In Search of Satisfaction

by J. California Cooper

  They had purchased one of the houses in Yoville which had gone into foreclosure after the market crash. It was a very rich house, large and beautiful. “Cause we are going to have lots of children!” Lovey explained in her letter. Lovey was happy, but “I want to live in my own home since I’m bout to become a mother! Lincoln is thrilled to be a father!” Lovey’s letters came typed now. She wrote, “I learned to type so I could help Lincoln sometimes and we could be alone without his secretary all the time. When I get home, I am going to buy fifty typewriters for Sally’s school so those students can learn to type. Jobs, honey, jobs. And Lincoln says we have to think of taking some of this money he is making and set up scholarships for some of the smart, poor children there.” At the end of the letter, Lovey had written, “Chile, we miss our colored folks. These white folks, some of em is nice, but some of them? Chile they confused as they say we are. We want to be home with our own families.”

  Hosanna was happy for her and happy they were coming home. Luke was doing fine in his store. He and Richlene were happy, but somehow changed. She didn’t have time to think of all that right now. With her nieces and nephew living with her, all her time was consumed. But how, and where, was Lettie? She never wrote home. That worried Hosanna.

  Sometimes Hosanna saw Homer in the distance, he always seemed to be running, busy. She remembered him with pleasure. “He was such a kind man.” Sometimes she wondered if she had been wrong in how she had thought of him … then.

  Time passes anyway and things mellow out. But loneliness does not go away unless it has a good reason, so she was still very lonely. Many nights, tossing and turning in her bed, sleepless. Thinking of “Who?” Wondering, “Who?” If ever he came, “Who will he be? What will he be?” to make her life complete.

  One day Hosanna went to gather kindling to fill her kindling box and found it full. The next morning when she went out to prepare water for the wash, the leg on her tool table that had been weak and broken was fixed good as new. She had planned to get Luke to fix it for her. Flowers began to appear on the porch outside her door in the mornings when she came out. In time, a pair of pretty earrings or some small precious thing would be in among her tools, easily found.

  Her heart became gladdened. She began to look for these things, these surprises. She almost thought it was Homer, but since she never saw him close enough and they never had occasion to speak, she thought it might not be. But so many things were done to make her job easier. No one ever said anything to her about these things.

  Somehow, even alone, the nights became more romantic. Dreams do that. And loneliness. She would think, “Someone … he, is out there doing things for me. Why won’t he say something?” She longed to see him. Her dreams had gone so far as to long to feel his arms around her. She had made his arms good, kind, safe and full of satisfaction. “Why is he taking all this time to show himself?”

  Hosanna took to putting the children to bed early to leave the night free. She would sit in the dark and peep out through the clean, starched curtains. Trying to see, wanting to know. Him.

  On the morning Hosanna found a little brown radio at her door, she was thrilled and excited. And a little frustrated and angry, impatient. She stared into the space of trees, garden, thickets around her house. “He is spending big money, now. He has to really care about me. What’s wrong with him!”

  She hollered, not harshly, out into the quiet morning space, “You better come on now, so you can listen to this radio with me.” There was no answer. All was quiet except for the soft whispering of the leaves and branches of the trees in the morning breeze. Hosanna went back in the house, plugged the radio in her new electric wall plugs and turned it on. The children got up, sleepy-eyed, to listen to the marvel of radio.

  That very night when Hosanna answered the gentle knock at the door, she opened it and there was Homer, his hat in one hand, some flowers in the other. Surprising to Hosanna, her heart patted out of rhythm. She was happy to see him. All her memories of him were good ones.

  Homer smiled, held out the flowers and said, “Ahh, would you like to go for a walk, Miz Hosanna?”

  Hosanna stepped back from the door and with a sweep of her arm, waved him in. “Good evening, Homer. I’d love to, but I have the children here.”

  “Well,” he smiled, “Most children like to walk. Let’s all walk over by the river. If you like. It’ll make em sleep better.”

