempture.” I began to think one of us was crazy and I didn’t want it to be me.
Anyway, soon after, I cooked a good meal on Sunday and we had the same thing on Monday. We had roast beef and greens and corn bread with a few additions for change, you know? He mentioned the way I baked my roast could be better, but I let that slide cause I didn’t give a hot damn. I been eatin my roasts all my life. I’m satisfied.
Then, after I washed dishes, I handed him a dish towel, cause I was kinda tired from doin all this for two people and he said, “I don’t want to dry no dishes.” I looked at him handin me the towel back, and said, “Well, sweetheart.” (Cause he really was. Old as he was, when the lights went out, he was more than I needed. But it seemed like it was a job well done, stead of real love given back and forth like I was used to with Cliff.) I said, “Well, sweetheart, you can wash them if you rather do that.”
He said, “I’m a man. I ain’t sposed to be doin no kitchen work. This is woman’s work!”
I said, as I still held the towel out to him, “You don’t have no job that is ‘man’s work’ to do. So what are you gonna do for your part?”
He said, “I done already worked all my life. I’m through. It’s time for me to rest and read, poke around and sleep, watch TV, go for walks and things like that.”
I said, with a smile so it wouldn’t look like I was mad cause we was still on our honeymoon but the moon was goin down, chile, “You didn’t spend all your years workin for me. So now, you need to try to help me make a home for you. We sposed to work this here stuff together.”
He smiled. “Your husband, your FIRST husband, spoiled you! He loved you more than you loved him. He didn’t make you take the responsibility of bein a whole woman!”
I said, smile gone now, “Me and my FIRST husband loved each other. Wasn’t no lovin more or lovin less. We just loved. And he was so much man he didn’t need pieces of me to make up for what he lacked.” I was talkin bout my home, my stove, my bed, my refrigerator, my washin machine, my yard and everything else Collin didn’t have.
He turned to go, sayin, “Well, things are diffrent now. You my wife. I’m the man of this house. He don’t live here no more.”
I said to God, “Stop me! Stop me! Don’t let me put this fryin pan up side this man’s head. I might kill him cause he old, and I accidently smash one of them blood vessels that done wrapped itself too tight round his brain. Help me, God!”
In a flash my life passed before my eyes and at the end I saw myself with him and I saw myself alone … again. I thought of bein alone again and I was glad! I said to him, “No, no, YOU don’t live here no more. I’m sick of all your perfection mess. You go on back to that perfect apartment of yours and do your own perfect cookin, perfect cleanin, perfect washin and perfect ironin. Cause I didn’t take care of myself, with my husband’s help, all these years, restin up to take care of you!” Chile, the marriage wasn’t even three weeks’ old! We was still on our honeymoon! But the moon was going down fast!
He tried to talk to me, his voice done changed and he was treatin Ms. Woman like maybe she was important after all! But it didn’t matter no more, no how. I was busy packin his perfect clothes in his imperfect bags.
He said, “My apartment is gone, Melly, you know that. And I don’t see why we can’t take care this better than that. This ain’t nothin but a little family tiff. We’re sure grown enough to settle our marriage without breakin it up. People will say …”
Still packin his stuff, I said, “I’m no perfectionist! I don’t care what people say. You got a place you gave to your son. It’s still your house. You worked all your life for that one. I worked for this one.” Then I sat his bags by the front door, said, “Come get the rest of your things tomorrow. I’ll have em ready.”
He left, still talkin bout what we could do, should do. But it had already taken me seventy years (almost) to know that, and I was doin what I knew I should do. Yes, mam. I watched him walk away, leanin sideways with that suitcase and his perfection behind, and I can tell you right now, what he did, makin love, when the lights go down low, didn’t even make me have second thoughts. My lights is turned up way more than they are turned down low!
My life had been peaceful, safe, quiet and restful. I had done invited trouble in and I had done put trouble out. Life sure ain’t borin no matter how old you are!
That night I was layin up in my bed looking at my TV and eatin some good candy out of a box I have, when Tonya called to see “How the newlyweds were doin.” I told her what all had happened and that Collin was gone, I had done put him out.
She said, “Melly! Are you crazy? I know that man. That’s a good man! You betta hold on to him, girl! And you told me he can still make love? Good!? And you gonna let him go!? Are you a fool, Melly!?”
Before I hung up the phone, I told her, “Listen, Tooonya! I don’t need no fool to be tellin me that I am a fool! You ain’t even asked me why I put him out. I know when I’m happy and when I’m not. And ain’t nothin hangin off a man gonna decide my life for me. I done had aplenty of that from Cliff. And it was better than good! And ain’t no woman, old as you are and still flappin her legs and can’t get enough of nothin gonna tell me I’m a fool bout how I run my life! Now,
let me let you go talk to your man fore he dies or fore you die! Good-by, Toooonya!” And I hung up the phone and went back to lookin at TV and eatin out of my box of candy.
I got my divorce as soon as I could. I was at the age where I could die any minute and there were people in my family I wanted to leave my things to. Now! My sister got children and grandchildren that are my nieces and nephews and I got some favorites of my own!
The lady at the divorce desk looked at me so strange because I am almost seventy years old. She ask me, “Are you sure, at your age, you want to do this?”
I answered her, “It’s because I am my age that I want to do this. Every minute counts. Young woman, if I don’t know what I’m doin now, you at your age can not tell me cause you don’t know what you’re doin yet. If you did, I blive you’d be sitting in some college somewhere instead of at this desk depending on somebody for your pay. When I was your age, we couldn’t … didn’t have the same opportunities you got now. You need to fix your life early so you don’t have to stay with nobody you don’t want. Now … where do I sign?”
Then … I went home to my house that is my family, ate me some string beans and roast turkey and dressing with candied yams. I’m gonna stretch it all week … cause I feel like it. Tomorrow I may take myself out to that new restaurant I read about … cause I am able. All my life I been with somebody, and that was good. Now I am alone, but that ain’t the end of the world. That can be good too! I can do whatever I want to … within reason. May take one of them senior citizen boat trips and honeymoon with my own soul. There is all different kinds of love in this world. May go get one of my grandnieces or nephews. They’re my family too. May do anything! That’s the way I was plannin it. You know what I mean? That’s just the way it is.
Some Love, Some Pain, Sometime Page 10
