by Mary Monroe
It was when my son smiled, cooed, and reached for the telephone that I knew what I had to do. It was almost like he wanted to take over the conversation and say what I knew I needed to say. But he didn’t have to. “Candace, I’ll start packing as soon as I get off this telephone,” I told her. And I did.
I didn’t tell anybody I was leaving town. I decided that it would be better just to go. Once I got settled, I’d write or call up the people I wanted to keep in touch with. I had packed everything I wanted to take with me. I had donated my furniture to Goodwill. Then I rented a booth at a nearby flea market and sold almost everything else. I was just about to pack up my leftovers and drop them off at the Salvation Army drop-off location when one more customer stopped at my booth.
“Dolores? Is that you?” It was a voice that I would have recognized anywhere, and it was just as harsh and irritating as ever. Glodine Banks, the wicked witch of the west, stood there with a familiar smirk on her face and a bulging plastic shopping bag in her hand.
“Glodine?” I said, whirling around. “How have you been?”
“Oh, I’m too blessed to be stressed, but I heard you been having a lot of ups and downs.” She cackled, her eyes sparkling with excitement and mischief.
“I don’t know who told you that. I’m doing just fine,” I said, with a proud sniff.
“Pffftt! Well, you sure don’t look it,” she sneered. Her eyes, wide and cold, roamed all over me, looking for distress.
“You can believe what you want to believe. I’m doing real well and that’s all that matters,” I insisted.
“I heard you done got yourself pregnant!” Glodine hollered, giving me a sly look. She kept right on talking before I could respond to her outburst. “Whose is it? I seen Floyd and I asked him and he said it wasn’t ‘no telling’ who . . .” Glodine picked up a cheap camera off the counter, one I hadn’t been able to sell even though I’d reduced the asking price to almost nothing. “This thing work?”
“It works,” I said, ignoring what she’d said about Floyd. “You can have it if you want it.”
“How come you never told me about that riot you caused at Paw Paw’s a couple of years ago?” Glodine demanded, fiddling around with the camera. You would have thought that it was a rare diamond the way she was inspecting it. “I had to hear it from three other people. You know how these L.A. niggers like to yip yap.” She let out a loud breath, stopped inspecting the camera, and then looked me in the eye. She shaded her eyes with her hand. “I didn’t know nothing about you fooling around with so many men, marrying three at the same time! Then, playing oochie coo with Valerie’s fiancé! Eeeyow!”
I glared at Glodine, refusing to let her make me crack. “That’s all over and done with. And it was two men I married, not three. And for the record, I didn’t know that Valerie was involved with that man. I told her that that night, and when you see her, you can tell her I said it again.”
At this point Glodine reared back on her legs like a steed and looked at me with her mouth hanging open as wide as a big dipper. “Didn’t you hear about Valerie? Her life ain’t worth a used condom these days.”
“Oh?” Now I was the one with my mouth hanging open. “What did she do now?” I asked. I was more than a little curious.
“Valerie in jail, girl.”
CHAPTER 63
“Valerie is in jail?” I mouthed, shaking my head. The words felt so hot on my tongue, I had to gulp in some cool air to ease the burning sensation in my mouth. I leaned forward and narrowed my eyes to see Glodine better. I didn’t like what I saw. She was gloating. Of all the things I expected to eventually hear about Valerie, this was not one of them. After all the years that had passed since she’d killed her stepfather, she’d gotten away with murder as far as I was concerned.
“Uh-huh. And let me tell you something, that sister won’t be sitting her happy ass up in that Ivory restaurant over there in Beverly Hills no time soon. Uh-uh. Her Ivory restaurant eating days is over!” Glodine paused and released a massive grunt. She had on plum-colored lipstick, mascara, and powder that hid the deep lines on her face. Her hair, now all completely gray, looked like it had been freshly done. I didn’t want to tell her what I was sure she already knew—she looked quite nice for a change, for a woman her age. She cleared her throat and hawked a huge wad of spit onto the ground, missing her own foot by inches. “Yeah, honey. That sister is going to be in jail ’til times get better. Are you standing here telling me you didn’t know that? You used to be her best friend!”
