The Stars and the Blackness Between Them

by Junauda Petrus

  “Mabel, I hope you is here forever and ever. I pray about it and I ain’t giving up. But if you must go, can I ask you something?”

  “What, Audre?”

  “If you could visit me sometimes? I’m going to miss you so much. Could you figure out a way to show up in a dream and chill with me?” Her eyes fill up, and mine are filling up too.

  “This might be weird to say, Audre, but I would be checking for you a lot, a lot, if I become an ancestor. I’ll have your back and show up in your dreams and shit,” I say, and start laughing through my tears. For a moment, I’m not afraid to die. Like I would be okay if I would still be able to be a part of her life, even if I was leaving mine. I’m going on to be something else, even if I don’t know what that is, at least I will always be a part of this family. I will always be Mabel, in some form, in some universe.

  “Yuh betta show up in my dreams them, or I’ll be real vex, yuh understand?” I don’t know if it’s the weed or the lateness of the evening, but Audre’s accent is more splashy and reckless and she is killing me softly and I think if I have to die, let it be softly. In her arms, in her smell, in her gap.

  “Audre, can I ask you a weird question?” I say to her, and she perks up and looks at me. And I look at her for a while and it’s kind of awkward.

  “I would like to kiss you one day if you’re into it,” I blurt out.

  “Mabel.” She pinches her eyes closed and then opens them. She smiles. “Gyal, you know that is a statement, not a question, right?” She smiles and slowly brings her lips to mine. They are so soft, and I’m so hungry for them, I gasp for air, seeking her with my own lips. We embrace each other in a new way, but with a desire I’ve had since I saw her eat raspberries in Black Eden. We kiss for a while and at first I wonder if I’m good but she seemed into it so I just let myself enjoy kissing Audre.

  “You want to do more than kissing, Mabel?”

  “I do. Are you into that?” I ask her.

  “Can I help you take your clothes off?”

  I smile and nod yes.

  She lays me down on the couch, climbs on top of me, and unbuttons me and she moves so slow, I close my eyes and take it in. I wanna remember every second of it. With her help, I unlayer her. We are under the blankets and wrapped up in each other. She kisses every part of me, from the top of my du-rag, my earlobes, eyelids, collarbones, and my breasts and thighs, she kisses me like she has wanted my body too. I feel full and alive with every kiss. I need all of her touches. I moan for pleasure instead of pain, I somehow can accept feeling good, even in my sickness. She is so soft. She straddles above me and allows me to touch her. I slide my hands along her waist. Her thighs. Her thick thighs. I just wanna worship her body forever. I kiss her thighs and kiss and lick and suck on her nipples. It’s beautiful and I’m shaking before I calm down. We are keeping each other warm. I feel healed in other ways I didn’t know could exist. The fire is rippling quietly in the room. The snow is falling on a big beautiful lake outside. And I melt right there. I die, right there, the sweetest disappearing into her. All night and into the early morning.

  MABEL

  IT’S A WARM SPRING DAY and I’m under the lilac bush in Black Eden and it smells like spring, soft and sweet and like fresh earth. My dad has made me a little spot in his garden with sleeping bags and comforters and pillows where I usually would do dreamo sessions with Audre. He is doing spring things. Breaking dirt with pitchforks and shovels, thinning out predictable perennials that return every year, lilies, mint, hostas, and more. They are either to be composted or replanted in some other garden. He thoughtfully digs out each plant and places them in a pile to be sorted into their destinies. André 3000 is prowling around the plants and stumbles upon me in the process. She sniffs my comforter right where my feet are and then hits it with her paw. She then walks up my body and smells my face, very gentle and curious. After approving, she snuggles up next to my neck.

  When we got back to Minneapolis, Mom and Dad were waiting to tell me about Life Wish. An envelope with details on the plan for me and Afua arrived right after we left for the lake.

