Coffee Will Make You Black (25 page)

“Wow.”

“The white man in the South is different from the white man in the North,” Grandma continued. “In the South, a black person better not get too big, and in the North, a black person better not get too close.”

“How's that, Grandma?”

“Kathy Jo's mother thought nothing of throwing her in the bed between me and my sister if she wanted my mother to keep Kathy Jo on a Saturday night. White folk in the South don't mind getting close to you as long as it's clear who works for who. White folk in the North don't care how big your house is, so long as you're not their neighbor.”

“So, Grandma, did you trust Kathy Jo? Tell me what happened.”

“Start mashing these sweet potatoes and I will.”

Grandma handed me the masher. I started squishing and she sat down in a kitchen chair and started telling.

“It was Kathy Jo's tenth birthday and she was having a big party. It was all she talked about. For some reason I forgot that I was colored and thought that I would be invited. I dreamed about playing Pin the Tail on the Donkey and Musical Chairs and eating hot dogs and ice cream and chocolate cake. I bragged to my sisters and brothers that I was going to the party. Mama tried to warn me, but I wouldn't pay her any mind.”

“Grandma, did you get an invitation?”

“Of course not,” Grandma said. She stretched her legs out and I noticed her ankles were swollen again. Grandma had on a pair of Uncle Franklin's old house slippers. They kept her corns from acting up.

“I figured I ain't needed an invitation,” Grandma explained. “Me and Kathy Jo was still sleeping together in the same bed sometimes. Well suh, my mother didn't ask Miss Mary if I could attend the party. She just let me put on my Sunday dress and go sashaying in there like I was rich and white, carrying my present. I'd made Kathy Jo a kite. She was nothing but a tomboy. The little white children looked at me like I was the boogey man, including Kathy Jo. Miss Mary turned beet red.”

“What did you do?”

“I handed Kathy Jo the kite and asked her where she wanted me to sit. She took my present and told me to sit in the kitchen and they would call me if they needed anything.”

“No, she didn't, Grandma.”

“Yes, she did, chile. I looked into Kathy Jo's eyes and they were cold as blue ice.”

“What did you do, Grandma?”

“I took back my kite and I took back my friendship.”

“What Kathy Jo did was really cold, Grandma.”

“I've never trusted a white person since. Oh, I might smile and act cordial, but I never let them touch the real me,” Grandma said, pointing to her chest.

Grandma stood up and started adding eggs and sugar to the mashed sweet potatoes.

“So, Grandma, you think only a fool would try to be friends with a white woman, huh?”

Grandma laughed. “Chile, the only black women and white women who can be friends are hookers and bulldaggers.”

“Bulldaggers?” I swallowed.

“Yes baby, bulldaggers, you know, funnies … lesbians.”

“Lesbians.” The word sent chills down my spine. I pretended to be cheerful as I poured the rich, orange mixture into the little tins covered with crust. But I felt scared and alone in the small kitchen with Grandma.

On Saturday, Mama decided to bake a pound cake for no reason. She was just in the mood. I was busy scraping the bowl with my finger.

“Mama, you want me to wake up Kevin and David so they can lick the beaters?”

“Jean, haven't you heard, let sleeping dogs lie?”

“Mama, are you calling Kevin and David dogs?”

“Just an expression. It's such a nice, quiet morning. The fewer people disturbing the peace, the better.”

“I'll put the beaters aside for them, for when they wake up.”

“That's a good sister.”

I decided to take advantage of this time alone with Mama. I couldn't believe that I was sixteen and a half and still coming to her. But I knew that I was desperate for answers.

“Mama, me and Sean were arguing about homosexuality,” I lied.

Mama looked surprised. She liked Sean. He was polite and intelligent, he came from a two-parent family, and he even had a decent grade of hair.

“Sean says they're sick and I say they're sinners. Who's right, Mama?”

Mama's face relaxed. She was probably glad that I was asking her to give the last word on a subject.

“Well, Jean Eloise, actually you're both right, they're sick sinners.”

