Reena burst out in her li’l high-pitched voice, “Damn, Neeyla Jean! You from the country and can’t jump no fence?”
She laughed her pretty li’l butt off as she helped me up. I couldn’t even answer her. I spent my whole life keeping babies from jumpin’ fences—not jumpin’ ’em myself.
We gathered round this band playin’ and carryin’ on. Them boys was so fine, and it seemed like they was singing every tune just for me! The lead singer reached down and gave me his rose. My li’l brown face turned rose red, ’cause ain’t no boy ever entertained me like that. Reena was just smilin’. She was proud that I was havin’ a good time. We danced the night away. As the night went on, I looked over to my left and I caught Reena sipping out of a li’l flask.
“Reena! What in the hell is you drinkin’?”
“Moonshine! Here, drank some.”
I snatched the flask from her, lookin’ at her from under my eyes. I smelled it first.
“This mess stankin’! I ain’t drankin’ that! “Drink it gal, it’s gon’ make you feel like dancin’ some more.”
I was scared, but I drank a big swig anyway. It was the nastiest thing I ever tasted in my fourteen years of livin’. My God! I started gettin’ dizzy real quick, and all giggly. I started dancin’ like I had lost my mind. Somehow the singer had worked my li’l butt up on that stage somehow, and I was up there dancin’ like I was a part of the band. I always had dreams of bein’ a singer. I had songs I’d written myself! He handed me the microphone, but I just froze up ’cause I didn’t know the words, so I just danced and danced. Before I knew it, the carnival was over and me and Reena was ’bout to walk on back home.
“Where you ladies stay? We can drop y’all off if ya like. Kinda dark for two pretty drunk ladies to be walkin’,” I heard the familiar voice say from behind.
“We ain’t drunk,” I said. I always had a quick, smart reply to anybody.
“Well, we wouldn’t mind. Would ya, Neeyla Jean?” Reena said.
And there was Reena’s hot ass, interrupting. I sure was drunk, so I just followed Reena, hopin’ she would keep me safe.
Chapter 9
We hopped in the van with the boys and we set off. We told ’em where we stayed, but they insisted on showing us this spot over behind the river; we could lay out there and drink. I didn’t know how I felt ’bout the idea of bein’ alone with some boys I barely knew. Reena was used to doin’ stuff like this, so I guess I could trust her. We drove down to where the river was. We had to park at the levee and walk down. I was actin’ all shy until I drank some more of that moonshine. We was just some drunk fools out there, laughin’ in the night. I didn’t hear no babies cryin’ and yellin’, so I was content.
The singer kept tellin’ me his name, but I couldn’t remember it for nothin’. I was feeling so good until I felt his hand slip down in my pants. I had never been around no boy before like that, alone. Reena had disappeared back into the van, and I could see the van over there shaking. I grabbed that nigga’s hand and told him if he ever touched me again I was gon’ put my cousins on him. That boy rose up and bucked his eyes at me.
“Ain’t no gal ever told me no! You think you too good with all these fancy clothes on! I can tell you’s from the country. Give me some of this here country tail!”
“No! I ain’t had sex before, and I ain’t breaking that no time soon!”
“Reena!” I yelled her name loud as I could. “Let’s get home! I don’t wanna be out here no more! You can stay, but I’m walkin’!”
There she come, busting out the van all half-dressed.
“Neeyla Jean, wait! Don’t leave! What happened?”
“You would’ve known if you wasn’t in there laid on yo’ back.”
I marched on off with my nose in the air. I didn’t care if Reena was comin’ or not. I was so mad that I didn’t care ’bout walkin’ in the dark by myself. Mad as I was, if anybody tried to get me, I was gon’ fight they ass like I was a man. By the time I made it back, the sun was comin’ up. Uncle Sammy met me at the door.
“Just where in the hell you been?” he said. “And where is Reena’s ass at?”
I stared at him for a second. I was gon’ make up a lie, but I couldn’t think of one.
“She out by the river with her boyfriend,” I told him. “I got cold, so I come back home.” Even though I knew that wasn’t the real reason.
“Why y’all gotta be out so late? Y’all gon’ get what y’all lookin fo’. And that’s a nice baby.”