“Well, I am not her best friend anymore, so I don’t keep up with what’s happening in her life.” I gave Glodine a thoughtful look. “That’s the way she wanted it. What . . . what is she in jail for?”
“She killed a man!” Glodine reported. I could see that she was in her element. She slapped a hand on her boxy hip and looked me straight in the eye. “Ain’t it funny that the two people that you was in cahoots with ended up in prison. First Floyd, now Valerie. When it comes to friends, you sure know how to pick ’em.”
“Who . . . who did she kill? Did she kill the man she was supposed to marry a while back?”
“Girl, don’t you read the newspapers, or watch the news on the TV? It’s been all over the news all week.”
“I’ve been busy preparing to relocate,” I explained.
“Oh. Where you moving to? Done found you another man?”
I ignored Glodine’s questions. “Who did Valerie kill?” I asked again, not even trying to hide my impatience.
“Remember that mean-ass stepdaddy of hers? Zeke.”
For a split second everything went dark. The blood rushed to my head and I thought I was going to pass out. If I had not placed my hands firmly on the counter of the booth, I would have. “I remember Mr. Zeke. After the last time he beat on Miss Naomi, he disappeared,” I said in a weak voice. Glodine was so excited about sharing this juicy piece of information with me, she didn’t even notice how it was affecting me.
“He disappeared all right. In a hole in Naomi’s backyard, and Valerie was the one that put him there with her own hands. Hmmm. Looking at her, you’d never guess she was that strong . . .”
“Who said that?” I mouthed, surprised that I was still standing and not stretched out on the ground.
“She said that! It was in the newspaper. I don’t know all the details, and I ain’t running around trying to find it out. The last thing I want people saying is that I don’t know how to mind my own business. The newspaper said that she cut up that nigger she was supposed to marry. The same one you stole from her. Anyway, she allowed that punk to hang around after you messed him over. That’s how desperate she was for a dick. One thing led to another, and she finally figured out he wasn’t worth shit. Last Saturday night they fought in her house. She sliced him across the neck like she was gutting a catfish. But that wasn’t enough for her. Then she stabbed him below the breastbone and sent him to the hospital in critical condition. While she was in that dark dreary jail cell for that, she must have got the spirit in the dark, because she broke down and confessed to killing Zeke. You can run and you can hide, but the one thing that’ll always find you is that spirit in the dark. That’s God’s way of showing us he ain’t blind. He’s the only spirit that can see everything. Even in the dark. . . .” Glodine’s spiritual words gave me a sudden warm feeling. I felt calmer than I’d felt in years. My only regret was that she had not said something like this to me years before. I could see that what she’d just said had a profound effect on her, too. She had never gotten along with Mr. Zeke, but her emotions got the better of her. She paused, looked off to the side, and wiped a few tears from her eyes.
After sucking in a few loud breaths of air, Glodine looked at me again. The makeup hid her age and flaws, but not her pain and sadness. I wondered if a woman who’d lost all three of her children could ever not feel some level of pain. Thinking about that made me feel sorry for her. She seemed surprised, but pleased, when I smiled and leaned over the counter and
gave her a brief hug.
There was a noticeable lilt in her voice when she continued. “Me, if I was Valerie or her broke-down mama, I would have killed that booger a long time ago and it wouldn’t have took no spirit in the dark to loosen my lips. I hate to speak ill of the dead, but I like to be thorough.” Glodine paused again. This time she raised a fist in the air and shook it. “If any man ever had it coming, it was Zeke Proctor. And I think the DA thinks the same thing, because he knew what a motherfucker Zeke was when he was still on the police force.”
What I had just heard about Valerie made my head spin. I was totally overwhelmed. “What are they going to do to her? Did she say anybody else was involved?” I asked in a shaky voice.
