Cancer_Mr. Intuitive_The 12 Signs of Love

by Tiana Laveen

  “…Workin’ for the man every night and day… big wheel… keep on turnin’… proud Mary keep on burnin…” And then they joined together in their duo of, “Proud Mary” by Tina and Ike Turner.

  “We’re rollin’… rollin’… rollin’ on the river…” It wasn’t long before the song exploded and the crowd went crazy. As she moved and danced around, working the stage, she was in love with the response, in love with the song, in love with her baby who’d helped give her the confidence to admit that she wasn’t happy… that she needed more out of this thing called life!

  She wanted that chocolate cake and she got it. She needed to write that letter, and she did. She kissed her mama a million times over, because she loved her. And there was more to come. So much more. She ran on pure adrenaline as she conquered and owned that stage. Flapping her arms and moving her long legs to the rhythm, she did her best Tina Turner rendition, causing the crowd to cheer that much louder.

  At one point she even caught Cain chuckling. She was acting a plum fool, but she couldn’t help herself. She was entertaining… she was in her element… she was finally home…

  Cain finished up his set with “Two Princes,” from The Spin Doctors. He liked to leave the crowd in a good mood, so no Debbie downers. When he was done, his tip jar was flooded with cash. He and Tapestry were on stage for an extra thirty minutes due to several song requests, many of which they’d never practiced. But they winged it, and it turned out fantastic. The woman was a natural. She knew how to command the stage, how to engage the audience, and even in the midst of her at times comical antics on the stage, she showed him comfort and respect.

  He didn’t see Spinely anymore though, and had no idea where the man had gone or what he thought about his set. Still, he was satisfied. The night drew to an end, and he was still floating on cloud 9. By the time they piled into the truck, all of the equipment secured and put away, it was past four in the morning. Sitting in the vehicle with the motor running, he dumped the jar of money out into a sack he kept in the back of his rig. He counted it all out, took half, then gave her the other half of the cash.

  “Oh Cain, you don’t have to do that! I mean, this was your gig actually. I was just—”

  “No, you worked hard tonight, baby. Don’t sell yourself short. This money wasn’t just for me but it was given to you, too. You earned it fair and square. Did you see how those people love you? You’ve got an old voice in a young body. That means somethin’ to people, especially in this day ’nd age when folks are addicted to autotuned bullshit, mumbo jumbo songs where you can barely understand what the hell they’re saying, and people who couldn’t carry a musical note in a fuckin’ bucket.”

  She laughed at his words as she took her share, but he was serious. He leaned over and caressed her face, and they both just sat there, real quiet. “You did great tonight, baby…” He smiled at her, then leaned down for a kiss.

  “So did you.”

  She smiled at him, such a beautiful smile. He nodded, then pulled away from the curb. Wasn’t too long after she was fast asleep. He figured he’d take her home and get her in her apartment. She had work around ten, so a few hours of sleep would be better than none at all. Suddenly, his phone buzzed, startling him.

  “Now who in the hell would be callin’ me right now?”

  He looked at the number and saw it was Mama. In a panic, he picked it up and answered.

  Was Daddy sick? Had Mama fallen and hurt herself? She’d complained of being dizzy lately…

  “Mama…”

  “Cain,” the woman said, her voice choked up. She’d obviously been crying.

  “Mama, what’s wrong?”

  “It’s… it’s Frieda. She’s gone, Cain.” His heart dropped. He knew Mama hurt real bad, and it didn’t matter that she and Frieda barely got along. That was her big sister, and Frieda had helped raise her when their mama had gotten sick then died.

  “Mama, it’s all right… I’mma come right on over, okay?”

  “Yes. I need you, Cain. She and I… I… just, I need you.”

  “I’m comin’, Mama. I love you. Just hang tight.” He disconnected the call and busted a U-turn. Gently shaking his baby’s shoulder, he stirred her awake.

  “Mmm,” Tapestry sleepily rubbed her eye and sat up straight. “I’m home already? How long was I out?”