“Uncle Sammy, I ain’t do nothin’,” I said.
I guess he ain’t have time to worry ’bout Reena. Probably was used to her stayin’ out late all times of the night with different boys. She was smart and pretty, but—I hate to say it—my cousin was a whore.
Chapter 10
Spring had come and we was still down at Uncle Sammy’s house in Greenwood. I’m sure they didn’t mind us bein’ over, knowing how Carrie and Jabo liked to cut up. I sure did miss the country, though. Seemed as if I could keep a better eye on them boys in Greenwood rather than out there in all that wide, open land. Seem like the sun shines a li’l different out in the country. Reena was workin’ for this white woman down on Meadock Road, where she was cleanin’ and cookin’ until she got ready to go to school. I knew it was ’bout time for me to get to workin’ and savin’ up my money so I could go to college like Reena. She was eavesdroppin’, listenin’ at my conversation.
“Good luck. Workin’ for these white folks ain’t easy. Never know what you gon’ end up with. Never know how they gon’ treat ya,” she said.
I just looked over at Reena. I smiled a li’l bit, but I let what she said go in one ear and roll out the other one.
“Roll that hair first!” she said. Reena was always pickin’ at my plaits, but it didn’t make me mad. I knew Reena really liked me, and wanted me to do good. “Just ask yo’ boss lady, and see what she say.”
Come the next day, I got hired. Reena’s boss-lady sister needed somebody to look after the house since she was gettin’ old and her husband had died. The house was over in North Greenwood. I had never worked for no white folks before. Barely been around ’em! But I reckon I was gon’ be all right. I just prayed she was a nice woman. I was gon’ get the guts to ask Miss Nellie if she would watch them babies for me while I was workin’. She was disabled. All she wanted to do was sit around the house all day while my Uncle Sammy worked his butt off. It wasn’t gon’ hurt her to watch them babies until Luella got out of school. So I asked.
“Miss Nellie? You mind watchin’ these boys for me while I work over there in North Greenwood? I got me a part-time job helpin’.”
“You helpin’? Lord! What done got into you?”
“Well I need to save me some money so I can go to college, too, Miss Nellie.”
“I reckon. How long you talkin’?”
“’Bout four hours a day. At least until Luella gets out of school.”
“Wait. How you gon’ go to college and you ain’t in school? That’s backwards as hell.”
“I’m gon’ get my GED, Miss Nellie.”
“I reckon. I’ll watch ’em. I want you to get your education, too. It’s important for us black people to be educated.”
I ain’t say much back to Miss Nellie. I had some money on my mind. Shoot, I was gon’ be the first black eye surgeon from Money, Mississippi. I was gon’ sew every white person’s eye up that ever looked down on a Negro. I know I needed some money, so I was gon’ suck it up and do everything that white lady said.
I didn’t have no uniform, so I went with some regular clothes on. Reena told me that the lady’s name was Mrs. Baker. Had a real big, ole, nice house. Before I could walk in the door good, she was lookin’ at me all crazy.
“Now what’s your name, young lady? And where is your uniform?”
“Well, I’m Neeyla Jean, but my folks call me by my middle name—Marie—and I’m afraid I ain’t got one. How do I get it?”
“Don’t ask me.
These things you should know already.”
I didn’t like this job already.
Mean-ass, old white lady, I thought to myself. I thought ’bout just pushin’ her off the bed and runnin’ back to Money. Thinkin’ they got the right to be bossing black women around. But oh, I knew better. I was gon’ be a dead girl if them white folks even knew I was thinkin’ somethin’ like that.
“No, ma’am. I’m sorry. I’ll do my best to find me one today.”
“Good, I’ll let you slide since you seem new to this. Grab that water pail over there and water my plants out on the porch. And when you done, get back in here and fix yourself some cold lemonade.”
She smiled a li’l and winked at me. At this point, I was thinkin’ this lady had gone smack crazy. Bein’ all mean to me at first, then bein’ nice—or either she was plottin’ on me, tryna accuse me of stealin’ her nice china.
“Yes, ma’am. I would love some lemonade.”
“Choose any cup you want.”
