Leaving Atlanta (22 page)

“That motherfucker.” She said it slow and quiet like she was amazed.

“It wasn’t one of the good spoons.” She acted like she didn’t hear me.

“Sweet Pea,” she said. “You missing anything?”

I shook my head.

She went in her room and yanked at her top dresser drawer. It was stuck. Mama pulled at it softer, whispering sweet talk as
she eased the wood back and forth. Finally, it opened far enough for her to slide her hand up under her stack of nightgowns
and get out a fuzzy little box. Inside was her ring with all the little diamonds in the shape of a heart. She say she’s going
to give that to me when I finish college. She pressed it to her chest.

“Where’s your bank?” she asked, reaching for cigarettes.

We went into my room and got the smiley-face bank down from the shelf. It was empty.

“Did you have some money in here?” She tried the lighter twice before she got a tired little flame.

I shook my head no so I wouldn’t have to tell a lie with my mouth. There had been almost three dollars in that bank that I
was saving for the book fair at school. I earned it doing little things for old people for maybe a quarter. Sometimes just
a dime. I couldn’t tell this to Mama because she didn’t like for me to go into people’s homes or to take money.

“What about the five dollars Granny sent you for your school supplies?”

That money had been a long time gone, but I nodded my head. “I had three dollars left.”

Mama sat on my bed and put her hand to her forehead like she was trying to keep her face from falling off. She put her cigarette
to her lips and let it go with a sound like a small kiss. The Hamiltons next door had their TV up too loud and I heard fake
laughing. I leaned my face on Mama’s cool arm.

“I’ll give you the three dollars back on Friday.”

“But what about Uncle Kenny? Is the doctor going to let him die?”

Mama breathed out hard. “That fool boy going to let himself die.”

Kenny stayed gone till after the late news. Mama turned off the TV, but she didn’t go to bed. In the mirror over my dresser,
I watched the picture shrink to a white dot. Mama sat in the dark for a few minutes flicking her lighter on and off. I couldn’t
see the little blue sparks but I heard the scratchy sound. Then I heard Uncle Kenny’s key in the door.

“Yvonne,” he said. “What you doing up?”

“Where you been?”

“What?”

“Where you been, Kenny?”

“Why you talking to me like that?” he said. “I left my mother in Macon.”

“I believe you left your common sense there too.”

“What’s wrong with you?” He switched on the TV. The room went purple, then blue.

“Kenny.” Mama had to talk loud over Johnny Carson. “You said you wanted to come to Atlanta to try and get yourself a better
job than you could get at home.”

“I’m looking! You see me with the paper every day.” Kenny’s voice rose high like a girl.

“You come into my house. Take advantage of my child.”

“What? I didn’t touch Sweet Pea.”

My stomach clenched up. The beans and rice that I had for dinner pushed up like I was going to vomit, but it just stayed in
my chest and burned.

“You stole from her. What kind of grown-ass man would take three fucking dollars out of a child piggy bank?”

“I didn’t even know she had a bank.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Mama snapped. “You the one said you left your mama in Macon. You in
my
house now.
I
don’t think you’re handsome.
I’m
not the one who thinks you can do no wrong. Now I’m wondering what you can do right.”

“Yvonne, what’s wrong with you?”

The TV colored the dark room like nighttime lightning.

“Kenny, what’s wrong with
you?
”

“I’m getting tired of these mind games.” He wanted to sound tough but his voice was wobbly. “You need to tell me what’s on
your mind or get out of my face.”

“Oh!” Mama said with a little laugh that sounded like a bark. “
I’m
the one playing games.
You
the one acting like you want to make something out yourself while being a undercover junkie.”

“You went in my bag?” Uncle Kenny shouted. “I don’t believe you.”

“
You
don’t believe
me?
”

Every time he said something, she threw it back on him. I felt bad for him. He sounded like he was going to cry.

“You brought dope needles into my house where Sweet Pea could get them.”

“Sweet Pea saw?”

“She was a mess.” Her voice went high like she was mocking me. “So in love with her Uncle Kenny.” Now her voice went nasty.
“But now she know you ain’t nothing.”

“What you tell her?”

“She was crying like the world was over.”

“What else she say?”

I curled myself into a little knot because I didn’t want to hear Mama lying on me and I couldn’t take it if Uncle Kenny told
her the truth.

The next morning Mama didn’t go to work. She was at the table having Kools and coffee for breakfast. She told me that Kenny
went back to Macon because he missed Granny.

Mama said that he is a junkie. She said that to Granny and they didn’t talk again for two weeks. It’s a stupid word. Junkie.
Sounds like he didn’t put his things back in their proper place. Delvis say he hate junkies too. When we see a needle on the
sidewalk, he kick it in the street, then wipe his shoe off like he just got through stepping in some dog doo-doo. I don’t
kick the needles when I see them because the junkie might come back looking for it and junkies don’t like people messing with
they stuff.

Then I got my period. It wasn’t a big deal. I had a box of supplies at home and a little pink book explaining what was what,
so I was ready. But I wasn’t ready
today.
Talk about the wrong thing happening at the wrong time. Not only was I wearing a nice dress, but my supplies was at home.
I made do with some toilet tissue folded up until I could go see Mrs. Grier after school.

After the bell, I baby-stepped all the way to the second-grade class; all the kids was gone except for one little boy. Mrs.
Grier was giving him a small plastic bag with his tooth in it. “Now, Turner,” she told him, “when you get home, rinse your
mouth with salty water.”

“Okay,” he said.

She looked hard at him from the corner of her eyes and he corrected himself. “Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s better.” She smiled. “Put the tooth under your pillow. If the tooth fairy doesn’t leave you anything, tell me in the
morning. Sometimes the treats are delivered to my door instead.”

