How to Knock a Bravebird from Her Perch : The First Novel in the Morrow Girls Series (9780985751616) (6 page)

“Y
OU
WANT
ANOTHER
TABLE
? I just sold you one what...nine ten months ago!” Helen thought it was hilarious. “And what’s with the shades, girl? There ain’t no sun out. This is Chicago in November!”

I should’ve waited until she went on lunch and had someone else help me but I didn’t. I strapped Mya into a stroller and told Nikki to stay close. I thought I could cover my limp by wearing pants but a few folks gave me curious looks already and now my best friend was. Maybe I wanted her to know.

“Can I get the same one?”

“Why you wanna get the same one? What’s the point in that?”

“It broke.”

“Oh well, girl, why you ain’t just say so? You know they’ll replace it or fix it or whatever. Just tell me what part broke.”

“All of it.”

“All of it? How you go and do that?”

I wanted to tell her I had help. That I had bruises and cuts that would never heal. But I didn’t.
 

W
HEN
I
GOT
HOME
Ricky was waiting and he wasn’t alone. Aunt Clara was his daddy’s sister. She was short and round but spoke her mind and spoke it clearly. She used to have a beauty shop back when she lived down South but it closed a few years before Ricky sent for her. She hugged the little ones first, making sure to comment on how much Mya looked like Ricky then came in to hug me.

“Pecan, don’t like to be hugged, Auntie.”

“Oh. Why not?”

“She just don’t. She’s going upstairs to lie down.”

That was my cue. I took my time going up the stairs but tried not to wince too much. It was nice of Ricky to have his aunt come stay with us. I don’t think that at the time he thought too much about what it would really mean. Aunt Clara never had kids, never got married. She said men were too much trouble. On top of all that, she wasn’t the kinda woman to take no stuff neither. Thinking back on it, Ricky must have been real desperate to have an extra set of hands around the house.

Taking off my coat was such a chore I decided to lie down with my clothes on. I set my shades on the nightstand so they looked back at me. My left eye was swollen shut so I couldn’t see outta it. Ricky had a way with the front door, a way of closing it and opening it that let me know it was him. And I knew he had to go to the gym so the sound of it clicking shut made sense. I lied there, listening to Aunt Clara playing with the girls and dozed off. When I woke up I smelt the most delicious smells.

“Hungry?” She stood at the door holding a tray of steaming food.

“Um...” I nearly broke my neck trying to get my shades back on.

Aunt Clara just set the tray on the foot of the bed and walked out. She came back when she was sure I was done, this time she brought a dishtowel soaked with ice cubes. “Let’s take these off,” she said, removing my shades. “What you really need is some meat but I’m gonna put this on your eye for a little bit. It’s cold, now, so don’t be shocked.”

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to say something. “Thank you,” squeaked out.

Aunt Clara was a gift from God. I’m sure she ain’t know it but I did. I never missed having a mama, not really, not until I had Clara. The missing part ain’t last too long, though, because I learned how to be a mama from watching her. Even though she didn’t have kids she had a real mothering kinda way about her. Everybody around her couldn’t help but feel loved. Folks in the neighborhood flocked to our kitchen door, asking for advice or just wanting somebody to pray with them. Clara would make them some coffee and light herself a cigarette at the kitchen table. Me and Nikki watched while she saved women from nosy neighbors and cheating husbands and bosses that treated them like they were made of steel. These women would come in crying or so angry they couldn’t sit still. Clara had her way and they left just as calm as could be.
 

She had that effect on me and Ricky too. Over the next few months everything changed. Ricky ain’t lay a hand on me except to be real loving. He made a point of taking me out a few times a month. Sometimes we’d go dancing. It was a real sight, me as big as I was. But he ain’t seem to care so I ain’t care. It was fun. Fun that we should’ve had before we got married. Yeah, only took a few months before Aunt Clara was a full-fledged member of our family and we were all loving on her. She had no plans to leave, not that we would’ve let her. She was teaching me to make butter beans the way Ricky’s grandmama did and telling me all about the good old days when I came up with the name.
 

“Jackie.”

“Jackie what, hun?” She always called me hun. Not honey, just hun. And sometimes she’d call me Pecan girl.

“I’ma name her Jackie.”

She shuffled around the kitchen with a cigarette dangling from her lips, chuckling in the way that she did when she found something sorta funny, not all the way funny. “You done with them onions?”

“You don’t like Jackie?”

“I likes it just fine. I see you done named Nikki, Nikki not Nicole. Jackie ain’t a proper name. Jacqueline. Now that’s what you put on the papers. Spell it real fancy like with a q.”

