God Still Don’t Like Ugly

by Mary Monroe

  “Again,” I muttered, grabbing a beer for myself.

  “Uh-huh. Again.” Scary Mary nodded. “But I ain’t no fool. The girl is just plain lazy.” She sighed and shook her head, smiling like she had a secret. “She so young and I’m so old, but I’m crazy about this child,” Scary Mary said, massaging Carlene’s back. “I see myself in her when I was her age.”

  I glanced out of the window over my sink, thinking about how I’d felt the same way about P.

  Shaking her head and backing away, Carlene retorted, “My back is out! And I ain’t lazy!” Carlene had on a rumpled trench coat. She slid her hands into her pockets and shifted her body into a position so extreme I thought she was going to fall across my kitchen table. She fished a stick of Juicy Fruit chewing gum out of her pocket and stuffed it into her mouth.

  “Gal, you won’t get far in this business ’til you start suckin’ dick,” Scary Mary hollered, snapping her fingers in Carlene’s angry face.

  “Nuh-uh…nuh-uh,” Carlene replied, shaking her head and cracking her gum. “I ain’t puttin’ no nasty, stinky pecker in my mouth. Ain’t no tellin’ what kinds of health problems I’d end up with.”

  Scary Mary slapped her hand onto her hip and got so close up in Carlene’s face, their noses touched. “All them chitlins, Big Macs, and fried chicken you eat is doin’ a lot more damage to your health than you slurpin’ on a few peckers, honey child.”

  Carlene dropped her head and started sniffling. Scary Mary snatched a handkerchief out of her bra and wiped tears off of Carlene’s face and we returned to my living room.

  God answered a lot of people’s prayer the following Saturday night. Right after I returned from taking Daddy and Lillimae to the airport, Pee Wee rushed over to my house, frantic and out of breath, with his latest eyewitness report. He had just come from Jean’s house. He told me that Carmine Antonosanti had confronted Vinnie with some information that P. had shared with Rhoda’s daughter Jade during P.’s last sleepover at Rhoda’s house.

  Rhoda and her husband had brought Jade to Jean’s house to tell her story. In a child’s words, Jade told how P. had revealed to her that “Mr. Vinnie made P. do the nasty with him almost every day.”

  Instead of denying the allegation, Vinnie Gambiano had cooked his goose by confessing that he had killed P. “by accident.” Jean and Rhoda had attacked Vinnie with lamps and chairs. They had literally beaten him out of his clothes. Vinnie fled from Jean’s house wearing nothing but his underwear and one shoe.

  Not less than an hour later, the police found Vinnie on the ground behind Antonosanti’s restaurant with a bullet in the back of his head. Old Mr. Carmine Antonosanti, one step away from the grave himself, had already admitted executing Vinnie and turned himself in to the police.

  I was surprised when Rhoda showed up at my house with Muh’Dear and Scary Mary later that same night. Rhoda’s face was bruised and her hair was askew from the mayhem she had participated in. But there was a triumphant grin on her face. It would be one of the most memorable nights of my life.

  “Vinnie was lucky I wasn’t there to help them gals whup his ass,” Scary Mary said angrily, shaking her gnarled, liver-spotted fist.

  “Lucky is one thing Vinnie ain’t,” Muh’ Dear added. “But I blame Jean for this mess. She should have done somethin’ the first time her baby told her Vinnie touched her,” Muh’Dear said, handing Scary Mary a can of beer from the big bag she had brought along with her. “With all the grown women ’round this town screamin’ for somebody to pester them, ain’t no grown man got to go around rapin’ no child!”

  “From what I heard, Jean didn’t believe that child ’til it was too late nohow!” Scary Mary said hotly. Her jaws moved so fast and hard that her false teeth started to click and slip. “That child didn’t have to die!”

  “Kids do tell lies against folks they don’t like! It ain’t no secret P. didn’t like Vinnie!” Muh’Dear offered, sitting down so hard on one of my chairs it squeaked.

  It seemed like I was the only calm person in the room. “The man did threaten to hurt P. if she ever told,” I said evenly.

  Standing in the middle of my living room floor with her arms folded and a menacing look on her face, Rhoda cleared her throat and nodded at me. “And most kids usually don’t lie about things like that.”