  “Naw, baby. We gotta go to Sulphur.”

  “Sulphur? Right now? What for?”

  “This ain’t how I imagined doin’ the introductions. This ain’t how I imagined it at all, but somethin’ bad done happened. I’m takin’ you home to Mama…”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Hate, Curses, and Hearses

  Tapestry found herself sitting at a small wooden table in a huge old galley kitchen filled with people she’d never seen a day in her life. She reflected on the fact she’d met a man, their hearts and souls had made music, and now the whirlwind romance had landed her amongst the dead… and living dead. The grief she witnessed was palpable, the energy raw and sensitive.

  Being a hospice nurse, she was used to such tense and troubling scenes, but this was a tad different because the man she loved was involved. She saw a fellow who always wore a semblance of smile with his strong arms wrapped around his weary mother, who sobbed so hard, it radiated within her like the out of tune striking of piano keys. The woman sat in the living room, on an old light blue couch with a huge, beautiful painting above it that depicted an ocean. She wore an Oriental style silk robe and cat eye black glasses. A large tourquise ring was on her right hand, and a modest wedding band on the other. Cain was on her left, and one of his brothers on the right.

  Tapestry didn’t want to intrude, so she’d given him some space.

  But she and her beloved could see one another, and every now and again, they’d toss each other a much-needed glance. Tapestry took a sip of her coffee that she’d been served by his sister Abby, who’d introduced herself earlier in their visit.

  A part of her felt odd just sitting there. She felt like moving, doing something, so she got to her feet. She began to work the room just as she did at the hospital and in homes where she’d administered home care to a patient who’d passed over. In those instances, she offered a comforting hand on a shoulder, a smile to a visitor, and even a hug to a small pajama-clad child who was looking confused and lost as he gripped a toy figurine.

  She ran into Cain’s sister once again. Abby loitered about as if she were lost, too, with a wayward look in her eyes. She glanced down at the woman’s exposed arms and took note of a few old scars that caused her pause…

  Past drug use perhaps? Cutting?

  They met eyes, and the woman quickly turned and walked away, as if her secrets were now somehow exposed. After a while, she began to take notice of a few people who were looking at her with disdain. Initially, she wasn’t certain what to make of it, and then she realized, she was the only person of color in that place. These people had a coolness in their stare—a look of detestation, not mourning. How sad to be so obsessed with such things, to the point they couldn’t even allow themselves to grieve in peace…

  Tapestry wasn’t afraid, but she was concerned because this wasn’t what she’d expected… not at all. Cain had never mentioned having feelings like that, and it never crossed her mind that if they got far enough into their relationship, she might not be accepted by his family due to her race. In fact, he only spoke positively about his folks, with the exception of his brother-in-law, Abby’s husband. Nevertheless, she believed most people were not necessarily racist, but prejudiced, because prejudice was a fact of life.

  But this? Who were these people who glared at her as if she were the scum of the earth? They whispered amongst themselves as they looked at her, and some even pointed in her direction.

  What the hell is going on here?

  The home was filling with cigarette smoke, and someone had begun to cook a breakfast, cracking egg after egg and making big plates of sliced toast. The coffee was a plenty and
the chatter kept at a minimum. Another one of Cain’s brothers was huddled in a corner, clothed in a black oversized sweatshirt and a pair of ratty jeans, his blue eyes, much like Cain’s, staring into her soul. He was the youngest one she believed… A mop of brown hair adorned his head and his expression betrayed a mixture of pain and confusion. The poor man looked turned inside out, as if he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. Not wishing to stare back, she soon found herself walking out onto the front porch to get a breath of fresh air.

  Something is goin’ on here. Cain said his mama and sister would butt heads, but this family is ripped to shreds. Maybe Aunt Frieda was more important than he’d let on. Maybe, in some way, she was the glue.

  Just then, she felt the bend of the wood on the porch and heard a man coughing behind her. She looked over her shoulder. It was Cain’s father. He studied her with intense brown eyes as he held a pipe. Then, like a breeze, he floated across the porch and stood right by her.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” she stated.

