God Don't Make No Mistakes (26 page)

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Authors: Mary Monroe

BOOK: God Don't Make No Mistakes
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CHAPTER 51
R
EVEREND PRITCHARD WAS A BIG MAN WITH HARD, MENACING
features. He was not happy with what was taking place, and I knew he was going to attempt to stop it before it got out of hand. He walked out to the edge of the sidewalk with his hands on his hips.
“Uh-oh,” Daddy said in a low voice. “Reverend Pritchard's gwine to put the fear of the Lord into that mob.”
I agreed with Daddy. And if anybody could put the fear of the Lord in somebody, it was Reverend Pritchard. But as soon as he got close enough, Jade and the rest of her crew looked at him like he was crazy.
“We done already called the law, so you devils better get back in them hoopties and get the hell out of here! This is private property,” the reverend roared, waving his arms like he was directing traffic. “I don't know what y'all trying to prove, but you ain't rackin' up no points here!”
“Are you saying that we can't come to this revival?” Jade jeered, still bumping and grinding. “We need some spiritual guidance. We are sinners and everybody knows that even sinners need love.”
“Girl, you need way more than spiritual guidance,” Reverend Pritchard hollered, shaking his fist at Jade. He crossed the street and stood right in front of her.
“Jade, you need a whuppin'!” an unidentified voice yelled from the entrance area of the tent.
I didn't realize that I had put my hand over Charlotte's eyes until she pushed it away.
“Us Cock Pit folks got religion too!” one of the bouncers chortled. At the same time, this same man was sipping from a can of Budweiser beer!
“Amen! And a COCK-A-DOODLE-DO!” one of the other strippers yelled.
“We can do what we want, wherever we want, and when we want,” another one added, giving us the finger. She used that same finger to pat her crotch. Then, with a sinister giggle, she licked her finger and gave it to us again.
“Save us! If y'all can parade around in front of our club, we can parade around here!” Jade screeched, laughing and dancing so hard it looked like she was having a spasm. Then she threw back her head, stretched her mouth as wide open as it would go, and roared with gut-wrenching laughter. She went too far when she wrapped her arms around the reverend and started
humping
him!
“I don't think so,” Scary Mary said with a look on her face that would have frightened the Devil. Looking from the spectacle across the street to my face and around to the others in my party, she continued, “Y'all move back. This one is mine. I know just how to straighten out this mess,” she said, speaking calmly now, despite the fact that she was obviously just as outraged as the rest of us. “I may be a she-pimp, but even I know there is a time and a place for everything. A sex sideshow don't belong this close to hallowed ground!” To this day, none of us knew Scary Mary's full background. I didn't know how old she was, or even where she had come from. But one thing I did know was that this old sister had earned her nickname. She had been involved in criminal activity since the age of nine, when she and her outlaw mother lived in a chicken coop on a white man's sugarcane farm in south Florida. She had only one biological child of her own, despite the fact that she'd been married several times, but she treated me and all of my friends like family. In spite of her age, which was at least late eighties or early nineties, and her declining health, people feared her. She wouldn't hesitate to bat somebody's head with her bamboo cane or bite off somebody's finger (she'd done that to one of her unruly male clients a few years ago). People feared her because she knew where all the bodies were buried, so to speak. She had so many connections that she never had any trouble getting her way, good or bad. She was like a cross between Oprah and John Gotti; she could be your “best friend” or your “worst enemy.” Every Thanksgiving and Christmas she donated dozens of bushel baskets of food to poor families, and she helped serve food at the local soup kitchen on a regular basis. I was glad that I was on her good side.
We all stood back as the fearless old madam sauntered over to the strippers with her hands on her hips, the tail of her butterscotch-colored tweed coat almost touching the ground. Reverend Pritchard turned around and headed back toward the tent, wiping sweat off of his face with his sleeve.
