At that point, I dared to tell her I had been at the club the night Willie, Ms. Pearl’s husband, was gunned down by the white man whom Ms. Pearl is often seen with. For some unforeseen reason, he pulled out a gun and shot Willie. I will always believe it was because he loved Ms. Pearl so much; after all, she was Willie’s wife. I would never let her know about Simon and me crawling on the floor praying to get out of there without harm. My momma was not the type of person you could tell much to, and no matter how much we talked, there were still many things I knew that with all her wisdom, she could not handle.
“You do whatever you want, Chile, but I am not going to keep the baby.”
Her words were solid. I shook my head and clucked my tongue. She was now acting like the Jefferson County momma, the one who lived in a small space and only saw things from one point of view.
All evening she stared at me with an evil eye as I ironed the dress I was wearing to the club. Momma didn’t say anything, and yet occasionally, I’d hear her make a comment under her breath. “She need to keep herself right here with you, little boy,” she said to Robert, and he returned a smile as if he knew what she was talking about.
Momma sat in the soft chair in the bedroom, and sank her head back into the pillow. Occasionally, she would peek over at me laying out my skirt and blouse and shake her head. I couldn’t fathom what was so bad about going to hear one of the most famous singers of all times. Folks were going to be there from all the counties around, even Washington, D.C.
“Momma, would you like to come with me?”
“Chile, I have told you. I ain’t going to hear nothing Pearl Brown is singing. Now, if Bessie Smith was at a club alone, I probably would consider going just once. I don’t like clubs and places like that. The people that hang in there are from the low places on this earth. They come in there to find a solution to their problems by drinking and acting a fool.”
“The rumors are she is going to stop in the place where Ms. Pearl performs, and they might do a song together.”
“I am so tired of hearing Pearl’s name. Now, Carrie, I told you I am not going to see about no chile while you are out tonight.”
I glanced over at her and shook my head. “No, Ma’am. Mrs. Hall is going to watch him for me. You will have the house all to yourself. “
“I can’t believe you going down there with those people. Chile, you just don’t want to learn. You are even foolish enough to take Robert downstairs for the night. You are not the same chile I raised to have good values and manners. You act like you ain’t never been to church.”
“Momma, I am going with Hester. If you want to go, you can. Please stop putting Ms. Pearl down. She was not by herself, and you know Mr. Camm was the real problem. I am a good girl, Momma!”
Immediately, Momma started to hum. She often did it when she was tired of what she was hearing. I knew she was tired, and so was I. She had a negative attitude about everybody but that awful Herman Camm. It was probably the reason it took me so long to tell anybody about what he was doing to me. I was afraid she would not believe me, and it turned out she didn’t.
Hester met me at 7 p.m. I was dressed up. I had on my dropped waist skirt and white blouse, silk stockings, cinnamon-pressed powder on my face, and a shiny red lipstick. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. I liked the way face powder made me look. I looked older and more mature, and the tiny pimple on my cheek was barely noticeable. I felt beautiful. I had learned how to apply the powder from Miriam. She always wore it to class with a little lipstick.
Going away to school had been great for me. I had learned how to blend in with the other women. I no longer stuck out in the crowd as the little country girl wearing the potato sack skirts and hair locked in braids. I now looked like everybody else. I rolled my hair every night with strips from a brown paper sack, or I would put a few pin clips in it. Miriam had said the face powder and new hair style enhanced my appearance, even though she thought I was naturally cute.
It was strange meeting Hester, my best friend, instead of Simon. He had been gone for a long month now. Every day I expected him to return home. I had spent the morning sitting in the bay window gazing out at the blowing trees, expecting to see Simon drive down the street. Of course he didn’t ever show up. I supposed whatever had his attention was more important than Robert and me. Tonight I would let the rich sounds of Bessie Smith and Pearl Brown take my mind away from thinking about Simon. Every time I peered across the street at Nadine’s house, it appeared lifeless, and I wondered if she was home or still in the company of my husband. I hoped I would never catch them.
Hester was standing on the corner waiting for me with her arms crossed. She stood propped up against the building facing the side of the nightclub. She was spiffy, dressed in a peach-colored dress, nude silk stockings and her long hair loose and curled on the ends. Her face was gleaming from the pressed powder and rouge. Actually, she looked like a grown woman and she had the attention of a man standing across the street who aimed to get her attention by whistling at her. She just stood there smiling. I felt we both appeared older than usual. Lipstick and pressed powder had that effect on most women.
When Hester wrote to tell me she was moving to Richmond from Washington, D.C., my eyes lit up. She had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. She was the one person I trusted with most everything. Having her in Richmond was the best thing that could have happened to me, and she moved right around the corner. She had this way of looking out for me, as if she was the older sister, although we were the same age. I could remember the way she reacted when I finally told her I was pregnant. She immediately went into action trying to help me figure a way out of my situation. After she left Jefferson County, she would write me, encouraging me to get out of Jefferson as soon as I could. “The world is so much bigger. When you get away from country Jefferson County, you will finally be able to spread your wings. I am so glad I’m gone,” she wrote.
