Descendants of Hagar

by Nik Nicholson

  “People knew when Miemay asked you about your business, it what’n to judge or gossip, it was to help.” I’m smiling thinking bout Miemay. “She loved people. She healed people. She birthed babies and led spirits home.

  “Still they called her a witch, and feared ‘a power. She was the last person to fear, but somehow she was everybody’s first. I think about ‘a when I’m hiring people to help me here. I thought about ‘a, when the people told me they didn’t want me in the business meetings no more.

  “I’m always thinking bout whether I’m living my life the way Miemay expected. You know she gave me my own dowry so I could keep myself, to follow my spirit, and do more than exist. She once said, I was the only one with the potential to really be free.”

  I realize I’m getting away from the conversation, thinking bout Miemay. So I say, “Death and dying, well, it’s just the way it is. What you gone do while you alive, that’s what you got power over, and that’s what you need to be worrying about.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  FOLLOWING MY HEART

  I’m in the kitchen when I hear Coley come in the house without so much as a word, then run up the steps.

  I follow her.

  She just start opening drawers, and putting things in neat little piles around her room. Seem like she so deep in ‘a own thoughts, she don’t even know I’m here. But I know she know, she can feel me, cause I feel her, leaving.

  I just wait, watch, and don’t speak or ask questions, gone give her a minute. Coley a talker. When she ready, she’ll tell me what she want me to know. Plus, I don’t want to scare ‘a, by telling ‘a what I need or want from ‘a, when she done decided what she need for ‘aself. Feel it in my spirit she ready to defend ‘aself, and she done got ‘aself pumped up for a challenge. Iain against ‘a.

  We silent for so long, I stop leaning in ‘a bedroom door, and go sit in the window. I never take my eyes off of ‘a, and she never look at me. She ain slept in here since Hank was hung, since she started having all them nightmares. She scared to be in the dark. She thinking she see Hank all the time. This room don’t even feel lived in, just a way for ‘a to have ‘a things in they own place.

  “Today I sent word letting my parents know when to expect me back home,” she admits firm and sad. Pulling out a suitcase, she starts to pick things up and put ’em inside. “I needed to let Mama know where I was. We haven’t communicated since I left.

  “I have responsibilities. I’ve made commitments. I’m suppose to be married now. I can already feel it settling in on me, all the ways I’ve disappointed Mama.”

  She still ain never looked up, she speaking more to ‘aself, but I’m here, hearing ‘a.

  “Soon as I dropped the letter off, I felt my hair, how thick and nappy it is. Then I thought, ‘I need to get my hair done before I see Mama.’ The idea of hot combing my hair made me cry. I don’t want to worry about my hair so much anymore. I want to love it the way it is. Want to be loved, the way I’m is. The way I am.” She corrects ‘aself. Then she stops, stands up straight to take an account of the room.

  Running ‘a hands over the two thick braids in ‘a head, she looks at me for the first time, and I wonder, if she trying to figure a way to correct this, us. But she don’t say nothing to me, she just keeps on straightening, and talking.

  “I mean, white women aren’t going through all this with they hair… their hair. When I really think about it, no other race of women is going through all us Colored women go through just to look…. decent. What’s decent anyway?” She sits down hard but proper at the foot of ‘a bed.

  I can see her posture already changing. She ain as relaxed as she had gotten here.

  “Then again, I know Mama would say a proper lady straightens her hair. I can hear her saying how she has good hair, but me and my youngest sister have our father’s genes.

  “I like my nappy hair. I don’t like when other people don’t like it. I don’t want people to think I’m ugly. I don’t like feeling ugly. Mama makes me feel so ugly.” She cries hard.

  I want to go and hold ‘a, and tell ‘a how beautiful she is, but this Coley ain’t the Coley that makes love with Linny. This the Coley who steps on the earth like the whole world need to be swept. This the Coley need someone else to be happy fore she is. And me and her happiness ain’t the happiness she worried bout. I’m worrying now, what’s gone come of us, in this place where I finally found love possible, and she feeling all out of sorts.

