God Don’t Like Ugly (23 page)

I
t was Rhoda’s idea for me to go make some tea. I left her in Mr. Boatwright’s room alone. There was some already made so all I had to do was reheat it. I guess I finished faster than she expected. When I returned to the bedroom I saw her on her knees with her head bowed, her hands cupped. She was praying! Nothing Rhoda did surprised me anymore. She had crossed a line, and I had crossed it with her. We could never turn back now. I admitted that I was feeling guilty about Mr. Boatwright’s murder, even though I had not actually done it myself or even been present when she did it. I was scared to death that we would either get caught or that Mr. Boatwright’s ghost would come back and haunt me. I had been sleeping with my lights on and my Bible under my pillow since his funeral.

I gasped and moved back to the steps and returned to the kitchen. I waited a few minutes, then went stomping back up the stairs making as much noise as I could. Rhoda was snatching stuff from the closet when I returned to the room.

We drank the tea in silence. All I could hear were our spoons clicking against our cups.

“You can go when you finish your tea,” I told her.

“I’ll stay until we finish,” she replied. “I have something to show you.” She removed a box from the closet with a brown folder. I opened it and saw a stack of newspaper clippings that were so old they had turned brown. “I’ve only read two of them. They are from some unheard-of Mississippi publication,” Rhoda told me. “I thought you should be here to read the others with me.” Just then the door slammed shut. We both whirled around at the same time. “What was that?” Rhoda asked.

“The wind?” I said, shaking.

“There was no wind,” Rhoda insisted.

I got up to open the door and looked out in the hallway. “See. Nobody’s out here. It
had
to be just the wind.”

“Yeah. It was the wind,” Rhoda agreed weakly.

I returned to the bed. I couldn’t tell which of us was shaking the hardest.

“Our minds are playing tricks on us, but we can’t freak out now,” I told her. “We’re in this thing too deep.”

“Yeah. Let’s read,” Rhoda said in a hollow voice. Her mood had softened considerably.

We put the clippings in chronological order, then we sat on the bed and began to read them one by one. After the first few sentences I forgot about the mysterious way the door slammed shut.

On the back of the first item was a girdle ad that took up more space. We read on.

We skipped over a few of the clippings that seemed to be repeating some of the incidents.

“Let’s read this one. This is many years later,” Rhoda said. Her voice cracked, but I pretended not to notice.

If the articles weren’t depressing enough, the unsophisticated journalism made them seem worse. “Those old time Southern redneck reporters sure have a shabby way with words,” I told Rhoda.

“Damn crackers. Probably some of my Caucasian relatives,” she spat.

“I can’t read any more,” I mumbled. I felt so bad for the way life had started out treating Mr. Boatwright. No matter what he had done to me, he was still a human being, and that made him one of God’s children. Just like me and Rhoda.

She skipped ahead anyway.

“Let’s read this last one. This one is dated only about twenty years ago from today.”

“OK, but after this one let’s burn them. We have enough to worry about,” I said, trying to sound firm.

“Yeah. Let’s put all this behind us,” Rhoda said seriously. “All this mess…”

We sighed and unfolded the last one we were going to read.

“I would say that the woman the fortune-teller predicted was your mama.” Rhoda put the last clipping we read back into the folder and slapped it shut.

“What a bum deal,” I sobbed, wiping my eyes and nose with the back of my hand.

“Too late to be cryin’ for him now, Annette.” Rhoda stood up and looked away, but not before I saw tears in her eyes. “I’ll get the rest of the stuff from the closet.” She went to the closet and pulled out the fake brown leg and burst into tears.

T
hree days went by and I didn’t hear from Rhoda and I didn’t call her. I had almost stopped calling up Florence. She was out with her boyfriend most of the time when I did.

“Things just ain’t the same since Brother Boatwright left us,” Muh’Dear said at breakfast one morning. He had been dead two weeks. Ironically, now that he was gone, she had cut her hours, and I saw more of her than I had in over ten years even though it meant she brought home less money. But there was still some of the insurance money from Mr. Boatwright’s policy that helped us a lot (as did Judge Lawson’s mysterious generosity). “We done lost us a good man.”

