She said, “Leave that ole square date of yours.” She grabbed and tasted my drink, frowned. Said, “This ole dumb punch and square music! You betta come on to the swingin party I’m goin to. We gon meet some real fiiine young men! Hep! Girl, some of them men there will put these here to shame! Come on, girl! Let’s go where a real party is!” Then she looked at my pretty pink formal. I started to smile, caused I liked the way I looked. She frowned a big ugly frown. “Girl! Where you get that ole fashioned rag? Off one of your dolls? Oh, hell! I don’t know if I want to be seen with you! Dressed like that!” All of a sudden my heart hurt and I hated that dress my mama had worried over.
My life has proved I’m very good at being dumb. You know I left with her. Left that poor boy Donald to be embarrassed and confused when he couldn’t find me. Honey B made it seem like such fun. A game! You meet people like that … people who want to make you think life is a game. Well, it ain’t! Life is real real.
Anyway, I left. A friend of hers sat outside waiting for us. I didn’t even have sense enough to wonder how she knew I’d come. I didn’t wonder bout nothin! Like … Honey B. Why did Honey B need me to come with her? She knew where all the hep people and places were and she had the invitation to the “best” party where all the fine men were! Why did she need me to leave that prom in that pretty dress, with my beau who was a nice, decent beau? Well … she couldn’t have done it without me bein a fool.
Anyway, the party was at a nice house. Music all bluesy, jazzy and slow. Real drinks flowin. There were no gardenia corsages, but perfume filled the room from the sexy-dressed women. Everybody was older than us. And I looked like a nut with ruffles in that pink organdy prom gown.
I tried to sit and be quiet and not think of what my mama would say when I got home without Donald. But Honey B kept bringin me drinks, strong drinks, which I drank out of nervousness til I wasn’t nervous anymore. There was this man who had come by bout three times to ask for a dance, but I didn’t want to stand up and stand out in that dress of mine. But finally my liquor said “yes.”
We danced. Oh, chile, he danced different from what all my younger boyfriends had. He moved slow and very close. He held me different, somehow. When I tilted my head back to focus my eyes and see him in that dark room, he looked deep into my eyes, different. He talked real softly in my ear. Had a deep sexy voice. Even his laugh was sexy. He squeezed me even tighter every once in a while. Chile, the man had a natural-born sexy way! I don’t have to lie to you! I didn’t even really know what sexy was, but I was learnin. He smelled good. His shoulder was smooth with some good material, and it was a strong shoulder, and warm. I remember the song we danced to. “There Will Never Be Another You.” It became our song. To me.
When the music stopped, he didn’t let go. Just held me. I know I looked stupid, rolling my eyes wonderin what next to do. I started to be embarrassed, but wasn’t nobody payin no attention to us. So my liquor said “just relax” and I did. After bout three dances he led me to the bar and got me another drink. Then we had another dance, then another drink, then another dance.
By that time I was almost out of my birdbrain mind counta all that attention he was givin me. He was good-lookin and the other ladies kept passin by sayin “Hi there” with beautiful smiles, far as I could see em. And them were older, grown women more his style.
Now … I know you know this man. You may not know him good as I do, but you have met him. I know it. Him and his type are good at things like this.
Out of the clear, blue sky I started to feelin sick. I was shamed and I know I looked like a crazy chile. I wanted him to go away, so I could be sick all by myself, but he wouldn’t. He was takin me toward the bathroom when I threw up, chile, all over me and him, even tho he tried to jump out the way!
Oh Lord! I could have died! Just died! Everybody kinda laughed like somethin stunk! He was upset, but he kept his cool. He led me out of there, wipin his clothes and holdin on to me with one hand leading me out. I didn’t see Honey B nowhere. I was so sick and confused, well drunk. I let him lead me out. I wanted to go home. I told him where I lived.
I didn’t pay any attention to where we were drivin cause I had my head out the window most of the time and my eyes closed, layin back when my stomach let me. When I did look up, he was parking in front of his apartment. He told me not to worry, that I needed to get cleaned up before I went home lookin a mess. I went in, cause I already told you I was good at being a fool. I was too young for all this and didn’t know it.
