It's All About The Moon When The Sun Ain't Shining (11 page)

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Authors: Ernest Hill

BOOK: It's All About The Moon When The Sun Ain't Shining
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“I know,” I said.
“I mean it. I know I don't always show it, but I am deeply in love with you. It's just that sometimes—”
“Shhh,” I said. “No speeches. I don't want to think right now,” I said. “I just want to be with you and enjoy this moment. I missed you so much when I was away. More than you can ever imagine. I don't want to get into anything heavy ... not now, not tonight.”
I saw her lower her head and look away; she was crying again. I took one of her hands in both of mine.
“Don't cry,” I said. “I don't ever want you to cry.”
“I can't help it,” she said.
“Things gon' work out,” I said. “They always do.”
“I just wish we could go away,” she said. “Just me and you. And start our life together just like we always planned.”
“We will,” I said.
“Do you mean it?”
“Of course, I do,” I said.
“When?” she said.
“Soon.”
“How soon?”
“I don't know,” I said.
“What about May?” she said.
“May!” I said.
“Yes ... May. Right after you graduate. It's perfect.”
“I don't know,” I said.
“Why not?” she asked. “It's the way we always planned it. We'd finish school, then we would get married.”
“I know,” I said.
“You've changed your mind?”
“No,” I said. “Don't be ridiculous.”
“Then what?”
“Law school,” I said.
She pushed from the table and walked next to the window.
“I have to make a decision soon,” I said. “They'll only hold the scholarship until the first of the year. I need to let them know in a few days.”
“I won't put my life on hold for you or no other man,” she said. “I won't.”
“I'm not asking you to,” I said.
“You are,” she said.
“Baby.”
“No,” she said. “I won't.”
She turned toward me, and I could see the tears.
“I don't understand,” I said.
“All my life, I seen my mama struggling because she was living somebody else's life ... operating behind somebody else's dream. That ain't for me, Maurice. It's two of us in this relationship, and what you talking about don't work for me. You want to go to law school, go, but like I said before, when you leave, don't come back 'cause won't be nothing here for you.”
“You don't mean that.”
“I do,” she said. “As much as it pains me to think about it, I do.”
“I'm sorry about your folks,” I said. “I know it's been hard on you, but I ain't your daddy,” I said. “You need to understand that.”
“Don't fool yourself,” she said. “You daddy all over. You just don't know it yet, that's all.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“You a dreamer,” she said. “And your dreams come first. To hell with me or anybody else. It's all about you and what you want to be.”
She lowered her head and began to cry again.
“This is about us,” I said. “And our future. Why can't you see that?”
“You ever heard Daddy sing?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“Ever hear him play the guitar?”
I shook my head again.
“I'll tell him to play for you one day.”
“What's this got to do with us?” I asked.
“Tell me in his day he was a guitar playing fool ... and could sing. Lord, they say he could sing a woman right out of her draws on his worst day. And that's what him and Mama hitched they horse to. He was gon' sing them right out of the projects, so he took to playing that guitar and running all over the place while she pittled on one dead-end job after another trying to make ends meet. In the meantime, the babies kept coming ... Guess he couldn't give up his dream and find a job to take care of his family, but he could quit long enough to climb on top of Mama and try to knock a hole into next week. Naw, Maurice, that ain't for me. Now, I put my life on hold for you to go to college, and you did that. Now, it's time for you to find a job and start providing.”
“But—”
“But nothing,” she said. “I'm tired, Maurice. I'm tired of living with my mama and my daddy, I'm tired of dealing with their drama, and I'm tired of waiting on you.”
“Baby,” I said, “it's just three more years. Can't you wait three more years?”
“Three mo' years!” she said. “I ain't waiting three more minutes.”
“Baby, please,” I said. “Don't be this way.”
“No, Maurice. I mean it.”
“But why?”
“Why!” she said.
“Yes,” I said. “Why?”
She turned her back to me, crying. I placed my hand on her shoulder. She turned back and faced me.
“Okay, Maurice, let's say I agree to wait three years, then what? Halfway through you come to me and tell me you made a mistake. You don't want to be no lawyer. What you really want to be is a goddamn astronaut ... Naw, Maurice, I can't do it. I love you, it's true, but I love me too.”
“That's not gon' happen,” I said. “I know what I want to be.”
“And I know what I want you to be too,” she said.
“What's that?” I asked.
She looked at me; I saw her lips part. “Employed.”
“I will be,” I said. “Soon as I finish law school.”
“Take me home,” she said.
“Omenita!”
“Take me home,” she said.
“Can't we talk about this?”
“I've said all I have to say.”
“Why do you always do this?” I asked.
“Do what?” she asked.
“Draw a line in the sand.”
“I don't know what you talking about,” she said.
“Maybe it's you that's like your daddy,” I said.
“Take me home,” she said.
“Aw, so that how it's gon' be?” I said.
“Take me home,” she said, again.
“Baby, please,” I said.
“Decide,” she said, “and when you do, you know where to find me. In the meantime, leave me alone.”
“I have decided,” I said. “I'm going to law school.”
“Is that right?” she said.
“That's right,” I said.
“Well, I don't reckon I'll be needing this.”
