Disappearing Acts (24 page)

“Who?” Christine asked.

My Moms was standing by the table with her hands on her hips and looked like she was pissed off about something. She let out a long sigh and then said, “Can we eat now?” The table was packed with big bowls and platters of food.

What Zora said made perfect sense, and I had a few questions of my own I felt like asking. But I didn’t wanna come across like me and my woman don’t talk about this kinda shit, so I kept my thoughts to myself.

Everybody sat down, and Pops said grace. Afterwards, he insisted on refilling everybody’s drink. I looked at Zora, but it seemed like she didn’t even know I was there. “I’ll just have half of one this time, and that’ll be it for me.”

“So are you saying you think the situation of black people today ain’t got nothing to do with racism?” I asked. I smiled when I said this shit, and Zora gave me one of those sexy grins. I wanted to swallow them orange lips whole.

“I didn’t say that, Franklin. All I’m saying is that we can’t keep blaming white folks for
everything.
I mean, a lot of us are definitely victims, but I also think the reason some of us fail in life goes back to our parents.”

My Moms jabbed her fork against her plate, and it made a scraping noise. She just looked at Zora, then shoved some food in her mouth. She looked like she was getting ready to say something but was too damn mad to say it. The real deal was that Zora just struck a damn chord.

“Meaning what?” I asked.

“Meaning if they instilled more confidence in us, maybe we’d grow up feeling more secure about who we are and what we’re capable of doing, that’s all.”

Just then my Moms threw her fork down on the table, jumped up, and said, “Why don’t you just shut up!” She dug her fingers in her plate and threw some mashed potatoes in Zora’s face.

Everybody—including me—lunged up, then stood around the table staring at my Moms like she was crazy. I swear I saw silver stars dancing in fronta my eyes, so I blinked hard a few times, then realized this shit was happening for real. Zora was backing her chair away from the table, looking like she was in shock. I didn’t even realize I was walking in my Moms’ direction, with my fist balled up. But Pops grabbed my arm.

“Son, please,” he said. Then he turned to Moms. “Jerry! You just had to do something ignorant, didn’t you? You just couldn’t be satisfied until you spoiled everything, could you? Who in the hell do you think you are, pulling some stupid-ass shit like this? Damn.” He threw his napkin on the table and stood up. Pops was fuming—his nostrils was flared—and he was licking his lips like he was getting ready to spit on her or something. I ain’t seen him this mad in years. He was looking down at her like she was a dog that just bit him and he was trying to decide if he should kick it.

I couldn’t believe he had just talked to her like that, even though this ain’t the first time she done pulled some rank shit like this.

“The girl talks too damn much. Just like the rest of
them sluts Franklin done brought home, trying to get my approval. They all the same, except this one done been to college and think she know everything. Well, not in my book. And I ain’t gotta sit in my own house listening to what she thinks is wrong with black folks ’cause she think she so damn high-and-mighty.”

“Jerry, just shut up,” Pops said. He was still standing there like he was waiting to do something.

The boys was covering their mouths and laughing, and what’s-his-name just kept on eating like nothing had went down.

“Mama!” Christine yelled. “She didn’t say nothing wrong, and so what if she did. She’s got a right to her own opinion, and who the hell are you to be throwing food in somebody’s face ’cause you don’t agree with ’em? This is embarrassing as hell.”

I couldn’t believe this shit. Christine was talking back to her too?

My Moms turned to her. “Be quiet, Christine. You the one who started this mess.”

“All of you need to just shut up!”
Darlene screamed out. She was crying, and she threw her empty glass against the wall, turned, and ran downstairs to the basement. I heard the door slam.

“Apologize to Zora, Jerry,” Pops said. He was still standing over her, like he was building up to an explosion. I couldn’t wait.

Zora was just sitting there, not moving.

“I don’t
owe
her no apology. I said exactly what I felt like saying,” Moms said, and picked up her fork and went back to eating her dinner.

“I said apologize, Jerry, and I mean it.”

She rolled her eyes up at him and put a forkful of stuffing in her mouth and started chewing. When Pops grabbed her by the arm so that her fork fell out her hand, she gave him one of them are-you-crazy? looks. I wished he woulda kicked her ass in front of all of
us. I woulda got so much satisfaction out of that, but I knew that was wishful thinking. Moms snatched her arm away from him, and he just backed away the way he always end up doing. But as far as I was concerned, he had accomplished a whole lot today.

