She Said, She Said

by Celeste Norfleet

  The names were too familiar. Having gone through her high school yearbook with Tamika the night before started a parade of grinning smiles to flash back at her.

  “You know what? I gotta throw a little something this evening to get everyone together. Does anyone else know you’re in town?”

  “No, I don’t think so. You’re the only person I recognized.”

  “And you barely did that, but I ain’t mad,” Grace joked. “So why don’t you stop by my house tonight around seven? I’ll tell the girls that I have a surprise.”

  “Okay,” Laura said readily. “Sounds like fun, I can’t wait.”

  “Cool, so I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Wait, where do you live?”

  “Same, my mom’s house.”

  “Okay, see you later.”

  Laura watched Grace sashay across the street in her usual flashy style. She was exactly the same. Bold and audacious, doing exactly what she wanted, when she wanted and to hell with anyone else. Laura always envied that about her.

  Anyway, by the time she headed back to the house it was near lunchtime. Tamika was up and dressed and sitting out front on the porch rail talking on the cell phone. She said hi, then when right back to talking.

  With the kitchen fully stocked Laura was beginning to feel like her old self again. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  “Hey,” Tamika said as she walked in and headed for the refrigerator. “Mom, there’s a cab pulling up out front. You expecting someone?”

  “What, a cab?” she asked rhetorically. “It can’t be Aunt Syl. She’s not coming until later on in the week,” Laura said as she headed to the front door. Tamika followed.

  Sylvia Pender, Laura’s father’s younger sister, was what some might call the black sheep of the family. Now gray-haired and slightly wrinkled with time, she was still totally outrageous.

  She’d been staying in the house since her father died three years ago. Keeping her mother company, she stayed even after her mother passed two years ago. Now, with the house so large and the upkeep so strenuous, she was in the process of moving to live closer to her daughter a few miles away.

  Sylvia got out of the cab as the driver pulled her small overnight bag from the trunk. She was chuckling and he was laughing outright. She looked up to see Laura and Tamika on the porch coming down the steps. “Hey, how are you, honey child?” she said happily.

  The cabdriver placed the small rolling bag on the porch and got back into the cab and drove off still laughing.

  “Aunt Sylvia, I thought you weren’t coming until later in the week.”

  “Changed my mind. Come here, honey child, and give me a hug. Lawd, it’s been how long?”

  “Aunt Syl, I just spoke with you the other day.”

  “I know but I haven’t seen you in forever, not since your mother’s funeral. God bless her soul. Girl, what’d you do to yourself?”

  “What do you mean?” Laura asked. “I look the same.”

  “Girl, you lost weight and got buff. Look at you, you look as sharp as a tack.”

  “Well, that’s because I got laid off and started running to relieve stress.”

  “Well, it’s working. You look fantastic. Got me wanting to get up and start running now.”

  Laura laughed.

  “All right, enough of that. Come on over here, missy. Let me see you,” Sylvia said to Tamika.

  Tamika walked over smiling, bent down and gave her a quick peck on the cheek and a hug. She didn’t see her often, but she always liked her aunt Syl. Sylvia was honest and patient and gave mostly everyone and everything a chance.

  She listened to all kinds of music and actually liked rap and hip-hop. She once said that rap was nothing but what she’d been doing all her life—telling the truth about what nobody wanted to hear. She was the one relative that Tamika totally related to. Of course, she was also nuts.

  “Tamika, girl, you getting just as pretty as you want to be. Tall and thin, just like your mother. What grade are you in now?”

  “I go to eleventh grade in September.”

  “Eleventh grade already? My, you’re getting up there, honey child. So, what are you thinking about doing with your life?”

  “I want to take pictures, probably for a magazine or newspaper, or hopefully be a photojournalist.”

  “A photojournalist?” Tamika nodded. “Oh, that’s nice.”

  Tamika nodded again. “I want to travel all over the world taking pictures.”

  “You mean of wars and famines and disasters?”

