Apron Strings (25 page)

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that it took a minute for it to dawn on me that he’d called me a lady. Nobody’d ever called me a lady. I was struck dumb as a mule. Alberta grunted a greetin’ of sorts while I stood dead in the road, lookin’ at Early like he fell from the sky.

“Didn’ mean to give ya’ll no fright,” he said. He chuckled; the softest, sweetest little chuckle. It was the kind of chuckle that didn’t make ya feel small—just the opposite—it made ya feel you was in on the joke.

“No, sir, you didn’. Justa little surprise, das all,” I heard myself sayin’.

“Don’ be hurryin’ off on my account.” He chuckled again as he unlocked the door.

Alberta was full of surprises. She came to life and smiled like she was just seein’ him for the first time. “We on our way home,” she announced. “It’s too cold to be sittin’ on a porch in this weather.”

“Well, why don’ ya’ll comes in and makes yo’self comfortable. I’ll git a fire goin’ direc’ly.” He opened the door to a dank, musty entrance hall that smelled of stale smoke and mold.

Alberta didn’ wait to be asked twice. She was up on that porch and headin’ through the door before that man finished his sentence. “Don’ mind if’n I do,” she said, brushin’ past him. She looked back at him for directions.

“Go’n into the parlor,” he said indicatin’ to the left with his head while he tried to get the key out the door, “and set a spell. Dat’s where da stove be. I’ll just be a minute, gotta git some wood out back.”

“I’ll do dat,” I offered, while Alberta sat her big self down like she was a queen or somethin’, just waitin’ to be waited on. It was the blessedest thing. I felt like I was standin’ outside myself, takin’ a good hard look, not sure if I liked what I saw. My hair was all tied up in braids. It weren’t stylish like Roberta’s, but then again, it weren’t no rat’s nest like Alberta’s neither. I still had on my uniform under my shabby, used-to-be-white sweater, and maybe I was a little too stout.

“No’m, I’ll git it. You jest set on down and relax yo’self,” he said to me like I was a fine-lookin’ lady dressed in the latest fashion.

After he left the room, Alberta screwed up her face and shook her head back and forth at me in quick little jerks like she did when she thought people was puttin’ on airs. She primped up her hair and cupped her hands to smell her breath.

“What you gots in mind?” I asked.

“Never you mind,” she said shooin’ me away like a pesky fly. “You jest git on home, now. I’ll be along direc’ly.”

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” I whispered, tryin’ to keep Early from hearin’. “He axt us both in here. Why you think I gotta go?”

“Girl, don’ ya know nothin’? He jest be lookin’ for a little lovin’ and I’s happy to oblige,” she said, givin’ me a leer that made her look right comical.

“Stop actin’ a fool,” I said, offended that Alberta could have such notions ‘bout my kind, gentle Early.

Loaded down with a big stack of wood, Early come back inside and carefully filled the small potbellied stove that stood on a metal plate in the middle of the room. He pulled a match out from behind his ear and struck it up against the side of the stove. Afore too long we was gettin’ as toasty as you could ever think to be.

“Glad to be seein’ you ladies today,” Early said, turnin’ the damper down. “Ya’ll ain’t been comin’ round much here lately. I’s wonderin’ if’n you might like…” Alberta was so full of herself, knowin’ what she thought she knew, she looked like she might just pop there on that nasty red sofa. She patted the cushion next to her.

“Why don’ you set yo’ self down here aside me,” Alberta said, trying to be jes’ as sweet as a flower to a bee but croakin’ more like a frog to a fly. I ain’t
never
been so embarrassed. I stared up at the peeling wallpaper near the ceiling. The paper, a dirty water brown, was covered in faded bunches of orange and blue flowers.

Early smiled and said, “No, ma’am, I got work to do. But that what I been tryin’ to say: Ya’ll want some extra work?”

Alberta spluttered and huffed like somebody throwed a bucket of cold water on her. She commenced to hitch her skirt down as I rolled
my eyes. “What you mean ‘work’? You don’ think I gots work enough fo’ two already? Why you think I wanna do more fo’ you?” I think she got so mad ‘cause she was mistook ‘bout his intentions.

“Com’on Ethel, les git on home,” she huffed. She was gettin’ spittin’ mad by now. “I gots better thangs to do than lookin’ fo’ mo work ta do.”

“Oh no, Miss, I’s gon’ pay ya,” Early said, lookin’ confused. “I’s gon’ pay ya’ll real good!”