So as we walked side by side down the street toward the club, I felt a burst of confidence having her with me. Men tipped their hats and we glanced at each other, giggling because of the admiration. One man whistled, and we both turned our heads. When we made it to the club, we both hesitated and smiled. We were finally doing some of the things we’d quietly planned in primary school.
Cars of all sorts pulled up to the entrance of the club—Studebakers, Model T’s and Buicks. People got out dressed nicely from head to toe. The men had on suits and Fedoras, and the women were dressed in chiffon dresses and silk hose. Hester and I were dressed exactly the same way. We found a place in the line, and anxiously waited to go in. We all patiently waited to get a seat and to engage in what was supposed to be the best show ever held in Richmond. The whispers about Bessie Smith coming had everyone excited to get a glimpse of the woman whose success Ms. Pearl Brown wanted to imitate.
Everything appeared normal. The same people I’d seen in the club before were seated in their favorite places. This Saturday, it was extra crowded. I’d overheard one man say folk were being turned around at the door. Hester and I were happy to be early. We took special notice in watching the people arrive and seeing the types of fashions the women wore. We sat in the middle, halfway to the front of the stage. I liked being close to the door too. We could see who came and left without anybody noticing we were being nosy. I also felt safer knowing I could get out quickly in case a brawl broke out. There were no more available tables, just folks standing around the perimeter of the wall, most of them smiling and chatting about how they would be able to recognize Bessie when she came through the door. One man exaggerated saying she was nearly six feet tall. Everybody knew about the tough woman with the electrifying voice. We believed she was better than Ma Rainey. However, our Pearl Brown was up-and-coming. Folks said she was prettier and better than Bessie, and could outsing her as well.
“I’m so glad we decided to come here,” Hester said, rotating her hat brim, making sure it was perfect. It was sassily tilted to th
e side.
“It is crowded tonight. Everybody is here,” I said, glancing around and gauging the crowd.
“Did you ever go to a club in D.C.?” I asked Hester.
“No, I never did. John never took me to one, and women are not supposed to be seen in them alone.”
“I’m glad you are in Richmond now. I’ve never been here without Simon. He is the one who told me about this place. It is a bit eerie being here without him. But I see plenty of women in here alone.”
“I’ve been to the theater by myself,” Hester said. “It was a bit boring compared to this.”
The music was louder than normal. The tiny quartet stood on stage playing while the crowd moseyed in and took their seats. It was packed to capacity, the bartender rushing from one side of the bar to the other filling their drinks. The excitement was elevated. People were fidgety, moving from place to place. Several men walked around the perimeter as if they had been paid to keep watch. All of us were so anxious, we could not keep still. So eyes darted from place to place trying to be the first to catch a glimpse of Bessie, Pearl or both. The normal, dull mirror behind the bar was sparkling clear; even the patrons seated at the bar could get a good look at them coming toward the stage. After a short while, Pearl strutted from the back of the room up to the stage and grabbed the microphone. The crowd roared at the sight of her. The men stood smiling like Cheshire cats and began clapping so loudly, the palms of their hands were red. She acknowledged their applause, and held her hand out to the crowd. The applause grew stronger. She did not disappoint them. She started out with a boisterous piece and everybody was bouncing heads. It was a little different than ever before. She seemed to want to give the audience a show they would not forget.
Just as we were all clapping and swaying back and forth to the sounds of the infamous Pearl Brown, in walked Bessie Smith. We were so involved in the show Pearl was displaying, that we barely noticed Bessie being there until she strutted toward the stage, escorted by two very handsome men. At first sight of her, the clapping became louder. Ms. Smith had them shouting. She finished one song with Pearl and then came off the stage. She went to the bar where the bartender offered her a drink. When she took the drink, she held it up high toward the ceiling, and then she downed it like a man. The crowd roared in thunderous applause. Hester whispered to me, “That was not ladylike.” I couldn’t help bursting out laughing. Afterward, Bessie and her crew left the club without speaking to anyone. It didn’t seem to matter because she’d given us a taste of her blues.
Hester and I couldn’t stop clapping even though Bessie was out of the door.
“This is the best show ever,” Hester said, clapping so hard the palms of her hands were red.
“She let us know she could sing. Ms. Pearl sang like a songbird too.”
Hester smiled. “You know it feels a little strange being here without a man.”
“Simon is usually here with me,” I commented.
“Is that Simon over there?”
I turned to see who it was and the man Hester was pointing at was already out of sight. Whoever she saw had moved so quickly in the crowd, I could not even catch a glimpse. It was a relief to know Kindred were nowhere to be found. The white man Ms. Pearl left with some nights was mingling at the bar.
Hester and I started toward the door, when I glanced at the crowd still lingering and saw a man leave who favored Simon from behind. I tried to catch him. I ran toward the exit, and called his name, but the man did not turn around and there were too many people between us for me to get a good look.
“This has been a great night,” Hester commented.
“Ms. Bessie Smith was wonderful. She sure surprised us with her entrance.”
Hester and I separated at the corner. Even though it was not summer, it was a mild night and the temperature was around sixty-five degrees. I took off my heels and ran barefoot the entire distance home. I couldn’t take any chances, not knowing who was lurking around Jackson Heights.