  “Well, I’d have believed my daughter if she had told me some nasty motherfucker was messin’ with her.” Muh’Dear sniffed. “All my girl would have needed to do was tell me and I’d have dealt with whoever that devil was and asked questions later.”

  Rhoda nodded more vigorously in my direction. I read her lips as she silently mouthed to me, “Tell…now.”

  I nodded back at her and cleared my throat. Then I said as calmly as I could, “Mr. Boatwright and Vinnie were two of a kind.”

  A wall-to-wall smile appeared on Rhoda’s face.

  All eyes were on me. I didn’t know where to start.

  CHAPTER 63

  M

  uh’Dear gasped and almost slid out of her chair. “You say Brother Boatwright was just like Vinnie? What’s that supposed to mean, Annette?”

  Muh’Dear tilted her head and gave me a dry look, lifting both her eyebrows. Then she started blinking real hard and shaking her head.

  I waited until Muh’Dear composed herself. Then I sucked in my breath and stole another glance at Rhoda before I responded. “Every chance he got, Mr. Boatwright had his way with me.” My voice was ringing in my ears. “Sometimes two and three times in the same day.”

  The room got so quiet I could hear the clock ticking on the wall above my television set. Scary Mary’s mouth dropped open and she leaned forward. Muh’Dear’s eyes got as big as saucers. Pee Wee stood up and put his hands on his hips.

  “Why in the world would you say somethin’ like that?” Muh’Dear yelled, glaring at me. “Why would you bad-mouth a man like Brother Boatwright? With him dead and buried and unable to speak for hisself. What’s wrong with you, girl?!”

  “Because it’s true,” Rhoda announced evenly, her right jaw twitching. “That old-ass man was a lyin’, child-rapin’ son of a bitch.”

  With a loud gasp, Muh’Dear turned to Rhoda. “Both of y’all done lost your minds. Don’t neither one of you drink nary one of them beers. This ain’t one bit funny. What in the world is y’all tryin’ to say?”

  I surprised myself by remaining calm. “Muh’Dear, Mr. Boatwright started messing with me when I was seven. He didn’t stop until, until…well, he stopped because he died.” At this point, I glanced at Pee Wee. His eyes were on Rhoda. I had never seen Rhoda look as smug as she did now. Scary Mary was so still she looked like an old statue. Her mouth was hanging open so wide now, I could see the top of her dentures.

  “Tell them about the baby,” Rhoda insisted, making a sweeping gesture with her hand. Bracelets on her wrist clicked like coins.

  “That time I got pregnant, Mr. Boatwright was the one responsible,” I confessed.

  Muh’Dear was beside herself. Her eyes blinked rapidly, her lips quivered. “Girl, why in the world didn’t you tell somebody?” Muh’Dear screamed. She rose from her chair so fast, the chair fell over. She looked at me like I had just sprouted horns. “Don’t you think you done got too old for me to whup your behind! Lyin’ is one of the deadliest sins. If all what you sayin’ is even half true, how come you didn’t tell me, girl?”

  “I was too scared. He threatened me and told me he would do all kinds of stuff if I told. He even said he would kill you if I ran away from home. You and everybody else were so in love with that old man, I didn’t think I’d have a chance. I knew that Rhoda was the only person I could turn to and I knew that Rhoda would stand by me. She saw right through Mr. Boatwright and all of his lies.” I turned to Scary Mary. “And your foster daughter Florence, she saw through Mr. Boatwright, too, and she was as blind as a bat.”

  “You and Rhoda told me everything else! Why didn’t y’all tell me this shit, too? I would have believed you,” Pee
Wee said, his voice cracking. “I thought you told me everything.”

  “Not everything,” I mumbled, unable to look in Pee Wee’s eyes as he glared at me.

