The doorbell rang. Who could it be? She rushed to the peephole and saw her friends, Cheryl and Dee.
“Where you guys going so early? Come on in,” she exclaimed.
“It’s not early. We’re going shopping,” Cheryl said. “Wanta come?”
“Can’t, Mama’s not home. Come on back. You guys had breakfast?”
“It’s lunchtime, girl. We’re going to the new mall out on the peninsula for lunch.”
“You can have lunch with me.”
As she heated the waffle iron, she prepared the strawberries and rewhipped the cream. “What happened at Marlborough after the game yesterday?” she asked.
“It was sad, girl. We didn’t stay there long, and Marvin didn’t stay as long as we did. Did he come by?” Dee asked.
“No.”
“Girl, you better come on back to Marlborough. Marvin is losing his cool. Those white chicks are all over him, and it’s turning his head,” Cheryl said.
“Emma, who was that fine dude you walked into the stadium with?” Dee asked. “He was with you and Marvin for a while.”
“Yeah, he was fine,” Cheryl said.
“That’s Allan Page Davis.” Emma poured batter on the waffle iron.
“Is he nice?” Dee asked.
“Super.”
“With a guy like that, I would forget Marvin,” Dee said.
“Allan and me? We’re not like that. No way. Marvin’s it.”
“Say, I’m having a party during the holidays. I want Allan to come. OK, Emma?” Cheryl asked.
“I’ll ask him.”
“And I’m having a slumber party next weekend. You’ll have to come, Emma,” Dee said. “I bet there’re a lot of fine dudes over there at Manning. Must be heaven.”
“I wouldn’t say that. There’re the Lizes and the Brendas, too. You saw what happened.”
“Aw, them. They just wanted to be noticed,” Dee said.
“That’s what I tried to tell my mother.”
“Mothers don’t understand nothing,” Cheryl said.
“Oh, yes, they do: how to make you miserable. Like I didn’t want to ask Melanie to my slumber party. Well, Mother insisted. Just because Melanie’s mother is president of Golden Slippers this year, everybody is treating her like she’s the first wife of Haile Selassie. I don’t want Melanie there,” Dee said.
“I’m not sure I should come to your party, Dee,” Emma said. “All you guys going to talk about is the deb ball, and I may not be a deb.”
“Aw, Emma, don’t say that. You gotta be one, and you better come,” Dee said.
When they finished lunch, Emma’s mother still had not returned. Emma reluctantly said good-bye to her friends. But she had to cut the parting conversation and rush to the ringing telephone.
It was Marvin. He wanted to pick her up that evening for a movie. Would she like to go?
She held her breath to stifle the squeal of delight. She finally composed herself to say softly, “I’d love that. Yes, that will be nice.” The day that she had thought would be a total disaster had suddenly become one with the most promising possibilities. Marvin was coming at six-thirty. Maybe she would give her mother a huge surprise: clean her room. Just maybe.
Six
The late fall darkness was descending early. In Emma’s living room, the pale-green velvety carpet, vacuumed to perfection, showed streaks of silver in the glow of the lamplight. Pale-green drapes closing in pale-green walls lent a luxurious comfort to the room. How glad Emma was her father had agreed to a settlement that left her and her mother in this nice house.
She tossed her mink-brown leather jacket over a chair and sat, wiggling, trying to settle more comfortably in her tight jeans as she waited for Marvin. She adjusted her belt. “Oh, darn!” She had broken a fingernail. “My longest one,” she muttered.
She rushed to her room to try to save it with Nail-Fix-It. Just as she opened the bottle, Marvin blared his car horn. Startled, she spilled the glue and her fingers all stuck together. “Mama, bring the alcohol, quick. I need it.”
“Why doesn’t Marvin come in?” her mother asked as she cleaned Emma’s fingers with a swab of cotton. “If he had any respect for you, he’d ring the doorbell so you’d know who’s calling. Anybody could be out there blowing.”
“I know Marvin’s horn,” Emma said. “Hurry. I’m late.”
