Zora and Nicky: A Novel in Black and White (26 page)

“Nigger doesn’t know her place.”

“Grandpa! You’ve stretched my patience today. I’m going to ask you not
to call her that.”

He stands up. Raises his hand to me. “Boy, just because you got yourself
a taste of black tail—”

Now it’s time for me to stand, and when I do, something in me—something
I need, some restraining force—snaps, and I snatch my grandfather’s collar.
He doesn’t expect this—this sudden surge of violence, and neither do I. I see
the fear in his eyes, and I like it. I hope he sees the anger in mine.

“Listen, you filthy old—”

My father grabs me, pulls me away from the old man, but I lunge at him.
I want to fight him, and neither of them are a match for me.

“Nicholas, have you gone insane?” Dad yells.

I have. I want to snap my grandpa’s bony neck.

I start yelling back. “You don’t know her. You don’t know anything about
her. She’s not a piece of tail. She’s more than any of you can begin to think.
I’m
more.”

“Calm down, Nick,” my father says.

“Crazy nigger lover,” my grandfather says.

And I go after him again. I’m a lot stronger than my father. And just to
slow me down, my father sucker punches me. It wasn’t bad, either! Before the
end of the day I’m going to have to go to the emergency room.

I hear my mother scream.

“Call the police, Anne,” Dad says.

“I can’t call the police on my child.”

That’s when my grandfather does what he does. He gets his gun. My
grandpa is an expert marksman. He points it at me, right at my head, and for
a moment, I think he’s going to kill me. I can’t say that I’m not scared. But
I’m more than a little relieved. Part of me wants to go.

Mom is losing her mind. She’s screaming and crying like crazy, and the
only thing that keeps me from tearing the house down until he shoots me
dead is her tears and the thought that she doesn’t want to see me lying dead
on her parquet floors.

“I’m sorry, Mom.”

And for the first time in a long time, in forever, I hear her call my name
through her sobs. “Nicky.” She reaches her hands toward me, and I want to
go to her, but if I do, I’ll cry with her. I realize Grandpa isn’t going to kill me.
I’d be dead if he was.

If I go to my mom those men will mock me until the day they die.

I do what I have to do. I get out of there like hell on wheels before my
grandpa and my dad see me cry.

ZORA

The cab drops me off, and when I step up to the entrance, I see Miles
getting out of his BMW. I have no idea what he’s doing here, and in
true Miles fashion, he makes it to my house with absolutely nothing but
Miles.

“What are you doing here?”

“Where have you been in a cab?”

“I went to church. And to dinner.”

We walk up the stairs to my apartment, and I let us in the door with the
key I got the super to charge to next month’s rent.

“What church did you go to?”

“One where they don’t think I’m a witch.” They think I’m a nigger and a
whore. But who’s keeping track?

Oh, man. Stop it, Zora.

“Come on, Z. We love you at LLCC.”

“Yeah. I’m overwhelmed with it.”

“We’re all praying for you. We just don’t want you in rebellion. That’s the
sin of witchcraft. Don’t you understand that, baby? I want to protect you, and
I can’t do that if I’m aiding and abetting the problem.”

“What do you want, Miles?”

“I’m here because Pamela called me. She said you were walking the streets
at night.”

“Yeah, Miles. I’m a two dollar hooker now, trying to earn money to buy
stuff again.”

I lock the door even though there’s no reason to, and for lack of anything
else sit on the floor. Again.

“Pam said you needed to go to the store. I came to talk to you. Call your
father, Zora. This is crazy. You can’t be out walking around at night.”

“I wanted to do something to my hair. You may have noticed I don’t have
a car to jump in and go to the beauty supply store. You may have noticed I
don’t have much of anything, except for what a few kind souls, including Ms.
Pamela, have been good enough to share.”

“You have a Lexus.”

“Apparently I don’t.
He
has a Lexus.”

“Do you want to go to the store?”

“So you can aid and abet my sinful lifestyle? I don’t want you to dirty
your hands on the witch, Miles.”

He sits down on the floor with me. “I wish I knew what to do for you. I
feel like I’m stuck in the middle of this. I love you, Zora. I just want to hold
you and make all of this go away.”

I shoot a look at him. He almost looks sincere.

“Will you let me hold you, Zora?”

“Sorry. I’m not feeling the love, Miles.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not there. Come here. You’ve got to be so tired.”

