Being Clem

by Lesa Cline-Ransome

  Before we started our second lesson, Anthony told me we had to make sure it was okay with Coach Palmer for him to give me lessons, because he wasn’t about to get kicked off the team for breaking rules. We both went into Coach’s office, where he was sitting at a desk piled high with papers and schedules and equipment.

  “How can I help you, boys?” he said, barely looking up.

  I always thought of myself as a smooth talker, but by the time Anthony finished telling Coach Palmer how he wanted to help me to learn to swim, because I was afraid of water, though I wasn’t sure he needed to tell him all that, about his time as a lifeguard and how surely Coach recognized how important it was for the Negro race to enter the sport of swimming, and how I would be a DuSable Sea Horse swimmer as soon as I started high school, I was thinking if Anthony didn’t swim in college, he could definitely be a politician with a mouth like that. Coach must have thought so too because he could barely get a word in. Every time he said, “Well now…” Anthony added in something else. In ten minutes, Coach agreed to let Anthony teach me as long as my parents agreed and as long as Anthony abided by all the safety rules. When Anthony started in on how seriously he took his duty as a lifeguard, the coach just about shoved us out the door to get Anthony to stop talking.

  “And that is how it’s done, my man,” Anthony said to me outside Coach’s office, laughing as we walked back to the pool for our second lesson.

  Once we started, Anthony taught me how to bend my arms like he did for my strokes and keep all my fingers together like I was making a cup. If he wasn’t holding me up, for just a minute, I could pretend I was on the swim team too, imagining I looked like a real swimmer. Like my daddy. And I thought that all the way home and up the stairs until I opened the door and saw my momma.

  “Where have you been!” she shouted like I hadn’t heard her shout before.

  Only then did I notice how late it was. “I… was at the library,” I said soft, hating the lie as soon as it left my mouth.

  “Clemson Thurber Junior. God hates liars. I just sent your sisters out to look for you. Do you know what time it is?”

  I shook my head no.

  “Of course you don’t. Because you don’t care that I have been climbing the walls worried about where you were. That you are supposed to go the library and come straight back home. That I don’t know how—”

  “I was at the pool,” I said, looking at Momma.

  “I just told you, Clemson. God don’t like liars. First Clarisse running her mouth at teachers and now you lying? Every day I’ve got to work for those trifling white folks, knowing that I’m trying on my own to make a better way. You think this is easy for me, Clem?” Momma sat down, holding her head.

  I sat down next to her.

  “I wish your daddy were here,” she said. “I can’t do it…”

  “Momma,” I told her. “I’m not lying. I was at the pool. Learning to swim.”

  She looked at me.

  “I did lie about the library because I didn’t think you’d let me go to the high school for the swim meet by myself. But Annette has a friend there named Anthony, who is sweet on Annette, but don’t tell her I told you that part. Anyhow, he’s on the swim team, but he’s kind of the worst one on the swim team. But he likes Annette, but he also likes me too. He’s a lifeguard at the YMCA, so he would never let me drown, and Coach says if you say—”

  “Slow down, Clem,” Momma said. “Take a breath.”

  Momma always tells me that when I’m trying to get too much of a story out at one time.

  I went slower and told her everything about me seeing the swim team when she went to see the principal, and then me and Langston going to the swim meet, and then meeting Anthony. But I didn’t tell her about what Anthony asked about putting in a good word with Annette in exchange for the lessons, and him being in love and all that, but I did tell her he said he’d help me.

  Momma smiled just a little then. “And so?” she asked.

  “So what?”

  “Did you learn?”

  “Not yet,” I told her. “But I didn’t feel scared like the other times.”

  Momma leaned in and hugged me. “Your daddy would be so proud of you, Clem,” she said. “Knowing you were following in his footsteps. You are gonna make one heck of a navy man after all.”

  I held her arms and pulled back to look at her.

  “Am I like my daddy?” I asked her.

  Momma tilted her head to the side and looked at me, not answering.

