The next morning, Sunday, it rang again, early. When she said “Hello,” Fred answered, “Hello, Vinnie?”
“Yes?” Her heart skipped a tiny little beat.
“This is Fred.”
“Hello, Fred,” said in a very pleasant voice.
“I see you are dating, at least, I heard about it.”
“Yes, Fred, I am.”
“Well . . . I’m calling to see if I might have a date with you. A little dinner? And dancing? Unless you have a man . . . now and he won’t want you to.”
Vinnie smiled. “No, no. I’m a free woman . . . Fred.”
“Well, Free Woman, may I have a date this Saturday evening?”
“Not Friday anymore?”
“Well, we can go out Friday and Saturday if you want to. I want to talk to you.”
Vinnie looked at her clock, she was thinking of church, then leaned back into her pillow. She wanted to see him sooner than Saturday. “Friday is better. For dinner only, though. I’m kinda tired.”
Fred’s voice hardened a little, “Yes, I guess all that dancing lately can wear you down.”
“I also work.”
Fred let a long sigh escape, “Well, if Friday is alright, that’s good. Still, I would like Saturday, too.”
Vinnie smiled, saying, “Well, let’s talk about Saturday on Friday.”
Fred was silent for a moment, then, “Alright, Vinnie. Six o’clock?”
“Six o’clock.”
After she hung up the phone Vinnie’s heart was glad, happy, however not too happy because she loved him, but he was still Fred.
That Friday, he picked her up and they took that long drive to the restaurant and the dinner was, as usual with him, good. She had been reading a few new things about etiquette and this time she was not so nervous. She relaxed more and had a better time with him.
He drove slowly back to her house. As he parked, he asked, “I know it’s late, but can I come in for a minute? To talk?”
“Of course, Fred, you know I enjoy your company.”
Inside her house, Vinnie turned the radio on . . . softly.
As Fred removed his coat he said, “Put on some records, some romantic records. Your son didn’t take his record player with him, did he?”
Vinnie laughed gently, “You have fed me so well, I’m just too full to fool with anything. We’re just gonna talk anyway.”
Fred sighed and sat back on the sofa, then took another deep breath. Said, “Vinnie? Girl, woman, my life is more empty every day. I got most things I want, but these years you been out of my life, my life ain’t nothing and I don’t have no desire but one and that’s you.”
Vinnie, sitting beside him, looked down at her hands in her lap.
Fred reached for one of her hands and said, “I thought I was right. And I was, but I wasn’t alllll right. But, I don’t think you are all right either. I was kinda blinded by my own self. I could have done more . . . but I didn’t think it would take you this long . . . if you loved me. I see the error in my ways now. With your help. And . . . and . . . well, there is no other way to say it. I just love you. I still want to marry you. You stay in my mind, between me and anybody else. Ain’t nobody for me but you. And we can do things your way too. Together. I’m not right all the time; I see now. I mean . . . I can be right, but there is a right way to do things.”
He took a deep breath because he had said quite a bit and she was still looking at her hand in his. “Vinnie? Do you . . . love that man you been going out steady with?”
Wasn’t any sense in lying. “No, I don’t.”
Fred breathed half a sigh of relief. “You make love to him? Or anyone else . . . at all?”
“I shouldn’t answer that, but no. Though I am sure you do. I have some dreams of my own for my future.”
Fred held her hand tighter. “Well what do you think? Can we get back together?”
Vinnie thought carefully. She loved this man. He was a good man. But, the main thing was, this was her life and she wanted her remaining years to try to be good ones with a man or good years without one; whichever was best for her. Her. “Well . . . Fred . . . We can start over . . . if you like . . . and see where we get to this time.”
His happiness bubbled so that he laughed out loud without intending to. “Oh, we are going all the way, this time. I don’t want to lose you. Ahhh . . . Can I kiss you?”
“I don’t kiss on my first date.” Vinnie smiled.
“Just a ‘hello’ kiss?”
“Well . . . one.”
