“Son,” she called to me softly in a voice tinged with tenderness and cloaked with compassion. “Them people ain't never wanted nothing out of life 'cept what they could beat folks out of... and them ain't the kind of folks you need to get yo'self tied up with ... they ain't the kind of folks at all.”
Her words touched something in me and I felt myself reacting in a way in which I had not planned. My heart raced; my skin tingled. Then, suddenly my mouth opened and I spoke in spite of my secret vow to remain silent.
“I'm not interested in her folks,” I said. “I'm only interested in her.”
Mama stopped, then looked at me contemplatively.
“She drink?” she asked.
“Some,” I stammered. Her question caught me off guard.
“Curse?”
“A little,” I said.
“Had many boyfriends?”
“She dated a few guys,” I said. “But she's had only one other steady boyfriend besides me.”
“Like they say,” Mama said. “You know the parents. . . you know the child.”
“I love her,” I said.
“You can do better,” Mama said again.
“Don't want better,” I said for the second time. “Just want her.”
“Ain't lived long enough to know what you want,” Mama said. She was talking down to me again. I felt my anger rise, and inside my head I heard a voice screaming:
I'm a man.
“Besides,” she continued, “wants don't matter much in this life ... folks be wise to study on what they need. Right woman will come along someday. When she do, you'll know.”
“I'm going to marry Omenita,” I said.
Mama didn't say anything.
“She and I have already talked about it,” I said.
“Talk is talk.” Mama broke her silence. “Done heard plenty talk in my life. Most of it ain't never 'mounted to nothing.”
“We're going to get married,” I said adamantly. I waited for Mama to say something, but she remained quiet. I waited a little longer. Still, she did not speak.
“I mean it, Mama ... Omenita and I are going to get married.”
“I know you thanks so,” she said.
“I know so,” I said, leaving no doubt.
“Well you remember this,” she said. “There's many a slip between the cup and the lip.” She said that, then she didn't say anything else.
“I love her, Mama,” I said. “I love her with all my heart.”
“You love them long legs,” Mama said. “But once you been in this old world a while, you gon' find out it's more to life than that. Might have to find out the hard way ... I don't know. Some folks is like that.”
“Like what?” I asked defensively.
“Hardheaded,” Mama said.
“My head's not hard,” I said bitterly.
“You just like Brother,” she said.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” I said.
Mama walked across the floor and sat at the table. The entire time she had been standing just inside the door next to the deep freezer.
“When Brother was 'bout your age,” she began, “he brung home a little old yellar gal from 'cross the river. And she had them old long legs just like Omenita. And she'd bat them big old eyes of hers at Brother, and he'd look like he'd lose what little sense he come here with. Then one day that crazy boy up and told Mama how much he loved that gal and how they was fixin' to marry. And I remember Mama pulled him aside and talked to him, just like I'm talking to you. Told him he needed to take a little time and think about what he was doing. Told him marrying was serious business ... But his head was too hard and too full of foolish notions. Told Mama he know all he needed to know. Told her he was gon' marry that gal and all he wanted her to do was to buy a little old gown and put it on whenever he came home. And let him tell it, that's all he wanted out their life together. Just wanted that gal to put on that gown when he come home. So he went against Mama and he married that gal with them big legs from 'cross the river. And they got a little old rent house in the quarters close to that grudge ditch. And he took to working in the fields, hauling hay, and driving tractors, and digging taters and working hisself like a dog whilst that gal sat up in the house all day and did next to nothing. And sho 'nuff, after they first married they tell me he'd come home all covered in dirt and that gal'd be sitting up in the house watching TV, and he'd tell her âbaby, why don't you go put on that gown.' And sho 'nuff, she'd put it on and they tell me them two would carry on so. Well, that went on 'bout a week or two. He'd come home and tell that gal to put on that gown and then them two would carry on like wasn't no tomorrow. Then one day, a few weeks later, he come from work and he didn't have to tell her nothing. She was standing there with that gown already on. But, they'd been married 'bout a month now, and he'd been having to work harder and harder to try to meet the bills ... Tell me he didn't even hardly look at that gal good, just come on in the house and fell down in his old chair, looking like he was 'bout half dead from working in that hot sun all day, and they say after a minute or two he took one look at that gal standing there half naked, and said, âWoman, you better take off that gown and put on some peas.' ”
Mama became quiet a minute and I knew she was giving me time to absorb what she was saying. And when she thought enough time had passed, she started up again. “Naw,” she began, “I ain't got nothing against Omenita ... Just don't want you making the same mistake Brother made. Don't want you making the same mistake me and your daddy made. You'll be graduating from LSU in a few months ... got a chance to do something with yourself. Need to get you somebody you can do good with 'cause Lord knows you can do bad all by yourself.”