  I never asked my momma much about my daddy because I didn’t want to see her sad. But one thing I knew was that I wasn’t like Langston, feeling like I was just like my momma.

  “Do I remind you of Daddy?” I asked. For the first time not caring if she got sad, but wanting, needing to know.

  Finally, she said soft, “In some ways.”

  “What ways?” Looking at Momma, I could tell she’d rather be talking about anything but what we were talking about, but I was still holding on to her arms, not letting go.

  I could see her eyes filling up. “You are funny like your daddy. He loved to laugh and joke. Too much sometimes.” She smiled a little bit. “And you are both kindhearted. Not a mean bone in your body.” I could feel something warm spreading over me, thinking that I shared a part of him my sisters didn’t. Annette wasn’t funny, and Clarisse sure wasn’t kindhearted. That was all me.

  I let go of Momma’s arms and she stood up. I don’t think she wanted to talk any more about Daddy, but I’d heard all I needed for now.

  “Thank you, Momma,” I said.

  She wiped her eyes and nodded.

  “He loved maps too,” she said, and covered her mouth, turning fast to walk into the kitchen.

  “Momma…” I didn’t follow her.

  I sat back on the couch thinking about what Momma told me about my daddy and how maybe the two of us needed time to be alone with our thoughts of him.

  FORTY-TWO

  I was sitting on the front steps of the school waiting for Langston when Errol came out. For years we spent just about every minute walking to and from school, eating lunch and out at recess, and now we acted like we barely knew each other. We always made sure to nod hello, but we were just as likely to pretend we didn’t see each other. But today, sitting on the steps, when Errol came rushing out with Roland Carter and another boy I didn’t know, I had to move out the way for them to get by. Errol and Roland nodded hello, and I nodded back. They started out across the school yard, but I saw Errol lean in and say something to Roland and then Errol doubled back. When he got to the steps, he stopped in front of me.

  “You heard about Lymon?” he said.

  “Lymon? No. What happened?” I was used to Lymon missing school for sometimes a week at a time. I noticed it more when we were the Three Musketeers. But now, spending most of my time with Langston, I barely noticed whether he was in school or not.

  “He got sent to Arthur J. Audy Home,” Errol said.

  “The juvie home?” I asked him. “Where’d you hear that?” Lymon was bad, but not Arthur J. Audy Home bad.

  “Roland’s older brother told us,” Errol said. I knew Roland’s older brother was juvie bad.

  I shook my head. “For what?” I asked him, feeling bad for not noticing he’d been missing.

  Errol shrugged his shoulders. “All right, catch you later,” he said.

  I wondered how Lymon would make it in Arthur J. Audy. If he’d finally be scared in there with boys so much bigger and meaner than he could ever be. I knew it wasn’t the fight with Langston that landed him in there, but I worried it was something worse. Every mad feeling I ever had about Lymon just disappeared then. I thought about him showing up to school beaten up and I wondered if Lymon would have to be fighting his whole life.

  I watched Errol walking away with Roland and the new boy. The new Three Musketeers.

  “Hey, you ready?” Langston asked, coming down the steps.

  “Yup, let’s go,” I said, s
tanding up.

  We started off toward Michigan Avenue and the library.

  That night at dinner, I helped Annette with the supper dishes.

  “How are your swim lessons going?” she asked me.

  “Well, Anthony’s—”

  “Clem, do not tell me a story about Anthony tonight. Please.”

  So instead of telling her all about how good of a teacher Anthony was, I told her how this week was the first time I swam without Anthony holding on to me.

  “Congratulations. You signing up for the navy next week?” Annette laughed.

  I was quiet then, with just the squeaky sound of the dish towel drying the plates.

  “Suppose I don’t want to join the navy?” I asked her. “You think Momma would be mad?”

  “Mad? Why would Momma be mad?”

  “Because she wants me to be a navy man like Daddy,” I told her.

  Annette turned off the water.