  “We didn’t want to interfere with you and your homies’ trip,” my mom explains as we read the contents of the envelope together. It explained our meeting with Afua. We would get to spend a couple hours with our families in Coney Island in New York. We would be provided with a furnished apartment in Brooklyn and transportation while we are there and a food budget. Reading it was unreal. It wasn’t what I wanted or what he deserved but I was grateful and moved deeply inside, anyway.

  “Can Audre come?” I asked.

  “Yes, baby.”

  “Without a doubt.”

  I have probably read the letter seven times a day, processing that I was going to Coney Island to meet Afua. Where The Warriors was made, Coney Island! It seems like a weird place to meet, but the fact that we meeting at all is straight-up weird. I close my eyes and feel good to be wrapped and swaddled up in my dad’s garden; the breeze is cool and sweet on my face and I feel protected by his green majesty that he has created for his family and his community—and maybe his own peace of mind, as a Black man who has been through a lot. Black Eden is our church, our temple, and our place to feel safe. I open my eyes. André 3000 has vanished again, and I see my dad looking at me, smiling with sweat on his brow and tears streaming down his face.

  “Hey, Dad, is everything, okay?”

  “Yes, honey. I was just remembering something from when you was a baby, something about your face when you was sleeping reminded me of it.” He leans his shovel on a nearby tree and walks over to my garden bed and sits next to me by the lilacs. He rubs my du-ragged and shaved head.

  “What was it?”

  “How when you was a baby, I would put you in a laundry basket, because you hated your car seat. I would fill it with blankets and toys and I would walk you to the basketball court to show you off to my homies.” I close my eyes and turn to his voice, envisioning my baby self.

  “All of these sweaty-ass brothers would stop they game and coo-coo with you and ask if they could feed you and sang you songs when you would get baby frustrated and cry. My perfect baby girl.” He smiles through his tears, and pulls his handkerchief out and dries his forehead and cheeks and I snuggle my body toward his direction, taking in this story of my baby life.

  “Me and your mama learned how to wrap babies up with fabric from Mrs. Roma, a Ghanaian woman who lived in our old apartment building who used to watch you too. After we learned how to do that, you refused to be carried any other way,” he says laughing and with more tears gliding down his face.

  “Dad?”

  “Yes, Mabel?”

  “Would you lay down and smell the lilacs with me? It’s kinda dope.”

  He pauses and then nods as he lies on the earth close to me, a little awkward at first, but then I feel him get more comfortable. We lie there just quiet and breathing with the earth beneath us and under a canopy of greenery I helped make with him. An improvised dreamo treatment, one to help my father and his feelings about life.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever actually just laid my ass out in this garden.”

  “It’s nice, hunh?”

  “Yes, just peaceful. I need to do this more often.”

  We lie there and are still for a while. I’m connected to him in a way that, I guess, I always felt. Just something in us feels the same, even though we are different and don’t always understand each other. One thing I have always felt from my dad is his love.

  “Mabel?”

  “Yes, Dad?”

  “I think this is my new favorite spot in the garden.”

  “It’s bomb, right? I love it, too. Dad? I don’t know how you are going to take this,” as I say this I feel him tense up and take a deep breath. I look over at him and his eyes are filled with tears, just like mine. I look at my father’s eyes, which look like mine
. I take a moment and continue on.

  “But, Dad, if you ever miss me, wherever my spirit goes, if you come to this spot in Black Eden, I’ll try to be with you.”

  His face crumples as he brings the fabric to his face to capture the wetness of tears pouring out. I grab my handkerchief from my hoodie pocket, wipe my face, and then kiss him on his bald and shiny forehead, like me, Mom, and Sahir do.

  “Okay, Mabel, I will, baby, I will,” he says through sobs cracking his voice slightly.

  “And something else too, Dad.”

  “Yes, honey?”

  I take a deep breath and say what for some reason I really needed to tell him.

  “I’m in love with Audre. We are both in love.”

  He looks at me and nods. I can’t tell what he feels right away.

  “Baby, I know.”

  “Really? How do you know?”