“I miss his cooking,” I said. I couldn’t think of anything else good to say about Mr. Boatwright. He was a good cook, and once upon a time he was a good man. “Muh’Dear, how much did you know about him?”

Muh’Dear gave me a sad, thoughtful look, then she smiled. “I knew he was the kind of man I wish I had met when I was a young girl. Except for that missin’ leg, the man was flawless, irreplaceable.”

“I mean about where he came from. Do you know anything about his background?” I held my breath and blinked hard, trying to figure out why Muh’Dear kept looking away.

“His mama died when he was a baby, and he never knew his daddy. His granny raised him. Then she died. He joined the army, where he got his leg blowed off. Then he traveled the world on a merchant ship for many years before he found Jesus, then us.”

“And you believed everything he told you?” I asked, pushing a piece of sausage around on my plate with my fork.

“Why wouldn’t I? Brother Boatwright was a righteous man that didn’t believe in lyin’. That man read the Bible every night before he went to bed.”

“He never married?”

“He was engaged when he went in the army. When he lost his leg, he lost the girl. He was too shy from then on to approach a woman.” Muh’Dear paused and laughed, then she cried. She stopped after a minute. “I had to approach him.”

“What do you mean?” My body tensed as I waited for her response. So far I didn’t like much of what I was hearing.

“I asked him to marry me after you finished school.”

“What did you say?” I almost choked on a piece of sausage. Muh’Dear reached over and patted me hard on the back.

“He was goin’ to marry me. Well, you old enough to know now. We was like man and wife anyway. That devil.” She cackled and shook her head. “He used to hop into my room just about every night after he thought you was sleep.”

“You mean…for sex? With you?”

Muh’Dear nodded. “He was so hurt when you got yourself in that mess with that boy.”

“I bet he was.” My body was on fire after hearing Muh’Dear’s confession, and I didn’t want to face her. I was not hungry anymore, and I wanted to leave the room, but my legs felt too heavy for me to move from the table.

“I wanted to send you to Florida to live with your Aunt Berneice I was so upset over you gettin’ yourself pregnant. The shame was so overwhelmin’. I’d die if the congregation found out. He talked me out of sendin’ you down South. He said wild as you was, you’d be pregnant again within a week down there.”

“I don’t think so. I was stupid for letting something like that happen to me. I knew better,” I muttered.

“The way you lit into old lady Jacobs when you was a little girl that time for hittin’ me with her cane, I never woulda thought you’d be the type of girl to let anybody take advantage of you,” Muh’Dear said with her eyes sparkling.

“I didn’t either.” I shrugged, looking toward the wall.

I
t was not easy, but I put Mr. Boatwright and what had happened to him out of my mind as much as I could. Graduation was a few weeks away, and we all had a lot of studying to do. One thing that was occupying most of the minds of the class of ’68 was the senior prom. Going to the prom was something girls in my position didn’t dare think about. So that’s why when I got asked to go, I almost swallowed the piece of chicken I was eating.

“What did you just ask me, Pee Wee?” I gasped into the phone. Muh’Dear was at work, of course, and Rhoda was shopping with her mother and Lola.

“I asked if I could escort you to the senior prom. This is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, you know,” Pee Wee said.

“Can I call you back?” I asked, barely able to breathe.

Pee Wee was silent for a moment.

“You gotta think about it, or somebody else asked you to go?” he asked.

“Um…no. I have to make sure it’s OK with my mama.”

“OK. Well let me know as soon as you can.”

It took me five minutes to compose myself after I got off the phone. Then I called Judge Lawson’s house to ask Muh’Dear if I could go to the prom.

“Judge Lawson’s residence,” she announced, answering on the second ring.