  “Clem. Momma wants you to be happy. And if that means not being a navy man, then don’t join the navy. But how do you know you don’t want to join?” she asked me.

  “Well, I know I love swimming. And I want to travel and visit all the places I see on maps. But I don’t want to fight, Annette. I don’t have it in me.”

  “Then why even bother learning to swim?”

  “I don’t know, so I’m not afraid anymore, I guess,” I said. “So I can feel brave.”

  Annette tilted her head to the side, looking at me. “You don’t have to swim to feel brave.”

  “Maybe you don’t have to swim to feel brave,” I told her. “I do.”

  Annette handed me a plate to dry. “Is this because of Daddy?” she asked.

  “I think it was at first,” I said. “Now I think…”

  Annette waited.

  “I think I’m just tired of being scared.”

  Annette nodded.

  “I know you don’t remember much about Daddy,” she said. “But as brave as he was, I’d bet you a lot of times, he was still scared.”

  “So you’re saying even if I learn to swim and join the swim team and become the top swimmer on the DuSable swim team, I could still be scared sometimes?” I asked her.

  “I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” she said, smiling.

  FORTY-THREE

  It was the first time in weeks Momma got home so early me and Clarisse were still in the kitchen doing our schoolwork.

  “Well, isn’t this a sight for sore eyes?” Momma said, putting the grocery sack on the table.

  I got up to help but Clarisse didn’t move, her face in her history book.

  “Hi, Momma,” she said, not looking up. “I have a history exam tomorrow.”

  “Well, study away,” Momma said, taking off her coat and heading back out front to hang it up.

  When she came back in she asked, “Annette’s at her club?”

  “Yup,” I answered, since I knew Clarisse wouldn’t.

  And that reminded me. “Momma, did I tell you that Anthony says he wants to swim in college?”

  “Oh?” Momma said. “You hear that, Clarisse? Anthony’s going to be a college boy. You are going to meet some fine young men when you head off to Howard University after you graduate next year.”

  “Mmmhmmm,” Clarisse said, her head still in her history book.

  “Clarisse, why do you do that every time I mention Howard?” Momma said. “I know your aunts Dorcas and Bethel talked to you about the opportunities there. With your grades, I don’t think you’d have any problem getting in.”

  “Mmmhmmm,” Clarisse said, still not looking up.

  I could see a frown starting on Momma’s face, and I knew I wasn’t going to get my schoolwork finished tonight if Clarisse got Momma all worked up.

  “Clarisse,” Momma said, trying not to sound mad, “please look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

  Clarisse looked up at Momma.

  “Is there another college you were thinking of attending?” Momma asked.

  “You mean one that doesn’t cost any money?” Clarisse said, looking Momma dead in her face.

  “What exactly does that mean, Clarisse?”

  “Last time I checked, colleges weren’t free. We can barely keep the lights on with what the Franklins pay you, how am I supposed to go to college?” Clarisse’s mouth turned up at the corners in a little smile when she finished.

  Momma breathed in deep. “Well, I never knew you were so worried about how much the Franklins were paying me, Clarisse. But if it’s money you’re concerned about, I planned to put aside the money from your father’s settlement when it comes in and use it toward college for the three of you. I think we’ll be okay if—”

  “You mean if it comes in. It’s been years, Momma. How long are you going to keep waiting?” Clarisse put her head back down and kept right on flipping through the pages of her history book. “Besides, it’s not just the money. I don’t need to go to some school all the way in Washington, D.C., just because you and your uppity sisters think I’m too good for schools in Chicago.”

  It felt like my heart stopped beating. Now things were getting too good for me to go anywhere. I put down my pencil and looked up at Momma and then at Clarisse, making sure to remember every word to tell Annette later.

  “What did you just say to me, Clarisse?” Momma asked her, soft as a whisper, which was almost worse than shouting. Then Momma did something she never does. She just about yelled, “I’m talking to you!”