Alberta’s chin shot up an’ it looked like she was mullin’ it over. She scratched her head and opened her mouth like she was gon’ say somethin’. Then I guess she thought about what a fool she’d looked like pattin’ that red cushion next to her. She stood straight up, turned on her heel, an’ hollered, “Ethel, you comin’?”

“I ain’t,” I said. “You go on.”

“Suit yer self,” she muttered. She stomped down the hall and out the door, slammin’ it so hard the windows on the house might near jumped out of their frames. You woulda thought a train was roarin’ down the tracks just outside.

“Well, I never,” Early said, an’ he chuckled that tender warm chuckle. “Did I say somethin’ wrong? If’n I did, I sho’ is sorry. I didn’ mean no harm.” He looked down at his chocolate-brown hands, then out in the hall. He took off his gold-rimmed glasses, pulled his hankie outta his trousers, and slowly wiped each lens. He put his hankie back in his pocket and carefully wrapped them glasses back ‘round his ears then smiled at me. He had a way of smilin’ like it was with his whole body.

“Don’ pay her no mind,” I said. “She’s what they call ‘high strung.’”

“As a kite,” he said. We both laughed. That laugh of his was like butter on warm bread. I just couldn’ get enough. I kept laughin’ just to hear him laugh, too.

The work Early had in mind ordinarily would have turned my stomach since I didn’ cotton to dead bodies. But I didn’ think twice when he said he wanted me to help him lay the bodies out—dress, do the hair, shave—make ‘em look like they was alive and jus’ sleepin’. “I only gits an afternoon off every other week,” I said. “That won’ be much help.”

“You don’ work nights, do ya?”

“I’m free after supper is cleaned up. ‘Round ‘bout nine-thirty. That won’ do ya no good, will it?” I hoped and prayed it would.

“Yea, I jest drop by and lets ya know when I needs ya. Time don’ matter none. Dead folk don’ cares a lick ‘bout time.” He chuckled again. I thought if my heart melted any mo’ I’d have to scrape it up off the flo’ and carry it home in my hand.

Fact was I never studied much ‘bout men folk. The ones that visited Mama, colored or white, I steered clear of. I seen enough o’ her beat black and blue to know trustin’ a snake was a safer bet than trustin’ a man. And all that foolishness in the bedroom was just that—foolishness. I wasn’ interested in havin’ no babies, and didn’ see any reason to spin the wheel. Funny thing ‘bout Mama, she didn’ have men comin’ ‘round ‘cept if money got real tight an’ she couldn’t stretch the little bit she got from one pay day to the next. Then men started knockin’ at the do’. See, Mama never got married; didn’ see any sense in saddlin’ herself like that. She always said, “When you needs you a man, one gen’ally turn up.”

Most time she didn’ have no need for one. She kept herself loose, even if she wasn’ what you call “fancy free.” Mama kept her a cow and some chickens, and she had a good green thumb. She was good at makin’ cheese; best you ever put in yo’ mouth. There was even a time that she had her a sow. We didn’ go wantin’ for food. If there was a party or somethin’ at the Stuart’s, she’d bring home some leftovers. Between workin’ up at the Stuart’s, cookin’, and pocketin’ the money them men brought when they come a courtin’, Mama took good care of us. Course, she had to sell the sow off to pay for the hospital bill when the horse kicked Huberta in the head. That doctor made house calls for a good long while after Huberta come home, and there was a whole lot more than just doctorin’ goin’ on.

When I told Mama ‘bout working for Early, she said, “You better watch yo’ self with dat man. He be old enough to be yo’ daddy.”

I was thunderstruck. “He ain’t that old, is he?” I prayed with my toes and fingers; crossed them for the answer to be no.

“Well, he ain’t much younger than me,” she said. “You mighty young to be takin’ up with a man his age.”

“I ain’t takin’ up. I’s jest goin’ to be helpin’ him out a little, is all.” I was hopin’ I
would
be takin’ up with him.

“Um-humm,” was all she said.