Glodine shook her head. “Just her and her mama was involved, may she rest in peace. But I got a notion that there was a whole lot of other folks that would have eventually cooked Zeke’s goose. I’ll give you two dollars for this camera,” Glodine said, holding the camera up to the light.
“No, you can have it,” I insisted, pushing it toward her. “Uh, have you talked to Valerie since the news broke?”
“Have I talked to Valerie?” Glodine gasped and stabbed her chest with her crooked finger, looking at me like I was just as crude as she was. “What’s wrong with you, girl? I ain’t going up into no jailhouse to talk to Valerie, or nobody else. We ain’t got nothing to talk about no more, no how. All them years she lived down the street from me, she thought her shit didn’t stink. Half the time I seen her, she didn’t even speak to me. But I am a Christian so I do feel for her regardless of her sins. I prayed for her when I heard about her backsliding situation. . . .” Glodine let out a loud breath and then looked at me out of the corner of her eye. “Girl, you better not tell the new people that you meet all this shit you been caught up in. They might think you bad luck. Most people ain’t as scientific as I am. I don’t believe in bad omens, but a lot of people do.” Glodine looked at her watch. “Where you moving to?”
“I’m moving to Florida. I just accepted a job offer,” I announced.
“Florida? Aw shuck it! You moving to Florida with all them hurricanes and bugs—some big as me? Girl, you might as well move to some jungle in Uganda. Bah!” I was not surprised that Glodine was more interested in the Florida weather and bugs than my new job. She didn’t even ask what my new job was. She fanned her face with one hand, and stuffed the camera into her bulging, plastic shopping bag with the other. “Well, call me when you get settled. I’d like to keep in touch. I been itching to see Florida all my life, but I never could go to Florida because of them highfalutin hotel prices. But now that you’re going to be out yonder, I’ll have a place to stay for a few weeks.” Glodine let out a mild belch and then gave me one of her most sincere smiles. “What else you got to give away, LoReese?” It was the end of the day in more ways than one. Once Glodine realized I had nothing else to give her, she left.
I watched until this sad and mysterious woman was out of sight. Despite my delayed feelings of sorrow for her, I had no desire to keep in touch with her. It was too late. And I had no desire to visit Valerie in jail. It was also too late for that. But I was glad that she had not dragged me down with her when she made her jailhouse confession. She had made it clear that she never wanted to see me again, anyway. And even if she did, there was nothing I could say, or do, that would help her get through the mess she was in this time. Besides, jail was one place I didn’t want to visit again anytime soon. After all of the years that I had spent comforting Floyd while he was incarcerated, our relationship had still blown up in my face, even though it was my fault and I could have avoided it by not marrying him.
I had already made arrangements to leave for Florida the next day, that Sunday afternoon. After I’d packed up and left the flea market, and retrieved my son from the sitter’s, I went straight home. As soon as I got inside, I called the airline to see if I could change my travel arrangements. They had one flight to Miami that had only two seats left, and it was leaving at midnight.
When that plane roared out of LAX, my son and I were on it.
Best friends Annette and Rhoda return in the newest
book in the acclaimed God series . . .
God Don’t Make No Mistakes
Coming in June 2012
Turn the page for an excerpt from God Don’t Make No Mistakes . . .
“The way you was whoopin’ and hollerin’, and flippin’ and floppin’, and wallowin’ around on that damn bed, I must have done my ‘hit and run’ job real good in them ten minutes,” Pee Wee teased back.
I rolled my eyes and gave him an exasperated look. “So it’s a job to you now?” I pouted. The last thing I wanted to hear was the implication that making love to me was a “job.” That was one step above a mercy fuck!
Even with Pee Wee and two other men on my roster, before today it had been a couple of weeks since I’d made love with a man. So the ten minutes that Pee Wee had just spent with me were better than nothing. But under the circumstances, I would have appreciated a lot more time to enjoy the pleasure of a man’s body. I enjoyed sex more now than I did twenty years ago.