The man had me take my clothes off! Made me! In the nicest way. Ain’t no man had ever seen me with no clothes on in my life! He not only took my clothes off. He bathed me! Bathed me and took all that vomit off. Then he carried me to his bed and took my virginity off, too. I was still a little drunk, but I was soberin up fast. When he was through, he got me up, put me back in my damp clothes and took me home and left me on the sidewalk. He drove off without even seeing if I got in the house right.
Now, I’m goin to tell you the truth. I was smilin cause I thought everything had been so romantic! A grown man! Liked me! Loved me, even! I had been bathed … and … and … loved. I was a loved woman. Wasn’t no star in the sky as bright as that comet flyin through my head that night!
When I hit those steps though, I was so glad my mama was sleep when I went in! Because I looked like I had been in a tornado right after I came out the great flood and a big earthquake. It was early, early morning. Sky was gettin light!
You know I should have hated him. Maybe you also know I didn’t. I just thought about him, a lot, and blushed, every time. I waited, real romantic like, for him to call me, to check on me, to like me, to want to see me again. But he didn’t. I even went and bought that song, “There Will Never Be Another You,” and played it over and over.
So … after two weeks, I went to find him. Oh Lord, I wish something had fallen on me, like good sense, and stopped me.
I asked Honey B. I knew his first name was Webb. (Wasn’t that romantic?) Her friend knew who had been dancing with me, so I got his number. I called him. My heart overflowin with love and anticipation or somethin just as dangerous.
That man, Webb, answered and spoke just as nice to me as he would to a stranger. Not excited and glad to hear from me, just casually said he was pleased I called him. I told him I thought he might have been tryin to reach me and I wanted to give him my number. He hesitated a minute then said, “Fine.” I waited for him to ask to see me again. He didn’t. I was too ashamed to ask him so after a few minutes we hung up. I stood staring at the phone, not understanding a damn thing. I wondered what I had done wrong.
My conscience whipped me for bout three days, then I whipped it right back. I called him again. Chile, I called him every day for two weeks! Sometimes he was busy, sometimes he was out, sometimes he talked a minute or two. He still didn’t ask me out.
Finally, my wits, which were always at their end round bout that time, made me ask him to take me somewhere. I got up the nerve to ask him that one time, but he laughed as he said, “I’m pretty busy right now, maybe sometime.” That didn’t even hurt me bad enough to make me stop askin. It didn’t take as much time to get up the nerve the second time cause I was in too deep. I don’t know if he planned it that way, but he couldn’t have planned it better, if he did!
I asked him so many times, he finally agreed to go out. We did. It was just sposed to be for a picture show and hamburgers. But we went to his place after … for you know what. I hadn’t planned to do that again, but I never said a word, just did it. And I liked it again. And I loved him.
My schoolwork began to suffer. Got bad is what it did! Started missin tests and classes. I had always liked to have fun, but I still did good in school cause my mom and dad wanted me to. They helped me and depended on me to do the only thing I had to do; get good grades in school to work for my future. I really had wanted to be something special when I grew up. But now, I thought I had found my future already. I knew what I was goin to do with my
life. Give it to Webb. Let him take care of me. Give him babies. Raise em in our own little house we would have someday. I sure was good at being a fool.
By time another month had passed I loved that man so hard, I couldn’t see straight! The touch of his skin thrilled me. The shape of his head was the handsomest thing in the world to me. He looked at me and when his eyes were on me, little thrills just shot all through me. Even my nose got wet! When he talked to me, I always seem to say dumb things. Nervous! Chile, I lived that man. But he was always so hard to reach, so hard to get. I had to BEG him to see me sometime.
I got me a douche bag. Hid it. Stole perfume, sexy, older underclothes. Hid em. Lay awake half the night, many nights, dreamin of Webb and holdin my body where I wanted him to hold it. Dreamin, dreamin all the time. Didn’t hear nothin nobody said to me. Went through all the motions goin to school, comin home, goin to the store, anything. I was mostly miserable, but didn’t just quite know it. I thought it was loooove.
