Leaving: A Novel (35 page)

CHAPTER 2C

MAY 1979   •   LIDA 19

FOR THREE MORE
months, Lida and Marcus stayed in Gina and David’s living room. Lida lay next to Marcus one night on the couch in the dark and held her pregnant stomach. Inside was this person growing, pushing her body out of shape. The closer she got to being a mother, the more she wished she could push it back down into itself. She would be glad if it wasn’t a girl, but she wished it didn’t have to be a boy either. A girl would get nothing but taken advantage of in this world. But a boy—how was she supposed to love this boy, this man-to-be? She couldn’t even bring herself to love Marcus. She used to think she loved him, when she lay with him and had that feeling of forgetting in his arms, but was that love? It was not toward him that she felt something at those moments, but away from everything else. It was maybe the closest she could get.

The baby kicked. It was a boy, she could tell: obstinate, aggressive. She couldn’t teach a boy not to be a man, just as she could not keep a girl from being used by men. The world had already made up its mind, and it was much bigger than her own desires. The only thing she could do was to drink and smoke to make it small. That’s what Gina had done with Malcolm, so he wouldn’t hurt as much coming out.

It was after three o’clock in the morning when Marcus came home from practicing with David and the band at Eli’s. They were preparing for a short tour of the blues clubs from Santa Cruz to L.A., a three-week circuit in preparation for a bigger one to the Midwest later. David said that before any record company would sign them, they had to get their name out and build a following.

Marcus woke Lida up, as he did every night when he came home, sliding under the covers on the couch and then starting to toss and turn. It wasn’t much use getting back to sleep when she felt so warm anyway. She got off the couch and lay on the floor. Her back had hurt for months, but she wasn’t about to go beg her mother for her old room again.

There was a gunshot outside, but Marcus just turned and put the pillow over his head. Lida rolled on her side and got up to get some food. She had to be quiet because the door to Gina and David’s room was at the other end of the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and stared at the food. They each brought home something from Lucky’s, so the refrigerator was always full, mostly with snacks.

She took out a carton of cherry ice cream and a can of beer. The TV was at the foot of the couch, but it didn’t seem to bother Marcus when she watched it with the volume low this late at night. She sat on the floor a foot away from the TV and wrapped a knitted blanket around her shoulders as she sipped the cool beer and ate ice cream. The movie was a black and white from the fifties. A rich White woman who talked funny was supposed to get married to a guy who talked funny.

Gina came out of the kitchen in her slippers and bathrobe. When she saw Lida, she went and got a beer and then came and joined her on the floor.

“What you watchin?”

“Some bullshit.” The flickering TV lit up Lida’s face.

“I couldn’t sleep neither before Malcolm come out. Let me touch.” She put her hand on Lida’s belly. “I don’t feel him. He must be sleepin.”

“Yeah, he’s sleeping, now that I’m up. David wake you up?”

“Shots. Or maybe sympathy feelin for you, I guess.”

Lida smiled and laid her head on Gina’s shoulder. She continued to stare at the TV The woman in the movie went into a little house to change into a bathing suit and swim in her pool.

“I don’t want to have this baby,” Lida said.

“Girl, it’s a little late for that now. You just about due next month.”

“I know.”

“It ain’t so bad.” Gina rubbed Lida’s head.

“Shush!” Marcus yelled and pulled the pillow tighter over his ears. The two women looked at him and then went back to talking.

“Don’t you want a baby, someone who’s gonna love you with all its might?” Gina asked.

“No. I don’t want nothin to love me like that.” Lida sipped her beer. “I can’t do nothin but let it down. I can’t hardly take care of my own self. And look at this place. What kind of world is Malcolm growing up in, with people shootin outside and all us livin here? Now we gonna have two babies in this house? Uh-uh, I ain’t lookin forward to it.”

“Honey,” Gina said. “You just feelin low-down, that’s all. You gonna get past it.”

“I’m thinking of just jumping off the Bay Bridge.”

“You got to jump off the Golden Gate,” Marcus said from under the pillow. “That’s the proper way to do it.”

“You shush up,” Gina said.

“All right, honey,” Lida said to Marcus. “I’ll make it the Golden Gate just for you.”