Scary Mary stopped with her face inches in front of Jade's. Jade gasped. Her body was suddenly as rigid as a tree. “Shame, shame, shame! Shame on you, Jade! SHAME!” Scary Mary chanted. “If you was my girl, I'd skin you alive!”
Jade looked around at her friends and rolled her eyes. Then she looked up into Scary Mary's face. Jade looked like a midget standing in front of Scary Mary, who was at least six feet tall.
“What ... what is your problem, old woman?” Jade asked Scary Mary in a voice that displayed a great deal of fear. “Can't y'all take a joke?”
“You can call yourself jokin' all you want to, Devil, but I can assure you that I AIN'T JOKIN'! And who you callin' an old woman? I ain't
that
old, so don't you call me no old woman, girl. I can still do anything you can do, and better. You think you got this poontang thing sewed up? Pshaw! Sex is my business, always has been. You ain't lived long enough to know the ropes like you think you do! You wouldn't know a real dick from an Oscar Mayer weenie. I done been where you tryin' to go. I got more experience in any form of the sex business in one of my baby fingers than you got in your ass and mouth put together! You can provoke me if you want to and I promise you,
you will suffer
!” Scary Mary told Jade.
“I ... I ...” Jade stuttered.
“I ... I ... I—nothin'!” Scary Mary hollered, mimicking Jade's shaky voice. “I ... I ... I!”
The only other sounds that I could hear were of the cars driving down the street. Nobody was laughing, talking, blasting that rap music, or doing anything else, except breathing.
“You know I was just playing,” Jade stammered, backing a few steps away from Scary Mary.
With each step that Jade took backward, Scary Mary took one forward. “And what's my problem? Girl, I ain't got no problem. But if I had to choose one, I'd have to say my problem was
you
!”
Scary Mary kept talking, but in a voice that was too low for any of us to hear now. From the frightened looks on the faces of the strip-club gang, especially Jade's, what Scary Mary was saying had to be pretty potent because it did the trick. Jade and her cohorts scrambled back into their vans and shot back off down the street like they had just robbed a bank.
“Rhoda, I was gwine to include you in my prayers this evenin' anyway, but now I'm gwine to devote my entire prayer request to you,” Muh'Dear said, rubbing Rhoda's back.
We all waited until Reverend Pritchard and Scary Mary composed themselves before we filed into the tent and took our seats.
I had seen the reverend do some serious preaching, jumping up and down and sweating like a pig, even falling off the pulpit once. But I had never seen him preach the way he did that night.
“He talked about them strippers and that strip club like it was gwine out of style,” Daddy said later that night after we had all gone to my house. “I'll be the first one to sign that petition he's about to draw up to get the city to shet that hellhole down.”
“Once they shet that place down, maybe Jade will come back to her senses and drag her slap-happy ass on back home,” Lillimae said, not sounding very confident.
From the look on Rhoda's face now, I had a feeling she no longer wanted her daughter to simply “drag her slap-happy ass on back home.” That was when I recalled what Rhoda had told me the other night, but I didn't say anything to her about it.
Later that same night, at my dining room table during a feast of fried cat fish and black-eyed peas that nobody, except Lillimae, seemed to be enjoying, Rhoda whispered in my ear, “Remember what I said I was goin' to do?”
At first, I pretended like I didn't know what she was talking about, but I did. She was going to set up her own daughter to go to jail. “You're going to plant drugs in Jade's luggage when you guys go to Jamaica,” I replied.
Rhoda didn't answer. She didn't have to.
“Rhoda, do you watch much cable TV?” I asked. “Those documentaries on true crimes?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“A lot of the channels do documentary-type shows about people who get caught up in foreign jail situations. Those Jamaican jails are brutal.”
“I know that. She won't get caught in Jamaica. I told you, she's goin' to get caught comin' back into the States. Don't you remember me tellin' you that?”
“Maybe you did, Rhoda, but I am going to be honest with you; I didn't think you were serious about this. Even now I am wondering if you really mean to go through with this thing.”