“Mama, I'm not Brother,” I said.
“Don't fool yourself,” she said. “You got his ways alright.”
I looked at her, then looked away.
“Omenita and I will do just fine together,” I said.
“Don't know why your head so hard,” Mama said.
“My head's not hard,” I said.
“Well, maybe your daddy can tell you something,” she said. “ 'Cause Lord knows I can't.”
“Daddy,” I said.
I looked toward the door. Daddy had arrived.
Chapter Four
I
followed Daddy with my eyes, watching him as he passed through the door and made his way deeper into the kitchen. He was a big man, but not a fat man. He stood somewhere close to six feet tall and weighed well over two hundred pounds. And though he had never touched a weight in his life, he had the unmistakable look of a seasoned power lifter: broad shoulders, powerful arms, bulging biceps. And yet, as I sat looking at him, I could not help but notice how at this moment, he neither appeared powerful nor strong. The trials of the day had sapped him of his energy and now he appeared haggard and tired. I rose and moved back against the rear door just in case he wanted to sit at the table with Mama, but he did not sit. Instead he stopped before the sink and I saw him turn on the faucet to wash his hands. He had just leaned over the sink when I heard Mama call to him.
“Didn't hear you come in,” she said, then pushed back from the table as if she was about to stand, but at the last minute seemed to change her mind.
“Door was open,” I heard Daddy say. His back was to her, but from where I stood I could see him scrubbing his outstretched hands underneath the steady stream of water. “Didn't see no need to knock.”
I saw Mama looking at him and I watched her wait patiently until Daddy had shut off the water, and when he had, she called to him again.
“How you make out?” she asked him.
Daddy turned around and I saw his roving eyes look toward the far wall. There was an old dishcloth draped across the rack just beyond the sink. I saw Daddy remove the cloth and begin drying his hands.
“Awright, I reckon.”
“Just awright,” Mama said. She paused and looked at him strangely. When he left, the truck was loaded with cans. She had expected more.
He nodded. “Price dropped a little.”
“Dropped!” I heard Mama say.
For an answer, Daddy nodded again, then leaned back against the counter and for the first time, I could see his eyes clearly. They were dull and drowsy, and though I was some distance from him I could see that they were bloodshot. Yes, it had been a long day and he was tired. I saw him look at the empty chair and I thought he was going to sit, but before he could Mama spoke again.
“How much?” she asked.
I saw Daddy tilt his head and look at her, confused. And I knew he was wondering if she was asking how much he had made or how much the price had dropped. He had not understood because he had been looking at the chair, not listening to her.
“How much what?” he asked.
“How much it drop?” she asked.
I saw Daddy shift his weight, then rub his hand across his face. Yes, he was tired. I looked at the empty chair again. Oh, how I wished he would sit down.
“Half a cent,” he said.
Mama paused and shook her head, and I could see that she was disappointed.
“It's always something.”
She said that, and then she paused again. And in that split second I looked at Daddy. And I thought about asking him if he wanted to sit. But they were having a conversation and I felt it would be rude to interrupt them, so I remained quiet.
“Wonder why the price dropped so.”
“Don't know,” Daddy said. “Just the price he give me.”
“Highway robbery,” Mama mumbled.
Daddy didn't say anything.