  Hosanna was pleased, no one had ever included the children before. “Why, I sure would like to take that walk then, Mr. Homer.”

  They walked and they talked. Homer brought her up to date on all he had done and was doing. His mother had passed and he lived alone now. One of the things he was doing was working Creed’s land. “Lincoln wants to settle in Yoville, farming. He done bought the best and latest tools and taught me how to use them when he come down here to see his dad. I’m running the farm and I’m learning. I included a whole field of flowers. That’s why you get such pretty, fresh flowers! I grow em!”

  Hosanna listened, her mind glowing and proud. She thought, “He is doing something! And something beautiful, too!” She said, “That’s wonderful, Homer. Lovey told me they’re going to have a baby. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  He turned to her as they walked, “Be wonderful for you, too. When you gonna think of getting married?”

  Hosanna laughed. “That’s all I do think of. I’m tired of being alone and lonely. But I don’t want to get married just to get a man and a baby. I want it to be real … I want it to be love.”

  Homer didn’t laugh, “That’s why I’m still single. That’s what I want. I always have loved on you, Hosanna.”

  Hosanna’s brain smiled, her face smiled, her heart giggled happily. She thought, “Now, I been knowing Homer, why am I acting like this? Because I am lonely?” She didn’t say anything, just listened to him, thought and walked.

  Hosanna and Homer kept company for over two months and Homer didn’t try to put a hand on her. Hosanna wouldn’t have let him make love to her, but she wanted to know he wanted to. “Lord, maybe he don’t know nothing bout no lovemaking! I don’t want to be stuck all my life with no satisfaction at all!”

  A few more weeks passed, They had kissed several times. Hosanna didn’t like him less, she liked him more … and more. One night they spoke of marriage and Hosanna said, “I don’t know, Homer, I want to be as sure as possible.”

  Homer only smiled, “Everybody does.” He looked around the room, “It’s so quiet in this house. Are the kids sleep?”

  “Yes. They fell out early. Played hard all day.”

  Homer took her hand and held it warmly. “Well, let’s take a little walk down by the river and talk a little bit. They’ll be safe. All the fires out?”

  “Been out.”

  He stood up. “Want to go?”

  “Why not?”

  So they walked, these two people with the sad, lonely, yearning hearts. Their lives moving along. Both good people with soft love in their souls. Easily hurt, open to love, alone and lonely.

  This time as they walked, Homer took her hand and led her deep into the jungly trees to a clearing. He took his jacket off and put it on the ground for her to sit on. He seemed to try to stretch it out as far as it would go. Hosanna laughed, “I’m not gonna lie down, Homer, we’re just going to sit, so that’s fine.”

  He helped her sit down. “You don’t never know. Moon coming through the trees like it is. Water sounding so cool, fresh and wet. Night birds singing to you. You don’t never know. You could get sleepy and want to lie back a bit.”

  Hosanna laughed. “You sure can talk, Homer.”

  “Well, that’s what I mostly do with you, Hosanna.”

  “What do you mean, Homer?”

  Homer laughed. “Well, that’s what we do! Talk!”

  “Well, we talk about important things.”

  Homer’s laugh dwindled away. “We need to DO some important things.”

  “Get married, you mean?”
<
br />   “Get married is one of em.”

  Hosanna lay back on her elbows, relaxed. “What’s the other?”

  Homer reached for Hosanna, pulling her body close to him. He tilted her head back with his chin and kissed her. One of those long, deep, moist, warm, soft kisses. Moving, chile! He felt her relax and yearn toward him. He pressed her gently to the ground.

  Hosanna spoke, her lips against his lips, “What you doing, Homer?”

  Homer answered, his lips still pressed to her lips, “I want you to be comfortable.”

  Hosanna smiled in their kiss, “I was.” But she lay back in his arms, lips still pressed close. They lay like that awhile, then he began rubbing her arm from her shoulder down to her fingertips, slowly, slowly, gently. He smoothed her forehead and cheeks, tenderly. He kissed her again and his hand slid down, slowly, gently to her stomach, never touching her breast, never making an intrusive move.