“Well, you can stop wonderin' about it. I really do mean to go through with this thing.”
CHAPTER 52
A
BOUT AN HOUR AFTER ALL OF MY COMPANY HAD GONE HOME,
I moved from my dining room into the living room and curled up on the couch with the TV on. I watched a
Golden Girls
rerun and then the news. They were still reporting Bill Clinton and Paula Jones stories.
It was past eleven and I had sent Charlotte to bed. Lillimae had turned in for the night, and I was glad to have some time alone to organize my thoughts, again.
Just as the news was about to go off, Pee Wee knocked on the front door. He had called earlier and told me that he was coming over to bring money for Charlotte.
Despite the fact that I had spent the evening with family and friends, I now felt so lonely that I was glad to see Pee Wee. He usually called before he came over. But when he didn't, his unexpected visits didn't bother me as much as they used to. As a matter of fact, I was happy to see him these days.
To me, my glee meant that we had made some significant progress. It looked more and more like we would live as man and wife again after all. It had been quite a while since we'd had any close contact, meaning some “action in the flesh,” as the revival reverend had referred to sex. And quite frankly, I needed some now. Especially since I had severed my relationship with Ronald. I had not spoken to him since that clumsy night at the mall. But I had seen him on the street a few times with his wife and children. Each time, he'd looked at me like I was a stranger. I had also finally dropped Roscoe completely from my agenda. That was one relationship that had become useless, to me and to him. For one thing, I was of no more use to him when I stopped doing domestic chores for him. I missed him, but not enough to continue the relationship.
“I'm glad you had some time for me,” Pee Wee said as soon as he came in and made himself comfortable on my couch. “I know you are one busy lady.”
“I'm not as busy as you think,” I admitted. “At least not with other men.” I sniffed. “But I do have a lot going on.”
“Don't I know it.”
I didn't know how much Rhoda had told him about how she was going to plant drugs on her daughter, and I was certainly not going to tell him. But I felt that I needed to know what Rhoda had shared with him on this subject. I didn't want to slip up and reveal information she didn't want anybody else to know.
“Uh, have you talked to Rhoda lately about Jade?” I asked, giving him a cautious look.
He shrugged and shook his head. “Not really. I ran into her at the gas station on my way over here, and she told me about that mess at the tent revival this evenin'. I told my girl she needs to drag that little heifer of hers into the woods by her feet and whup the dog shit out of her.”
“A lot of people feel the same way you do. But I think it's too late for that. Whuppings didn't faze Jade at all when she was growing up. Rhoda only whupped her a few times. But Otis didn't hesitate to chastise her when she misbehaved, which was a waste of his time. One time I saw him lay into her with a switch like he was whupping a man. After he turned her loose, that little hussy ran out of that room laughing so hard Otis and I had to laugh too. You want a drink?”
“A beer would be nice.”
Right after I handed Pee Wee a can of Bud Light, I excused myself and ran upstairs to use the telephone in my bedroom. I wanted to make sure I didn't say something to him about Rhoda that he didn't need to know. I knew that he was her best male friend, but there were some things that she and I shared that nobody else on earth needed to know. If Rhoda was really serious about sending her daughter to prison, for Rhoda's sake, I didn't want the world to know.
“Pee Wee's downstairs,” I told her, speaking in a low voice even though he couldn't hear me down in the living room. “I don't want to say anything you don't want me to say. But, uh, did you say anything to him about what you told me you're going to do to Jade? That, uh, thing with her luggage?”
“HELL NO!” Rhoda boomed. “Of course I didn't tell Pee Wee what I am goin' to do. And don't you ever breathe a word of it to him, or anybody else! I didn't think I needed to tell you not to.”
“Rhoda, I don't want you to go to jail. But if this thing backfires and you get caught, you might be the one to get locked up. Have you thought about that?”
“I got it all figured out. Don't worry.”