  I want to tell ‘a how she can be anything she wont, do whatever she wont. But then I already know what she gone say back. “Linny, Iain strong like you. You’re different from me.” She don’t never see who she is, who she could be. She don’t never see how happy we could both be, if she would just stop living for other people.

  “Ain’t nothing here for me if you go,” I admit, and watch ‘a turn away to pack more things. She folds everything again, sharper and lays them just so. I see ‘a trying to lose ‘aself in the packing, in the moving, and I’m trying to, too. But I’m losing ‘a, Iain able to be absent for that.

  “I can’t get my hair pressed hard before I go.” She sit down, put ‘a hands in a lap and sit up.

  I feel like Coley ain hearing me at all.

  “I’ve gotten so dark. Mama is going to have a fit when she sees how dark I’ve gotten.” She stand smoothing ‘a dress down again, and taking another once over of the room.

  Almost looks like she was never here, cept for the scent of ‘a perfume. Cept for how my spirit feeling touched, and how it’s on edge expecting to never be touched again.

  “I think you’re beautiful, just the way you is.”

  “I know,” she say, dismissing what I said like what I think ain’t enough.

  That hurt me. Now I’m sad. I miss ‘a being happy and feeling beautiful. I wish it was something I could do to fix how she feeling.

  “I don’t think I can live without you,” I say, just above a whisper.

  “I know,” she admits and turns away, looking at the floor, her lip trembling and ‘a eyes red with tears. “I don’t know if there’s a place there for you, for us. Never felt like there was a place for me there. For a moment, this felt like my place.”

  I smile at ‘a, walking over to the bed. “Wherever I am, there will always be a place for you. Places aren’t home, people are.”

  “Hank would have never come here if I hadn’t wrote him that letter. He would still be alive if it wasn’t for me. I should have listened to you, Linny. You warned me. You told me to shut my mouth, and think about what I was doing, before I got someone killed.”

  “You cain’t blame yourself for what happened.” I stare at ‘a sitting with ‘a head down. We done had this talk a thousand times, bout how she cain’t change the past. Bout how the Klan responsible for what happened to Hank and nobody else.

  “How can two people be murdered and nothing happen? The people didn’t even say anything. They thanked God when Hank came forward. Nobody tried to fight for him,” she cries harder, “not even me.”

  Taking a deep breath, I just look at ‘a, and try to search for the words. I ask God for the words. I’m always talking to God, but it still ain’t no way to explain what happened. It’s unnatural to kill a young man, to force his spirit out his body foreit’s time. Still ain’t nobody but the people who killing folks responsible.

  “Ain no reason for you to feel guilty, Coley. If you feel guilty, then maybe it’s a little of Eudora’s fault, too. She so sweet Hank couldn’t leave without hearing ‘a sing. Remember, he was gone, then he had to come back to hear ‘a one more time fore he left.

  “Maybe it’s Reverend’s fault. I feel like he knew they was coming and didn’t tell us. Then again, he did all he could, he told us not to go. He made sure Hank was gone. For all we know his family was on the line. Mr. Beaumont did tell him he better not find out there was a recruiter in town and The Reverend was lying to him. He practically told Reverend it was his life or Hank’s.

&nbs
p; “Maybe it’s Ma Rainey’s fault, cause all the men leaving thought it’d be good to have one last good night in Georgia fore they headed to Chicago.

  “Then again, maybe it’s Hank’s fault, cause he was spose to be gone. But if he hadn’t of been here, how many other men would have hung in his place? His blood ain’t on your hands. He is a man who made a decision. He’s been a recruiter for years.

  “When we told him it what’n safe here, he told us stories bout the Klan raiding houses in Mississippi, Tennessee and Alabama, looking for ’im. Remember? He said he jumped on a cargo train in the middle of the night, almost naked.

  “We laughed, but he was running for his life then. He understood the risks. He did a dangerous job, baby. If he had left like he said he was going to, he’d still be alive. But then, you always gotta wonder how many other men would have died in his place?”

  “I just think,” she say, shaking ‘a head and crying, “I’ve done so much wrong in my life. Two men are dead all because of me. I didn’t even know the other man. Then I had to write Hank’s family, and tell them why he was never coming home. His family knows my family. It was only a matter of time before Mama came for me.”