Fred, smiling, “Then come on over here in my arms.” “Meet you halfway?”
“Let’s each come as far as they want to, together.”
They both moved toward each other and Fred held that one kiss for as long as he could, until they both needed to breathe. Vinnie kept it to the one kiss though it took all her strength because her body was hungry and she loved him, too. But, she thought, “This has got to be for real and it has to be right or it ain’t gonna be nothin. I don’t trust myself with my heart beatin like it is now.”
The kiss held more than a promise.
Josephine, seeing Fred’s car at Vinnie’s so often, made it her business to let Vinnie know, “I hope you are not letting that man back in your life again! He won’t do you right this time either! You need to learn about men! You a fool for that man! He calls and you go running! That is not the way to get a man!”
Wynona, of course, knew what was happening to both Fred and Vinnie because each of them told her how they felt. Wynona, never having listened to Josephine anyway, laughed with her brand of huge delight when she was told. To Vinnie she said, “Girl, I know you smart! But don’t take too many of them chances cause he is a good man. I done told you that!”
In a month Vinnie was wearing an engagement ring. A small wedding was even planned for two weeks later.
One talk they had before the wedding, Fred said, “We’ll sell your house and you live in my house until we get a larger one for us.”
Vinnie answered, smiling, “No, dear. I don’t think so. I’ll just fix this one up and rent it out. That way the income can help us and if either one of us ever gets blinded by our ‘own’ ways, I’ll always have a home of my own.”
“Ahhhhh, Vinnie, let’s not talk about that kind of stuff.”
“But, you taught me, Fred, and you are right. We will stay together, always, but I may want to do something else with the house. No rush to sell. Let’s just concentrate on being together.”
Fred nodded his head, slowly. “Yes, let’s just be together.”
Another promising kiss.
Then, one day the wedding was over. Vinnie’s things were packed and ready. Eduardo came to move her things out of her house. Vinnie watched the workingmen as they moved her things from her past to her future.
When the house was empty, Vinnie stood by her favorite window where her thinking chair used to be. It was another drizzly, misty day. As she looked out she saw those moving specks, way, way up in the sky. She stood still, watching them for a long time as the eagles came closer and closer. They flew so gracefully, so beautifully; gliding, swooping, turning in that wondrous arc, flying up one minute, descending effortlessly the next minute, with the wind flowing over and under their wings. The birds seemed to circle above her house, even though they were high in the sky; then when they flew above Josephine’s house, the eagles seemed to arch their backs, one at a time, youth following mother, they would fly straight up . . . then off . . . then away.
Vinnie pressed her hand to the window and said, “I will really miss you, my eagle birds. I do not know where you keep your nest, your home and whatever is in it. You are untouchable in that sky. You seem to be so free. Please, stay awake to dangers. And know that some of my spirit is always with you.” She sighed. “But this is my house and I am going to keep it in case I need it or my children need it. I will come back. To work on my yard and look in on old Mother Foster and I will look for you. Always, I will look for you. You
are very beautiful . . . and I love you. I wish you would follow me to my new home and let me keep seeing your beauty. Try. Take care of yourselves. And I’ll try to take care of myself. I am in Love . . . you know.”
The eagles were flying away, soaring, their wings seemed to wave “good-bye” to her. Vinnie picked up her purse, looked around the room, then, walking back to her thinking window, placed both her hands on it as she watched them.
Her spirit had come into her, was no longer outside screaming through the days and nights.
Then . . . with a smile that came from her warm and happy heart, she turned to her old front door. When she closed the door behind her, in a manner of speaking, she flew, soaring away too.
The Lost and the Found
Now . . . I am not an old woman, nor a young woman neither. I’m not too smart, but I’m not too dumb either. And I don’t go round tendin to other folks’ business, like watchin everybody every day. And long as I been livin I ain’t seen nothin more pitiful than a fool! Lessen its death. I got sense enough to know where I been, so sometimes I can tell where somebody else is goin. One of the things I seen is women proud to think they are beautiful, men proud of the same thing, but men add the pride of making babies. Chile, it’s a dangerous world out there! Just chuck full of fools. And you can blive that! Yes mam!