“Nathaniel, sometimes I wish you would quit fooling with them people,” Mama said, “especially if they ain't gon' do no better than that.”
“Got to sell somewhere,” Daddy said. “Don't know of no other place.”
“Just hate to see you drive way up yonder for them kind of prices.”
“Well it beats nothing,” Daddy said. “Even with the price being what it was, we still cleared right at two hundred dollars. At least that'll be enough to cut the phone back on and put a little gas in the truck for the rest of the week.” Suddenly, Daddy paused and looked at me, then smiled.
“How you doing, son?” he asked.
“Fine, Daddy,” I said.
I looked at Mama and saw her looking at me, and I knew she wanted to tell Daddy about Omenita. And for a brief moment I thought she would. But to my surprise she remained quiet. I was still looking at her when Daddy spoke again.
“You interested in making a little pocket change while you home?”
His question caught me off guard. I looked around and hesitated, then when I fully understood what he had asked me, I smiled and answered him. “Yes, sir,” I said, then waited.
“We a man short in the kitchen,” he said. “Silas done took sick. Ought to be out better part of the week.”
I opened my mouth to speak again, but before I could Mama spoke first.
“Ain't nothing serious, is it?” she asked.
“Naw,” I heard Daddy say. Then I saw him turn toward Mama and shake his head. “Way I hear it, he done come down with the flu or something like that. Doc Sims put 'im on bed rest. Told 'im to take it easy for a few days. Ought to be awright soon as he get his strength back.”
“When I start?” I asked. I was broke and the idea of earning some money appealed to me.
“First thing in the morning if you want to,” Daddy said. “Already talked to the boss man. He said it's up to you. Didn't know if no college man would be interested in working in the kitchen washing no dishes.”
“He interested,” Mama said.
“Let the boy talk for hisself,” Daddy said. “He might need to sleep on it 'fo he decide ... You know, roll it around in his mind, mull it over.”
Mama looked at me, then frowned.
“Mull it over, my foot. He interested ... Besides, maybe that'll keep him way from trouble whilst he home.”
I saw Daddy look at Mama, then back at me and I knew he was trying to figure out if something was going on.
“Don't imagine that's no big concern,” he said. “Probably couldn't find no trouble round here if he wanted to.”
“Hunh,” Mama said, grunting. “Don't fool yourself.”
She looked at me again, and I looked away.
“Well, it's up to him,” Daddy said. “Whatever he want to do.”
“Where's Grandpa Luke?” I tried to change the subject.
I saw Daddy look toward the living room.
“Went to lie down ... said he feeling poorly.”
Mama rose, and I saw her look toward the door, then back at Daddy. She was concerned; I could see it in her eyes.
“Think I ought check on him?” she asked.
Daddy shook his head, and I could tell from his expression that he wasn't the least bit concerned.
“Let him be. He just a little tired. That's all.”
“You sure?” Mama asked, her eyes still cloaked with doubt.
“I'm sure,” Daddy said. “He slept most of the way home. He'll be alright after he rest a while. Ain't no sense in making a fuss.”
“Long as you sure,” Mama said.
“I'm sure,” Daddy said again. “Just let him be ... He done got old and need to take his rest, that's all.”
I looked at Daddy and before I knew it, I heard myself calling his name.
“Daddy,” I said.
“Yeah, son.” He looked at me, then waited.
“How old is Grandpa Luke?” I asked.
I saw Daddy pause, then look up toward the ceiling.
“Well, let's see,” he said, then paused again. “Mama was born in twenty-four ... Papa four years older than her ... So, he'll be eighty come January.”
“Didn't realize he was making eighty,” Mama said.
“Well he is.”
I saw Mama look at Daddy.
“Ought to do something special for him. It's a blessing to live that long.”
Daddy shook his head.
“He wouldn't want you to make no fuss.”
“Wouldn't be no fuss,” Mama said. “Just thought we could have a few of his friends over and eat a little cake and ice cream. Just something to show him how much we love him.”
“Papa know we love him,” Daddy said. “Besides, most of his friends done passed on. Can't be no more than one or two of 'em left.”