“That's easier said than done. I honestly don't think I can not worry knowing all of what I know.” I sniffed and rubbed my nose. My bedroom door was closed, but I glanced at it anyway to make sure I didn't have an audience. The floor in my upstairs hallway was hardwood. From the landing at the top of the stairs all the way to my bedroom at the opposite end of the hall, the floor creaked when somebody walked on it, even if they tiptoed in their bare feet. I hadn't heard anybody approaching, but I lowered my voice to a whisper anyway. “But I'll try.”
Rhoda chuckled. I couldn't figure out why because I didn't think anything we had said so far was amusing.
“I'm worried about you,” I told her.
“You worry about yourself and Pee Wee. I got my shit under control. I'm goin' to be real busy shoppin' for clothes to take with me, and makin' sure Lizel and Wyrita have everything under control with my child-care obligations. I don't want to leave the children or their parents in a lurch. I might not get to see you much before I leave for Jamaica, but I'll call you from down there as often as I can.”
“Rhoda, I can't afford to lose you. Please be careful,” I pleaded.
“You do the same tonight.”
“What do you mean?”
“Girl, you know damn well what I mean.”
“Rhoda, if I knew, I wouldn't be asking,” I said with a hiss.
“Look, I know you better than your own mama. I know your pussy has been itchin' for weeks. Right now you've got the only man you know who can get the job done right sittin' in your livin' room. From what he's been tellin' me lately, he hasn't been with another woman in weeks, so his dick is probably as hard as a lead pipe by now.
Get you some tonight
.”
When I went back downstairs, Pee Wee had unbuttoned his shirt. I was glad to see that he'd lost part of that pot belly he'd had a few months ago. He had also kicked off his shoes and propped up his feet on my coffee table. He looked right at home.
“You want something else?” I asked, meaning another beer. Pee Wee looked me up and down and smiled. “Well, since you asked ...”
I did “get some” that night. And it must have been pretty obvious, because the next morning as soon as Lillimae saw my face, she started grinning.
“Somebody got lucky last night,” she teased. “I heard that ruckus comin' from your room. It sounded like you were tearin' down the house. It's about time you got some... .”
I faked a gasp. “Lillimae, I don't know what you mean,” I said, not looking at her. I poured myself a cup of coffee and joined her at the kitchen table.
“You got some what last night, Mama?” Charlotte wanted to know, creeping into the kitchen with her backpack.
“Uh, nothing,” I mumbled, wiggling in my seat.
“Some new clothes,” Lillimae offered. “Your mama got herself some new clothes last night.”
“Is that all?” Charlotte said with a bored look on her face. “Mama, I hope you didn't get any more of those old granny goose–looking blouses and dresses that you already have enough of.”
“Uh, you'd better hurry up and eat so you can get out there to meet your school bus. Make sure you have your lunch money and all your homework,” I said sharply. “And don't forget, I'm going out to dinner tonight with Daddy, and your aunt Lillimae is going to be at the restaurant helping your grandmother.” Charlotte was about to grab a piece of bacon, but her hand froze in midair when she heard what I had to say next. “Do you want to go to Harrietta's house when you get off that school bus after school?” Because I had had that talk with Harrietta about Charlotte, I was confident that Harrietta would work extra hard to make Charlotte like her. But now I'd let Charlotte decide whether or not she wanted to give Harrietta another chance.
“I'd rather go hang out at the church!” Charlotte hollered. “Mama, I don't want to keep going to that old woman's house. I keep telling you she's not normal!”
“Exactly what does she do that makes you think she's not normal?” Lillimae asked.
Charlotte dropped her head. “It don't matter. Y'all grown folks stick together anyway.” With a slight smile on her face, she said, “Mama, if I'm good and don't complain so much about Harrietta, can I go to the Valentine's Day dance at my school coming up?”
“I'll think about it,” I replied, relieved that she had directed her attention toward something more pleasant.

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