  “Well, hopefully I’ll be doing photos that are more interesting and not the violent or depressing images,” she said.

  “Yeah, I can see that,” Sylvia said. “You know, you should talk to your mother’s friend Grace. Her father’s the mayor. Plus he owns the local newspaper. Maybe he could use you this summer.”

  “You think?” Tamika asked hopefully, glancing at her mother.

  “Sure, why not ask? It’s only a question. He could say yes or he could say no. Either way, at least you tried.”

  Tamika paused a moment to consider what her great-aunt said. She was right. If she could get in to talk to Grace’s father about taking pictures for his paper, that would be incredible.

  “All right, so what are we doing standing out here talking? Let’s get inside and get something cool to drink.”

  “You hungry? I just picked up some groceries,” Laura said.

  “Nah, I’m just thirsty. What do you have that’s tall, dark and cool?” she asked, laughing as she opened the screen door and went inside. Laura followed, shaking her head. Tamika followed after her mother, rolling the small overnight bag behind her. She went upstairs while Sylvia and Laura went into the kitchen. They sat, each with a glass of iced tea, sipping and talking.

  “It’s so good to see you, Aunt Syl,” Laura said, hugging her aunt again just before she sat down.

  Sylvia smiled and nodded. “So how’s everything going?”

  “Not too bad actually,” Laura said, nodding happily. “It was a good drive down. We stopped in Arlington to put flowers on Granddad’s grave. Then we stopped in Alexandria to the old church.”

  “The old church graveyard?” Sylvia asked.

  Laura nodded.

  “How’d Tamika take that? About as well as you did, I’d wager.”

  “I was okay when Mom took me.”

  “I beg to differ. You were most definitely freaked out. Took you three weeks to stop complaining about it.”

  “Well, anyway, Tamika was as expected. It was a shock, granted. How many people see their name etched into a gravestone that dates back a hundred and fifty years ago? She was shaken but she’s okay now.”

  “How’s Malcolm?” Sylvia asked.

  “He’s fine, getting ready to leave for Tokyo again, so all and all everything is just about the same.”

  “Can’t ask for anything more than that, right?” Sylvia said, glancing at her and then looking around the kitchen. “So, when do you want to get started with this place?”

  Laura sighed heavily. “I don’t know, maybe next week. To tell you the truth, right now I’d like to just chill out. There are so many things going on that I just want to sit back and catch my breath awhile. I ran into Grace. I might give her a call and hang out a bit tonight.”

  “Good idea.”

  Laura refilled their drinks and they sat the rest of the afternoon laughing, talking and enjoying memories.

  Chapter 9

  Tamika

  A week later Tamika sat out on the front porch with her great-aunt Sylvia, a gray-haired woman with nearly clear skin and a bad case of stiff joints, or so she always said. She walked with a cane on bad days. On good days she still walked with a fancier cane.

  As old people go she was at least fun to be with. She had a wicked sense of humor and didn’t mind talking about people, even to their faces. She professed to always tell the truth. She said that this late in the game it damn well did
n’t matter anyway, so you might as well.

  It was late evening but not yet dark outside. The moon was high but the sky still had a daylight glow.

  “So, how you enjoying your stay so far?” Sylvia asked.

  “I’m not,” Tamika said truthfully, figuring that her aunt would appreciate her blatant honesty.

  “Why not? Sitting around all day on your computer thing, listening to your music with those things stuck in your ears and talking on the phone finally wearing you down?”

  Tamika got the biting wit of her sarcasm. “No, it’s just boring, nothing to do, that’s all. And the reason I do all that is ’cause there’s nobody else around.”

  “And what am I, chopped liver?”

  “No, you know what I mean. None of my friends are down here and there’s nothing to do.”

  “Find something else. You keep going on about taking pictures and how much you love it. Well, I ain’t seen you take one single picture since I been here and I been here a week now.”

  “That’s ’cause there’s nothing to take pictures of.”