  The man nodded, took a drag from his pipe, and looked out into their front yard.

  “Thank ya. So… you’re my son’s girlfriend. Cain doesn’t bring women to his mother too often anymore… what uh time to do so. That son of mine is somethin’ else.”

  “Yes, sir, I understand your concerns. He said the timin’ wasn’t great, but I was with him when he got the call. I was in the truck so he wanted to get to his mother as soon as possible. Takin’ me home would have slowed him down.”

  The man sighed loudly, then turned to her, his expression tight and serious.

  “He told me, but I’m drawin’ a blank. What’s your name again?”

  “Tapestry, sir.”

  “Tapestry… That’s a strange name, don’t you think?”

  “I reckon it is, but I had no choice in my name, and even if I did, I rather like it.”

  At that, the man’s lips curled in a small smile.

  “All right, fair enough. Tapestry, I’m not goin’ to beat around the bush. You’re here, but I need to tell you somethin’ since there’s nothin’ that can be done about it now. It’s apparent to me that my son didn’t think this through. He was just racing over to be with his mother and he seemed to have forgotten something mighty important.”

  “I don’t understand what you mean.” She stood a bit straighter, her anxiety growing by the second.

  “Frieda’s ex-husband and children, the whole line of ’em, don’t like Black folk. I can’t necessarily say the same for Frieda—they wasn’t raised like that, but she ain’t do much to discourage it, either. Some of these family members are here, in my house right now. It’s nothin’ to play with.” His brows furrowed. “In fact, they’re card carryin’ members of a group that I refuse to even speak the name of in my own home.”

  She swallowed and her heart beat a bit faster.

  It’s worse than I thought! I’m standin’ with the Klan… Lord, Jesus…

  “I’m tellin’ you this right now in case someone says somethin’ to you… I’m certain you’ve seen people lookin’ at you, some of ’em probably not too friendly.”

  “Yes sir, I have.”

  “Well, don’t worry none about it. They won’t do anything under my roof. What kills me though is that instead of them focusin’ on their dead mama that they ain’t seen in years, they wanna get all bent outta shape about the Black woman in the house.”

  The man pointed towards his home. “This is my damn house! I told ’em if they don’t like it, they can leave. They know better than to say somethin’ to my son. Cain would rip their damn head off.” The man was going off on a tangent. Tapestry had an inkling it was more for his own benefit than hers. “They know better than to say a goddamn thang to him… so instead, I’m handlin’ it.”

  The man turned away for a brief spell, agitation in his tone, his complexion reddened. “And they all gotta lot of nerve. My wife got folks in her family that ain’t White. Ain’t none of ’em pure blood. That’s ironic and stupid! They got Creoles and Indians. Don’t matter none if they’re mostly White. If a man wouldn’t exist in this world without his ancestors, then he has to respect all of ’em. Ain’t none of ’em got a damn brain though… just like the Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz and on top of it all they’re full of hate. I don’t have time for it!”

  Tapestry gripped the porch railing a bit tighter, not even certain what to say or do.

  She’d faced more than her fair share of racism, but one of the best nights of her life was now being tainted with this bullshit. Not the death of Aunt Frieda, but all of the nastiness that went along with it. It took a lot to get her dander up, but her resolve on such issues was tried and tested.

  “I really don’t want to cause any trouble, so maybe, especially during such an emotional time, it may be best I leave.”

  The older man shoved his hand in his pocket and stood there looking down at her as if he were trying to figure out who and what she was. After an uncomfortable silence, he placed his hand on her shoulder.

  “You got just as much right to be here as anybody. I think I misspoke earlier. Cain ain’t have to bring you… he wanted to bring you. He needs you here for support. Not for him, but because he can’t stand to see his mama cry. Stay put.”

  And with that, he disappeared back inside of the house. The noisy screen door squeaked and slammed against the door frame. She kept looking at that door as if it were a lifeline, wishing he’d come back… wishing she weren’t all alone. She didn’t want to go back inside the mouth of the beast, and she didn’t want to leave. Too much was now riding on this for after a life of challenges, she’d been thrust into a surreal situation with no notice.

