Rush

by Lisa Patton

  “Miss Pearl?” I heard someone say.

  There was a mama on the other end of the line. So I put a little more nice in my voice. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “This is Kathy Peabody calling you from Memphis. I hate to bother you at nighttime. Do you have a minute?”

  “I’m driving home from work, Miss Kathy, how can I help you?”

  “Sara Beth is sick. Really sick, I think. She’s in her room at the House and doesn’t have any of the right meds. She’s been throwing up since two o’clock this afternoon.”

  “Oh no.”

  “None of her girlfriends want to go near her for fear they’ll get it, so she’s isolated. My husband called her in a prescription for nausea. It’s ready at Walgreens. I’m happy to pay you extra if you could pick it up for her.”

  As enticing as the extra cash sounded, I sure didn’t want to go backward. Remember your tires, Pearl. I turned into a driveway and was headed back to Oxford before I could talk myself out of it. “I can do that for you,” I said. “Is there anything else she needs?”

  “A Sprite would be good. And some ice in a bucket. And maybe a wet rag for her face. Oh and how about some trash bags? She says the bathroom is so far down the hall she’s been throwing up in her room. She’s afraid she’ll throw up on the rug if she makes a run for it.” I had a clear picture of that in my head. And I knew exactly who would be cleaning it up. “You can get everything at Walgreens,” she said.

  As tired as I was, I couldn’t remember going through the last red light. “Okay, Miss Kathy, I’ve turned around and I’m headed to Walgreens.”

  “I’m writing you out a check now. If you’ll give me your address I’ll mail it to you in the morning.” After I gave her my address, she thanked me a hundred times and we ended the call.

  I lean into Mama Carla. “After cleaning up a nasty mess, and making sure Sara Beth was doing okay, it was eight o’clock when I left here.”

  “I hope you don’t get it.” She backs away with a smile.

  “I’ve learned my lesson. I wore a mask and gloves.”

  “What would these mamas do without you, Pearl?”

  “They’d find someone else, I suppose.”

  “I have my doubts. On that note, I think I need a nap if I expect to make it through the day.” She sighs deeply then hands me her clipboard. “Would you mind finishing this order for me, please?”

  “Of course. You go ahead and lie down.”

  “Thank you, dear. I’m not feeling too well. I’ve got a lot on my mind. Plus we have a big week ahead.”

  “Sure do. Try to get some rest. I’ll see you when you wake up.”

  *

  To make room for all the girls coming through Rush, Mr. Marvelle and I used to have to break down all thirty of our dining tables and tote them clear down to the basement. Had to take most of the chairs down there, too. This year, praise the Lord, Mama Carla has hired a moving company to pick them up, store them, and bring them back once Rush is over. My back has been thanking her ever since she told me.

  Right before nine, Mr. Marvelle and I are toting all of the glasses we use for water parties up from the basement when Sarah Mason sprints down the front hall in front of us.

  “Woo, where you headed in such a hurry?” I ask her. I can barely see over the top of my box, but I know it’s her by her pretty legs.

  “To the Union. Did I tell you I’m a Gamma Chi this year?” she says over her shoulder.

  “That’s right. Sure did.”

  “We’re handing out Greek Day T-shirts to all the rushees. My shift starts in ten minutes.”

  “Have fun, baby.”

  “I will,” she hollers back, before dashing out the front door. Gamma Chis, the term Ole Miss uses for Greek Counselors, play an important role during Rush. Once the rushees get divided into groups, the Gamma Chis escort them to all the Rush parties and give advice, even comfort the girls if they happen to be cut.

  Seeing Sarah gets me wondering about her parents’ divorce. And what it feels like to be in her situation. Trying to hold it together when she’s supposed to be enjoying the best years of her life. Sarah is kind and good, exactly the type of girl I would want my daughter to be like, and yet she’s dealing with terrible heartache. Heartache she didn’t bring upon herself and certainly never asked for. It makes me wonder about Autumn’s parents. Are they still together? Do they love each other? I gave my baby that name close to ten years ago. She was born the first day of autumn, and I, well, I suppose I just needed to name her.

