Billy (6 page)

Good Jesus, Lord hav
e
m
e
rcy, J
e
su
s
.
"

A cold Mis
s
issippi ni
g
ht
c
an b
e
a
s
lo
w
ni
g
ht
,
fi
res
bu rn long into the hours. Th
e
da
r
k wind
s
ha
ve ca
rri
e
d
C
ind
er's

ll I Albert French

screams and
cries.
A
softer
cry has
come,
it too
cries
into the night as it cuddles on its mother's breast.
Cinder
has stilled herself, feels the warmth of her child on her breast. Her eyes are open, starin
at
this
child,
this part of her that's hers, will be of her ways. She
can
feel it and wants the warmth of its breathin on her breast. She sees no difference between the child and herself. The other women are
smiling.
Katey has given thanks to her Jesus. A gleeful
voice
ask, "What
ya
callin him?" Cinder's eyes are on the
child, she
is
silent,
then answers softly,
"I'm
gonna
call
him Billy Lee."

The night is
gone.

Days came, same days, same hot
suns and
dusty roads. Same nights came again too, hot nights
with
folks hollerin and carryin on. But Otis was gone. He had
come
to
Cinder,
whispered to her, took her
down in
that
deep grass by
the Catfish, whispered to her
soft whispers
like the
cool
breeze
comin
from
the
Catfish,
"Ya
my
woman, the only woman
there ever be for me, Ah need
ya,
need
ya wit
me.
Ah
love
ya,
Cin der, love
everything abou t ya.
This here
place ain't
right
for
ya and me, gots ta
gits someplace better, be someplace where
th
ey ain't got
no
pickin fields, someplace where they gots
streetcars
and pict ure shows, pretty dresses for ya. A in't
nothin down here
for
us.
Ya
too
pret ty for this old
ugly place."

Otis had
a strong
look,
but
his
look would weaken,
his
eyes
would
st ill.
He
could n't
ta ke
his eyes from Cinder's. couldn't
stop his mi nd
from
think i n
about
her, takin
her wherever
he was, takin her
far away. "Ah
love
ya, Cinder.
A h
gain
ta
Chi cago
and
gits me one of
them
good-mone
y
jobs, gits
me
one
of them shiny
cars, then A h comi n
back here
and gits ya and
takes ya away from here."

Ot is wouldn't
go
to
church,
wouldn't
stay
i n t hem
pickin

B J L L Y
I
9

fields at all. He'd fight just as quick as lightnin flash, had that wild-dog temper. Fight them Patch boys all the time
.
Went after one of them Saturday-night white boys one time
,
had Sheriff Tom comin down the Patch after him.

Otis was Sebella Owens' boy, but she could not do anythi ng with him after his daddy died. His daddy would take him out behind one of them sheds and take a whippin stick to him, try and beat some of that temper out the boy, but folks sa
y
, after a while, Otis wouldn't even yell. Whippin just made him meaner. Sometimes you could feel him comin, didn't have to see him, could feel them eyes peerin at you, could see that tall slender body with that buckeye-brown shiny skin before you even turned around and made sure it was him. Otis could look you hard, had them kind of eyes that could make them rollin-dice stop on the dots, he wanted them to. Had them good looks and them quick ways, but that mad-dog temper got loose sometimes. Otis almost cut the life out that Elmer Brown, cut that boy up real bad just over talk. Otis left in the night, folks sorta figure he got on one of them night-rollin trains, probably to Chicago or Saint Louie, figure he ain't never comin back, but Cinder waits with Billy Lee
.

Cinder took to herself even more after Billy Lee was born
,
kept that baby close to her all of the time, wouldn't let no body touch him cept Katey. She knew the whispers and the talk, knew them porch-sitters were sayin things, porch-talkin about Otis. "That boy ain't never
c
omin back for that girl. Leavin her wit that baby and no man ta care for em. Ain't right. Ah knew all along that Otis Owens up ta no good. H
e
ain't comin back her
e
. Wit them ways he gots, somebod
y
done cut him ta death already."

Some days Cinder would just stand on that por
c
h, l
e
an against that porch post,
s
tar
e
wi th those e
yes
of hers, ju
s
t b
e

10 I A
lb
e
rt Fr
e
11
c
h

lookin far beyond where the sun drops, far past where her world ended, where thoughts could go no further, trains and folks disappear, bu t thoughts come smashi
n
g back.
In
the
eves,
Cinder would have that baby in her arms, ease
h
er
way
through the
chatter of
porch
-
s
i
tters, take her own paths she knows in the dark, sit in that
t
all grass down by
t
he Catfish wit that child in her lap, look down in his eyes, smile at him, take her hand and touch his face. Cinder is whisperin now, her words flow
slow
and soft like the waters of the Catfish.