“Why don’t you go do it now, so I can get some sleep.”

“Fine.” She stood up and went to the front door, dressed in just her shorts and a large pink shirt.

“Shut up, Marcus. Lida, you ain’t goin nowhere.” Gina grabbed her sleeve.

“Let go a me.”

“See now, Marcus?” Gina yelled. “See what you doin? You a pig, Marcus, tellin your wife with a child to go and jump off a bridge.”

“Shut up, bitch.”

“Don’t you call me a bitch in my own house.”

Marcus took the pillow off his face. “This our house too. We pay our rent and we sleep out here on the couch and get no sleep. So I’ll call you a bitch if I want to.”

David came out from the kitchen, his shirt off and his blue jeans unbuckled. He kept his eyes closed and yawned. “Why you callin my wife a bitch, Marcus?”

“’Cause she is one. She tellin me how I’m supposed to talk to my own wife.”

Lida opened the front door and walked out of the apartment.

“See what you doin?” Gina yelled. “He told her to jump off the bridge. Now is that the way you supposed to talk to your wife?”

“Goddamn.” Marcus put the pillow back over his head. “I hope she just do it. I’m so sick of her talkin about it. I wish she’d just do it, if she’s going to, and get it all over with.”

David scratched his stomach. “Damn, Marcus, you ought to let up on her.”

“So now you’re telling me?”

David waved his hand and went out after Lida. He followed her down the stairs and found her on the bottom landing, sitting on the cement floor and crying. He sat down next to her without touching her.

“I remember how Gina was,” he said.

Lida didn’t say anything until she could keep herself from crying. They sat beside each other, the moths flying into the light above.

“I feel awful,” she finally said.

“I know.”

“I mean it. I can’t take this shit.”

“It’s just another few weeks and then you’ll be light again.”

“I can’t take another few weeks. You all out every night till forever and I got to have this child. I need to sleep. I need something. I need something more than just this beer and shit. What you got on you?”

“What you mean?”

“Don’t play with me, David. I need something.”

“You don’t really want to get back into that again, do you?”

“What kinda pusher are you? Just tell me what you got for me or leave me alone.”

“I got a cap on me.” David dug down into his pocket and pulled up a small baggy with a twisted-off corner of heroin.

“I’ll pay you later. Just turn me on now to get through tonight. Just a little taste, not to get hooked again.”

David handed her the cap and she opened the baggy. She stuck her nose into the corner and sniffed, alternating with each nostril until it was gone. Then she leaned back and put her head against the wall.

“I feel so awful,” she said.

“You don’t look so awful.”

“Ha.”

“Really. You always look good.”

“Very funny.”

“I always tell Marcus you’re the finest woman I’ve ever seen.”

Lida wiped her nose and looked over at him out of the corners of her eyes.

“I ain’t lyin. You look twice as good pregnant as most women look regular.”

“Hmmm,” she said, and closed her eyes.

David put out his hand and touched her shoulder. He let it stay there for a second and then, as if he were afraid to keep it there too long, he took it off.

“You don’t feel bad to me. You feel pretty good.”

She laughed.

“Come on,” he said. “Come on upstairs.” He stood and reached his hands down to her. She shook her head.

“I don’t want to see him,” she said.

“You don’t have to. He’ll be asleep. Come on. You can stay in our bed.” She opened her eyes and looked at him suspiciously.

“Really,” he said. “Come on.”

She took his hands and let him pull her up.

“I’m so tired,” she said.

“You tired now, just wait till you have the kid. ‘Baby’ ain’t a four-letter word for nothing. Shit. You two got to get yourself a place. It just isn’t right for you to be in our living room raising a child. It’s no wonder you two always on each other.”

She held on to the handrail and took the first step, and he went up behind her, supporting her, his hand on her lower back.

*   *   *

TWO WEEKS LATER,
Marcus went to see Ruby. It was a Sunday, and Cranston was alive with people in their nicest clothes coming back from church. First he stopped at the corner market. He wanted to buy gum to freshen his mouth, anything to lessen the offense Ruby already felt toward him. He also bought a rose to give her.