“Muh’Dear, it’s me,” I said with a shaky voice.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. I heard Judge Lawson in the background ask who was on the phone. “It’s Annette,” she told him. This was the first time I’d ever called her at Judge Lawson’s house since she’d started working for him.

“Can I go to the senior prom?” I said quickly, then held my breath.

“Can you what?” she choked out.

“I got asked to the prom. I’ll be out real late, and I’ll need a new dress. I just wanted to make sure it was OK with you before I accepted the invitation.” I couldn’t believe those words were coming out of my mouth.

“My girl got asked to the prom,” Muh’Dear said, talking to the judge. I heard him clap his hands and whistle. “Of course you can go, baby,” she said excitedly. There was some muffled sounds on her end for about a minute. “We’ll talk about it when I get home tonight,” she told me.

I had to compose myself again. I waited another five minutes before I called Pee Wee back. “Yes,” I told him, glad he couldn’t see my face and feel my excitement. I never thought I’d see the day I’d get excited over being asked out by Pee Wee.

“Cool. I’ll be over later tonight, or I will talk to you in study hall tomorrow,” Pee Wee said eagerly.

I couldn’t wait to tell Rhoda. I didn’t want to tell her over the phone, so I went to her house with my coat on over my housecoat. Uncle Johnny sent me upstairs to Rhoda’s room, where she was stretched out on her bed.

“Rhoda, guess what?” I closed the door with my foot and rushed over to her bed. “What’s the matter? You don’t look too good.” I sat down on the side of her bed.

“I’ll be OK…in about seven months,” she whispered, looking at her stomach.

My heart sank. She didn’t have to tell me, but I knew she was pregnant. I’d been expecting that to happen. Surprisingly, I was not as disgusted as I thought I would be. “Do you want me to come back later?” I asked.

“No, stay. What’s up?” she asked, struggling to sit up.

“You’re going to have a baby aren’t you?” I asked, saddened. Things were happening too fast for my weary brain. Mr. Boatwright was dead, I was about to graduate, Rhoda and Otis were getting married right after graduation, and now here she was pregnant. Not only would I have to share her with Otis, I’d have to share her with a baby. “Are you and Otis still going to the prom?”

“Of course!” She sat up straight and smiled broadly. “This’ll be my one and only time to go to one. I wish you were goin’ to be there,” she told me, patting my shoulder.

“That’s what I came to tell you. Pee Wee asked me to go with him.” I was in a fever. A grin I could not hold back took over my face.

Rhoda gasped, then let out a short laugh. “You’re kiddin’ me!”

“No, I’m not. He just called a little while ago. Muh’Dear said I could go, and I’m going to get a new dress.” I couldn’t stop grinning. Just then Mrs. Nelson entered the room with a cup of tea for Rhoda.

“Muh’Dear, Annette’s goin’ to the prom, too,” Rhoda told her mother, reaching for her cup.

Mrs. Nelson stood back and folded her arms. “Well isn’t that nice! I hope you both have as much fun at your prom as I had at mine.” Rhoda perked up immediately and decided that Pee Wee and I would ride with her and Otis. I thought I would faint when Mrs. Nelson told me she was sending me to Miss Rachel’s to get my hair done. This was another night I didn’t sleep at all.

The next few days were the most hectic of my life. Judge Lawson let Muh’Dear take another day off with pay so she could take me shopping for my prom dress. I wanted to buy the first one I saw at one of the cheap downtown dress stores, but Muh’Dear didn’t like it. It was blue chiffon with lace across the top. “We could find somethin’ much nicer at the shoppin’ center where Rhoda got her dress,” Muh’Dear insisted. “We can’t afford those stores,” I reminded her. “Um…this is a special occasion. We’ll figure out a way to afford one,” Muh’Dear assured me.

I didn’t ask Muh’Dear where the money came from for the expensive blue chiffon I picked out at Stacy’s, the same shop where Rhoda got her pale pink chiffon.