I live in a little town that is so small, half of it is in the country. Oh, it’s big enough to have some bars and food places for young folks to have a drink and dance if they want to. And it got three churches which I ain’t sure God knows about, but I ain’t no judge. No mam. I go back and forth to all of them . . . looking for the spirit of truth. Then I talk to God all by myself so He will not get my intentions mixed up with nobody else’s.
But, the thing about fools is some of em think they havin fun makin fools of everybody else and the biggest fool of all is them! It’s all kind of fools, you know: the fools they make and the fools they are their own self.
I’m old enough for things in my life to mostly all be behind me now. I live alone and I don’t have too much to do, so you know you just do have time to sit out on your porch or in your window and watch the world as it tries to pass by, stumblin, walkin or runnin, even sometimes staggerin, along the way. So I just accidently see things in the day and in the night cause I don’t seem to sleep good much as I used to. I was younger then and I guess I was just tired enough tryin to survive, to sleep longer. Now, my life ain’t full of so much . . . stuff, so I guess I don’t need so much rest. Even sinning is a job. Yes mam!
I’m a friendly person, so I got friends that stop by, now and again. They sit on my red porch swing and talk. I like that swing cause folks get comfortable in it and just talk and talk, chile.
You may call me Mrs. Everly. I got a first name, but you don’t need it. You can come on by and sit and talk sometime.
The reason I’m talkin like this is because I got a friend of mine in my mind. She is a young girl, but she is a woman, cause she got two children, sons. She made some mistakes cause she got them kids and she ain’t never been married . . . yet. He, the father of them babies, always promisin her though. Men usually make them kinda promises. Keepin em is somethin else. Yes mam. Promises are free. You can make em all day if you want to! Keepin em, sometimes, takes a heap more time.
Now, I know it’s new times we livin in, they say. Modern. You know what I mean; livin with somebody you ain’t married to, or havin babies for em and you still ain’t married to em. They gettin what they want, but usually you ain’t! Times may be new, but human beings ain’t and they will do what you let em do or what you make em do. Yes MAM!
Somebody need to tell them women if a man want you, they will marry you! That’s true! If they don’t want you, just want your body for a good time, then, seem to me, you can’t leave them alone fast enough. When I was growin up, I knew for my own self, if you didn’t love me enough to marry me, respect me, I couldn’t love you enough to let you use my body . . . too much, and certainly not put no baby in it! No mam. I owed my possible baby more than that and I sure owed myself more! I did not intend to go down the street draggin no tears runnin down my face and babies holdin on to my dress tail and a bag of dirty diapers in my arms! while the daddy is somewhere else tryin to make another one. No sir!
But, can’t nobody run life like they want to every time. A little bit always gets away from you.
I’m thinkin of that nice young woman I was tellin you about; her name is Irene. Irene is a friend of mine, too. I try to help her when I can. She lives up the road there, in the country part of this town. I can see the house from here on my porch. Now, that boy-man who made them babies, they call him “Cool” cause he cool. Makes me want to laugh, but it is too pitiful. He got Irene and she been waitin on him to marry her for bout nine years. She love him, she say. He SAY he loves her, too.
I have to stop and tell you this little thing. I have a nephew name of Joe who has a little bar and cafe just a little ways up towards town and Joe loves that red swing of mine and sittin talkin to me. He say it rests his mind. I don’t never go to his bar cept for the times his cook don’t come in, then I go up there and cook for him. It do me good. A little exercise, you know. Plus, you see some STUFF goin on in there! People’s business and all. Joe told me Cool loves all women. That mostly he comes in lookin for some “action.” See? I told you! I hear . . . they say . . . women give him presents; gifts and money, clothes and just whatever he need . . . That’s what THEY say . . .
So that’s why Cool be at them bars all the time, when he ain’t hidin from somebody. And Joe is why I hear bout what might be going on sometimes.