“Oh,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment. I'd hoped that Mama might shed a little more light on the subject.

Mama shook her head as she set the cake in the oven.

“They're to be pitied. Every time I look at the ones in the choir, I say to myself, ‘What a waste of husband material.'”

“So Mama, what about the women?” I tried to sound casual as I carried the bowl over to the sink.

“They're pathetic creatures, too. Remember Mrs. Huff who used to do my hair before she retired?”

I nodded.

“Her daughter Shirley is one, lived with her girlfriend right in her mama's basement. This close to where Mrs. Huff did hair,” Mama said, holding her thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. “Shirley would come in demanding her dinner, just like a man.”

“Mama, was Shirley like the husband?”

“Yes, and Cynthia was the wife.”

“Does one always have to be the man?”

“Whenever you see a couple, it's like that: one plays the man and the other plays the woman.”

I was confused. “Why didn't Cynthia just get a real man, if that's all she wanted?”

“That's why they call them queer, they don't do what a normal person would do.”

“Mama, do you think Shirley and Cynthia were happy?”

Mama shook her head. “Women like that can never be happy. They live sad, lonely, tormented lives.”

“Oh,” I swallowed. My hands shook as I rinsed out the measuring cup.

“And on top of that, they're doomed to hellfire and eternal damnation,” Mama said quietly as she opened the oven door to check on her cake.

Monday afternoon, I was in Nurse Horn's office, alphabetizing a stack of cards.

“Stevie, you sure are quiet today,” Nurse Horn said, looking up from her desk. I ignored her comment, continuing to work.

“Are you feeling all right?”

“Nurse Horn, my grandmother says a black woman and a white woman can't really be friends.”

Nurse Horn cleared her throat. “Well, I happen to disagree with your grandmother. One of my closest friends is a black woman.” I knew she couldn't be talking about Mrs. Stuart. “We met in nursing school,” she continued.

“Is she a prostitute?”

“A prostitute? Are you kidding? She's one of the best nurses at Michael Reese Hospital. Whatever gave you the idea that Allison might be a prostitute?”

“My grandmother said the only white women and black women who can be friends are prostitutes and … funnies.”

“Funnies?”

“You know, homosexuals.”

“Your grandmother is wrong, in my opinion. I know that it's not easy because this society is so … segregated. But I want you to know that it
is
possible for black women and white women to be friends in spite of that.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “My grandmother's from a different time.”

“Well, tell your grandmother the times they are a-changin'.”

“Okay.” I smiled. “I'm through with these cards. You want me to finish grading the health quizzes?”

“Good. Yes, look in my briefcase and pull them out.”

I stuck my hand in Nurse Horn's open briefcase and grabbed the stack of yellow papers. I picked up the
Chicago Sun Times
and was about to ask Nurse Horn if I could read Ann Landers, when I saw it: a paperback book with two women in long dresses reaching for each other on the cover! The title of the book was
A Place for Us
. I flipped it over. “They lived together—in a world apart,” it said on the back. I wasn't stupid. A chill ran through my body.

“Stevie, did you find them?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, use the top sheet as the key like you did before.”

I stood staring at the book. My stomach started hurting. Nurse Horn had lied to me. I stuck the book back under the newspaper.

“I've decided to go ahead and do it with Sean,” I announced. “Just get it over with.”

“Get it over with? Sounds about as romantic as a dose of castor oil, if you ask me.”

“I didn't ask you.”

“I beg your pardon.”

I faced Nurse Horn. She looked hurt. “Of course you would be against it. 'Cause you just want me to end up a freak … like you!”

Nurse Horn just sat there with her eyebrows arched. I started grabbing my stuff together. I couldn't face her.

“Stevie, what brought that on?”

“That book of yours, that's what!” I said, and rushed out of the office.

chapter 23

Tonight was the night! After I did it with Sean there would be no doubt in anyone's mind that I was normal. When I had told Sean I was ready to go all the way, he'd seemed almost as happy as Carla had been to hear the news. Sean had smiled from ear to ear, but Carla had picked up her pompoms and shouted, “Two, four, six, eight, Stevie's doing it, before it's too late!”