Turner nodded his head and left.

Crazy as it sounds, I was kind of mad at Mrs. Grier. She had told me the same thing when I was in her class. The only difference
was that she gave me some Girl Scout cookies because my tooth didn’t just
fall
out. It got
knocked
out when Lucius Petty put his leg out to trip me. But still, I didn’t like to think of her being so nice to everybody like
it was her job or something.

She looked up and saw me in the doorway. “Hello, Octavia,” she said, still smiling the smile she had left over from Turner.

I didn’t say anything.

“Remember when you lost your tooth?” she said like to let me know she didn’t care that I heard what she said to little snot-nosed
Turner.

“But mine didn’t fall out. It got knocked out.” Why was I acting like such a baby? Sometimes I know I’m being stupid but I
can’t help myself.

“If I recall, that tooth was already a little loose.” She was still smiling like she couldn’t tell I was seriously upset.

I started to walk away, but my homemade Kotex moved a little bit to the left. I decided to get what I came for.

“Mrs. Grier, I need something.”

“What’s wrong?” Her eyebrows went up and her face was interested and worried at the same time. She forgot about that Turnip
Green and his tooth.

I came up close to her desk and whispered. “I got my period today.”

“Already? Are you sure?”

“Yes’m,” I said. “It’s just like the book you gave me.”

“Do you have supplies?”

“No’m. I just used toilet tissue.”

“That was very resourceful,” she said, patting me on my head.

Mrs. Grier went into her cabinet and put some things into a paper bag. Then she took me by the hand and took me into the teacher’s
lounge. It smelled like cigarettes and coffee.

Mrs. Grier opened her sack and took out a cardboard box about the size of my palm but thick as my math book. Inside was a
Kotex folded in half.

“Do you know how to put it on?”

“Yes ma’am. From the book.”

She pointed to a small door that looked like a closet. “Go take care of yourself. I’ll be out here if you need me.”

When I came out of the little rest room, she said, “Any questions?”

“Am I ever going to get some titties?”

“Bosom,” she corrected.

“Am I ever going to get some bosoms?”

She looked at me like I was crazy, so I started over. “The book said you get bosoms first. But now I got my period.”

“You’ve
reached your maturity,
” she said. I guessed
period
must not be a nice word either. But I wished she would let me finish what I had to say and stop butting in.

“Well I reached my maturity without no bosoms; does that mean this is all I’m going to get?”

She looked at my chest and my little titties like the little humps on the top of an orange.

“Every woman is different,” she said. “I can’t say for sure, but you’ll probably get at least a little more.”

That didn’t sound like good news to me.

When I came out of the building, Delvis was leaning against a big white pole in front of the door. The paint had chipped off
and sat on the top of his hair like snowflakes.

“Hey!” I said. “You waiting for me?” I was trying not to act no different than normal. But soon as I said it I wanted to take
the words back. I should have said, “What you waiting out here for?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Where you been?”

“You got paint in your hair. On your clothes too.”

“Man,” he said, cleaning himself off with little slaps.

“Where the twins?”

“They went on with my cousin after you was taking so long.” He waited for me to say where I had been.

I walked straight as possible. “I had to stay after for Mrs. Grier to help me with my word problems.”

“Why you always going down to the second-grade room for? You too old for that.”

I looked at his whole face to see did he mean I was too old after what happened today or just too old anyway.

“What you got in that sack?” he asked, all nosy.

People said boys had ESP about girls and their periods. Demetria said they could take one look and one sniff and tell who
had their cycle. But if he could tell already, then why was he asking me so many stupid questions? I knew he didn’t want me
to come out and say what was in my bag. All the boys start freaking out if they just hear the word
Kotex.

“Mrs. Grier gave me some extra workbooks to practice.”

“Well she need to give them to you at lunchtime or something,” he said, kicking a pebble down the sidewalk. It got stuck in
a crack. “Had me sitting out here half the afternoon waiting on you.”

“Didn’t nobody tell you to wait.” This was true, but I was so glad to see him leaning on that pole with snowflakes in his
hair.

“My mama made me wait on you. And then you went and took so long that I’m going to miss
Happy Days
.” He tried to kick the rock but ended up ramming his toe on a piece of broken sidewalk sticking out. “Man!”

I didn’t say nothing. I just kept walking in little baby steps. I was worried about losing my Kotex. I didn’t trust that sticky
stuff to hold it on. Next time I was going to use safety pins.

Delvis was in a evil mood. “I don’t know why she wanted me to wait for you.”

I was surprised. “Because of—” I started but didn’t finish. I didn’t want to say
child murders.
Didn’t Delvis care that I made it home alive? “You know kids not supposed to be out walking alone,” I said.

“That’s just boys that got to worry about getting snatched, stupid,” he said.

“But what about them two girls?” I asked him. “Idiot,” I added, to make us even.

“They the exception that proves the rule,” he said, like he was God up in heaven and know everything.

“Says who?”

“My barber,” Delvis said. He did have a fresh haircut, but that didn’t mean he was right. And anyway, his part was cut in
crooked.

We walked a little more without talking. The wind had picked up and it was too cold to be running our mouths. My socks were
pulled all the way up to my knees but the air was turning my legs into chocolate Popsicles. It was getting to Delvis too because
he started moving faster. I kept on with my baby steps.

“Why you walking so slow?” Delvis asked. “It’s freezing out here, and
Happy Days
on too.”

“What your barber said?” I asked him to get his mind off my turtle walking.

“He say that it’s the boys they want. Because we going to get to be black men pretty soon and if it’s one thing the white
man scared of it’s a black man.”