Have No Shame

by Melissa Foster

  “Eighteen,” I whispered.

  “Eighteen. Pfft.” Maggie drew in a deep breath and blew it out loudly. “Do you love him? I mean really love him? Does he make your stomach quake, even now, after two years? Do you long to see him when you’re apart?”

  I was afraid to answer honestly.

  “Do you?”

  I felt Jake’s eyes on me, and worried that he’d run and tell Jimmy Lee if I told the truth. “I don’t know.”

  “What?” Maggie asked.

  “I don’t know, okay? It’s just…he’s all I know.” I stood up and went to the window, thinking about Jackson’s arms wrapped around me. I hadn’t even kissed him, and yet I still felt a longing to see him that was stronger than I’d felt for Jimmy Lee in a long time. “Sometimes, he does things I don’t like,” I said. Like beatin’ up Albert and makin’ me do things I don’t want to. I let out a relieved sigh. It was out there in the open, someone besides me heard what was rattling around inside my head.

  Jake’s eyes were as wide as a child’s seeing Santa Claus come down the chimney.

  “Please, Jake, don’t say anything. Please?”

  Maggie grabbed his arm. “If you say one word, I will kill you.”

  “Maggie!” I said.

  “Quiet, Pix. This is important. This is your entire life. If you love him and know it here,” she thumped her chest, “then I’ll shut up. But if you don’t, there’s no way you’re gonna marry him, unless it’s over my dead body.”

  “Dramatic, don’t you think?” Jake pulled his arm from her grip.

  “You don’t get it, Jake. Once she’s married, she’s stuck.”

  Was she going to break up me and Jimmy Lee? Was she fixing to try to call off my wedding that was taking place in two months? I twirled the ring on my finger. Fear gripped my heart. My father would be furious.

  “I said, I don’t know,” I interjected. “Maybe I do want to marry him.” I went back to the window, breathing fast and hard, my palms sweating against the wooden sill. The moon shone high in the sky, and my mind sought the image of Jackson, the nubby thickness of his hair, the softness of his eyes. Jackson and I had developed a system. If I were able to meet him right after he was off work, I’d leave my library books on the front porch, and if I had to meet him after supper, I left them on the rocking chair. I had done my reading on the front porch just before dinnertime, and purposely left my book on the rocking chair. Now I wondered how I’d ever get out to see him—and I wanted to more than anything in the world. My only hope of sneaking out was while Maggie was asleep, and I’m not sure she’d ever go to sleep at the rate our conversation was escalating.

  “If you don’t know, that means you aren’t sure,” Maggie said.

  “Don’t push her, Maggie. Just because you like it out there doesn’t mean she will.”

  They both stared at me and I wondered how it was possible that our parents hadn’t come up stairs with all the noise we were making.

  “I’m so tired. Can we just be done already?” I asked.

  Maggie threw her hands up. “Whatever you want, Pixie. I just want you to be happy.”

  “I am happy,” I lied. Jake left our room, leaving me filled with guilt, which burned in my stomach like a bonfire.

  “He’s scared. Daddy will never let him leave.”

  I flopped onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. After the rush of adrenaline that carried our discussion, my body was heavy and tired. I listened to Maggie in the bathroom, brushing her teeth and washing her face. Daddy’s radio silenced, and my mind ran in circles, thinking of my upcoming wedding, which I’d been so carefully ignoring.

  Heavy footsteps ascended the stairs.

  “Goodnight, Maggie.” My father peeked into my room and smiled. “Goodnight, Pix,” he said.

  I listened for Maggie’s response. It saddened me to know Daddy was answered with silence. “Goodnight, Daddy,” I said.

  Maggie came back into the room, closed the door, and climbed into her bed. She lit a candle on the nightstand, then turned off her light. “Don’t let Jake make you stay, either. He’s afraid he’ll be left all alone.” There was an edge to her voice, a warning.

  I looked at her then, her silhouette striking in the flickering light. “I never said I wanted to leave.”

  Maggie squinted in the darkness. “Oh, Pixie, is it too late? Have they ruined you for life?”