I had just taken a long luxurious bath with Joy dish soap and rubbed Jergens lotion all over my body. I reached for my favorite jeans. I had on my lacy new bra and my best panties. I had told Mama that we were going to Old Town, over on the North Side, to look in the stores and get something to eat.

We were lucky. Sean's oldest brother, Walter, wanted to help him out. He'd offered the use of his pad, a one-bedroom apartment on the North Side in Belmont Harbor, four blocks from the Lake. Walter worked with computers, so he was doing well. I was happy I wouldn't be giving it up in a cheap motel or the back seat of a car. We were going to do it in style.

I couldn't help but feel grown-up as Sean and I entered the high-rise apartment building. I was a little disappointed that there was no doorman like on the TV show
Family Affair
. But the building was still nice. Sean had told me that Walter paid $175 a month rent!

I felt proud to be with Sean, he was so cute in his leather coat. His turquoise knit top looked good next to his bronze skin. I could smell his father's Old Spice on him. I leaned my head against Sean's chest while we waited for the elevator. He put his arm around me. A middle-aged white couple stood nearby, glaring at us. I wondered if they knew what we were up to. The four of us rode up in silence. I tried not to let the couple's icy stares make me feel like we didn't belong.

“Da daaah,” Sean said as he swung the door open.

“It's nice,” I said, appreciating the cranberry shag carpet, the off-white furniture without plastic coverings, and the African masks.

“Brenda decorated it, that's Walt's fiancée. She probably cleaned up the place too.”

Sean walked over and turned on the stereo.

I kissed Sean's sweet lips. He pressed back and sucked in my tongue.

Sean lit the candles and we sat down on the couch and kissed some more. Barry White was singing on the stereo.

“Baby, you ready to get down?”

I didn't know how to answer. I knew that I was supposed to be excited, but what was so exciting about having something pushed inside a hole? Especially if the hole was in your body. And I felt nervous about Sean expecting to fit his dick where I sometimes had trouble sticking a junior tampon.

“Sean, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared.”

“Stevie, it's natural for a girl to be scared the first time. Here, drink your wine.”

I took the glass.

“Don't worry, baby,” Sean continued. “I'll steer the ship. This is your captain speaking.” He clinked his wine glass against mine. Why rock the boat? I swallowed the red wine.

We were on Walter's king-size bed. Sean was lying on top of me and I could feel his thing, hard against my thigh through our clothes. I'd drunk half a glass of wine for the first time in my life. It had helped. I felt dizzy.

I lay still, holding my breath, while Sean rubbed his hands up and down my body. I let him undress me. I helped Sean with the hooks on my bra. He began sucking my breasts, which I liked. Sean unzipped his pants and took his thing out and started rubbing it against the inside of my thigh. I could've enjoyed it if I hadn't known what it was leading up to. But I reminded myself that I didn't have to enjoy it, I just had to get through it.

“Baby, you starting to get wet.”

I felt embarrassed by the comment, but I couldn't deny the juicy noises my pussy was making as Sean's dick rubbed against it.

“Don't forget the rubber, Sean.”

“Coming right up.” Sean searched for his pants in the dim light.

I held my breath while Sean tried to push his thing inside me. I was reminded of Jesus saying it would be easier to get a camel hump through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. But I was determined to hang in there. I'd survived being at the dentist before, I could survive this, I told myself.

My body felt like it was being split in two! Had Sean forgotten I was a virgin? I knew that I had made a mistake. I really wasn't ready. It wasn't worth this amount of pain, just to have a boyfriend. And how long was this going to last? I couldn't take it anymore!

“Sean! Sean!”

“Yeah, baby, I knew you'd be calling out my name.”

“Sean, stop!”

“Baby, I'm not finished yet.”

“Well, I am!”

“Did you come?”

“What? Sean, just get out of me! You're hurting me!”

Sean pulled his dick out.

“Stevie, I was halfway to heaven.”

“Well, I was in hell.”