  Wiping ‘a face with ‘a sleeve and sniffing hard, she different, changing right before my eyes. “I’ve disappointed so many people, and now, I know you say it isn’t my fault, but it feels like more of the same.”

  “Baby, you got the rest of your life to make mistakes. Some of them you won’t be able to correct, but the ones you can, you will.”

  “I have to go back then. I’ve made some I can correct.”

  “I guess you have to go back then,” I resolve, looking at ‘a and feeling how empty this room feels. I feel how empty this house gone feel when she gone.

  “Oh Linny.” She dabs ‘a eyes on ‘a sleeve, crying gently and laughing more than anything else in this genuine way that’s new. It ain’t that stupid laugh when she feeling off ‘a mark.

  Then she push me and say, “You know I use to think you were so simple, but it isn’t that at all. You’re still innocent. You still believe in first loves and forever after.” Then ‘a tears turn to a moan that is a grave dug too soon, to bury necessary things.

  “I love you.” I kiss ‘a. “And if you love me, really love me… You seem to be the kind of woman who… makes decisions to make everybody else happy. You seem like the kind of woman who counts disappointing people as failure. I love you so much, I don’t want you to be unhappy, and I don’t want you to say things you don’t mean.”

  I look into ‘a soul, the way I do when I’m making love to ‘a. “If this ain’t what you want, if Iain what you want, I want you to be able to say that, and be happy.”

  “Oh Linny, I can see it in your eyes. You’d be disappointed.”

  “Iain say I wouldn’t be hurt,” I confess in a firm whisper, threatened to be strangled by my own feelings. “I’d be crushed, at first. Then I’d think about you being happy, and it’d soothe my soul… to let you go… cause that’s what you wanted. I don’t want to… love you against your will.”

  She kisses me, and looks in my eyes. “Why couldn’t you have just been a man?”

  “Cause it’s far more amazing when a woman does a man’s job.” I laugh and she does too, holding my hand and leaning into me.

  I stare into ‘a soul. I want to feel the truth. I’ll let her go even if she says what I want to hear, if I feel it ain’t what she mean, what she need. I don’t want to hurt ‘a even when she willing to hurt ‘aself.

  Closing my eyes, I rest my forehead against hers and let the words come. I want her to know how I feel, and I want her to tell me how she feels.

  “I want to go home with you, Coley.”

  “All I can do is try,” she whispers crying, and I know she is sincere. “I don’t want to hurt you, Linny. Baby, I’ve disappointed so many people. I don’t want to break your heart.”

  “If you leave without me, it’ll break my heart anyway. Break it now, or break it later. I vote later.”

  “Later.” She kisses me, nodding ‘a head ‘yes,’ then kissing me deeper.

  We who have the Spirit are able to make judgments about all these things. But anyone without the Spirit is not able to make proper judgments about us.

  1 Corinthians 2:15 ERV (Easy-To-Read Version)

  Daughter Of Zion

  Linny and Coley move to New York with World War I brewing, the Harlem Renaissance just beginning and the Industrial Revolution in full swing.

  TAILORED TO FIT

  “Keep your arms up!” Reggie, a tailor friend of Ms. Lula Belle orders me, when I think it’s safe to rest my arm while he working on the other side.

  We’re in his shop, standing on a platform in the center of a room of mirrors, with my arms out the way I’ve seen Jesus on the cross. My arms tired. I’m tired of Reggie sticking me, too.

  “Would you be still, honey!” Reggie fuss.

  “Now that’s it.” Ms. Lula Belle puts her drink down then eases off her stool onto her heels. Then she come strut slow round me, staring like I’m a mannequin. “Now this is how a butch supposed to look. Reggie you out did yourself.”

  “It helps that my subject is stunning.” Reggie says slapping my tail, shocking all the hell out of me.

  It’s reflex when I turn to look at him like he’s crazy.

  “Don’t worry honey I don’t want nothing you got, and you shole can’t handle none of this,” Reggie tease.