“Forget it, Pops,” I said. “She ain’t gotta apologize for being a bitch. She can’t help it.” Then I looked her dead in the eye. “Mashed potatoes in my baby’s face? You better be glad he’s here—you know that, don’t you?”

She picked her fork back up and kept on chewing, like she was the only person in the room. How can he stand her?

“I’m sorry, Zora,” he said, and lit a cigarette, then drank the rest of his drink.

Zora was still in a daze, so I led her upstairs, and I could hear everybody jumping all over my Moms’ case. Something is wrong with that woman, and why she ain’t never been checked out before, I don’t know. I ain’t never seen nobody get so much pleasure outta causing other people pain, especially their own damn kids.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I said to Zora, once I got her inside my old bedroom. “I told you it would be fucked up, didn’t I?”

She flopped down on my twin bed. “I feel sick, Franklin.”

“You need to go to the bathroom?”

“No. I just feel like I need to lay down for a little while.” Then she fell back on the bed, and I figured I’d let her sleep it off.

“Franklin?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“What did I say to make your mother do something like that?”

“Nothing, baby. It ain’t got nothing to do with you. I’m sorry about this, but you lay down for a little while, then we getting the fuck outta here.”

On the way downstairs, all I kept thinking was how much longer I was gon’ be able to stand being in this house. “Just ignore her,” Pops said, and we went back out on the sun porch to watch another game, or the same game, I didn’t know no more. My Moms was still eating. And now Darlene was sitting in a corner, by the china closet, looking like she was completely in orbit or something.

“Anybody want dessert?” my Moms asked, just like June on Leave It to fuckin’ Beaver.

When didn’t nobody say nothing, she sat her ass down at the table by herself and ate a big piece of sweet potato pie. Christine was washing up the dishes, the boys was in the basement and what’s-his-name was down there with ’em.

A hour passed.

I decided to go see if Zora was feeling better, and when I opened the bedroom door, I couldn’t believe my fuckin’ eyes. She had her skirt pulled up and was pissing in my old toy chest.

“What you doing?” I asked, yanking her by the arm, and piss started running down her legs and on the floor.

“Using the bathroom,” she said. Her eyes seemed like they was looking at something—but it definitely wasn’t me. If this little bit of alcohol fucks her up like this, she won’t be doing no more drinking around me. I cleaned her up, sat her down on the edge of the bed, then led her downstairs and got our coats.

“We ready,” I said to Pops. He downed the rest of his drink and went to warm up the car. Everybody except my Moms said goodbye. And on the way to the ferry, Zora fell back to sleep.

“How can you stand her, Pops—I mean, for real?”

“She wasn’t always like this, you know.”

“Coulda fooled me. It’s the only way I ever remember her. Don’t you ever hate her fuckin’ guts?”

“When you’ve been with a person this long, you take them in stride. Your mother has her good and bad points, but she really don’t mean any harm. I think she’s just lonely since all of you’ve grown up and gone your separate ways. You children don’t call or visit anymore, except for Christine. And whether you believe it or not, she does love all of you—in her own way. I think she just doesn’t know how to show it.”

“Well, she could stand a refresher course.”

By the time we pulled into the station, Zora was waking up.

“She’s a nice girl, son. Lord knows she can’t hold her liquor,” he said, laughing. “But I like her. And she’s a smart one.”

“Thanks, Pops. And don’t bother asking when you’ll see us out here again. If you wanna see us, come to our house, and don’t bring
her
.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Swift,” Zora managed to say, and even waved. I shook his hand, then slammed the car door. By the time we got on the ferry, he was still sitting in the parking lot. I know he didn’t wanna go home. I led Zora out on the deck, thinking the cold air might sober her all the way up.

“How you feeling?”

“Better. It’s cold out here, Franklin. Can we sit inside?”

“No, you staying right out here. I’m going to get us some coffee. Some fresh air’ll do you good. You sure you okay?”

“I’m freezing, and my head is killing me.”

“Serves you right,” I said, and went to get the coffee.

*   *   *

By the time we finally got home, Zora was back to normal.

“I’m sorry, Franklin, really I am.”