  Girl, you just gonna have to buck up. You ain’t got to be afraid of anybody but God.

  She took a deep breath and re-entered the dwelling. So many eyes turned in her direction. Holding her head high, she made her way over to Cain, prepared to tell him she was going back to have a seat in the kitchen. Instead, he grabbed her arm—hard. Her heart broke when she took notice of the pain in his eyes as he held his mama with the other hand. The older woman looked up at her and offered a sad smile.

  “You’re Tapestry?” the attractive middle-aged lady questioned.

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Scoot down a bit,” she told Cain’s brother. The man did so and then the lady patted the spot beside her. “Sit down right here, honey… right by me.”

  Tapestry smiled at her and did as asked. The seat was warm from where the brother had sat. Now, she was practically shoulder to shoulder with the man.

  “You hungry?” Tapestry’s heart almost skipped a beat when she felt the woman’s hand rubbing her back in slow circles.

  “No ma’am, but thank you.”

  “Mama, Tapestry was singin’ with me tonight. I wanted you to meet her and tell you all about her and the gig we did, but well, you know.”

  The woman nodded in understanding.

  “So, Cain told me just yesterday, when he missed his visit to me, that he was courtin’ a young lady.” Tapestry could suddenly hear her own breathing. She had no idea Cain had already told his mother about her existence. Interesting. “I had to press him on it, but he finally spilled the beans. I knew somethin’ was goin’ on. I talk to my boys practically every day and Cain has been missin’ in action as of late. I teased him, I always do, you know, about him not comin’ by as much as I want, but he comes by a lot. He and I are very close.”

  “Yes, he’s told me many wonderful things about you, Mrs. Johnson.”

  “And he told me a lot about you, too… You can sing, huh?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I can see why my boy is attracted to you.” The woman slowly reached out to her and caressed the side of her face, as if in awe of her skin. For whatever reason, Tapestry didn’t find this off-putting or odd. In fact, the woman’s eyes were gentle, and her touch was like a hug. His mama smelled like lavender. “You’re so pretty… and look at all
that pretty hair…”

  “Thank you.”

  “You go to church?”

  Tapestry grinned a bit wider. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “What’s your favorite Christian or gospel song, honey?”

  “Oh my, I have so many… but I’d say, ‘Mary Don’t You Weep.’”

  His mother’s smile grew. She put her hand on her leg, and Tapestry looked down at it, then patted the woman’s fingers.

  “Baby, can you sit here and sing it for me?” A tear rolled down the older woman’s face. Cain sat a bit straighter.

  “Well, I don’t see why not.” Tapestry cleared her throat. “Ohhh, Mary, Don’t You Weep…” she began. Once she’d gotten to the second verse, her love’s mama joined in, tears still flowing down her beautiful face. The woman tapped her bare foot against the floor, causing the anklet around it to shake and shimmer like chimed bells.

  Once the third verse hit, Cain joined in. Tapestry almost burst out in tears herself for they blended so well… sounded so good together. Before long, a crowd had formed around them, but they kept their eyes on one another, reaching out and holding on to each other. When the song was finished, there didn’t appear to be a dry eye in the place. Abby came forward once the crowd dispersed and took her hand.

  “Thank you for that. You’ve got a real pretty voice.”

  “Thank you, Abby.”

  Cain slowly got to his feet and grabbed his keys out of his pocket.

  “Mama, I’ll be back in a few hours, all right? I need to take Tapestry home. She’s gotta go to work this mornin’.”

  “That’s right. She’s a nurse,” the woman stated proudly, as if it in some way made her look good, too. The woman got to her feet as well, with Cain wrapping his arm around hers to help her up off the couch.

  Tapestry took notice of a slender man standing not too far away, a scowl on his angular face. Tattoos were visible all along his arms, but not nearly as beautiful as Cain’s. The man chewed, as if he had snuff in his jaw.