  “When you first got sick, that girl would be over here taking care of you in ways I could never know you needed. I see her love for you and I’m happy. You deserve it, baby.” He kisses me on my forehead.

  “And when she would be around your eyes would light up, like mine do when I see your mama. That’s when I knew. Terrell never lit your eyes up —unless he came through with some cookies or a shake or something for you to eat. Poor Terrell,” he says, laughing.

  “Dad, I really like cookies.” I laugh too.

  “I know, baby. Thank you for telling me about you and Audre. I know I ain’t as cool and down as your mama, but I love you more than the universe can hold, Mabel. Love is sweet and I’m glad you got someone who you love and loves you back,” he says and starts singing.

  “It’s so gooood, loving somebody, when somebody loves you back,” he croons out into the trees of Black Eden.

  “Dad, you can low-key sing good you know?”

  “For real, sweetpea? Your mama would say that too. I used to sang in church choir, back in the day you know.”

  “I mean you ain’t quite at Luther status yet, but you can hit some notes,” I say.

  “Dang, baby girl, you had me thinking I sounded like a young Teddy,” he says.

  “Dad, I said you got low-key skills. I love your voice. Keep singing.”

  “Okay. Hmmm. How about some Stevie?”

  I nod, and he starts singing.

  He sings the song “As” into the spring air, and I doze off on a raft of his shy but earnest baritone.

  AUDRE

  I IS IN MY ROOM, folding up my clothes, when my dad knocks on my door.

  “Come in,” I say.

  “Hey, honey.” He walks in with a package.

  “Something just came in the mail for you from Trinidad.” He hands it to me. It is from Queenie, sent express. She ain’t say she was sending anything, but I’m happy with the surprise treat. He leaves me alone in my room to enjoy my special delivery. I swear I can smell she in the paper, and I always grateful to get a shell or a rock from home or something sweet she make for me—or maybe a little thing from Epi and Sarya. When I open the package, I see she send pone that she make, some fever-grass tea, tamarind balls, and then I see a note from Queenie attached to a letter . . . from Neri.

  Audre,

  I finally receive something. I sent it right away. I didn’t want to tell you, because I know you wouldn’t have sleep or eat until you receive it. And of course, I had to make sure to send you a little taste from home, or else you would feel I ain’t love you. Love you, baby. I hope the news is good. I pray it is.

  Love, Queenie

  My breath feel like it scared to come out my body, I is so shook. My stomach is mashing and dipping, my hands and underarms are sweating, and I shaking trying to open the letter. I been wanting to hear about Neri so long that I accepted I probably would never hear from her. I look at she handwriting and feel a gush of feeling drench me as I open up the letter.

  Audre,

  I praying that you get this letter. I trust Queenie will get it to you somehow. How are you, my Audre? Is your father and America being good to you? I hope that you are happy and free. I miss you so much, it terrible. “Audre” is my favorite sound. I feel like whenever I is walking in the bush or by the water, I hear your voice or a wind that say your name. Audre, I feel like it been many moon and many years since I see you.

  I safe now, but where I was sent was terrible, and I almost don’t want to tell you what I been through because I don’t want you to be sad for me. The blessing is that I’m safe now and have met people who is like us and have save me. For a while, I feel like I wasn’t gonna survive the tabanca that live in my spirit from since our last day by the sea. Every day, I wake up, and think of us by the water and our love and also that moment when your mom snatched you from me. I ain’t never feel more powerless than when I couldn’t save you.

  My grandfather bring me on the ferry to Tobago early one morning. Between the rocking of the boat and he silence toward me, I feeling sick and cracked in my own body and yet also somehow I feeling numb, like all of the feelings in my body run away and hide from me.

  When we reach to Tobago, an older cousin of his, Tantie Lynn, who live there pick us up and bring us to she house in the hills. She a old woman, who tall and strong, and had on a navy dress with hard black shoes. She greet me good evening without barely looking at me. When we reach she home, I ain’t know what they talking about but I know they settling on a plan for me. My grandfather hand me over and said bye, and she son go to drop he back to the ferry and that was it. Like I not he blood, like I a problem he finally get rid of. I ain’t hear from him since. And I swear this woman he leave me with, Tantie Lynn, take pleasure in punishment. After he leave, she tell me that she will correct my sickness and run the demon of perversion out of me and that, thanks to she, one day, I will get married and have children and be a good Christian wife and mother.