  Hosanna closed her eyes and relaxed, thinking, “Lord … if I’m going to marry this man and live right, I neeeeed to find out if it’s gonna be alright because we are going to have to sleep together every night for the rest of our lives. I haven’t done this everytime I met somebody I thought I might marry, you know that. But, I really feel I love this man. He is a good man. I think this might be it. I neeeed to know if I will have something that will complete my life or something that will worry me to death. I rather stay single and try to be good.” So Hosanna pretended they were already married and watched in her mind all that he did and all that he felt like, to her, doing it. When her body was hot and moist, her loins aching for him to enter her, she became afraid and, her lips against his lips, said, “Let’s stop and talk a minute.”

  Homer answered, never moving his lips away, but she could understand him, “I am talking to you, Hosanna baby. Can’t you hear me?”

  In a weak voice, Hosanna answered, “I hear you, Homer.”

  “Do I hear you calling me, Hosanna, talking to me?” His hand slipped under the band of her panties. Her body was wet, wet, wet and hot to his touch. “I blive I hear you calling me, Hosanna.”

  Well, they made love. Good love. Their love. They had waited. Now … they stopped speaking words with their lips. But the trees, the leaves and thickets, wild flowers and the river raised their voices in the night and sang and sang and sang to Homer and Hosanna, to the height of satisfaction.

  They were married by the end of the week. Homer moved into the house with Hosanna because her work and the children were there. Homer rented his house out. Hosanna exclaimed, “Oh, Homer! I got a business, you got good work, and now, already, I got a rent house!”

  Homer laughed a little. “Hosanna, I blive you’re sposed to say. we got a rent house. Not you got a rent house.”

  Hosanna smiled at him and pulled on his arm. “What’s mine is yours.”

  “That’s why I like you so much, Hosanna.” He laughed more.

  “You love me.”

  “That, too.”

  “Me, too.”

  • • •

  months later, Hosanna went out to the old chicken house where she hid her money to get some to help Homer with materials for an addition they planned to build on their house—a new baby was coming. She dug in the ground for the hidden money, but her shovel hit a different box, a different sound. She dug the small box out and opened it. It contained a ring, a large diamond ring, sparkling as though it had just been polished and set there. It also contained a note from Joel to Ruth, Hosanna’s parents. It read, “Keep this for ever when I make love to you, cause I loves you. Joel.”

  She ran to Homer who was sitting at their table eating lunch. He looked at the ring, turning it over in his hand. “Sure is a pretty stone.”

  “It’s a diamond, Homer! It belonged to my mother! See the note from my father?”

  “Emmmm, hmmmm,” Homer nodded his head. “I see what he says. You think it’s somethin special to this ring?”

  “They made all their babies!”

  “Put it on. Let’s try it out.”

  So they did. Later Homer said, “That there ring sure is a good ring!”

  Hosanna spread her arms out in the bed. “Sure is, Homer.”

  Thereafter she always wore it to bed with Homer.

  And they prayed together, thanking God for their blessings.

  And they didn’t have a bit of trouble with their life that they couldn’t handle.

  chapter

  47

  then Lettie came home, smiling. She had been gone two years. She was not with a man, but she was happy with herself.

  “I been to beauty school in that city where I was. I am a beauty operator. See, here is my license, girl! I’m sure glad I went to that school Sally has, cause I had to know how to read and study. Now, I’m gonna have my own business, like you!” Hosanna was happy for her, too. They talked and talked.

  “I kept your house up for you, well, for the kids, I guess. I didn’t know if you were ever coming back.”

  “I couldn’t write. I couldn’t say nothin to nobody. I was scared if I didn’t keep doing what I was doin, I would stop and come back and be nothin. I knew you would love my kids. Where are they? I been waiting for them to run out of somewhere.”

  “They are at school. They’ll be home soon, or you can go get them.”

  “Hosanna, can I have my babies back?”

  “Lettie, they don’t belong to me. They belong to you.”