Every once in a while, at night when I can’t sleep and be sittin at my window, I see Cool walkin down this road front of my house and I know he headin for Irene. She cook him something nice and, the boys are sleep, so he make some quick sex to her and get some safe sleep he sure must need, then he gone again, til next time he need some food or safe sleep. But, I got to tell the truth about him; he loooooves his sons! They are his pride and joy. He don’t give em much, he lets Irene do all the gettin and givin, but he brags about them all the time. When anyone questions his manhood, he throw them kids up in their face and pounds on his chest. Just like a fool. He act like it was something hard to do, like everything on earth ain’t makin babies all the time. Or wouldn’t the earth be empty? So what kind of man do it make you just cause you made a baby?! Jesus help me!
Irene don’t give him no money, though. Can’t. She ain’t got none to give. She bout thirty years old now, Cool is bout thirty-six or -seven. Irene works domestic, so she can carry her sons with her when they not in school. You already know she don’t make much, but all she makes go into those sons of hers.
There is an older man, Russell, Russell Summer, who owns that house she rents. Russell bout forty-five years old or so. He is the nicest, kindest, man! He go check on her pretty regular, cause he got to keep that house up. But I don’t think he is tryin to court her. I don’t see nobody else going to Irene’s house like they courtin her, either. She just waitin. Working and waitin for Cool, Mr. Main Man, to get a real job and marry her. Poor chile.
Irene visits me and we talk, sometimes, cause when life gets too full of sh—stuff, you got to let some of it out and I am her friend cause all women are my sisters, specially the sad ones.
I got two friends much closer to my age. Rether, bout sixty-five years old. She use’ta always like to be in some juke joint or bar. She thought she was a “swinger,” as they say now. She like to say that too. Rether had different men, lot of em, in her life. She alone now. But you can see every drink she ever had and all them lines that was slapped and knocked into her face. They ain’t no love lines either, they lyin lines. Rether even got nerve to think she still look good, too! Now, I know women can look good at sixty-five, even seventy-five years of age, but Rether ain’t one of them! Them older lookin-good women took better care of their self! See, lipstick and powder don’t cover up bitterness and
old pain and selfishness. They the things that make you look old. She likes to think she still looks like she use’ta, and I don’t worry her none about it, cause what she got left . . . but dreams?
Rether got a niece named LaTanya. LaTanya! They call her Tan-Tan. She only bout forty-four, forty-five years old. Combination waitress and sell a little bit of herself sometime, but still she be broke all the time. Hear tell even she likes that ole Cool.
My other friend is Agatha. Don’t know where her mother went to come up with that name, but she sure did and Agatha got it. And you have to call her “Agatha” cause she does not like to be called “Aggie.” She bout sixty-seven now. She always was what some people call a prude, but she was always neat and I have to say she musta been wise cause she had two husbands and kept em. The first one died, then she got the second one. She’s a good person, keeps a clean body and a clean house. They left her with a nice house ALL her own, not the bank’s, and it is full of very nice things. She drives her own car. Rether ain’t got one.
But, Agatha is nosy. Very nosy. (Not like me.) I have the print of her behind in my red swing over the years. That print is only pink now. So . . . such as they are, they are my friends and it’s hard to fine good friends, chile.
Well, anyway, I knew em when they started, Cool and Irene, bout ten years ago. I have watched the years go by, leavin shadows on Irene’s face, and don’t never see no shadows on Cool’s face. Course, I mostly see him at night when you can’t see shadows too good noway, but from all I hear, a shadow ain’t got no place to stop in his brain long enough to reach his face.
Now, I ain’t too old to remember how it is being in love, cause I had three husbands and two of em didn’t die. I loved em all! So I know bout love. Heck, one of em, when he made love to me? Could make me speak something sound like Spanish. Couple times I think I even spoke some Chinese. I’m just tryin to tell you, I know somethin about love. And I love that little Irene cause she try so hard. And when she come to see me, tears runnin down her pretty little face, it just bout like to kill me inside my heart.
The Future Has a Past Page 19