  After putting the last box of glasses in the kitchen I head to my closet for window cleaner and a roll of paper towels. Then I head over to the composites on the ground floor. I always start on the one closest to the foyer. Two thousand fifteen. With each swipe I focus on one picture of one girl, think about what she meant to me, then move on to another. Twenty-five years of knowing and missing these girls often brings a tear to my eye. Some of them, well, many of them, come back to see me when they’re in town. But there’s plenty I’ve lost contact with completely. Occasionally, I wipe the face of one who never wanted to know me. But that’s life. I don’t let it get me down.

  I’m so lost in thought I don’t notice Mama Carla’s head poking out of her apartment door. Before God, it looks like there is no body attached to that little blond head. “Aaahhhh!” I scream, like I’ve just seen a spirit in a graveyard, and throw my rag way up in the air. My heart jumps into overdrive and beats so fast I have to lean against the wall to get ahold of myself. “Mama Carla! You liked to scared me to death.” Before long I get to laughing so hard I can hardly catch my breath.

  “Pearl. When you’re done, may I have a word with you, please?”

  Her reaction takes me by surprise. Normally she would have laughed along with me. I have never heard her use such language. Or that tone. It’s as sharp as one of Fee’s kitchen knives. This morning, before her nap, she was joking with me. Seemed to be in a great mood. What in the world has changed?

  “Of course. Let me finish this composite. Be there in a minute.”

  After I’m done, I lay my supplies down on the floor in front of the next picture and rap on her door, even though it’s standing wide open. She’s rifling through papers lying on the table next to her and looks up when she hears me.

  “Come on in. I’m looking for an EOB I got in the mail the other day. I can’t seem to find it.”

  “EOB?”

  “Explanation of Benefits. From the insurance company?” She looks confused, like I should know what she’s talking about, then taps her forehead. “Of course you don’t know. It’s a statement the insurance company sends out after a doctor’s appointment. It gives your portion of the bill.”

  I smile at her. Not her fault the rest of us don’t have health insurance.

  “Pearl, I want you to be the first to know something. Sit down, why don’t you.” She points to the empty chair. Her tone has changed. And it frightens me.

  I take a seat, feel the hair on the back of my neck rise.

  “It’s terrible timing with Rush this week, but I suppose there’s never a good time for sad news.”

  My heart stops. The medical bill she had in her hand. Her tone of voice. “Please don’t tell me you have cancer.”

  “No, no no. It’s not anything that bad, thank the Lord.” She swallows and chooses her words carefully. “I may as well just say it. I’ve decided to leave the Alpha Delt House.”

  I’m not completely shocked by this news. She had mentioned she might not be able to keep doing her job if things with Patrice got worse, but the reality of her leaving is flooding my heart with all kinds of emotions. Not only will I miss her terribly, but the mere thought of the transition is horrid.

  The House Director we had before Mama Carla was nothing to get excited about. It’s not that she was unlikable, just boring—no personality. Nothing like Mama Carla. And the one before her—now, she was a living nightmare. Some of my friends who work at other Houses have told me m
ore heinous House Director stories, and as much time as I spend engaging with the House Director, this gives me reason to sink down further into the chair. “I bet you’re fixin’ to tell me you’re moving down to Ocean Springs.”

  Her bashful smile lets me know I’m right. “In the house with Patrice and the kids. She’s overwhelmed, Pearl. Sad all the time, and my grandchildren are acting out. Looks like they’ve got a messy divorce and custody battle ahead. I don’t want her losing them because she’s a stressed-out wreck. I’m afraid she needs me there a lot more than y’all need me here.”

  I can feel my body shrinking. And my heart squeezing shut. “When are you leaving, Mama Carla?”

  “As soon as the board can find a replacement. I wish I could stay till the end of the year, but I’m afraid that’s not possible. I’m hoping to leave by Thanksgiving.”