  I didn’t understand why Maggie was pushing me away from Jimmy Lee and Forrest Town. Or maybe I did. Maybe what I was just starting to figure out, Maggie had figured out long ago. I was torn between annoyed and curious. “Jake doesn’t care if I’m here or not,” I said.

  “No, he just doesn’t want to seem like he needs you. Everyone needs someone, and we’re all he’s got right now. He hangs out with guys who do nothin’ but get in trouble.”

  “Hey, Jimmy Lee is one of those guys.”

  “Sorry,” she said quietly, then she sat bolt upright in her bed, mischief in her eyes. “Pix, the world is about to change more than you could ever imagine.” She leaned toward me and whispered. “The white people here are assholes, Pix. The schools are not supposed to still be segregated.”

  She spoke so fast I could hardly keep up.

  Two seconds later she was perched atop my bed, sitting cross-legged, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. “Things are happenin’, and they’re gonna happen here, too. There’s this group, the Black Panthers, and they’re just gettin’ together out in California, but my friends say they’re formin’ in New York, too. They’re gonna help the coloreds gain equal rights.”

  “Didn’t Martin Luther King do that?”

  “Look around you,” she said.

  I looked around the bedroom.

  “Not here, out there.” Maggie pointed to the window. “You tell me, did good old Mr. King fix things here in backwoods Arkansas? Can coloreds eat at the diner and go see movies in our theaters?”

  Maggie was scaring me. What she said was true, it was like Mr. King’s words were empty in our town—the white folks still ruled the roost. I assumed they always would.

  Maggie stood up and paced, energized by her own vision. “I’m joinin’ ‘em, Pix. As soon as I get back to New York, I’m gonna help.”

  “You can’t do that. It’ll be dangerous. I hear about race riots on the radio when Daddy listens.” I grabbed her arm. “Please, Maggie. Please don’t do it.”

  She sat back down next to me. “I’m a woman. I’ll be behind the scenes, helpin’ the families and children. Oh, Pixie, I can barely walk by Division Street anymore without feelin’ sick to my stomach. Those poor kids haven’t a clue how they’re bein’ held back.”

  It occurred to me that Maggie wanted to fight for exactly what my heart was aching over. She hadn’t said anything about white folks dating black folks, but if this whole movement went as she hoped, couldn’t that naturally follow? Maybe not, and maybe never in my daddy’s world. “Daddy will never let you do it.” Fear prickled my arms. I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to Maggie.

  “Daddy won’t know.” She stifled my response with her glare. “Don’t you care about what’s goin’ on ‘round here?”

  More than you know. I thought of Jackson standing out by the creek in the pitch black waiting for me, risking his life just to talk to me, and the excitement that chased me as I ran through the fields toward him. “I care. I do care.”

  “Then you won’t tell Daddy.”

  Lying to Daddy was new to me. Before meeting Jackson I’d only lied twice—once two years ago about if Jimmy Lee had ever tried to touch me in ways that weren’t appropriate (I wanted Jimmy Lee to touch me, so I didn’t feel that was really a lie, or inappropriate), and the other time just the other day about where I had been when I missed dinner. I wasn’t about to tell Daddy that I was with Jackson.

  “Okay, but promise me that you won’t do anything dangerous.”

  Maggie nodded fast and furious, then took me in her long, sinewy arms and hugged me tight. She
pulled away and said, “Okay, good. Good.” She hopped over to her bed and dove under the covers.

  I lay in bed waiting for Maggie to fall asleep, and hoping Jackson wouldn’t leave. The hours had passed by so quickly that I was sure he had. But still, I had to try to see him, drawn to him like a thirsty man to a river. The spark of electricity, the pull in my stomach I’d felt when Jackson held me, came rushing back and made me shiver. The right and wrong of being together made it that much more titillating. How I craved to share my secret!

  I wondered if I was missing some clue, an indication that Jackson would one day become just as hurtful as Jimmy Lee. Did all boys eventually evolve into selfish, aggressive men? My father didn’t seem that way, but then again, he treated his farmhands like machines. Wasn’t that just as bad?

  I don’t know how long I laid there, worrying on the thought and craving his touch at the same time, but when I looked over, Maggie was fast asleep.

