On the Corner of Hope and Main

by Beverly Jenkins

  “Was anybody hurt?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  That was good news, but her grandmother’s house held nothing but bad memories so, unlike Paula, Robyn was glad it was gone.

  They drove home through the rain, and after dinner, Paula stayed at the table to work on Sunday’s sermon. It was Robyn’s day to do the kitchen cleanup, so she stashed the leftovers in the fridge and fed the dirty dishes to the dishwasher.

  Paula looked up and asked, “Do you want to tour some colleges over the holiday break?”

  Robyn shrugged. “I suppose.”

  “You sound so excited.”

  That made Robyn smile. “I’m just not sure what I want to do after I’m done with school. Did you know when you graduated?”

  “I thought I wanted to be a lawyer because one of the women in our apartment building was one, but after Mom died and I went to live with Tyree, all I wanted was to leave Blackbird.”

  “Totally feel you on that.” Robyn rinsed one of the glasses and put it on the dishwasher rack. “All the kids in my class seem to have their lives figured out. Leah says she was born to be a physicist. Amari wanted to race cars, but now wants to study anthropology. Zoey’s going to be a musician. Wyatt’s down with cartography. I feel like something’s wrong with me because I don’t.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you. Most of them have had enough time to settle into life. They have supportive parents and a great teacher. They’ve traveled and had lots of beneficial experiences. You’ve lacked that during your early years, but it isn’t your fault.”

  Paula’s response mirrored her own thinking that her friends had been exposed to way more than she had. “So how do I figure out what I want to do?”

  “Pick something you’re passionate about, or curious about. Sometimes our purpose picks us. You’re only eighteen, Roby, you have plenty of time to decide on the future, and if you don’t want to go to college, you can pick an alternative. You can do the Peace Corps or help President Carter build homes with Habitat for Humanity. You have some money socked away, so you have options.”

  “I never thought about doing something like the Peace Corps or any other group that helps people.”

  “Working on behalf of the less fortunate can be immensely rewarding, not only for them but for you as well.”

  Robyn thought that over. “So, if I do want to look at colleges, which ones should I pick?”

  “I’d put Spelman on the list, of course, but do some research and see what schools you might want to visit. I think a mix of big ones and small ones might be the way to start. Do you want to go to KU? Out of state? Do you want warm weather? Snow? Factor all those things in when you make your list.”

  “Sounds like homework.”

  Paula smiled and nodded. “Homework for your future.”

  “One last question. Do you think I’ll ever have a boyfriend?”

  “Do you want one?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then how about you concentrate on getting Robyn ready for life first, and if and when the time comes for a boy, you’ll be better prepared to decide who to pick.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You want someone who appreciates you for you. Who’s kind to you, supports you, and won’t try and control your life, or keep you from having friends.”

  “There are guys who do that?”

  “Yes, women too, and unfortunately people who fall prey to them in the name of love.”

  “Oh. I don’t want that.”

  “And you shouldn’t.”

  “Not trying to be nosy but why haven’t you married somebody?”

  Paula shrugged. “Haven’t found the right person yet. Having to share me with God scared off a lot of men.”

  Robyn thought she understood that. “Thanks for letting me interrupt you.”

  “Anytime.”

  Robyn finished her chores, did her homework, then booted up her laptop to begin researching colleges, the Peace Corps, and Habitat for Humanity.

  Chapter

  13

  Now that the candidates had their signs in place, campaigning began in earnest. Riley spent his days at the salon trying to convince everyone who entered that he was the only man for the job. He was pleased hearing that some of the men agreed and wouldn’t be voting for a woman. He spent the rest of the time bragging about his billboard.

  Thad and the Julys campaigned by holding court at the Dog and driving all over town blowing kazoos and drumming in the bed of an old hay wagon with his smiling face plastered on the side along with his slogan: “Take a Gamble on July.” Sheila spent her evenings meeting with the various constituencies in the area: farmers, families, construction workers, men and women in the trades. She even met with the staff at Clark’s Grocery. Barrett went with her as her driver, and watching her interact, ask questions, and listen intently made him incredibly proud. His blooming pride was one of the things he’d discussed in his session with Paula a few days ago. It was their first meeting and he’d been as nervous as a new recruit at boot camp. Preston had been correct, however. Paula was easy to talk to, and never made him feel as if something was wrong with him for being there. In discussing his uneasiness, she assured him it was natural, and that she’d not pressure him to reveal more about himself than he wanted to lay on the table. He was still uncomfortable though, so much so that he hadn’t mentioned anything to Sheila about it. Paula emphasized that it was his choice to share the visits with Sheila or not. His conversations with her were confidential and always would be.

  Now, Barrett and Sheila were on their way home after leaving a meeting with a few of the community college professors and students registered to vote in Henry Adams. Driving, he glanced over. “Tired?”

  “I am. Who knew talking to people night after night would be so exhausting. I just want a hot shower and my pjs.”

  “What’s on the schedule for tomorrow?”

  “I meet with the Franklin City Council in the afternoon to get their ideas about any projects they might like to partner with Henry Adams on. Bernadine said Franklin wants to send their kids to Jefferson Academy but are balking at paying what she considers a fair price for teacher salaries, supplies, and the rest.”