He’s right. Nicky’s right. I’m exhausted.

And Miles says he wants to make all of this go away. It’s beginning
to sound like a good offer. He reminds me of my daddy in the good way
sometimes. I miss my daddy. I want a strong man to hold me. I do.

Something inside of me says yes. Make all of this go away.

“I’m so confused, Miles.”

He reaches out and strokes my hair. “Don’t confess that, baby. God isn’t
the author of confusion. You have to speak life into this situation.”

And he’s off. The moment seemed so hopeful. Does anybody challenge
this stuff at LLCC?

“But I am confused, Miles. My faith is raggedy at best. If God doesn’t
know that, I need a new heavenly Father.” A new earthly one sounds good,
too.

“Zora, baby, that’s not right to say.”

“Why is that wrong? God already knows I’m confused, so I really don’t
need another one, Miles. And I don’t feel right. Everything is wrong. If I’ve
got anybody’s sympathy, it’s God’s.”

He reaches for my hand, but I don’t want it. I want Nicky’s hand. Nicky
would say, “Me too” instead of “That’s not right.” And I’m angry at myself for
wanting Nicky’s lily-white hand instead of Miles’s.

I should want Miles. Miles is black and beautiful. Miles’s grandfather
is not going to call me an uppity nigger. Miles is a dreamboat. Miles is the
fantasy of every single woman at my church—and a few married ones. I’m
blessed to have him. And he’s still here. He’s mine despite the craziness of our
situation.

Just try with him, Zora. Maybe count this all as a really bad day.

“Miles. Did you know when you first came to LLCC, all us ladies had a
crush on you?”

He chuckles. “I knew a few of you were interested.”

“I was.”

“You didn’t let on.”

“Mac knew.”

“She never told me.”

“She’s my best friend. Why haven’t you kissed me?”

He lets out a big, boisterous laugh. “You really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“For real, Zora?”

“Yes, tell me.”

“Your father threatened everyone in youth group with bodily harm about
you.”

“You mean he really did that?”

“Baby, he told us …” He shudders. “Let’s just say, you will not be kissed
by an LLCC man who fears God.”

“That’s too bad. Because I need my man to kiss me right now.”

Miles looks around like somebody is in my apartment taping us so this
conversation will get back to Daddy and ruin his future. He actually looks
conflicted. Almost tempted.

“I’d like to kiss you, baby.”

The memory of Nicky’s kiss assaults me once again. I can’t stand it. I’m
not sure about this, but I say it. “Maybe you should.”

No. Please don’t. I don’t really want that.

But maybe if he kisses me I’ll stop thinking about Nicky’s kiss. Maybe I
can go on with my life and everything will be all right, eventually.

Oh, man. I’ve started something.

Miles leans over and cradles my face in his hand. I close my eyes and feel
his lips touch mine.

This is awful.

I want it to be like it was with Nicky. I want to feel the anger and outrage
and passion. I want to feel the fire of it. But there’s no fire.

There’s nothing but want of Nicky, Nicky, Nicky. Tears spring to my
eyes.

God, this is so not fair.

I push Miles away, gently, but it’s unmistakably a push away from me.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want
The Bishop
to hurt you.”

“I’m not going to worry about that now. Come here.” He takes me back
into his arms and finds my mouth again. This is terrible. It’s too! Too much.
Too wet. Too smushy. Too horrid. And he doesn’t taste good.

Okay, how do I get off this ride? I don’t really want to hurt his feelings
since I started the conversation that got this going, but this isn’t working out
for me.

I try to talk myself into it as he jams his tongue down my throat.
Ewwwww! This is really, really awful.

But maybe this bad feeling is better than all that good Nicky feeling.
Maybe I should just roll with this.

So, I do. We kiss and kiss and kiss until I’m nauseated. I think maybe he’s
getting sick from it too, because he asks me to lie down.

“Lie down? Why?”

“I want to make you feel good.”

That’d be an upgrade from how the kissing is making me feel.

“I want to feel good.”

I should be kissing Nicky.

I feel unbearably sad in Miles’s arms. My tears flow. Miles wipes them
away, but I’m afraid they won’t stop. Being around Nicky has opened a well
of grief that’s always been there. Then again, maybe it wasn’t Nicky opening it
at all. Maybe it was just time for all the cracks and fissures in the walls holding
me together to shatter and for me to break open and let all that misery inside
of me out. Right now.