  “That soon?”

  She lets out a sigh. “I suppose I could stay a little longer if it takes awhile to find the right person, but as soon as possible.”

  I have no words.

  “Do me a favor and keep this to yourself. I’ll tell the rest of the staff after I’ve let Lilith Whitmore know.”

  “Of course,” I force myself to say, but all I can think about is whom they might get to replace Mama Carla, and with Miss Lilith at the helm it will certainly not be me. The thought of that leaves me with only one option. “If you’re leaving then I’m leaving, too.”

  She uncrosses her legs, sits up straight. “No. Pearl. That’s the last thing I want to happen. Please don’t quit.”

  “A few weeks ago, when I was leaving here, you know the night you got back from Ocean Springs?”

  A nod lets me know I’ve got her attention.

  “Something hit me clear as day when I was leaving out the back door.”

  “What was that?”

  “I looked up at the study room, at all the girls doing their homework. Right then and there I knew it was time to get my butt back to school. And once and for all, finish the degree I started all those years ago.”

  Mama Carla leans toward me with her hands on her thighs. “Pearl. That’s the best thing I’ve heard you say in a long time.”

  “I know it’s what I’m supposed to do.”

  “Have you registered yet?”

  “No. I’d never be able to afford Ole Miss tuition, so I’ve decided to apply to Rust College in Holly Springs.” When I graduated from Oxford High School, I had a full scholarship to Ole Miss, but had to give it up after my first year. Mama Carla only knows I dropped out of school. What she doesn’t know is why. She’s never asked and I’ve never told her.

  I had worked hard to earn my scholarship. Finally there would be a woman in our family to break the legacy of career housekeepers and graduate from college. Yet one fateful choice reversed my plan. Once I gave up my daughter, I could no longer concentrate on my studies. My grades suffered and my scholarship was lost.

  “Rust is a fine school. Can you get financial aid?”

  “I looked into it when I got home the other night. I can get a partial scholarship, so I’ve been thinking I might get a job in Holly Springs, long as I’m driving all that way. Who knows, I may even move there. Might be able to find a better deal on rent.” Rust College is forty-five minutes away from Oxford.

  Mama Carla doesn’t say anything for the longest time, but I can tell her brain is spinning. She does that sometimes when she’s searching for the best answer. After a long minute she says, “May I offer you my opinion?”

  “Why, sure.” I relish any advice Mama Carla has to offer.

  “I think you should cut back your hours a little bit here while you’re working on your degree. The girls would love to have you up in the study room with them. Or find your own nook somewhere else. This House is certainly big enough.”

  “But you won’t be here. Maybe the new housemama won’t feel the way you do.”

  “Once she gets to know you, and how you hold this ship together, she’ll be eating out of your hand.”

  “What you’re saying sounds good, but … I’m hardly making it as it is, Mama Carla. I’m not sure I’ll be able to cut back. That’s why I’m thinking of moving down to Holly Springs.”

  “It’s a conundrum. I can see that. Let me think on it and get back with you.”

  I feel fatigue setting into my body and it’s only eight thirty. “Let me get back to work, then,” I say, slowly rising from the chair. “Why folks feel like they have to touch the composite every time they see someone they know is beyond me. But it happens every day.”

  “You do know everything there is to know about this place.”

  “I know more than you think I know.”

  “Like what?” she asks with a mischievous grin, rising from her chair.

  “Some of the Alpha Delt secrets. I know the handshake and that secret swear. But don’t tell it. I would never want to get anybody in trouble.”

  Touching her heart with four fingers she winks. “I wouldn’t dare.”

  “You know the secret swear, too?” I say from the doorway.

  Her eyes crinkle at the corners. “I have my own sources.”

  We both laugh. Then I walk out the door.

  I’m already past the staircase when Mama Carla calls my name. I turn around to see her waving me back. “I had a thought,” she hollers, so I move toward her. When there’s not but a foot or two between us she glances behind her, then side to side. “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Why don’t you apply for my job?”