She twisted the ring from her finger and threw it at me.
“Aw right,” I said. “If that's the way you want it.”
“That's the way I want it,” she said.
“Fine!” I said. “Home it is.”
Chapter Thirteen
F
razzled, I put the ring in my pocket and took Omenita home, and once I saw that she was safely inside, I pulled from the curb and guided the truck back onto the street. And as I drove, I cursed myself inwardly, for now I felt lost and hollow and alone. A thousand times I started to turn back, but for some inexplicable reason, I did that which to me seemed impossible; I continued onward, in spite of the powerful forces summoning me back to undo the moment we had just lived. Yes, we had done this dance before, but somehow this seemed different. And the thought that this could be permanent tugged at my heart and twisted my mind in such a way that the simple act of breathing seemed too painful to bear.
I am a man. I told myself this over and over. And as a man, I had to find the strength to stand for that which was right. But with each mile I put between us, I felt my resolve weaken and my doubt rise until I was not sure that the principle for which I had stood was worth the price I might have to pay. And as I wrestled with the decision, I felt the pain from the shame of my weakness boring into my soul and piercing my consciousness until the tears that I had been fighting broke free, and in spite of my best effort, I felt myself crying.
I parked the truck next to the house, but I did not get out. Instead, I remained there crouched over the wheel, trying to collect myself, for now I was in a free fall and my tattered emotions were such that I was not sure that I could stand, and if I could I was not sure that my legs, weak and fatigued, could carry me from where I was to where I needed to be. And if they could, I was not sure that my pained eyes would not betray me and reveal to those inside my weakened state, rendering me further shame for I was convinced that the conduct I was displaying would be perceived as that of a child and not that of a man.
I took a deep breath and dried my eyes and stepped from the truck. And though the wind was blowing and the temperature had dropped, I did not feel cold, rather I felt warm and moist and numb. I crossed the yard and mounted the steps, and I did not knock, for the lights were on and it was still early, and in all likelihood the door was not locked. I twisted the knob and pushed. The door swung in and I stepped inside. Daddy was sitting on the sofa; Mama was next to him.
“Back so soon?” Daddy asked me.
“Yes, sir,” I said. My voice was low, my head was hung.
“Everything aw right?” he wanted to know.
I shook my head. I felt my eyes water.
“What's wrong, son?” Daddy asked, sitting erect. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came. I felt my lips tremble. And I fought to stay the tears and quail my lips for though I could cry I would not cry, not here, not now, not in front of them.
“Son,” Daddy said. “What is it?”
He raised to his feet and stood before me.
“She gave me the ring back.”
Daddy looked at me, stunned.
“What happened?” he asked. And when he did I felt a hollow sensation where my heart had been. It was vast, it was empty, it was hot.
“I don't want to talk about it,” I said.
Mama had been concerned, but when she heard what I said, I saw her relax, then I heard her say: “Good riddance.”
And when she said it, I looked at her, and I felt rise in me an anger that until that moment I had not known.
“I love her, Mama,” I said. “Can't you understand that?”
“Well obviously she don't love you,” Mama said.
“Audrey,” Daddy said. “That's enough.”
“I'll be in my room,” I said.
“Son,” I heard Daddy call to me, but I did not stop and I would not stop, for now I needed to be alone in my room where I could lie and ponder these emotions, which at the moment I neither welcomed nor understood. I could hear him behind me when I entered my room and though he did not call to me again, I knew that he would enter. And I also knew that he would not pry and he would respect my feelings and my desires because to him, I was his son, but I was no longer a boy. No, I was a man; as much as he and much as Grandpa Luke, as much as anyone.
“You aw right, son?”
I was lying on my stomach.
“Not really,” I said.
“You want to talk about it?”
“Don't know if I did the right thing,” I said.
“I'm sure you did what you felt was right.”
“Maybe I ought go back over there.”
“No,” Daddy said. “She left you, you didn't leave her. Run behind her now, you'll be running behind her the rest of your life. You got to wait her out. She left ... she the one got to come back.”
“What if she don't?” I asked.
“If she love you, she'll come to her senses. If she don't, she won't.”
“What am I gon' do then?” I asked.
“Pick again,” he said.
I looked away and I wanted to cry, but I knew that I would not. At least not while Daddy was present.
“Got to put your mind on something else for a while. It'll all work out. You a good man. Omenita know that. She just trying you, that's all... . Just got to stand your ground 'til this thing blow over.”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
I felt Daddy's hand on my shoulder.
“You had your dinner?”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“You need anything?”
For an answer, I shook my head.
“Well, I'll get out your way then.”
I felt the spring give as Daddy pressed against the bed to stand, and when he was upright, he looked at me and smiled. “See you in the morning,” he said.
“Okay, Daddy,” I said. “See you in the morning.”

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