I turned to go get the pail so I could water the plants and I noticed how beautiful these white folks was really livin’ down in Greenwood. Their backyard was as wide as some of that land out there in Money. Never seen no house in town with all that yard space. I watered the plants like Mrs. Baker told me to. Then I went in the kitchen to find the nicest piece of china they had. I reached in the icebox and pulled out a glass jug with pink lemonade in it. It was hot and sticky outside, and I was thirsty as a race horse.
I reached in the cupboard and pulled down a white teacup with li’l mockingbirds flyin’ around on it, and the rim of the cup was outlined in gold. I poured the lemonade and filled it to the rim. I raised that cup up to my mouth first so I could see how sweet white folks made lemonade. I took one sip, and then all of a sudden I got this strange-ass feeling. I felt like somebody was watchin’ me. I’m guessin’ them feelings don’t lie, ’cause there sure was a white boy standin’ there in the hallway, watchin’ the hell out of me.
Chapter 11
“You know what they do to niggers for trespassin’, don’t you?”
I just looked at him.
“Yessir, but I’m not trespassin’.”
“You smartin’ me, nigger?”
He walked up to me, lookin’ me all over with the prettiest, biggest, bluest eyes I had ever seen. I had never seen no ocean, but I’m sure that’s what the ocean looked like. I wanted to be scared, but I just couldn’t. I don’t know what was wrong with me. It was just a feeling he gave me, how he was lookin’ me over.
“Now I’m gon’ ask you again, why you up in my mama’s house?”
“Well, sir, I’m helpin’ over here. I ain’t have no uniform, so yo’ sweet mama let me slide.”
“You helpin’, huh? Well, well. It’s ’bout time we got some help around here. Tell me your name then, nigger, so I won’t have to be callin’ you nigger.”
If I wasn’t mistaken, I think this boy was tryna be all fresh with me.
“I’m Neeyla Jean, sir.”
“Neeyla Jean, huh? That’s a nice name for a young nigger girl.”
“Well, sir, since I told you my name, I thought you wasn’t gon’ be callin’ me nigger.”
He looked at me and grinned. Then he just walked on upstairs and he ain’t look back.
I woke up early, and Reena was already gone to work. I was gon’ ask her to let me wear one of her uniforms so Mrs. Baker wouldn’t have her son to hang me, but I had a strong hunch they wasn’t gon’ do that. It was somethin’ different ’bout them Bakers. Somethin’ real mysterious, and I was gon’ find out.
I slept in rollers the night before, and rolled my hair just how Reena showed me. I couldn’t be lookin’ like no slave girl. Shoot, I wasn’t no damn slave, and I wasn’t ’bout to be lookin’ like one. I had to wear my hair down just in case that white boy wanted to call me a nigger again. I was gon’ show his small-faced ass. I found the perfect uniform, all ironed and neat, hangin’ up in the back of Reena’s closet like she was hidin’ it or somethin’. I ain’t have time to wonder, since it was ’bout time for me to start walkin’ on to work. I slipped on the uniform, and combed all that hair of mine down.
“Damn!” I said to myself, laughin’ and carryin’ on like I was gone crazy. “My hair sure is gettin’ longer by the day.”
I was gon’ show this white boy just who in the hell he was callin’ a nigger.
Chapter 12
I think Mrs. Baker thought I couldn’t cook, since I was so young. Shoot, I’d started cookin’ when I was five.
“Neeyla Jean, can you drive?” she asked me.
“Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Baker, I can drive.”
“How you know how to drive, girl?”
“Drivin’ my daddy’s truck in the fields, Mrs. Baker. That’s how I know how to drive.”
“You sure are quick with your answers, Miss Neeyla Jean.”
I just smiled at her. I usually be thinkin’ of somethin’ to say back, but I didn’t. Didn’t nothin’ cross my mind.
“I need you to drive my car to the grocery store and pick somethin’ you’d like to cook for dinner tonight.”
I wasn’t really thinkin’ nothin’ of it until I remembered her shiny, brand new, baby-blue 1964 Thunderbird sittin’ outside. It was a convertible, too, just like the ones I saw in Jet Magazine.
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll go.”
I was tryna keep calm. I ain’t wanna seem too excited; she might would have changed her mind.
“Here is a twenty dollars. Buy what you need, and keep the change.”