“If he’d come in, you’d have time to compose yourself.”
“Aw, Mama, you must know there’re a thousand girls out there who would die for the chance to ring Marvin’s doorbell, take him out, and pay his way anywhere. He’s picking me up and taking me out. That’s respect enough for me.”
“Watch it, now. Don’t let yourself become accustomed to being so grateful for nothing. You have money in your purse? Change for a phone call?” her mother asked, following Emma.
“Yes.” Emma grabbed her jacket and purse, blew her mother a kiss, and dashed out still putting on her jacket.
“Have fun and be in here by midnight,” her mother called after her.
The little Scirocco, though more than seven years old, was shining at the curb. Emma was often amused at the amazed look on faces as Marvin’s six-foot-six frame unfolded out of the little car. Though Marvin was a bit cramped in it, Emma loved having all the room she needed to stretch her long legs.
“I thought one time there I’d have to go on without you,” Marvin said as she scrambled into the car.
“I wasn’t that long.”
“Next time be waiting on the curb.”
“No, next time you ring my doorbell.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. The car screeched away from the curb.
“I’m glad you called,” she said.
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“The way you deserted me yesterday, yes.”
“I was disappointed in you yesterday. But to show you’re forgiven for deserting me, I’m going to let you choose what we’ll see tonight—Superman, Star Wars, or Fame.”
“Suppose I say Grease?”
“No, one of those three.”
“OK, Fame.”
“Aw, Em.”
“Well, what did you want to see?”
“Fame. Ha, ha, ha. Now, if you’re nice, I might take you to a party I’m invited to after the movie.”
They were silent as they drove through busy streets to the freeway. Emma glanced at Marvin. His light-blue shirt was open at the collar under a navy cashmere V-neck pullover. His thin gold-chain bracelet shone in the light of the dashboard as he kept his hand steady on the wheel.
Emma let her hand touch his knee. He looked at her and smiled. Her heart pounded and she gave in to the sweet turbulence. With her head resting on the back of the seat, she closed her eyes and let the sheer bliss of being with Marvin course through every inch of her.
They left the movie huddled together, singing in off-key harmony,
I’m gonna live forever.
I’m gonna learn how to fly.
I’m gonna make it to heaven …
“You want to learn how to fly?” Marvin asked. “I’ll teach you how to fly at this party.”
“Oh, so you think I’m nice, eh?”
He looked at her and grinned.
It was not yet nine-thirty, so they had almost three hours before midnight. Marvin drove the winding road up into the New Highland Hills. In the distance the city was aglow. After she had discovered the wonders of heaven at camp, she had often wondered why stars were so hard to see in the city. Now, as she looked upon that dazzling view, she thought, The stars with all their glory are paled by those lights. If only one could have both.
The view ended abruptly and the car dove into a sheltered area of a private parking space made of heavy planks. The house was almost hidden in tangled vines beyond a flight of steps that led down into a ravine. Marvin held Emma’s hand as they walked below, singing, “I’m gonna learn how to fly.”
The place, although lighted outside, appeared dark and lifeless inside. “You
sure there’s a party here?” Emma asked.
“I’m sure. And don’t flake out now when we get in there, OK?” Marvin rang the doorbell and they waited.
“Try again,” Emma said.
“Patience, it’ll happen.”
When they had waited for what seemed to Emma a long time, Marvin gave two quick rings. Immediately, they were let in. Dim lights softened the all-white room. There still was no sign of a party as a tall young man guided them through to a stairway that led below.
They entered a room and Emma felt as though she had entered a storm. Black, purple, and pink strobe lights distorted images and gave Emma a sensation like that of moving under water.
As her eyes adjusted, she saw two stereos going simultaneously so that at no time would the room be without sound. Even though there was a monitor at the mixer to synchronize light and sound, the lights and music seemed at war.