  “They want to play but not pay?”

  “Basically, but that’s not going to happen. I believe they’re thinking they can sweet-talk me or bully me into supporting their position.”

  “They’ll learn you’re tougher than you look.”

  “Hopefully, I won’t have to prove it to them.”

  “There’s something I didn’t ask you when we talked the other night.”

  “What was it?”

  “What did you want to be when you were growing up?”

  “A lady astronaut. My father thought it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Eight? Maybe nine?”

  “What did your mom say?”

  “Nothing, but she knew I had a thing for numbers and math, so on the one hand, she wanted me to keep my love for those hidden—in order to get a husband. But on the other hand, she encouraged me to take the advanced math and science classes when I hit high school. I never understood the opposing goals. It was like: Be smart, but be a lady first? Still don’t get her reasoning. I was appreciative, though. Why do you ask?”

  “Just watching you at these meetings and wondering if you ever thought as a little girl you’d one day be running for mayor.”

  “Oh. Never. What did you want to be when you were little?”

  “A Marine, of course.”

  She laughed softly. “Of course.”

  “I wanted to be just like my grandfather and my father—but not the abusive parts.” He went silent for a moment as the old memories rose up to haunt him, then confessed quietly, “I’m seeing Paula about all that.”

  She didn’t act surprised by the admission. “Paula’s good people. She’s helped me a lot.”

  He pu
lled into their driveway and cut the engine. He sat with her for a moment before looking over and saying, “Trying to figure out if it makes me less of a man.”

  She shook her head. “No, Barrett, it doesn’t. At least not in my eyes. I think it takes a lot of strength and courage to ask someone to help you shine a light on the dark places inside.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so. Not sure if I’m supposed to say this, but I’m proud of you. Sometimes those dark spaces keep us from being whole.”

  “I’m trying to decide if I want to go again or not.”

  “Up to you, but don’t make the decision right away. Let yourself think it over for a little while first.”

  He nodded. “Thanks for the encouragement. Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

  “No, but you can tell me now.”

  He gave a soft chuckle and ran a worshipping finger down her cheek. “You are so much more than I deserve. I love you, Sheila Payne.” Leaning over, he kissed her softly.

  When the kiss ended and he drew back, she whispered, “I love you too, Colonel Barrett Payne.”

  Leaving the car, they went inside.

  OVER AT HIS mansion, Leo turned away from Big Al Stillwell’s silent but menacing presence to watch Riley strutting around the solarium shooting the breeze with the farmers who’d shown up for the evening’s meet and greet. Leo had provided food and drink, and the flat screen was tuned to the big KU at Duke basketball game. He counted twenty-five men, five more than had shown up for the last meeting. Leo assumed word had gotten around about the money he’d given away, and the new faces were probably anticipating a repeat. They were correct. Due to Riley’s disastrous performance at the debate, and his overall obnoxious personality, Curry needed every vote Leo could buy. Although Leo didn’t worry about Thad July being a serious contender, the Paynes certainly were. Not only had Sheila Payne been impressive enough at the debate to be elected president of the United States, her husband was no longer in the race, which meant his supporters would probably throw their votes her way, but Leo didn’t have the time to worry over that now. He had to get Riley through this, first, but he was encouraged by the small but positive response he’d been receiving to playing up the gender divide between his candidate and Mrs. Payne. In his comings and goings a few men had let him know they’d be voting for Riley because he was male. One man at the Franklin drugstore asked if it was okay to pass out the buttons he made that said: “Curry—the only MAN for the job.” Leo of course said yes.

  But now he focused on the evening’s event. He muted the TV, had everyone take seats, and opened the meeting. “For those who don’t know me, I’m Leo Brown, Mr. Curry’s campaign manager. Welcome to my home and thank you for coming. Riley’s platform is a sound one, and if you’re still on the fence as to who you’ll be voting for, I hope tonight helps cement your decision to give him your support. Who has the first question?”

  “Can you give us an update on the land buy, Riley?”

  Riley puffed out his chest. “I’ve been busy crisscrossing the county getting the word out on my vision, so I’m going to turn that question over to Leo. He’s coordinating that for me.”

  Lying through his teeth, Leo talked about the new corporations that were signing on, and that some of the interested parties would be sending preliminary survey crews to check out properties. “These multinational corporations are extremely busy this time of year, and their development teams are either overseas or up to their necks evaluating other sites. We should expect some serious news and visits come spring.”

  Leo was pleased to see eagerness shine in the eyes of some in the room. “So please bear with us if you don’t hear anything from them right away. Their interest is solid. Just remember Riley needs your votes to help smooth the way for the process going forward.”

  Riley then asked the men, “Has everyone seen my billboard? Leo, how about we take a break and caravan to the highway and take a look at it?”

  Leo forced himself to respond in an even tone, “Maybe later. Right now, you might want to pass out that gift Mega Seed sent over for your supporters.” For the five hundredth time, he wished he hadn’t gotten involved with Curry.