“I told you. You didn’t do nothing wrong.”

“I had to have said something pretty insulting, or why would your mother have done what she did?”

“Because she’s not playing with a full deck.”

“Franklin, please.”

“I’m serious. The woman’s got problems, Zora, and I’m just sorry that you had to be the victim. I know one thing—now I know why you don’t drink.” I started laughing. “Pissing in my toy chest!”

“What?”

“I busted you pissing in my toy chest—thought you was in the bathroom and shit.” She put her hand over her mouth and held her head down. “It’s okay, baby. Don’t even worry about it.” I lit up a cigarette. “Tell me something. How come you don’t drink?”

“Because it gives me migraines.”

“So why’d you drink some today?”

“’Cause I was nervous.”

“Well, look. Let’s just go to bed and try to forget this whole day, okay?”

“I feel like taking a shower first. That’ll make me feel much better.”

I took off my clothes and laid across the bed. Some kinda way, I wanted to make this up to her. This whole day was a mistake. My dick started getting hard, and my body felt like it needed her, and right now. I turned on the TV, but my mind wasn’t on it. I fell back down on the bed. I wish she would hurry up. By now I had slid my hand around Tarzan and was stroking him, pretending it was Zora’s hands keeping him warm. When she finally came in the bedroom, she opened the drawer with her pajamas in ’em.

“You won’t be needing them.”

She turned and looked at me. “Good,” she said, closing the drawer. “Because right now, Franklin, I need you to hold me—plus some.”

“Come on over to Daddy, then,” I said. She pressed
that luscious body down on top of mine, and I swear to God, I coulda came right then and there, but I didn’t. I wanted to feel her for a while, just like this. But Zora knows how to get what she wants when she wants it. She placed my lips on her breasts and whispered, “Pretend they’re peaches.” Damn, they was juicy and sweet. Everything she gave me was juicy and sweet. So we apologized to each other half the night. Just like that.

*   *   *

I thought I heard a loud thud.

I turned over to put my arms around Zora, but she wasn’t there. Then I heard shit falling, and I sat up and opened my eyes. She was on the damn floor, jerking and carrying on, like she couldn’t help it. “What the fuck is going on?” I asked, but when she didn’t answer me, I jumped up to see if maybe she was just having a bad dream.

But this wasn’t no damn dream. I went to grab her but couldn’t hold her still. She was stronger than me. What the fuck is going on?
“Zora! Zora!”
But now she was drooling, and her body was flipping back and forth like a fish that just been caught. I didn’t wanna step on her, and I didn’t want her to hurt herself, so I started pushing some of this shit out the way—these goddamn plants and the dresser. When I turned around, this time I mustered up every drop of strength I had and tried to pin her hands and arms to the floor. Then she just collapsed—stopped moving altogether—and I felt her body go limp.
“Zora?”
But she didn’t make a sound. Her eyes was closed, and I shook her real hard, when it occurred to me that maybe that was a stupid thing to do. Then she started breathing real hard, and that’s when I saw the blood on the floor. I let go of her arms, and she curled up like a snail.
“Zora baby?”
But she still didn’t answer me. I searched her whole body, until I saw that the blood
was coming from her fingers. My poor baby. I picked her up and put her in the bed and pulled the covers up over her. Then I ran to the bathroom and got a cold, wet washcloth. “Zora?” But she was still out cold. I put my hand on her heart to make sure she was still alive. Shit, I was scared. I didn’t want nothing to happen to my baby. Nothing. When I felt her heart beating, I ain’t never felt so relieved in my life. I wiped the sweat from her face and cleaned off her mouth. Then I threw the rag on the floor and sat there just looking at her, waiting for something to happen. Just when I had decided to call a ambulance, she moved. “Zora? Baby?” But her eyes still didn’t open. I pulled her body up against mine anyway, and put my arms around her and squeezed that woman so tight I had to loosen my hold so she could get some air. I started rocking her and couldn’t stop—I mean, I really couldn’t stop. The next thing I knew, the sun was coming up, and I was still rocking. Finally, I felt her head, and her temperature felt normal. I laid her back down and put my arms around her. “It’s okay, baby,” I said, and kissed all two hundred of them braids on her head, and kept rocking. “Don’t worry, baby,” I whispered in her ear. “Whatever this is, Daddy’s here.”