People stood in small knots around the room, inhaling deeply, then sharing the joint. Some seemed to float and jerk toward her and Marvin with squeals of delight. She suddenly realized that Marvin was being mobbed by his white friends. The odors, the noise, and Marvin’s frenzied welcome all heightened her uneasiness, so she sought out a room where she could reassure herself that she looked all right. She took off her fitted jacket and adjusted her silk blouse in her jeans, then stood before a mirror and checked her makeup. Her long, straightened hair, slightly flipped on the end, with bangs across her forehead, was neatly in place. Her brown eyes sparkled. She was pleased with the way she looked, but unhappy with the quivering of her insides. If only there were some other Blacks out there.
“Marvin, I thought you’d never get here. What took you so long?”
Emma heard the soft demanding voice when she reentered the room.
“Maybe the jive-turkey got lost.” Emma recognized Danny. Who but Danny, that showoff from Marlborough, would be spouting such outdated talk, Emma thought and laughed.
“He couldn’t get lost. He could find my house in his sleep,” the girl said.
Who is this girl, holding Marvin around the waist, looking into his face as though she has found answers to all of her questions? Emma wondered. Seeing them, Emma at first felt anger, then she sensed a peculiar shame. She waited.
It was Danny who first noticed Emma in the room. “Well, if it isn’t our Emma,” he said with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Hey, man,” he shouted to Marvin, “how do you rate a chick like this?”
“She’s not a chick,” Marvin said, pulling Emma into the circle that had mobbed him. Enfolding her, he drew her backward into his arms. “I want you to meet my lady,” he said in his quiet, calm way. There was silence. For a moment, Emma lost her anger, the uneasiness, and felt secure.
“Come to the table.” The girl who had been so close to Marvin took Marvin and Emma by the hand. Emma suddenly recognized the girl. Kali.
The bright red blouse Kali wore made her dark-tanned skin look almost bronze. Her long hair, now blonde streaked, also had a perm with tensive rings that gave a wild but attractive look. She was taller and thinner than Emma remembered, and she was no longer the demure girl who had held Marvin’s hand at vesper.
“I’m so glad Marv brought you along,” Kali said to Emma. “This is my last fling before my mother returns from Europe. Stick around.”
Emma did not miss the sarcasm. The nerve of Marvin, she thought, bringing me to her house, of all places. The anger she had felt returned. As they came closer to the table set with covered, heavy silver serving dishes, Emma noticed a fancy keg with beer on tap. The effects of Kali’s affectionate stance with Marvin destroyed Emma’s desire for food; however, the table looked inviting. Maybe there were goodies under those covers worth nibbling.
Emma was stunned when she uncovered qualudes, pink hearts, and black beauties—uppers, downers, speed—all for the choosing. Other dishes offered solid, well-rolled joints and small squares of something that looked like dirt; and there was a small crystal dish of what looked like sugar with small spoons. Emma’s anger turned to fear and she knew she had no business in that room.
She turned away from the table. The lights, the smells, the eternal music, and now the fear made her feel caged. What if she were caught here? Her mother would die, and her father would kill her.
Marvin sensed something was wrong and followed her immediately.
“Marvin, I’m ready to go,” she said.
“The party hasn’t started yet, baby. I promised that we’re going to learn how to fly. Remember?”
“I’m not sure I can learn. Let’s go.”
He wrapped her in his arms and let his cheek rest on the top of her head. “Listen, you my woman?”
Emma felt as though she were melting inside. Quickly she moved her head, forcing his cheek off, and looked up into his eyes. “Don’t ask me that now. Not here. I’ll answer that when we’re alone.”
“We are alone. I’m alone. You’re alone. We’re alone.” He drew her closer. “You’re my woman, so you’ll stay,” he whispered in her ear, “until we’re ready to go.”
“Feast time, feast time,” Kali called as she danced around the room with the crystal bowl and little spoons. Everybody followed her to the center of the room and gathered around as she placed the bowl on the floor.
Marvin took Emma’s hand to lead her toward what was becoming a large circle. Emma knew she could not be a part of that. Suddenly she pulled away and ran up the steps.
Marvin followed. “Em, what’s wrong?” He grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just can’t.”