  This is the part I hate remembering, but I feel I must tell you. Early the next morning, Tantie Lynn wake me up and tell me to kneel down and pray. Prayers I know my whole life, but they is feeling like unfamiliar curses in this context. She hands is strong and gripping my shoulders and she is holding me, all the while praying to get this demon out of me. And I thinking, How could they call loving you anything demonic? Whose God is this? She shake me and pouring water on my head and forcing me to pray away my sinning and save my soul. And then, the rest of the day, me cleaning she house with she and working on she land and cooking for she and she son, who live there too but barely acknowledge me. Then again at night we reciting scriptures until it time to sleep. It go on for weeks and some months like this.

  Audre, this part I is not proud of, but I steal from Tantie Lynn purse late one night and break out. I dress up in my school uniform and walk miles in the middle of the night, all the way to the ferry. I was on the first ferry back to Trinidad that morning. Once I reach Port of Spain, I take a minibus to Saint Augustine, where my cousin Brenda go to school. I ain’t have a plan, except I hope she will let me stay with she, until I could find a job and a place for myself. I hanging out in the library, I walking around the campus, and trying to figure out how I can find she. I eat a doubles a day and saving my money. I washing myself in the bathrooms. I find places to tuck up and sleep on campus. For three days I do this. I walking all day until it reach night. I asking around and no one knows my cousin Brenda. On the fourth day, I head to town to try and find something to eat and figure out a plan.

  When I reach town, I see a spot selling doubles with a big line. When I get into the line, I see a girl keep looking back at me, like she know me. She skin dark and she got a long dark ponytail down she back. She got a sweet smile. I don’t know she, so I ignore she. Then she tap she friend to look at me and he smile too, and I ignoring the two of them. Then they both come to me and say they see me at that party last week at Heaven’s Gate and that she name is Ingrid and that he is Dragon. I say that
wasn’t me and if that place is a church, and they start laughing and telling me, no, it’s a gay dance club in town. I shock that there is a place for people who is gay and even more shock that they think they see me there.

  And, Audre, all of this emotion well up in me and overflow out and I start to cry like I crazy. Right there, in front of these strangers. Ingrid take me to sit down under a tree from everyone and send Dragon to get we doubles and Stag beer. For the next two hours, I tell them everything about you, what happened to us, Tobago, and how I came to Saint Augustine to find my cousin, who I ain’t been able to find. At that point I ain’t care what they think, I just needed to tell my story. I ain’t care that I look like some crazy schoolgirl. Dragon tell me he was kick out of his house too when he was young and that I was going to be fine. Ingrid tell me she accept she love women when she reach university. Ingrid say that she and Dragon live in a place called the Rose Maroon house, not far from the doubles stand with some other queer kids, and I could stay with them until I figure my stuff out.

  Besides Ingrid and Dragon, there are two other kids who live here. Dragon’s boyfriend, Mark, and Teresa, who is the oldest in the house and was rejected by her family when they found pictures of her dressed as a woman. She used to repress who she really was for her family, pretending to be a man, like they see her to be, but she say she always knew she was a woman. After the pictures were found, they told her if she ever dressed like a woman they would kill her. She left that night and stayed with friends until she found this house. All five of us is like family, the first family I really ever feel I have.

  Right now, I is working for the landladies of the house who live upstairs, Ms. Roslyn, who is a professor, and Ms. Hosana, who is a seamstress, helping them with sewing and different odds and ends, while I try to figure out what I will do next. They are in their sixties and is like us too. They say I can stay here as long as I need. These people saved my life, Audre. They help me feel like I deserve to live and be myself and I ain’t have to be ashamed for how I love.