In the other room, we heard the loud, exaggerated sound of Grandpa Luke snoring.
“Told you he was tired,” Daddy said.
Mama frowned.
“He didn't try to help you unload that truck, did he?”
“Naw, but he might as well.”
Mama squinted. “What you mean by that?”
“Spent just as much energy fooling 'round with that old camera.”
“Snapping pictures?” Mama said. Hers was more of a question than a statement.
“Like they was going out of style,” Daddy said. “Would of been home long time ago if I didn't have to drive all over Eudora so he could take pictures of the strangest things. You know that man made me stop the truck so he could take a picture of a railroad track.”
“Hope you was patient with him,” Mama said. “ 'Cause, Nathaniel, I swear sometimes look like you the most impatient man on Gawd's green earth.”
“I didn't bother him,” Daddy said. “Just thought it was funny. What in the world he gon' do with a picture of a railroad track?”
“Well if that's his pleasure.”
“I didn't bother him,” Daddy said again.
“Must be missing Mama Lu.”
“I imagine so,” Daddy said.
I saw Mama look at Daddy, then shake her head.
“Sometimes I feel so sorry for him.”
“Don't 'spect feeling sorry for him gon' do much good.”
“Might not,” Mama said, “but that's how I feel. And I guess sometimes I just wish I knew what to tell 'im.”
She paused, but Daddy didn't answer. I looked at her. She had been looking at Daddy but now she was staring off into space.
“I can always tell when he thinking about her,” she said.
Daddy had been gazing down at the floor. Now he raised his eyes and looked directly at Mama.
“How?” he asked.
Mama paused before answering. She was still staring off into space.
“First thing he do is go to snapping pictures. Then he steal off to hisself.”
“Hunh,” Daddy said contemplatively. Then he was quiet.
Mama paused, then shook her head again.
“Must of been a terrible thing. Her getting up every day and not remembering nothing or nobody. And him watching the whole thing and not being able to do nothing about it. I just can't imagine it. Can't imagine it at all.”
“Just one of them things,” Daddy said.
“One of them terrible things,” Mama corrected him.
“Terrible or not,” Daddy said, “we all got to deal with it one way or the other. And I guess them pictures is Daddy's way. Deep down, I reckon he figure if he wake up one morning, and his mind gone, them pictures'll help him remember who he is and where he come from.”
“Must be a scary thing,” Mama said. “Living with that every day.”
“Grandpa Luke knows that we're here for him,” I said. “I'm sure that counts for something.”
“Count for a lot,” Daddy said. “It do him all the good in the world to be around familyâfamily count for everything.”
When he said that, I felt Mama's eyes on me, but I didn't look. I wouldn't look. Daddy paused for a moment. Then resumed. “Just appreciate the way you and your mama done made him feel at home since he been here with us.”
“Feel at home,” Mama said. “He is at home.”
Daddy smiled, then it was quiet again. I saw Mama rise. The pot was still on the stove. I saw her looking at it.
“Ready for your coffee?”
Daddy looked at the pot, then at her.
“Not tonight,” he said. “I'm too tired. Just want to take a bath and go to bed.”
“Ain't you gon' eat?” she asked. “Your supper in the oven. Some sweet rolls over yonder cooling in the window.”
“Too tired to eat,” he said. “Been a long day.”
“Need to eat something,” Mama said. “Can't go to bed on a empty stomach.”
“Just want to soak in a hot bath,” Daddy said, “Then go to bed.”
“After you soak, you need to eat something,” she said again. “Can't work all day then go to bed without eating.” I saw her take a couple of sweet rolls from the tin and place them on a saucer. Then I saw her turn and look at Daddy. And I saw Daddy stoically standing before her. He had made his feelings known, and for him the conversation was over and her subsequent actions, however well intended, were futile. He stood, silently gazing upon the sweet rolls. And in that instance the full force of fatigue fell upon him and his weary mind drifted; his heavy head began to tilt forward. Mama called to him softly.