"Just
look at
you.
Look how
pretty you
are. You're mama's pretty baby, ain't
you? You gonna
be big
and strong
just like
your
daddy, ain't
you?
Look at
you, got
yo
ur daddy's
eyes,
don't
you?
You like it
down
here
,
just
with
me. I
know, Mama
knows, all them folks up there make too much fuss
for you,
but Mama
goin
to keep her bab
y
away from
them, Mama
goin
to keep her
baby
happ
y,
goin
to
love her
baby. It's
just
you
and me, Billy, then
you
r
daddy goin
to
come
down that
old
Patch
road one
day,
he gonna
have
one of them big cars, he
goin to
come and get us,
take us
back
to
Chicago, take
us away
from
h
e
r
e,
fu rth
e
r t han t rains
ca
n
go.
Th
e
n i t'
s goi
n' to be just me,
you, and Daddy. We goin'
to hav
e a
pretty
hou
se.
gonna
have
a pretty
ya
rd
wi th a garden. have
some
pretl
'
flowers too,
red ones,
ye
llow
ones. Mama loves you. l\tama
loves her Billy.
"

Cinder still watched for Ot is and the days kept
goi
n
b
y.

then the
years
came
and
th
ey
too w
e
n t
by.
Billy Le
e
grew,
was
walki n
and
want in
to ru n.
s
tarted
show
in
so
me
of
hi
s
daddy's ways, u nt il
the Mississi ppi
ni
gh
t
s
came,
then h
e
come
to
Cinder, curl
under her warmth i n th
e
stills and
ch
ill
s
of the night
s.

B I L L Y
I
11

Patch folks watched Cinder wait, then slowly turn with the time that no longer cared who waited on it. Cinder sta1ied goin down LeRoy's place, sippin on some of that corn liquor he made down there, then, if she felt like it, she'd dance.
If
she danced, she glowed like fire i n the dark, curled into th
e
desires of field men, then vanished into the night.

Ten years came, ten long slow times. Things ain't looked no different, Patch Road still dusty, Patch shacks still ther
e,
maybe leanin a little more. Things were no different, couldn't tell if they were, just like another wrinkle line on some old face, couldn't tell it from the other lines time left. Cinder still looked up the road sometime, still hoped Otis was comin, but it was only hope she seem to need, not Otis. Billy Lee wa
s
showin more of his father's ways. He was growin slender, but had that fast walk and fast moves. His quick ways seemed to give him some strength, add muscle to his slenderness. He was rnnnin around the Patch with the rest of those Patch boys, gettin into this and that, sneakin off too. Had that bad temper like his daddy, Katey couldn't do anything with him. Only Cinder could make him mind.

It was Saturday morning, August
21, 1937.
Cinder had taken the time well, it had only polished her beauty. She sit
s
on the porch steps, turns slowly as she hears the patter of quick-runnin feet behind her. She sees the blur of her son a
s
he passes quickly into the dirt yard. "Billy Lee," she whis pers once. Billy stops, turns to her, and comes.

"Where you goin? You eat everything on
y
our plate?" Cin der asks softly and watches Billy's eyes a
s
she waits for him to answer her.

"Mama, Mama, me and Gumpy just goin down bys th
e
Cat fish. Gumpy say some big old cats just layin wh
e
r
es
that bi
g

12 I A
l
bert French

trees fall ins. He say he
seen
em. He say they bigger than the ones Mister Moody gits. Gumpy says he
seen
em. Me and Gumpy goin ta . . .
"

Cinder speaks, Billy hushes. "You and Gumpy stay on this
side
of the Catfish, don't be over in town pickin at things. You
stay
near, you hear. Come here. You wash your face? Come here, let me see you."

Billy moves closer to his mother, her hand gently touches his face. She looks into his eyes and sees them twitchin. She
says
again, "Billy Lee, you stay
on
this side of the Catfish, and you be back here for suppertime." Cinder watches Billy run down through the weavin paths,
she
can still see him leapin over yard junk, and now he's gone.

"Hey,
Gumpy. Hey, Gumpy. Hey, Gumpy," Billy is callin. Gumpy is comin down through his shack's path and sayin with short quick breaths, "Billy, what taki n
ya so
long? Ah been waitin."

"Ah
ain't takes no time, what's
ya
talkin about? Ah hads ta
eat.
Come on, let's
go,"
Billy yells over his
shoulder
and
darts
further down the Patch path. Gumpy follows.

Gumpy
could
never
catch
Billy, never
outrun
him,
even
though Gumpy was the oldest of the two,
bigger
too.
Gumpy could
beat Billy u p if he
got
real mad, he
could
get Billy down and keep him down, and he did
a few
times, fightin over a good
wood stick.
or that broken lantern they found by the tracks. But most
of
the time
Gumpy would
baC" k
off
from Billy, it was better to let Billy be, bet ter not lo fight him
al
all, feel his Leeth bi
ti n
in
your skin, feel
his fingers diggin into your
eyes.
Even
when
the fights were
over,
they weren·l for Billy Lee. His burnin
stares
haunt
you,
make
you
feel
you
ha ve a water
snake
next to
you. Sometime
Billy would
get
that li ttle foldin k nife out, t hat little foldin knife he
stole off