That man was so cool. He never did grab me or hold me and say he loved me. But I told him I loved him all the time. Every chance I got! So I told myself he loved me … and made up a hundred reasons he would try not to let me know he loved me. Well, that ain’t the way you do it. But I was a fool. And good at it.
Do you know! … I started hangin round outside that man’s house to see who he had with him when he told me he was busy!? I got what I came for. When I saw him with those other women, I like to have lost my mind!
Once I saw him go in his place with another woman and I threw rocks at his window til he came out cursing. He had a robe on, and nothin underneath! I went walkin home cryin. I was gettin good at that.
Another time, when he went with somebody, I rang the bell, long and steady, til he answered and snatched me in, cussin and tellin me how I was makin the OTHER woman nervous! Me! I was sposed to be his woman! I was just sixteen then.
Once I took a knife and cut up his car tires. That was a long hard job. Them tires was hard! The next time, I scratched up all his fenders and doors. He might be inside screwin some woman, but I was outside screwin up his car and you know I knew he loved his car.
Webb invited me over the next day after that car scratchin business. I walked in his door and he slapped me so hard I heard bells through my eyes and saw things with my ears! But I didn’t care. You hear me? I didn’t care bout him beatin up on my body! My only body! Just wanted him to do somethin to me! Anything! I even, still, wanted to make love. He smiled a funny, strange kind of smile, then he made love to me. Then he put me out. I walked home all wet, blue, smellin and smilin. And head still hurtin from that slap.
Oh, I wanted that man to love me like I loved him. I wouldn’t, couldn’t, believe he didn’t love me.
One of the times he did call me and want to see me, which made my body feel like a whole concert playin inside my head as I ran to him, was also a terrible time. Cause when he drove me home, my mama was waiting behind the door. When we pulled up, she ran out and asked him who he was.
He took a deep, bored breath. Said, “Ask your daughter, baby.” To my mama!
She was angry. “I’m askin you!”
He smiled, “Nobody. I’m nobody.”
She snapped, “You a old nobody to be messin with my child!” He was about thirty-eight years old.
He kept smilin. “I belive you got more than a ‘child’ here.”
She leaned toward him. “I am sure you know! But I bet you betta leave her alone!”
He stopped smilin, said, “Lady, if you can just get her to leave ME alone, I’d be glad!”
My neck snapped when I turned so fast to look at him. My heart broke. My head bent down.
My mama looked at me. “This man ain’t got shit for you! Do you hear him? He don’t want you! He don’t mean nothin but trouble for you! You fool!” Oh, and all such things like that, that hurt, stung, tore, ripped my heart. And all my little dreams.
My dad, who had walked over to my mother, said to my bowed head, “If a man cares for you, he respects you, wants everybody else to respect you.”
Well, I just didn’t pay him no mind. My body was remembering all the good feelins that Webb had given it. I didn’t really hear either one of my mama nor dad til … one of them said, “If that man loved you, he would want to marry you! He would come in here and meet us and treat you like a lady. He wouldn’t have you runnin out in them streets after him like a dog! Makin you run after him! He would marry you! I bet you haven’t heard from him! He knows YOU’re gonna call him!”
The words stuck in some crack in my brain. “Marry you … marry you … marry you!” Well, that was the answer! I wanted that man. I looooved Webb. I just KNEW he loved me back. He had to understand that.
But he didn’t understand that. He mostly hung up on me when I called him. I took money from my mama’s purse, stole, to buy him presents so I could get a chance to talk to him. That helped, cause he liked presents.
I would say, “Hi!”
He would say, “Oh, Jesus.”
I would say, “I’m … I’m out by your house. I was gonna stop by.”
He would say, “Tilla (that’s my name), I’m busy right now. I’m gonna be busy a week or two. I’ll call you when I have time.”
Then I would say, “I’ve got a present for you. I wanted to give it to you … today.”
Then he would say, “Well … okay. Come by … but only for a minute. I really have a lot of things to do.”
I mostly always got us ended up in bed. Makin love. At least I was.