Ruby’s was the seventh house down on the left side. He couldn’t believe his own nervousness, as if he were going to ask Ruby for Lida’s hand in marriage. He walked up the steps and rang the doorbell, then brushed at a spot on his slacks where some water had dripped off the rose. As he expected, nobody came to the door. Ruby sometimes worked on the weekends, but this was right after church so she was bound to be coming home soon. He’d planned it this way so she couldn’t ignore him by not answering the door.

He sat on the top step and picked the thorns off the rose stem as families walked past. The sun shone brightly, and he nodded at the women in their hats, and they smiled back at him with his flower. He’d known most of these women as kids, and now they had kids of their own.

“How you doin, Marcus?” one of the women yelled.

“Fine. Fine. How you doin?” He shaded his eyes with his hand to get a better look at her, but he still didn’t recognize her.

“Fine,” she said. “We moved into Acorn Projects just a few months ago.”

“Seem like everybody moving there, these days.”

“Sure do. All the rich movin out and all the rest goin to Acorn.” Her husband pulled at her arm. “Well, good to see you. Take care now.”

“You too.” She walked away and he stared after her, trying to remember something about who she was. So when Ruby came down the street, he didn’t see her at first. She wore a white dress that she’d embroidered with shell patterns. It fit snug around her large shoulders and hips.

“Lawd, if it isn’t the prodigal son hisself come home. Help me up these stairs here, Marcus.” She seemed as relaxed and happy to see him as if she had set up the meeting herself. Marcus took one of her arms as she pulled on the railing with the other.

“Whoo-wee, them stairs keep gettin taller.” She wiped her brow and then dug in her purse for her keys. “Preacher said today was the day we need to start forgivin our enemies, but then again he always sayin that.”

“See now, that’s what I don’t understand. Why am I your enemy, Mrs. Washington?” She opened the door, pulled her swollen feet out of her shoes, and placed each shoe neatly next to the doormat. Marcus did the same. Ruby glanced at the rose as he struggled to get his shoe off with one hand.

“I guess that flower’s for me. Why don’t you get a jar from the kitchen and fill it up with water.” She sat down in the rocking chair and closed her eyes. “Why don’t you get me a glass of water too, while you’re at it.”

Marcus got two jam jars out of the cupboard and filled them with water. He brought them into the living room and put the rose on the table between them. He had to break off the lower part of the stem to make it stay.

“Just give me mines over here on this stand. Now hand me that Bible right next to it.” Marcus delivered the water and handed her the leather-bound Bible, then sat down on the couch. Ruby raised her reading glasses onto her nose and took a moment to page through St. Luke.

“What you make of this, Marcus?” She pointed at the place on the page and waited for him to stand up again. He came around behind her and read:

“‘If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple.’ Now what you think that mean? Christ hisself say that.”

Marcus shook his head.

“The preacher told us that you must first plan before you go on and build a tower or fight some war, but I still don’t see how that’s got anything to do with it. Lessen it means you got to be down before you can follow the Savior.”

“Could be that, Mrs. Washington.”

“Marcus, you my son-in-law now, so call me Ruby. I see you wearin your Lucky’s pin and got yourself all fussed up for me so that I’ll say you done changed your ways.”

“Yes ma’am.” Marcus wished he had his guitar in front of him. He always felt better with his guitar between himself and others.

“You lost but now you found. That what you sayin?”

“Yes ma’am.” Ruby took a sip of water and put it back on the cast-iron stand.

“Lida at work?”

“No. No, she’s not feeling so well right now.”

“She sick?”

“No. Nothin like that. She just gettin down to those last weeks, you know. Ready to have the child. That’s why I think she needs to be here. It ain’t good for her where we’re staying. It’s too crowded and she needs some better space.”

Ruby rocked back in the chair and nodded her head. “You got a name for him yet?”

“I was thinking about a name from the Bible.” He smiled at her. “I was thinking about Paul.”

Ruby stopped rocking and looked at him angrily. “What you know ’bout the Bible, Marcus? You haven’t been to church since the day you was last in your father’s house. You leave your own and take mines from me and come around here expectin that I’m gonna fall right into your little game? Paul! You tell me one thing you know ’bout Paul.”