  I turned to face the wall, still in my skirt and blouse, and fought the urge to see Jackson. I didn’t want to put him in danger.

  Ten minutes later I snuck out the back door and ran through the field, my heart thumping like a jackrabbit. Please be there. Please be there. I slowed as I neared our meeting spot, listening to the soft voices of nature. Inhaling the scent of the creek, my nerves pulled tight as a spool of yarn. Maggie’s words and the hope of freedom for the Johns family flitted through me.

  I flicked on my flashlight. “Jackson?”

  Silence.

  I walked toward the water, illuminating the dark night. “Jackson?” I called again. He was gone. Had he even come and waited for me? Fear shot through me like a bullet. Jimmy Lee. Oh God, no. I turned and ran toward home. If Jimmy Lee got wind of us, he’d kill him. My foot caught on a ditch and my body fell forward, landing on the earth with a thud. My hands and knees stung. I cried out as I pushed myself up. The darkness consumed me. I brushed myself off, praying Jimmy Lee didn’t find out about Jackson.

  My flashlight grew dim. I reached for it just as it went dark. Dead. A sign? I was too frightened to think straight. I had to find Jackson. Please, Lord, please let him be okay.

  “Alison.”

  My heart jumped into my throat. I spun toward his voice. Jackson’s worry-filled eyes stole my breath. He reached for my trembling body and pulled me close, one hand on the back of my head, like Mama used to do when I was a little girl, the other hand on my lower back.

  “Shhh.”

  I shivered from the cold and couldn’t stop the river of tears. The relief in my heart was too big. I opened my mouth to speak, but a coherent string of words didn’t come. I’d already pictured his bloated body mirroring Mr. Bingham’s and couldn’t reconcile the image with the living, breathing man before me.

  My palms pressed into his chest, confirming the surety of him. His heart beat hard and true against my hands. I touched the warm skin of his cheeks.

  “Alison,” he whispered.

  I put my finger to his soft, succulent lips. Real life fell away—Mama, the farm, Jimmy Lee—none of it mattered or existed. None of it belonged to me any longer. The only thing that remained was Maggie’s determination to make our embrace okay, and how deliciously safe I felt. Jackson brought his hands to the back of my head, his thumbs pressing against the hollow beneath my ears. He leaned into me, his body tense, his gaze sliding right into my soul. I put my lips to his, tasting his sweet breath. His tongue slipped slowly into my mouth, lingering inside me, caressing the roof of my mouth, the sides of my teeth. I’d died and gone to heaven. A light rain trickled upon us, dripping down our faces like tiny, little blessings.

  He kissed my cheeks, my neck. “Alison.”

  I pulled him down to the ground, our bodies now a part of the field. He pushed my hair from my face. “Alison,” he said again, lying beside me.

  Desire swallowed my voice. Love poured from his fingertips as they trailed my blouse. “We can’t,” he whispered.

  I pushed him onto his back. “We can,” I said, and brought my lips to his, alighting warmth between my legs. I reached for the buttons on his pants. He grabbed my wrist, shaking his head.

  I lowered my lips to his fingers, drawing them back from the ridges of my wrist, and moved them slowly into my mouth, one by one. I wanted to taste every inch of him. His body trembled in anticipation. He closed his eyes. I watched him bite his lower lip, fighting his desires. Know your place, my father’s voice whispered. I was surprised how easily I was able to ignore it.

  I pushed his shirt up around his neck and kissed his chest, gently moving his arms away when he reached for me. Tears fell onto his chest as I ran my tongue down his stomach. He sucked in a breath, lifting my head, meeting my eyes.

  “I’m leavin’. In a week, I’ll be gone.” His eyes pleaded something between desire and fear.

  “We have now.”

  He shook his head, and pulled me alongside him. He leaned over me. “I want more than now.”

  I moved beneath him. “I’ll wait for you.” I didn’t know if I meant those words or not, but at that very second, their meaning felt as real as the ground beneath me. I reached for his cheek. He grabbed my arm and brought it between us. Our eyes met over my ring.

  “You’re not mine to have.”

  We stared at each other for interminable minutes. The rain sprinkled the ground around us.