  “But … you been keeping them. You been their mother.”

  “I have been their aunt. I have been your sister.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Ask them what they want. It’s their life, too. Watch how quick they come to you!” They laughed together. Later, Lettie asked her children and they wanted to go home with her right then. Lettie was happy. She said to Hosanna, “I seen some things where I been. People travelin and doin all kinds of good things. I want my children to have a education, go to college. I want their life to be better. I’m gonna work hard and see that they do if I can.”

  Lettie went to see Sally to tell her about her beauty school license. Sally told her, “If I help you get your teaching credentials, you can come here and teach these girls cosmetology also. If they don’t want to work at it, you can teach them how to care for themselves. I have all kinds of students now, and four teachers. White, Negro, and Indian. Lil Wisdom is talking about trying to go back to school and college. If she does, and finishes, she will be teaching. Ann is almost ready for college, if I can make her go. She hates to leave here, and she wants to teach over on the Indian land. But I want her to have a better education and to be independent. You never know what will happen in life.”

  “So everything is alright.”

  Sally smiled, “Just I’m getting old is all that’s wrong, but … At last, everything is alright. I’m satisfied.”

  chapter

  48

  the old black widow spider was now fourteen or fifteen years old. She had returned from her last foray, full again, impregnated again. She burrowed down deep into her homeplant for the place to make a cocoon for the babies. But this time when the babies were born, because she didn’t need as much food as when she was younger, she ate them more slowly and they had time to grow large before they could all be eaten. Finally one, a female, was left. She grew hungry as her mother slept. The daughter didn’t remember their relationship. She only knew, here was food. She ate the old spider, leaving only a husk. Then she curled up to rest and digest.

  Old Mrs. Carlene Befoe died not too long after the spider. She was alone in the house at the time. An old tray of food sat uneaten by the bed. She had lain there staring at the ceiling trying to think of someone she could call. She knew she was dying.

  She started to cry soundlessly. Tears rolled down the expensive wrinkles on to the expensive satin and lace pillowcase. “No one knows I am dying.” She thought, “No one knows I am here alone, dying.” Her heart was beating irregularly, weakly. She cried a while longer until she bec
ame angry because no one was there. “I have money,” she thought. She struggled to get up to get her checkbooks; slowly she reached her desk, got them and dragged herself back to her bed. “I am so tired, so tired.” Her breath was ragged as she struggled to hold the checkbooks and get into her bed. “I have money.” She didn’t quite make it under the covers but lay on top of the slightly soiled, mussed linen. She thought it was only a moment since she had said those words, but it was an hour or so later when she became conscious again. “I pay Minna my good money and she is not here.” She slipped into unconsciousness again. When she came out of it, she felt cold and numb. She tried to lift her arm to set the checkbooks down so she could get up. She could not move her arm. She felt herself slipping into unconsciousness again; the numbness had moved from her feet up to her breast. Darkness swept over her body, she slept. When she came out of it for the last time an hour or so later, she said only two words before she died, still clutching the checkbooks she could not let go of if she had wanted to. “Richard.… Richard.… God?” Then, her old heart stopped and she was gone. Minna found her two days later. Minna had been mad at Carlene for something she could not remember and had only just returned.

  Minna cried and cried all over the little town. People wondered at all her tears. Finally Hosanna asked her, “Do you really miss Carlene Befoe so much?”

  “No,” Minna wailed, “I couldn’t stand that ole woman! I’m crying cause I got to look for another job and there ain’t nothin in this ole town to find,” and off she went into tears again.

  There was a short funeral service for Carlene Befoe. Carlton couldn’t make it because of business commitments, he said. Richlene, Emily and Sally attended, riding in the funeral car together on the dismal, rainy day. A few people who did not come sent flowers in their place.

  After Mrs. Befoe’s funeral, Emily came back to the old house, looking it over to decide where her apartments would be when Carlton moved back. His return was imminent now. It was clear that they did not like each other, and she wanted to watch him when she could. She wanted Richlene to return again to Philadelphia with her.