  I glance around the foyer to make sure she’s not talking to someone else. “Are you listening to yourself, Mama Carla? Me, a black woman, housemother of a lily-white sorority house? You have lost your mind.” I don’t want to tell her that I’d thought about it when I woke up in her bed a few weeks ago. After the way Miss Lilith acted, I put a heavy pipe in front of that dream.

  “I most certainly have not. You did a great job when you filled in for me. Besides, you’ve been working here far longer than I have, and you’re smart as a whip. You have a year of college under your belt and you’re going back to get your degree. Of course you should apply for the job.”

  “Unh-uh. It would never happen.”

  “Just give it some thought. You’d have health insurance. A lovely, paid-for apartment. A nice salary, plus a paid vacation all summer. And you could study at night. In fact, you could take online courses. That’s become common among working professionals.”

  The more she talks the better it sounds. Until Miss Lilith’s hateful mug pops into my mind. “Even if I were to consider it, what do you think Mrs. Lilith Whitmore would have to say? After the powder room incident?” I had told her all about it the day after she got back from Ocean Springs.

  “Pooh. I filled her in on Kadeesha’s ways. She knows it wasn’t your fault.”

  “Maybe, but that’s not the only issue. I heard the talk when I filled in. You know she, and a few others for that matter, were not happy.”

  “I’ll admit Lilith Whitmore has high standards for Alpha Delt. But, she’ll have to agree you are every bit as qualified as I am. No one knows more about the inner workings of this House than you do; I’m a novice by comparison. I, for one, would love to see you get the job, and I’m sure the girls would, too.”

  “I do know every inch of this place. And I should after working here all these years.”

  “Give it some thought.”

  I let her words marinate a few extra moments. “I might just do that.”

  THIRTY-TWO

  MISS PEARL

  Even though I promised Mama Carla I wouldn’t mention it to anybody, I run straight into the kitchen to tell Fee. I have to tell somebody before these nerves of mine jump out of every pore on my body. She’ll keep it to herself. I know that. Whenever Aunt Fee gets top secret information she locks it up like she’s storing it in a vault.

  She’s up to her elbows in flour. It’s down the front of her bosom, on her w
hite apron, and in her hair, too. I see chicken, eggs, butter, and milk right next to where she’s working. Helen’s pulling chicken off the bone and Latonya is a few feet away, chopping onion, parsley, and celery. I know what’s on tonight’s menu. Chicken and dumplings.

  “Aunt Fee,” I call from the side of the stove. “May I talk to you a minute?”

  “Lemme get my hands out of this mess, and I’ll be with you in a minute, baby.”

  “I’m in no big hurry,” I tell her. “Take your time.”

  “Looks like you in a hurry to me,” says Kadeesha, who is standing in front of the dishwashing station with her hands in a sink full of dishwater. The front part of her hair is poking out of her hairnet. “You came running in here like you had a big story to tell. Like you know something nobody else know.”

  That fool woman tries to pick a fight with anyone who will let her. I want to give her a piece of my mind, but instead I angrily—but calmly—say, “I run because I need the exercise, Kadeesha.” Then I just stare at her.

  “Kadeesha,” Auntie hollers, “you finished washin’ my utensils yet? I am two minutes away from needin’ everything Helen and Latonya are choppin’. That means I need my utensils. You don’t need to be concernin’ yourself with whether Pearl run or she walk. You need to keep your own mind on your own business. You hear me?”

  Kadeesha shuts up then. But I see her eyeing me, narrow slits following me around the room. Somebody needs to tell her there is nothing pretty about her face with that ol’ ugly scowl spread clear across the front.

  “And cover your whole head. I ain’t gone tell you that again.”

  “I’ll be in the pantry helping Mr. Marvelle when you’re ready,” I say to her, sliding over to where he’s working. Then the two of us finish emptying the morning’s delivery onto the pantry shelves.