“Annette, are you tryin’ to tell me somethin’? If you are, please tell me and get it over with.”
“I did tell you something.”
“So what if I do make you feel like a prostitute? Whores need love too.”
I threw up my hands. “If I were you, I’d stop while I was ahead,” I warned. I rubbed the back of my neck and sucked in some air. We had had conversations similar to this one so many times that I felt like I was rehearsing for a play. “Look, I think we can still work things out and not do . . . this,” I told him, patting the bed and hoping that he wouldn’t agree with my last statement. “Every time you come over here now, we end up in bed. You don’t have to sleep with me, and you don’t have to pay me to do it. That’s why I suggested we still date other people, until we can decide if we want to reconcile or not.”
Pee Wee gave me a confused look. “Don’t you enjoy these little get-togethers as much as I do?”
“I do, but I don’t want you to think that we have to do it.”
He gave me another confused look, this time blinking so hard and fast I thought something had got caught in his eye. “What? Do you not want to make love with me? You don’t find me attractive anymore?” he asked.
“Don’t be so sensitive,” I scolded. “You know I enjoy making love with you. I always have.”
“Then why we talkin’ all this crap, baby? You know that the money I give to you is for my daughter. I ain’t payin’ you to make love with me. I ain’t never paid for no pussy before in my life, and I never will. Not even with you.”
I didn’t see any reason to remind Pee Wee about the times he’d told me that when he was in the army, he and every other member of his platoon had paid Vietnamese prostitutes for sex.
“You don’t need to make our situation no messier than it already is,” he reminded.
“I know, I know. It’s just that every time you come over here, we . . . uh . . . we end up in bed and you hand me some money. Just like I was still a . . .” Pee Wee knew that I had once worked as a prostitute. Even though that dark episode had occurred more than thirty years ago, I knew that he probably still thought about it as much as I did.
“Let’s not bring up the past. We already have enough to deal with in the present. My mechanic is comin’ by the house next week to take a look under the hood of your car to see why you keep hearin’ that buzzin’ noise.” Pee Wee glanced at his watch and then around the room. “This is goin’ to be a real long day for me, so I need to shake a leg. You don’t need no maintenance work or nothin’ else done around the house do you, baby?”
“No, I don’t need anything like that,” I told him.
“Well,” he yawned, rubbing his chest. “I’m feelin’ real good. Better than the last time we got busy!” He threw me a kiss. “Is there anything else we need to discuss before I leave?”
“Since
you asked, there is just this one other thing.” I locked eyes with Pee Wee. “Will you tell your whore to stop calling my house?”
His jaw dropped so fast I was surprised it didn’t lock in place.
“What? I—I ain’t got no whore! You know that you are the only woman that can get my attention these days!” he yelled.
I gasped. “Is that right?” I asked, patting the side of my head. I usually wore my medium length hair in braids, but lately I’d been getting by with a mild perm and a French twist. It had come undone during my ten-minute romp with Pee Wee. I could feel clumps of my hair standing up on my head, pointing in all directions. I must have looked like Don King.
“But . . . but . . . I . . . I,” Pee Wee stuttered.
I could see that my outburst had surprised Pee Wee. It had been a while since I had mentioned the woman that he left me for last March. He stood with his arms folded. He knew that he had to be careful about what he said to me, unless he wanted to deal with my wrath. The day that he had brought his mistress to my house to tell me that he was leaving me and moving in with her, I’d knocked out one of his teeth. And I had given his mistress a thorough, well-deserved ass whupping with my rolling pin.
“Are you talkin’ about Lizzie Stovall?” he asked dumbly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“Who else would I be talking about?” I hollered, giving him an incredulous look. “Lizzie is the only one that I am aware of! Was there another one?”
“No! No, there was no other woman other than Lizzie. You know better. You know I don’t lie to you.”
My eyes got as big as saucers and I gasped again. “You’re lying now. You’ve told me enough lies in the last few months to fill a Mason jar.”