I had been doing my own hair since the age of thirteen. Cheap perm kits, straightening combs that were too hot, and not enough general care had damaged my hair badly. The prim and impeccably groomed Miss Rachel had a time bringing it back to life. “You’ve got nice thick hair. You should take better care of it,” she told me. I felt like a princess sitting in the most exclusive Black beauty parlor in town right along with some of the other Black girls preparing for the prom. I knew that things were going too smoothly. So when Lena Cundiff, the bully Rhoda had pushed into a toilet in the eighth grade, entered Miss Rachel’s salon to get her hair done I wasn’t surprised. “What the hell are
you
doin’ in here, Bertha Butt?” she barked at me. Two of her equally loathsome girlfriends were with her, and they all snickered. Over the years, I had had several more minor run-ins with Lena since the toilet incident. I knew her schedule, so I was usually able to avoid her a lot the last couple months of school. “I came to get my hair done for the prom,” I announced proudly, walking away before she could hurl another insult my way.

Judge Lawson brought Muh’Dear home early the evening of the prom so she could help me get ready. My understanding was, Pee Wee and I would ride with Rhoda and Otis in his car. I was shocked when an hour before we were to leave from my house, a black stretch limousine, compliments of Judge Lawson, stopped in front of our house. We took a dozen pictures at Rhoda’s house and then a dozen at mine. I had never seen Muh’Dear look so happy when she hugged me, and said, “See, I told you if you was good to God, God’d be good to you.” She stood on the porch with Judge Lawson and Caleb waving until the limo turned the corner.

The auditorium looked spectacular. Shiny silver stars of various sizes hung by pastel-colored crepe ribbons from the ceiling. The tables had silver tablecloths with a large dark blue star in the center of each one. A band that played both soul music and soft rock entertained. One of my favorite soft rock tunes was playing, “I Want to Make It with You” by Bread. As soon as we sat down at our table near the bandstand, I spotted Lena standing nearby with a few of her vicious girlfriends. As lovely as they all looked in their beautiful dresses and nicely done hairdos, there was an ugliness about them. Their stares were so cold I wish I had worn the shawl Lola had offered me.

Muh’Dear had warned me and Rhoda not to drink any alcohol, but Otis and Pee Wee started drinking from flasks they had smuggled in right away.

I had never attended a dance before and didn’t know if I had any rhythm or not. But I surprised myself when I got on the floor with Pee Wee to jump around like everybody else to the Motown tune “Do You Love Me?” The first hour went fine. I got up and mingled. Kids who had never acknowledged me before smiled, hugged me, and wished me well. A few asked what my plans were. “I’m thinking about leaving Ohio,” I told Charlotte Harper, a girl who used to sit behind me in junior math class. Before she could respond, Lena Cundiff bumped into me from behind with so much force I fell against Charlotte, almost knocking her down. “That’s what happens when they allow cows in here,” Lena said in a loud, drunken voice. Everybody around us heard the snickering coming from her and her friends. Rhoda witnessed the incident and came to stand next to me.

“You want me to take care of that?” she asked.

“No, I’m OK.” I wanted to say more, but I didn’t know what. The eighth grade locker room was a long way from the senior prom scene. “In a couple of weeks I’ll never have to deal with Lena Cundiff again,” I told Rhoda, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Unfortunately, there are a lot of Lenas out in the real world,” Rhoda observed. I returned to our table with her for a few minutes before we went around the room hugging our favorite teachers.

As much fun as I was having, I was glad when it was getting close to time to leave. Right in the middle of the four of us at our table making a toast, I was bumped into from behind again. Lena glared at me and deliberately spilled her punch over the top and lap of my dress. “You bitch!” Rhoda hissed, starting to rise; Otis grabbed her by the arm and forced her back into her seat.

“Lena, why don’t you get a life,” Pee Wee yelled.

“Why don’t you get a real woman and not a bull,” Lena taunted, cackling. Two girls near me handed me napkins to sponge punch off my dress. I was glad none of the teachers witnessed the incident. The last thing I wanted to risk was a confrontation this close to graduation.