  “I am, here,” I laid my hand on my heart, “where it matters.”

  Sadness laced his eyes. He turned away.

  “I won’t get married.” I said, and in the heat of that moment I meant it. “When you get out of the military, we can go to New York, with your friend, and my sister.”

  Hope swelled between us like a heartbeat. Jackson rested his forehead on my chin. I arched my neck and kissed his worry lines away.

  When he entered me, I gasped from pleasure, every nerve inside me sprang to life. He moved slow and careful, watching my eyes, asking if I was okay. His body shook, though his muscles strained beneath my hands. He kissed my cheeks, my eyes, licked my lips, in ways Jimmy Lee never had. We moved together like a perfect chorus to a familiar song. The brown of his eyes basked in love so true I could feel it wrapping around us like a blanket. Suddenly his body shivered and shook. He grit his teeth and let out a few fast, hard breaths.

  My future became clear. I could no longer be with Jimmy Lee. My heart belonged there, with Jackson. No matter how wrong Daddy might think we were, and for as long as it might take until we could safely be together, I would wait for him.

  Chapter Nine

  I awoke in a panic Saturday morning. What had I done? How would I get myself out of my impending marriage? I ran down the stairs and bolted out the front door. I needed air.

  Mama and Maggie were heading toward the house from the garden out past the barn. The morning sunlight illuminated Mama’s golden hair. Her striped, blue dress hung past her knees, the only thing that differentiated her age from Maggie’s. Maggie’s short shift stopped mid-thigh. I wondered what Daddy might think. Maggie threw her head back and laughed. I longed for her strength and confidence.

  I heard Daddy’s tractor in the distance, and looked for Jake’s bike. It was gone. Jake had been spending more and more time away from home, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

  “Pixie!” Maggie’s voice broke through my worry.

  Heading in her direction, I yelled, “I like your boots.” I’d only seen knee-high boots in fashion magazines. Maggie wrapped the crook of her arm around my neck.

  “Now I’m one of the cool girls,” she said with a pose.

  “Until Daddy sees you. He won’t let you wear those.”

  Mama lifted her eyebrows in confirmation.

  “Come on, Pix, before we go I want to show you somethin’.” Maggie grabbed my hand and ran toward the barn. She called over her shoulder, “We’ll be back in a bit!”

  I pulled the bottom of my skirt as low as it would go to cover the backs of my legs. The hay tickled my sk
in. Maggie wiggled beside me, pushing the hay flat beneath her thighs. “This loft used to be much more comfortable,” I laughed.

  “We’re orderin’ your weddin’ invitations today,” Maggie said.

  I looked out the small window that overlooked the fields. “I know,” I said.

  “So, if you’re gonna back out, now’s the time.”

  “Maggie!” I swatted at her arm. “I can’t back out. Mama has already booked the church. Everyone knows about it. Daddy would kill me.” Please help me back out.

  “So what?” Maggie pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and withdrew one cigarette. My eyes about popped out of my head as I watched her hold it elegantly between her lips and light the tip with a match.

  “What are you doin’?” My eyes swept the entrance of the barn, afraid our parents might catch us.

  Maggie took a long drag of the cigarette and held it in my direction with a nod.

  “No, no way. You’re gonna get in so much trouble.” She exhaled and smoke wafted around us. I inched away, fanning the air.

  She laughed. “I forget how young you are—and how sheltered. Everyone smokes, Pix.”

  Maggie looked so sophisticated, jealousy wrapped itself around my muscles and squeezed. She held her hand out again in my direction. I reached for it, fumbling to hold the cigarette the way she did, and dropped it on the hay below us. Maggie scooped it up and tamped down the embers.

  “Careful! You’ll burn the barn down.” She held the cigarette butt toward me and I moved my lips over it, sucked in a breath of awful-tasting smoke, and hacked until I fell over on my side, my face hot. My lungs burned. I knew then that I’d never be the same risk taker that Maggie was. I spat the ashy taste onto the hay. Maggie burst out laughing, and I was only seconds behind her. The next thing I knew, Maggie had put out the cigarette and we were rolling around, throwing hay at each other.