  “That no-good, low-down bastard. Annette, I would have believed you if you had come to me. I knew you wasn’t the kind of kid to tell lies that bold and ugly. If Boatwright wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him with my own hands,” Scary Mary shrieked. It was the first time I ever saw tears on her face. “Lord, you can’t trust half the men on this planet. My own granddaddy put his hands on me when I was a child. He threatened to feed me to his hogs, but I told my mama anyway.” Scary Mary paused and wiped her face with the sleeve of her blouse. “She didn’t believe me and that’s the very reason I left home when I was thirteen. Even after they caught my granddaddy messin’ with one of my cousins, they still didn’t believe me.” Scary Mary paused long enough to catch her breath. “There I was, a young girl on my own durin’ the Depression. I rode them train rails in boxcars with them hoboes and other displaced peoples, doin’ whatever I had to do to survive them mean streets. All because some man couldn’t keep his dick out of me. And that’s the very reason I ended up doin’ what I do now. I make ’em pay for it with cold, hard cash, every goddamn time. Me, I went one better—I started makin’ ’em pay me for other women’s pussy, too. After my granddaddy, I never let another man take advantage of me.”

  The room remained silent for a few moments after Scary Mary’s outburst.

  Rhoda broke the silence by clearing her throat first. Then she started talking in a low, controlled voice through clenched teeth. “Everybody that knew me as a child, knew better than to lay a hand on my body. And if somebody ever touches my baby girl…well, let’s just say he’ll regret it ’til the day he dies—which wouldn’t be too long after that.” Rhoda sniffed and turned to Pee Wee. “Brother-man, I hope you don’t feel dumped on, bein’ the only man up in here. All of y’all are not bad and we all know that. It’s just some men we’re talkin’ about. And a precious few at that.”

  Pee Wee blinked and looked around the room, resting his eyes on me. “I hope y’all don’t think I’m like that. I would never touch nobody’s child! Matter of fact, girls ain’t the only ones get messed with.” He paused and there was a collective sigh in the room as we all looked at Pee Wee. He cleared his throat before continuing in a labored voice. “When I was five, livin’ in Pennsylvania, before my mama passed, one of her female friends used to baby-sit me. As soon as she got me alone, she would make me put my head between her legs and…lick her. That nasty bitch! One time her crotch had such a unholy stench, I almost threw up in her lap. Oh, but she wasn’t goin’ to be outdone by no little-bitty boy like me. She made me suck on her long-ass, flat-ass titties. I bit the nipple off one of ’em, spit it out on the floor, and I ran out in the street screamin’. She fell out on the floor screamin’ herself, with blood squirtin’ from a hole in her tittie. Somebody went and got my mama and my daddy and they took turns whuppin’ that heifer’s ass, bleedin’ tittie and all. I think that episode is what killed my mama. She never got over puttin’ me in that predicament. That’s the reason Daddy packed me up and we moved out here to Ohio.”

  Muh’Dear dropped her head and shook it for a moment before she looked at me. “Annette, baby, I don’t care what Brother Boatwright said he would do to you, I would have protected you. The police would have found that son of bitch in pieces by the time they picked him up. I should have known that that hound from hell was too good to be true. There he was with his one-legged, black ass, layin’ up in my house, on top of my baby—I hope he’s sizzlin’ in hell right now!” Muh’Dear started moving about the room, picking up empty beer cans and straightening furniture. “I would have killed that son of a bitch if I’d known.”

  “And I would have helped you kill him,” Scary Mary added, waving her fist in the air.

  Scary Mary got so upset she had to leave. Pee Wee left shortly afterward.

  Muh’Dear patted her chest and folded her arms. “Other than Brother Boatwright, was there any other man that took advantage of you when you was comin’ up?” Muh’Dear asked, looking from me to Rhoda.

  “No, ma’am,” I managed.

  “What about Albert?”

  “Daddy King was a decent man, Muh’Dear. And he was a good husband to you. He wasn’t that kind of man.”

  “What about your daddy? He had plenty opportunities to pester you when you and him was alone out there in them woods fishin’ in them lakes when we lived in Florida.”

  I gasped. “Muh’Dear, Daddy was not that kind of man. He would never do something like that.”

  “Rhoda, I am so sorry you had to hear all this,” Muh’Dear said, turning to Rhoda again.

  “And my daddy was a decent man, too,” Rhoda said. “But as decent and peaceful as he was, he would have taken care of old Buttwright with his own hands if Annette had let me tell him.” Turning to me, Rhoda said gently, “I never told you, but one time my daddy said he’d noticed Buttwright lookin’ at you the wrong way. He asked me if you’d ever said anything about that old goat touchin’ you.” Rhoda let out her breath and gave me a sad look. “I told him no.”