  Clarisse looked up quick. “I don’t want to go to Howard or any of those fancy schools you and your sisters want me to go to. I’m going to stay right here in Chicago. Besides, I’m not leaving Ralph.”

  Momma took a deep breath and shook her head. Her voice was soft again. “Well, I don’t know who this Ralph is, but he is certainly not someone who is going to decide your future. And Howard is not just one of ‘those fancy schools,’ Clarisse. It is one of the most—”

  “Ralph is my boyfriend.”

  Momma leaned forward. I could see she was trying to keep her temper, but the way Clarisse was going tonight, I wasn’t sure how long that would last. “You are not allowed to have a boyfriend, Clarisse. Especially one who doesn’t value education.”

  “Ralph values education. He’s going to play basketball for Crane Junior College, and I promised him I’d wait for him. Right here. In Chicago.” Clarisse looked up in Momma’s eyes and smiled her Pontiac smile right in her face.

  Momma waited. I think she was praying to God she didn’t kill Clarisse with her bare hands, and I was praying right along with her. God must have answered her prayers because she kept on talking soft.

  “I was scared too when I went off to school and I only went down the street from my momma and daddy.” Momma stepped closer to Clarisse. “Going to college is the only chance you’re going to have in this world to get ahead, Clarisse, you’ve got to trust me—”

  Clarisse stood up, staring into Momma’s eyes. “How did college ever help you get ahead?” Clarisse was shouting now. “Get ahead? You mean like you? A maid?” The way Clarisse said maid sounded like she spit the word in Momma’s face.

  Momma slapped Clarisse so fast and hard I thought I was seeing things. Seeing that made me feel like I was in the school yard with Lymon and Errol and Langston and even Curtis all over again and me just sitting there watching, doing nothing. But the Clem who stood there watching in the school yard wasn’t the same Clem who got in the pool with Anthony, splashing like a fool but remembering to move my arms and kick my legs to keep me moving just a little bit more every week. It was the Clem who wasn’t brave yet but was maybe just a little bit less afraid.

  The only time I’d ever seen Momma look this mad was when Errol’s momma was in our apartment crying over what Errol’s daddy did to her. When Momma raised her hand to slap Clarisse again, I shouted, “Momma, no!” I jumped up from the table and reached out, grabbing Momma’s arm. Both Momma and Clarisse looked at me.

  “Stop,” I said. S
ofter this time, not letting go of Momma’s arm.

  Momma dropped her arm and tears ran down her cheeks. Clarisse’s too. Clarisse’s face had a red mark from where Momma had slapped her, and she reached up to touch it. I could see black makeup running down Clarisse’s cheeks all mixed in with her tears, and all I could think was that if I let go of Momma’s hand she was going to hit Clarisse extra for wearing makeup when she wasn’t supposed to.

  “If your daddy were here… ,” Momma said soft through her teeth. She still sounded mad, so I held her hand some more.

  “Well, he ain’t here, Momma! He ain’t here. He ain’t never gonna be here again.” I never knew Clarisse could cry so hard. Like the tears wouldn’t stop.

  Momma pulled her hand away from mine and went to hold Clarisse, but Clarisse pushed her away.

  “He’s gone,” Clarisse said. “He’s gone, Momma. Daddy’s gone.”

  Momma tried again to hold her, and this time Clarisse just stood still, letting Momma’s arm wrap around her. Clarisse laid her head on the front of Momma’s uniform so her cries sounded like her head was buried in a pillow. I stood and watched, wondering if there was anything I should say. But I made myself be quiet. Momma laid her head on top of Clarisse’s and they rocked back and forth, Momma rubbing Clarisse’s back and shushing her.

  We looked a mess, the three of us standing there in the middle of our kitchen. No one knowing what to say. So when Annette walked in the kitchen, we couldn’t have been happier to see her.

  FORTY-FOUR

  “Clarisse said what?” Me and Annette were in the kitchen late after Momma and Clarisse had gone to bed. I needed to tell Annette everything that happened, step by step, like we were at the motion pictures.