I reached and got the money from Mrs. Baker. While she was talkin’ to me I couldn’t hear nothin’ she said. I was feeling that money all around in my hand. My hand was hot, boy! I never held no twenty dollar bill before. That was a hell of a lot of money.
“Huh? I mean, ma’am?”
“Ain’t you been listenin’ to a word I said, girl?”
“Yes, indeed, Mrs. Baker. I’ll be right back.”
“My keys are already in the car. Come back now. If I hear you joyridin’, you gon’ be in some trouble.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I waited until I got out of Mrs. Baker’s sight and I started walkin’ fast to the door. Once I got outside, well, I started runnin’ like them pigs get to runnin’ when we pour that slop. I couldn’t wait to drive that fine car. I was runnin’ so fast, I got to the car before I thought I would. I ran into the door like a clumsy fool, but I hopped in real fast. Them seats burned my bottom soon as I sat down. That’s them good leather seats they be talkin’ ’bout. I cranked the car up. Engine sounded so smooth; nothin’ like daddy’s truck. I pulled off down the street.
At that very moment, I was a white woman in my mind. I let the windows down so my hair would blow. I was drivin’ slow as hell ’cause I didn’t want the ride to end. I was real careful, though. If a white person noticed me drivin’ that fine car, they was gon’ be sure to call the law. I pulled up at the store, but I had to park in the coloreds parkin’ lot.
This was my first time drivin’ uptown in a nice, fancy car. Everybody was lookin’. Lucky they was all black folks. Damn, I guess they was wonderin’ why a white person was parkin’ in the colored lot. I jumped out the car and slammed the door.
“What the hell y’all lookin’ at?” I said.
Nobody ain’t said a mumblin’ word. They just kept walkin’. I hurried on in the store so I could see what in the world I was gon’ cook. Before I could walk in the store good, grown men was just starin’ at me, asking me how my day been, but I just ignored they old, fresh asses. I just kept walkin’.
I walked over to the aisle where the cornbread mix was. Threw some in a basket. Then I picked up some pot roast from the meat section, and then some yams. That was my favorite meal Big Mama made for us. I used to watch her cook it so much that I memorized the recipe by heart. The colored line was so long I wanted to go and get in the whites only line, but of course I didn’t. I stood in line fifteen minutes, waitin’ to get ch
ecked out.
Finally I was goin’ back so I could get on in the kitchen before dark.
“Here’s ya keys, Mrs. Baker. I didn’t know if you wanted me to leave ’em in the car. Somebody might steal it.”
“I’m not worried about that, girl,” she said.
I went on preparin’ for the night’s dinner. It took two hours for me to get everything set up. I got dinner done around eight, and by that time we both was starving.
“Set that table for three. You eatin’ with us.”
“’Us’?” I asked her. Now I was wonderin’ who was comin’ over here.
“Henry’s havin’ dinner, too.”
“Who is Henry, if you don’t mind me askin’, Mrs. Baker?”
“That’s my son. He goes to school over at Mississippi State. He’s a senior, but he’s home for spring break.”
There I went, blushin’, but, oh, I couldn’t let Mrs. Baker know! I set the table fine as I could for three people. I had on the uniform, but my hair sure was pretty. We all sat down. Mrs. Baker sat at the head of the table. Me and Henry was sittin’ right across from each other.
“This a fine meal you done made here, Miss Neeyla,” he said to me.
He looked at me with them big blue eyes and a real sneaky look. I didn’t trust this joker. I looked down at his plate, and he damn near licked the plate clean. I was just smilin’. I knew that was a good-ole country meal that Mr. Henry wasn’t used to.
“You’re welcome, Mr. Henry.”
“How you know my name, girl?”
“Well, a birdie told me, sir.”
“I got your birdie. I told you about your mouth.”
“I see you two must’ve already met!” said Mrs. Baker, gettin’ all up in it.
“Yes, ma’am, we did, Mrs. Baker.”
I was still lookin’ at Henry the whole time. I never took my eyes off him, and he didn’t stop watchin’ me either.
“Y’all play nice, you hear? Don’t need no trouble around here,” Mrs. Baker said.
Sunshine in the Delta: A Novel Page 3