“Let’s get out of here,” Rhoda said, rising. Otis held on to her arm as he led her toward the exit. Pee Wee, more than a little drunk, walked along next to me, cussing under his breath over what Lena had done to me.

The night air was cool. With that huge wet stain on the front of my dress, I was feeling pretty chilly and started to shiver. Pee Wee took off his tuxedo jacket and was about to drape it around my shoulders when I held up my hand. “Just a minute,” I told him.

“Where are you goin’?” Rhoda asked. We were several yards away from our limo. In the opposite direction near the side of the school building stood Lena with several of her male and female friends. Rhoda, Otis, and Pee Wee followed as I took my time walking up to Lena.

“Lena, this is for
everything,”
I said calmly. Nobody said a word. I closed my eyes for a second and pretended that Lena was Mrs. Jacobs, the mean woman in Florida who had beaten Muh’Dear with her cane. My fist connected with her mouth with so much force she stumbled backward past two other limos before falling to the ground out cold, leaving several of her teeth on the ground next to my feet. I turned to my friends. Pee Wee and Otis were grinning. Rhoda’s mouth was hanging open, and she was clutching her chest. “Let’s get out of here,” I said evenly, forcing myself not to smile.

Rhoda hugged me as soon as we got into the limo, “Attagirl!” she yelled. Our dates slapped five with me until my palms hurt. All the way home, the conversation revolved around my well-aimed fist. “I’ll talk to you in the mornin’,” Rhoda told me. Otis went in with Rhoda, I thanked Pee Wee, and he went into his house next door, then I went in. Muh’Dear was on the couch waiting for me.

The only light on in the house was a small lamp on an end table in the living room. That and the fact that Muh’Dear was so groggy prevented her from seeing the ugly stain on my dress as I stood over her and told her what a great time we had had.

My last two weeks of high school were the most pleasant days out of the whole thirteen years I’d been going to school. All because I’d finally stood up for myself. Kids who had never said ‘hi’ to me before smiled and spoke to me. In the last three of our gym classes, the ball team leaders all but fought to choose me to play on their sides. I was not impressed when a good-looking boy who had stared at me at the prom asked in the cafeteria a few days later if I had a boyfriend. To avoid complications, I told him yes. Lena didn’t return to school after the prom, and, according to the grapevine, it was because of her four missing front teeth. I thought about her receiving her diploma through the mail when I marched across the stage in my cap and gown to receive mine.

“If only Brother Boatwright had lived to see this day,” Muh’Dear sobbed afterward on the way home from the graduation ceremonies in Judge Lawson’s car.

The night I graduated was another sleepless night for me. I sat up wondering what I was going to do with myself from that point on.

Rhoda and Otis were married in her parents’ living room three weeks after our graduation.

Moline, Lola’s grandkids, and the twins came from Alabama again, in addition to some relatives on Rhoda’s mother’s side from New Orleans as well as the usual neighborhood crowd.

Jock came home for Rhoda’s wedding but was scheduled to go to Vietnam in a few days, so Mrs. Nelson paid him more attention than she did Rhoda.

“Don’t you worry none, Annette. Somewhere in this universe there’s a man that’s goin’ to marry you,” Caleb told me during the reception, patting my arm.

I smiled sadly and thanked him.

It was getting late, and people had started to leave. I had not had a chance to talk to Rhoda privately.

I finally got to do so when she summoned me to her dollhouse.

“I don’t know when I’ll see you again. We’re leavin’ tomorrow night, and we’ll be real busy ’til then,” Rhoda told me. Her daddy was sending her and Otis to Jamaica for two weeks, where they would combine their honeymoon with a visit to some of his relatives. From there they would move to their own house near Miami.

“I am going to miss you so much.” I cried and smiled at the same time.

“I’ll only be a phone call away,” she said, looking at me, then squeezing me real tight. Then her body suddenly tensed, and I heard her suck in her breath. “Um…you won’t forget to keep our secret will you?”