At first Early only come by the boardin’ house to fetch me when there was a death. I helped him puttin’ on makeup an’ fixin’ the hair of the ladies or shavin’ the men just like he said he wanted. First one I had to fix up was ol’ Beulah Washington. She wore her hair like mine, up in knots, so it wasn’ so bad. I had to laugh to myself, thinkin’ as little as I know ‘bout fixin’ hair and makeup, it’d kill some of them ladies—if they wasn’ already dead—to know who was workin’ on ‘em. But I did a passable job. Kinfolks wasn’ all that picky ‘bout how the bodies looked, just as long as they didn’ look
dead
. I got better at it after I stopped thinkin’ ‘bout ‘em as dead, but more like they was just “resting.” I made a point not to touch their skin ‘cause no live body is ever that cold. I can tell you, touchin’ that cold skin made mine crawl.

One night after we’d finished up, Early pulled out a bottle of gin and asked me if I wanted some. He said, “I noticed that you and yo’ sister don’ be settin’ on de porch no mo’ havin’a sip from times to times. Just wondered if you wouldn’ mind havin’ a few with me.” I remembered what Alberta had said about Early getting’ drunk an’ beatin’ his first wife. But he was cleaned up now. I eyed the gin suspiciously. Then, since I was a new convert to the bottle myself, I thought,
Who am I to judge if the man wants to enjoy his self after a long day’s work?
He was lookin’ at me with all the kindness in the world, waitin’ for my answer, and I just knew Alberta and all them people was wrong ‘bout him.

Me and Early had us a big time that night in the funeral parlor. We laughed ‘til our sides ached at what Alberta had had in mind for Early on the red sofa. His soft eyes glittered with gold as he shuddered and shook like a man with palsy ev’ry time he mimicked Alberta sittin’ there, pattin’ the seat next to her, and sayin’ in a voice with as much appeal as a hog call, “Come on now, honey, set yo’self right here aside me.” I almost wet myself laughin’.

Early said, “If she ain’ta got mad at my askin’ her ‘bout dat job, I swear I don’ know what I woulda done.” I laughed so hard I couldn’ catch
my breath, while tears streamed down his face. When I woke up the next morning, I had to hightail it to work with a head as big as all outdoors.

After that, me and Early didn’ need nobody to die to see each other. He come by and fetched me ‘most ev’ry night. We went to the juke joint and danced ‘til I thought my feet would fall off, and all the while we drank and drank. There was always somebody there with some whiskey and we’d drink ‘til there wadn’t a drop left. I’d go to work sometime after bein’ up all night, draggin’ my tail ‘round like a beat dog. We did have some fun, though. Alberta was dead wrong. Wasn’t a thing ladyish ‘bout Early. He was a man, and he was mine.

I moved into his house in no time at all. We didn’ keep up with the dancin’ like we did when we was courtin’. We just couldn’t. “Lord, honey, I’s an old man. I can’t keep up with the likes a you,” Early said one night when we had finished the chores. “You gonna have to give this ol’ guy a rest.” But the drinkin’ didn’t stop, and I did my best to keep up with him. Early said he didn’ see no sense in keepin’ on workin’ for that shiftless undertaker since his time was more than filled up with me. I don’ know where the man got the energy to do what he done afore I come along. He’d been workin’ all day as a janitor then at the funeral parlor on weekends and nights when somebody died, and that was on top of keepin’ four cows, some chickens, and three hogs; makin’ hay in the summertime and keepin’ a garden. I did my best to help out, but it seemed like the time I saved him got devoted to drinkin’. Most ev’ry night we drank ourselves to sleep; ‘til I got pregnant.

Chapter 14

Sallee

A
s late winter pressed on, the divorce started affecting our lives more and more. When I stood up for
Show and Tell
and told my class that my mother and daddy were getting a divorce, Miss Bradley, my teacher, took me to the cloakroom. “You don’t tell stories like that to your friends.” She patted my shoulder with the tips of her fingers like, if she touched too much of me, she might catch something. “The other little children don’t need to be frightened. So you just keep your private life to yourself.” She looked at me like I had done something terrible. “Do you hear me?” I nodded that I did. “Then say so young lady.” I didn’t bother to tell anyone at home what happened at school. Things were crazy enough without that.

My mother, or maybe it was Uncle Gordon, had the big idea that Mr. Myers, her lawyer, should talk to us kids about being in court. I don’t know what made them think that a person none of us had ever seen before could cast a calming light on the trauma that awaited us; but somehow they decided that the small, peevish man was just the person to make us understand how we should tell the judge we wanted to live with our mother, because that’s where children belonged—with their mothers. I guess they also thought that going down to a lawyer’s office would make us feel better about the whole thing, like checking in with Santa Claus at the department store before Christmas.