  Muh’Dear finally came over to me on the couch and hugged me. “You doin’ okay, baby?” she asked, almost choking on her words.

  “I’m fine now. I was lucky I had a friend like Rhoda to go to. Talking to her about Mr. Boatwright is what got me through it.”

  “I am sorry for not seein’ that dead-ass motherfucker for the monster he was. I don’t know how I’m goin’ to make this up to you. I didn’t do my job ’cause I failed you and I ain’t never goin’ to forget that. I don’t know how I’m goin’ to live with that now.”

  “You didn’t fail me. I failed myself by waiting until now to tell you. But Muh’Dear, you can’t do anything about it now. Mr. Boatwright had to answer to God. We all will someday.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Rhoda drop her head and reach for her coat.

  CHAPTER 64

  N

  ow that the horror of what I had experienced at Mr. Boatwright’s hands was out in the open, I felt like I had just been released from a prison.

  I felt free.

  My startling confession changed Muh’Dear in ways I was glad to see. One of the first things she did was to destroy that wretched picture of Mr. Boatwright that she’d kept on the mantel above her fireplace for so many years. After she ripped it to pieces, she tossed it into that same fireplace. She bent over backward to make sure I was happy and safe. She had new locks installed on all of the doors in my house. She offered to buy me a gun, which I graciously declined. She offered me money I didn’t need, she came by more often, and she started treating Daddy the way I had been praying for. She called him to check on his health and she even invited him to visit her in Ohio and stay with her in her house. That was a major move and it helped the healing of my emotional wounds.

  “Frank don’t like the weather up here so he ain’t too crazy about comin’ back no time soon. But I just might take a notion and go down there to visit him and that gal Lillimae sometime soon,” Muh’Dear told me, walking through my house, checking all the locks.

  In one of her letters, Lillimae told me that Muh’Dear had told her and Daddy what I had revealed about Mr. Boatwright. I was not surprised when Lillimae told me about an incident involving her and one of Daddy’s fishing buddies. The man had fondled Lillimae and threatened to take her to the Everglades and feed her to some creature if she told. Lillimae had told anyway and Daddy had beaten the man to a pulp.

  Old Mr. Carmine Antonosanti died before he could be brought to trial for killing Vinnie and Jean was finally able to smile once again. But she was never the same. I was not surprised when she quit her job at the phone company and packed up and moved to Brooklyn to live with her older brother and his family.

  By the end of February, Rhoda and I were once again inseparable. I knew that it had a lot to do with my confession. I was so glad to have her ba
ck in my life. I enjoyed visiting her at her lavishly decorated house on Patterson Street. Just like the house she had grown up in across the street from me, plush white furniture decorated almost every room. And the smell of roses permeated the air. Her husband Otis tooled around town in a pickup truck, but Rhoda had a Ford station wagon that she used to haul around the four young children she took care of five days a week. A couple of childless old maids from her church helped her operate her child-care center, so Rhoda could always get away to spend time doing other things. Every Monday, Rhoda came to my job to pick me up for lunch.

  One Saturday afternoon, during a spaghetti and Chianti lunch in her neat little kitchen, Rhoda laughed until she cried when I told her about my disastrous relationship with Jerome. It didn’t even faze her when I told her why Jerome had dumped me.

  “So what if you sold a little pussy. Sooner or later every woman uses her body to get over, one way or another. How else can we keep our men in line?” Rhoda laughed.

  Then Rhoda shared some of her pain with me. I hated it, but I had to admit that even I supported the “misery loves company” belief. I was glad to hear that Rhoda’s life had not been all peaches and cream.

  “One of the reasons we left Florida was to get away from my husband’s mistress,” she told me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “A heifer almost young enough to be his daughter.” A fierce scowl suddenly appeared on her face as she stared at the wall behind me. I got nervous when her eye started twitching. And I got downright scared when she balled her fist and slammed it on the table, making a napkin sail to the floor. I knew better than anybody did how much wrath she could inflict.