  Iain upset as I would have thought. Still, I can’t seem to let it go. I don’t know how to be.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have smacked your tail,” Reggie say, staring in my eyes. “Sometimes I get carried away. I’m just excited about all the business I’m gone get when other butches see how well I’ve suited you.”

  “Iain never met no man, like you,” I finally say. It’s all I can say without being offensive. Then I relax and turn back around and let him work.

  “And you never will!” Reggie signifies. “I haven’t found another man this gorgeous, intelligent, charming and just plain fierce, myself. Lord knows I been praying for him and searching.”

  “I been looking for me one too, chile,” Ms. Lula Belle jump in.

  I got so many questions. Iain never met men openly being like women. I want to know where Reggie from. I want to know how many other people like him, like me, and like Ms. Lula Belle. How long he knew he liked men? “Does your father know?” escapes me.

  “I don’t know what my father knows,” Reggie answer.

  “And don’t care, either.” Ms. Lula Belle add, bitterly.

  “I haven’t wrote or called home since I left,” Reggie add. “I miss some things about home. But not enough to visit. I had to accept that Harlem is home. Ain’t no place for me below the Mason-Dixon Line.”

  “You better for moving and accepting that,” Ms. Lula Belle console him. “You can’t live where people won’t allow you to be. My mama gave me all the money she had one day, told me to leave and never come back. Mama said she could see it in me, a hard life and a bad death, if I stayed. She said my own daddy would kill me if he knew what I was.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, feeling responsible for stirring up they sorrow. I consider my own daddy, my eldest sister Ella, me and Coley. How I could never tell my family how much I loved her.

  Examining me for a new place to stitch, Reggie starts again working.

  “Alright, Reggie! I love it,” A woman speaks, opening the changing room door and stepping out, like we was always waiting to hear her opinion. Her spirit lift the mood.

  I can’t see the woman from where I’m standing, but I feel her.

  “Oh now that is nice, Lia,” Ms. Lula Belle gushes.

  “Uh- Lill- Yah!” Reggie claps syllables at Ms. Lula Belle. “Cain’t cho country ass say nothing right? You know how socialites are about their name changes.”

  I look at Ms. Lula Belle waiting for ‘a to jump full fool on Reggie, but she throw ‘a hair back laughing,
loud and hard. “Cause I shole know how we queens and sissy’s is bout ours’.”

  “You look nice,” A’Lelia say, staring at me. “Now, she is the most handsome butch I’ve seen. I love this suit, too.” She walk around me the way Ms. Lula Belle had, but it’s different. It’s almost like she might touch me if it what’n for Reggie. The way I’m feeling under her gaze ain’t something I’m use to. She don’t hide that she maybe liking me the way a woman should like a man.

  I forget my arms tired. I’m trying to disappear. For the first time, I take a good look at myself in the mirrors. I’m wearing cream with tan pin striped pants, and a shirt cut just for me. The darts on this shirt where they need to be, and it’s shorter too. All the other shirts I have like big tents stuffed in my pants.

  “When are you going to make me something like this, Reggie?” A’Lelia tease.

  “Where would you wear a tailored men’s suit to A’Lelia?” Ms. Lula Belle doubt her. “Madam Walker would have a heart attack if you even mentioned the notion.”

  “Mama wouldn’t have to know. Plus, it would drive people crazy! I’d be the talk of the town. They already don’t know what to make of me, especially considering the company I keep.”

  “It ain’t just the company you keep,” Reggie add, examining me, making sure he ain’t miss nothing. “Plus, it don’t matter what you do people always gone have something to say.”

  “People always got something to say when a woman got her own things, whether you in a suit or dress,” Ms. Lula Belle speak, staring at me like she somewhere else, chasing her own train of thoughts.

  “Ain’t that the truth,” A’Lelia cosign.

  “Vest!” Reggie shouts. Then a man comes with a matching vest and helps me put it on. It’s not completely stitched.

  “Pins!” Reggie holds his hand out behind him expecting someone to fill it. Ms. Lula Belle hands Reggie the pins. He starts to taper it to my body; humming, pinching, and sticking me.