I nodded. It was settled. I patted my belly, thinking about the little person that would soon be coming out. Wondering if she’d look like me or Ricky. I ain’t really care I just wanted to be sure she would love me. I think I loved all my kids the same. Well I tried to anyway. But I’m pretty sure they didn’t all love me the same. I just wanted one that I knew loved me. That ain’t make me feel like I was inside out. I shut my eyes and tried to send all my love to my belly. If she felt it, maybe when she came out she’d be ready to give some of it back.

“Now how you gone finish chopping onions with your eyes closed?” Clara laughed at me and I felt warm all over. I was funny. I ain’t know I was funny until Aunt Clara laughed at me. “Pecan girl, I tell you...God must have been feeling real good the day he made you.” She exhaled a ring of smoke and her eyes danced all giddy like at me.

“Why you say that?”

“Because it’s true. That’s something my mama used to say when one of us did something particular that she found funny. I tell you about the time Ricky’s daddy—my brotha—decided he was gone catch himself a chick-en?” I shook my head and waited for the story to begin. Nikki was sitting on my lap but she slid down to the floor, giggling at Clara’s face, how she pronounced every syllable of the word. “Well, see, we lived on a farm. We had chick-ens but daddy said those was his chick-ens and he meant to sell them. Bobby Lee ain’t like that. He got it in his head that he was going to have his own farm with his own chick-ens. Pass me them onions since you done with them.” I met her at the stove and offered up my part a the meal. “Just go on and dump them in there.”

“All of them?”

“Yeah, whatcha wanna save them for? Now Bobby Lee call himself sneaking into the chick-en coop to get an egg so he can have himself a chick-en. He got in there and all the chick-ens go crazy, flapping and quacking, feathers flying everywhere. They start attacking him with they sharp little beaks and he come out screaming, calling on Jesus to save him. Know what happened?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Daddy came outside, saw what he was up to, and he was about to get Bobby Lee good but he figured the chick-ens had already got him. The next day Bobby Lee went back to the chick-en coop. He said they were introduced now so there wasn’t gone be no problems. Know what happened?”

“They attacked him.”

“Yeah. Damn near put his eye out. My brotha wasn’t too bright. And he sure was hard-headed.”
 

“He went back again?”

“Mama had to finally tell him, she say...Bobby Lee, you got to know when enough’s enough. He couldn’t ever tell when enough was enough. Did everything too much. Drank too much. Ate too much. Had too many women. Sung too damn loud. And he never hit the right keys!”

“Too bad Ricky never knew him.”

“Who said he ain’t never knew him?” She shook her head just once and flicked the stub of her cigarette into an empty soda can. “They ain’t lived nothing but a few blocks from each other his whole life! Ricky mama and Bobby Lee was sweet on each other something terrible. Since they were real little. Hell, all of Biloxi knew that! Bobby Lee just ain’t wanna sit still, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh.”

“He my brotha, the only one I got so you know I ain’t gonna lie on him. He was the first one of us to...go on. Mama and daddy ain’t know what to do. Ain’t no parent supposed to bury their child.”

“Guess not. Wish I could’ve met him.”

“Yeah...” Clara gave me a firm kinda smile. “He would’ve liked you. You’d probably liked him. Wasn’t many people that ain’t like Bobby Lee.”

“Ricky like that.”

“N’all he not.” Clara shook her head twice for good measure then went back to the beans. “They ain’t nothing alike—Ricky and his daddy. For all his faults Bobby Lee was sweet.”

Nikki stood on her tippy toes, demanding that I watch her be a ballerina. That’s what they were teaching her in preschool. How to be a ballerina.

“Ricky’s sweet, Auntie.” Then as if to test my point Mya ran stumbling into the kitchen. My heart nearly stopped.
 

“Pecan girl, you okay? What is it? Is it the baby?”

“No, no, Auntie, I’m fine. I’m fine.” I reminded myself that Ricky had changed. He hadn’t even yelled at me in months. Things were good, perfect even.
 

“M
MMM
, P
ECAN
,
YOU
FEELING
real good, baby.” Ricky whispered in my ear. He told me that so much now that I was starting to feel it myself. “You hear me, baby?”

“Mmhmm.” I sorta mumbled, afraid that Aunt Clara would wake up to the sounds of us making love.

Ricky ain’t care. He’d do it with the door wide open. He’d get into bed butt-ass naked and wrap his leg over my hip. I’d seen two stray dogs do that once. If I was asleep he’d start off real slow and gentle like, moaning and groaning in my ear. Wanting me to remind him how he was my first and only. Sometimes he’d have me bend over the edge of the bed and he’d really go to town. At first I was worried about Jackie but the doctor said it shouldn’t be a problem. I was kinda glad of that since I was starting to enjoy doing it a bit more. Paula said that was crazy, that she couldn’t stand for her husband to touch her when she was pregnant. I agreed for the first two but something had changed. He was crazy about me, couldn’t get enough, and I loved it. When we would finish he’d hold me close—squeezing my tit in one hand, the other hand planted firmly against my stomach.