Chapter 9
The house was as dark as a starless sky when I got home, and the door was unlocked and partially opened. Immediately, fear rose up in me. I grabbed the baseball bat in the corner of the kitchen and shut the door behind me. I tipped from the kitchen to the bedroom with the bat held high in my hands, my heart thumping in my chest. I was going to find out what was going on.
Momma was lying on the davenport with a quilt thrown across her. She heard me walk into the room and rose up. “Why do you have that bat in your hands?” she asked.
“Momma, the door was unlocked.”
“Go on to bed, Chile; ain’t nobody in here.”
“Why is the door unlocked?” I asked again.
She didn’t say anything. She turned over on the davenport, with her back facing me. It was unusual for her to leave the door unlocked, especially since she didn’t trust people from the city. “They are too slick for me, and they take and don’t know hard work,” she’d often said. We were not in Jefferson County where the nearest neighbor was a quarter-mile away. Everybody there left doors unlocked and windows up on summer nights.
When I walked into my bedroom, to my surprise, Simon was lying across the bed with nothing on but his undershorts, waiting for me. Simon had his arms behind his head and a wide smile across his face.
“Come on in here,” he commanded me.
At first sight I shook my head and walked into the room smiling. The closer I got to the bed, the more thoughts started invading my head. Was he at the club tonight? I had to know. When did he really come home?
“Did I see you at the club tonight?” I asked.
“Carrie, can I answer your questions later? Come over here. I haven’t seen you in over a month.”
The lamp was casting shadows on the wall. Even though the lights were low, I didn’t feel the mood it was supposed to bring. As I walked toward the bed, all I thought of was that my husband had been deceiving me. He had been seen everywhere, but at home. When I got to the foot of the bed, I paused before sitting down. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be in the same room, much less the same bed with him.
“Why are you standing there? Come sit beside me,” he said, patting the bed for me to sit down.
“I have got to change into my night clothes,” I said, unbuttoning my shirt.
“You look nice. Where have you been?”
“I was at the club.”
He smiled at what I said, but did not comment. Did he care I was at the club, or did he already know? I thought a woman was supposed to go to the club with her man.
“Sit down right here,” he insisted, patting a spot on the bed again.
I sat down with my back toward Simon and kicked off my shoes. I reached down and neatly placed them together on the floor. Simon placed his hand on my back and began to knead it with his fingertips. I didn’t react.
“Why are you acting like I’m a stranger? You got your back towards me. I’ve been gone for over a month; surely you are glad to see me.”
I turned around and gazed into his eyes. He smiled and held out his arms for me to lie in. I slid closer to him and lay down beside him fully dressed. He coaxed me down into his muscular arms. And quietly I snuggled in, as usual.
“What is wrong with you?” he asked, wrapping his strong arms around me.
I couldn’t believe he didn’t know what was wrong. I stared into his beautiful almond eyes searching for evidence of deception and waited to see what he would say next. As I thought, he didn’t say a word. Finally, I pulled away from his arms and rose up off the bed. I sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ve got to take my clothes off,” I said and began to undress.
I finished unbuttoning my blouse. I hung my skirt and blouse on clothes racks in the closet and searched for the pink gown Momma had made me for my sixteenth birthday.
Being beside Simon triggered warmth all over my body. Simon waited patiently for me to crawl in bed beside him. Once I was lying in his arms, he kissed me. I wanted to pull back, but instead, I let h
im lay his lips on mine. He started to pull up my nightgown, but I couldn’t let him. I quickly pulled it back down.
“What is wrong with you?” he asked me. I could see the scowl on his face, and the sudden irritation.
“You haven’t been here,” I answered him.
“You know where I’ve been. I’ve been down in New Orleans playing baseball, and we stopped over in Atlanta for a few days.”
I bit my lip and shook my head. “Are you sure that’s where you’ve been?”
He sat up in the bed. And I did the same thing.
“Carrie, I’ve warned you about listening to people. I’ve been down south. I can tell somebody done put some more lies in your head.”
“Simon, people are seeing you everywhere. Somebody even saw you in Petersburg. Was that a lie too?” I boldly asked.
“I haven’t been near Petersburg. I don’t know why they are always telling you things about me. They ought to find something to do and stay out of my damn business.” The words came out choppy as if he was a stutterer. I could tell he was uncomfortable by the tone of his voice and how he raised it at the mention of Petersburg.
“I just don’t understand why people would want to lie on you, Simon.”
“They will, Carrie, I tell you. People are always creating things. I rushed home to see my wife and this is what I get,” he argued.
“Simon, people are seeing you around town. Even tonight somebody recognized you at the club.”
“Ain’t nobody seen me at the damn club. I wasn’t near the club. I’ve been driving all night trying to get home to see my family, and this is what I get.”
“Simon, let’s not argue about this,” I said, to calm him down.
He put his arm around my shoulder. I wanted to pull away, but instead, I slid back into his arms, bewildered, but not fooled.
He smiled. “Now that’s more like it.”
All of a sudden, I felt conquered. I forced a grin. He kissed me hard on the lips. I loved his scent, and just the touch of his skin next to mine made me weak.
Cranberry Winter Page 6