  Riley responded importantly, “Well, get the bags.”

  Leo growled inwardly at being spoken to like a servant but with help from some of the others in the room, he did as he was told. He’d strangle the annoying little man later. He set the large bags of seed at Riley’s feet and prayed he remembered everything they’d rehearsed over the last few days.

  Riley opened by talking about Mega Seed underwriting his campaign and being tapped as one of their spokesmen. He quoted the stats on crop yields and boasted that he’d convinced Mega Seed to give the seed away for free to his supporters in exchange for endorsements about its performance. He went on to say how well it had performed in the lab. He had the speaking points down and Leo relaxed.

  One farmer asked, “This isn’t the Mega Seed product that’s in court, is it?”

  Riley looked to Leo who, having been caught off guard by the question, recovered enough to say, “No, and because that complaint has no merit, the case is about to be thrown out.”

  The farmer shook his head. “No. Courts ruled last week that the lawsuit can go forward. It was on the news.”

  Leo froze and lied, “Regardless, this is not that seed. I’m sure once the suit goes before a competent judge with the ability to discern all the science tied to the case, he’ll rule in favor of the company.”

  The farmer didn’t look convinced. On the far side of the room, Leo saw Big Al’s smirk.

  Another man asked Riley, “Are you in favor of the USDA program that’s been paying compensation to members of the National Black Farmers Coalition because of the government’s past discriminatory practices?”

  “I am. In fact, I pride myself on knowing all there is to know about the payments and how to sign up for them.”

  Leo heard Stillwell laugh darkly.

  “Really?” someone asked. Leo swore he heard sarcasm in the tone.

  “I do,” Riley declared. “I’m an expert on issues that affect the local farming community.”

  The same man said, “Then you’re either a liar, full of shit, or both, because that program shut down years ago. It was a trick question, Curry. Wanted to see how much you really know about our issues.”

  Riley’s eyes went wide. He stuttered, “I-I was testing you to see if you knew the program had been shut down.”

  Muttering rumbled through the room. The gathering was on the fast track to hell.

  Leo quickly stepped in. “How about we pass out the seed and the monetary bonus Mega Seed is offering as a way of saying thanks for using it in your fields come spring.”

  Some faces lit up, others didn’t. Riley passed out the seed and the cash while Leo sighed at how quickly this had soured. He’d been so busy talking to printers about the campaign signs, arranging for the installation of the billboard, and making sure Curry knew what he was supposed to say this evening, he’d paid no attention to the seed case. It had been winding its way through the courts for the past two years. The assurances sent to the field offices by the company lawyers had employees like Leo believing the case would be summarily dismissed. But according to what he’d learned just now, they’d been wrong, and because they were, it might put a wrench in the outcome of the plan he and the conspiring companies had come up with. In order to succeed, they needed the seed planted by as many of the targeted farmers as possible. Failure meant heads would roll, and Leo’s would be first on the block.

  At the end of the evening, the seed and money were disbursed, KU beat Duke, and the farmers including Stillwell made their exit. All twenty-five except Stillwell took the seed, but he was pretty sure it was only to get the two hundred dollars that went with it. There was no guarantee they’d actually plant the seed and it was a worry Leo wasn’t sure how to fix.

  Once he and Riley were alone, Riley said, “I thought
we did good tonight. I remembered all my talking points. I didn’t like the trick question, though. That was rude.”

  Leo needed a drink. “I agree. It was rude. Mega Seed will be pleased that so many people took their product.”

  “We should offer more money next time. Make sure people keep coming back.”

  That was the last thing Leo’s handlers would want to hear. “I’ll run that by them. You go home and get some rest.”

  “Will do. Think I’ll drive over and say good night to my billboard first.”

  Leo nodded. It was the only response he had for such craziness.

  With Riley gone, Leo poured a healthy helping of cognac into a glass only to have his phone alert go off. He picked it up and in response to what he viewed, his hand shook. He opened the FaceTime app and saw the aged, ghoul-like face of Mega Seed president Virgil Quelp. “Evening, sir.”

  “How’d the meeting go, Leo? They take the bait?”

  “Some did.”

  “How many is some?”

  “Twenty-five farmers showed up. Twenty-four left with the seed.” Leo knew better than to share his concerns about how many would actually plant it, though.

  “That’s not a bad number. Keep it up. Salem Oil needs that pipeline and we need that land.”

  “Understood.”

  “How’s the mayoral campaign?”

  “Going well. He’s a strong candidate. In a tough fight, though. Running against a very savvy woman.”

  “Hate these damn feminists. Women have no business in the political arena. Can you bribe her to drop out?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Try.”

  “Yes, sir.” He sighed inwardly and changed the subject. “I hear the court sent the seed case forward.”

  “Damn lawyers. We’re now putting a clause in the farmers’ contracts that any seed sent out for testing will result in a big fine. That should quash any further suits. I’m still certain we’ll win. Those uppity farmers underestimate our resolve, and how much we’re willing to spend to get this decided in our favor.”

  Leo thought Mega Seed foolishly underestimated the intelligence and outrage of the black farmers behind the lawsuit, but he kept that to himself.