Then I would have to take some more money, get another present, so he would say, “Well … okay,” and let me in again.
Finally, I did what I wanted to do. Tried so hard to do. I was still sixteen years old. I got pregnant by Webb. Mmmh, mmmh, mmmh! Chile, chile. Lord, I pity little foolish women with hearts.
My mama liked to died. Not only because I was remindin her of her pain in raisin me, but because she knew what my pain was gonna be. My dad liked to died. He thought he should try to fight Webb or somethin, but he really didn’t know what to do. Mama talked to him, he quieted down. Webb liked to died! He said he couldn’t make babies.
My mama turned out to be my only ally. She took Webb’s telephone number from me, called him, told him I was a minor and she would have him arrested! He said he would come by.
He got there.
They sat. They talked.
He tried to lie.
They talked some more.
He lied.
They threatened.
They asked me. I told the truth. It was his baby. There had never been anyone else. There never would be anyone else.
They threatened some more.
We got engaged and married, all in one day.
I felt my dreams had come true. I had my man! I had my Webb. I thought I had been good at what I did. What I was was good and mistaken.
Webb wanted me to stay home with my mama and be married to him for the baby’s sake. Lord, that man didn’t want me.
But Mama made me go. Said, “You wanted it, you got it. No matter what I told you, you forgot about me and chose him. Now you go with him til you get enough! I’ll be here if you need me, but don’t come here to stay til you are good and through with him! You are a fool. That Donald boy, in your age class, wants to make somethin of himself. He liked you, but you treated him like a fool. Now, you gonna find yourself in somethin like deep shit.” She broke down and cried then.
I cried, “Oh, Mama.” Held her and cried. But in the back of my mind and heart was the joy I was feelin, knowing I was gonna be with Webb all the days of my life. I wanted a long, long life.
Mama wasn’t through though, said, “You gonna wake up one day and find out that you can’t let your behind do your thinkin! You better think with your head … and let your behind stick to sittin til you find somebody it can sit RIGHT with!” She wiped a tear from her face and some from mine. “You bout to have a baby, child. One day, sooner than you think, it’s
gonna be your turn. You gonna learn what I mean.”
Chile … I took my foolish hot behind and ran happily to my miserable future with that man I loved … Webb. If I could have just seen into the future I would have saved a lot of tears from runnin down my face. And, oh, the pain I could have saved! But I didn’t. I was good at doing the wrong things. I still thought, I KNEW, I could MAKE him love me!
But … I didn’t. Couldn’t. And I tried for a long, long time.
Let me tell you what he put me through. No! What I put myself through. Cause he never promised me life. Nor nothin.
Maybe I deserved what I got, cause I asked for it. Maybe not as bad as it was … but … I did stay … I did ask for it. From the beginnin when he NEVER said he loved me. When he was searchin for his own life. Wasn’t his fault he was handsome … spoke well … acted loving, and made good love. He didn’t mean to be punished for that. Hell, he hadn’t done nothin but be hisself! But he was, in a way, a liar. He was lyin when he was lovin. He knew what women wanted. What they would think. He led them to that. And he helped them to think and feel what he would never say, so he would be blameless. He made them think he thought what they wanted him to think. So he was, naturally, loved by them women. A liar at love.
Marriage was sposed to be different. Before we married, we use to separate at daybreak … me, sneakin into my house. I thought I could hold him all day if I was married to him, was able. But I thought wrong. Cause after we married he wasn’t ever hardly home at daybreak … or he was just comin in.
(CRAZY!) I was gone out of my mind! He took my brain and turned it, twisted, stepped on it. Stumped on my heart, my thoughts. He could make me feel more like a fool, a slave, a dog, than anything in this world. Whatever I said was dumb, whatever I did was wrong, whatever I thought was unnecessary.
Tell me, are you crazy when you try to hold on to the one you love? When they don’t want you? Yet? You don’t have to tell me now.
One time we talked. One time … when he wasn’t “too tired, too sleepy, too sick, too busy,” again.
Some Love, Some Pain, Sometime Page 12