  “Tamika, look around you. Life is all around you, or do you just take pictures of Boston fruit in a bowl?”

  “No.” Tamika had to smile. She knew that on some level her aunt was right. She hadn’t even pulled her camera out of her bag since she arrived a week ago. And any good photographer would have found something to shoot by now.

  “So take a picture, then. Go out, find something or somebody.”

  She nodded and shrugged. “Okay.”

  The screen door slammed closed. Tamika turned to see her mom standing there, smiling and all dressed up.

  “Well, look at you. Don’t you look nice,” Sylvia said.

  “Thanks, Aunt Syl. Well, Tamika, what do you think?”

  “You look nice.”

  “Thanks, sweetie. Okay, I’ll be back soon. I don’t know what time. I have my cell so call me if you need me.”

  “Honey child, go on out there and have yourself some fun.”

  Laura headed down the front steps. “I will. Bye.”

  Tamika watched as the red car backed up, then drove off. She stared until the last of the red taillights disappeared around the next corner.

  “Why is she acting so strange?”

  “Strange? How? What do you mean?”

  “I mean going out nearly every night and most of the days. It’s like she doesn’t even want to leave here. She said two weeks. It’s already been over a week and she hasn’t done anything to get this place started, let alone getting it finished. We’re supposed to leave next week. My internship starts then.”

  “Internship?”

  “Yes, it’s a photo camp internship. I was supposed to go, but instead I had to be down here to help clean out the house. But like I said, Mom’s not even thinking about starting or even doing anything.”

  “And exactly what have you done since you’ve been down here? Anything wrong with your hands?”

  “No, but it’s her job.”

  “What’s her job?”

  “To do this, to clean the house out. I don’t know what needs to be done.”

  “And how old are you?” Sylvia asked.

  “I mean, I know that things have to be organized and cleaned out, but I don’t know what she wants to keep and what needs to be trashed.”

  “Good point. Why don’t you talk to your mother about that?”

  “How, when? I can’t. She’s always hanging out with her friends. It’s embarrassing. I’m just glad none of my friends are down here to see this.”

  “So your mother doesn’t hang out at home?”

  “No, she works, or rather she worked, then came home and then that was it. She stayed there.”

  “Sounds pretty boring to me.”

  Tamika shrugged. “I guess.”

  Sylvia chuckled. “You guess. Well, honey child, didn’t you just tell me that you were bored after one week of just sitting in the house all evening doing nothing? Well, imagine what your mother feels like after how many years.”

  “But she’s got Dad to keep her company.”

  “Oh, does she?” Sylvia said slyly without giving anything away.

  Tamika looked at her. It was obvious she knew more than she was saying. “I guess Dad hangs at the office late most of the time. Then comes home and works some more.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Tamika didn’t say anything for some time. She just sat on the wooden rail with her back to the post letting her leg swing. She was thinking about her mother. Maybe she was bored at home too.

  “Honey child, Laura’s just blowing off a little steam, that’s all. Having a bit of fun before she has to go back. I guess sometimes it’s hard on her.”

  “Hard? But she’s a parent. She’s got the easy part.”

  “You think being an adult is easy?”

  “Yeah,” she said quickly.

  “How so?”

  Tamika starting listing. “No curfew with the car. No school every day whether you like it or not. No drama with teachers. No chores to do every day. Cash on demand any time you want it. Shopping whenever you want.”

  “Wow, that does sound pretty damn good.”

  “See…told you, easy.”

  “Although there’s also going to work every day whether you want to or not. Drama with bosses and coworkers. Making beds. Grocery shopping for the family. Cleaning bathrooms. Vacuuming, mortgages, car payments, bank loans.”

  “Still, Mom’s got the life, but she forgot what it was like when she was a teenager.”

  “Actually it looks like she’s starting to catch on.”

  “But she already did all this hanging out, right?”

  “You think so, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let me enlighten you about your mother’s teenage years. She went to school and she went home.”