“What you mean, you can’t?” Then he softened, “If you’re my woman, you’ll learn.”
“Oh, please, Marvin. You know I care about you. Why do I have to prove it in that way? Let’s go.”
“I’m not ready yet. So relax.” He held her close and rubbed between her shoulders.
She pulled away. “I don’t know your super-rich friends. I’m going home.”
“How”?
The thought of having to call her mother almost made her panic. To call her father would be even worse. She remembered the money in her purse and was grateful that her mother always insisted upon it being there. “I’ll call a cab,” she said.
They waited in the quiet of the upper room. Emma sat on the edge of the white sofa, her feet deep in the soft, velvety-white carpet, trying to cope with her feelings. She loved Marvin. Maybe she shouldn’t leave him—but that room below, those people, were just too much for her.
Finally the cab came. Marvin helped her in and instructed the driver to take her home. He pressed the fare into the driver’s hand. Emma protested, but Marvin waved them on and the cab pulled away.
All the way home she tried not to think; she tried to drown her thoughts in the beautiful lights, but they no longer charmed her. The questions she did not want to answer surfaced again and again. How could Marvin dare take me to that place? Why did I “flake out” and leave him there? Why couldn’t I be at ease and take just one whiff? Just one. What harm could that do? Oh, Marvin, she cried to herself, why couldn’t you bring me home? Why did we have to go to that kind of party, which is no party at all?
Her mother was still up. “Emma, you’re home early.” Her mother was surprised.
“Not that early,” Emma said, trying to appear nonchalant.
“It’s only five after eleven.”
“Then you can get a good night’s sleep.” Emma did not want to get too close to her mother for fear the odor of that room might be in her clothes, in her hair. So she said, “I had a great time. Good night, Mama.”
She lay in her bed, going over every detail of the evening. She felt cheated. Why had she been afraid? Suddenly in her mind’s eye flashed the words: Emma Walsh arrested in dope raid. “Oh, my God,” she said aloud. And all the fear she had tried to contain overwhelmed her. She knew that she wanted to see Marvin again, but she was relieved to be home in her bed.
Seven
Emma awoke
early the next morning remembering the relief she had known just before falling asleep. Now, as she thought of last night and of Marvin, the anger and hurt returned.
Had her mother gone through that with Jody—being at the same parties, at the same places? Of course not! Marvin’s not my husband … he’s a free agent. But he’s as much mine as he is Kali’s. But what did Kali mean: Marvin can find his way there in his sleep. Is she in that house all by herself? But he took me! She thought of Marvin in Kali’s embrace. If only I could be that way, adoring Marvin in front of people like that. Again she could see Kali’s arms around Marvin; she knew the anger and shame she felt then was similar to the anger she felt when she first saw her father and Jody embracing. Could what happened to her mother be happening to her?
Suddenly she threw off the cover, got out of bed, and bounded around the room. “Forget Marvin,” she said as she started putting things in order.
She pulled shoes from under the bed, hung up clothes that had been strewn around all week. She knew she had to keep busy or she would break down and cry. She restacked records, organized her tapes, threw away old papers, made her desk neat, and put all of her magazines orderly in the rack her mother had insisted she use.
Then she changed her linen, made her bed, and finally was ready to vacuum. She didn’t want to wake her mother so she took a minute to survey her results. She had forgotten how the soft yellow walls and the yellow print curtains at her windows gave such a warm feeling. The white desk and built-in shelves that held her record player, typewriter, books, and other odds and ends had emerged from all the clutter to give her comfort and courage to adjust posters that had been thrown up haphazardly. She decided to keep Michael Jackson; to take down Teddy Pendergrass and put Stevie Wonder in his place. Wouldn’t her mother be pleasantly surprised?
She sat on the side of her bed feeling good about herself, wishing she had some way to make Marvin feel that she was special, too. The debutante ball would do just that. He would certainly take her. They would have all of that evening and an early morning breakfast. But what if the Golden Slippers refused her? They can’t, she reassured herself.
Because We Are Page 4