  Tamika waited for more, but apparently that’s all her aunt was going to say. “So that’s it? No partying or hanging out with her friends?”

  “Did she ever tell you about her older sister, Debra?”

  “Yeah, Aunt Deb, she died before I was born.”

  “Well, your aunt Deb was five years older than your mother. She thoroughly enjoyed her teen years. She partied and hung out, then eventually dropped out of school and ran away. She died shortly after that. It broke your mother’s heart. So by the time Laura was a teenager your grandparents refused to let that happen again. They were extremely strict on her—no parties, no hanging out with friends. She had to go to school, get good grades, then come home and work in the store with them.”

  “So you’re saying that she missed out on her teens, that’s why she’s doing all this now.”

  “No, I’m just saying that there’s more to your mother than meets the eye. Maybe she is trying to relive her teens, or recapture something she never had. I don’t know. I do know that having a little bit of fun won’t do nobody no harm, might even do a little good.”

  “Wait, what about the concert T-shirts in the attic? Mom said they were bought at the concerts, so she must have gone out sometimes. She said they were hers and that she was dancing onstage.”

  Sylvia looked confused for a second, and then she burst out laughing. “Honey child, I forgot all about those clothes up there. Yeah, oh yeah, she danced onstage all right. I guess it’s okay to say something now.” She chuckled.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your mother used to stay with me once in a while, a long weekend here or there, maybe a week or two weeks at a time in the summer. That’s when I lived in Atlanta. So when she was with me we went to concerts, hung out, listened to music and had a ball. Your grandparents never knew about it of course,” she said, then winked. “It was our little secret.”

  “So you snuck her out to have fun,” Tamika said.

  “Like I said before, a little bit of fun won’t do nobody no harm.” She yawned, then chuckled again and slapped her bare arm. “All right, that’s it for me. I’ve had it.
I’m heading in. These mosquitoes are eating me alive out here.” She stood and walked over to the rail. “Good night, Tamika.”

  “Good night, Aunt Sylvia.” They hugged and then Sylvia headed to the screen door to go inside.

  Tamika stayed out later. She was thinking about what her aunt had said. She knew that she was at least partly right. There was no reason she couldn’t get things started. After all, she was the one who wanted to get back to Boston, not her mom.

  When she finally decided to go inside she went up to the attic instead of her bedroom. It was hot upstairs but definitely not as hot as it was the first night she was up there with her mother. Now they kept the ventilation and exhaust fan going all the time.

  She turned on the light and looked around. The place was just as they’d left it. There were boxes, opened and closed, all over the floor, and records lying around on the floor beneath the old record player. Tamika went over and started putting things back in boxes. When she got to the journals and diaries she decided to take a peek. After all, it wasn’t as if they were new and there was anything interesting. It was just her mother’s diary. How interesting could they possibly be?

  April 1977

  “What am I, blind or something? Deb went to stay with Aunt Syl again. I know she’s pregnant. They act like I’m five years old. I’m ELEVEN! I know what pregnant looks like. Imagine that, church folks having a pregnant daughter, boo-hoo. It’s not like it never happened before, right? Please. It happens all the time. What’s the big deal? Mom’s all upset and I think Dad’s just shocked. Again, big deal. When Mrs. Evans’s daughter down the street got pregnant three years ago everybody was all nice and understanding and everything. But now that it’s Deb they’re pissed. I don’t get it. I hope she has a boy. Anyway, that’s all. Bye.

  Tamika stopped reading. Her mouth was still open. If it were true and her aunt Deb was pregnant, then what happened to the baby? Tamika turned the page quickly, looking for the next entry.

  February 1977

  It’s my birthday. YEAH!!!! I got a skirt, a pair of jeans and some shirts. Mom and Dad gave me a telescope because I like to look at the stars. It’s big and shiny. I went out tonight but the sky was cloudy. I still love it!!! Aunt Syl gave me all these diaries. She said to write in it whenever I feel like screaming no matter if it’s something good or something bad. So today I feel like screaming—something good!!!