Home In The Morning (16 page)

That morning, Jackson lay in bed past nine o’clock, trying to determine what would be a genteel hour to appear in the kitchen of a weekend. Every other day that week, Katherine Marie was dressed and fixing breakfast by the time he went downstairs, but he figured on Saturday she might want to sleep in. He waited until the scent of Daddy’s coffee wafted up the stairs before he got washed, dressed, and descended.

Only she wasn’t in the kitchen, although everything there was in spotless order. A coffeepot steamed over a shut-off burner on the stovetop. Waxed paper was crimped over a china plate of sweet rolls sitting on the counter next to, but there was no Katherine Marie. He stood outside the hallway powder room for twenty seconds, listening to see if she was perhaps within, but it was quiet as a sealed-up tomb. He stuck his head down the cellar door and said her name in case she’d gone down there for canned goods or some kind of cleaning supplies. Katherine Marie! he called, distinctly though not loudly, as he didn’t want to wake everybody else up. She wasn’t there, either.

Then Bubba Ray bounced down the stairs in his pajamas, grabbed a sweet roll in each hand, and remarked: Boo-hoo-dee-hoo-hoo. Miss
Jackie’s got her heart broke. Li’l Bokay came a while back and took your lady love away. For her weekend home. Oh yes, they gonna be humpin’ and gruntin’ all weekend long. Poor Miss Jackie’s gonna be all forlorn.

Jackson grabbed a broom and raised it to chase the brat out of the room then collapsed into a chair while four facts of life struck him one after the other like blows to the face.

Number one. He was hopelessly in love with Katherine Marie. She was like no girl he’d ever known, probably because she wasn’t a girl. She was a woman. And he wanted her, like he’d never wanted anyone ever before. Number two. She was a Negro, a fact of life he could get over in a heartbeat given the strength of his desire. Didn’t he hear that preacher on the radio the other day? Saying it was a new day in a new South? And if that day had only recently dawned and promised to be a very long and stormy one indeed, wasn’t he moving North in a handful of months anyway? There, he surmised from the way Yankee newspapers, politicians, and social organizations pressured and castigated the South daily on matters of race, Negroes and whites mated every day of the week without raising the hackles of anyone at all. There remained, however, number three. Katherine Marie was a betrothed Negro woman with no romantic interest in him whatsoever, which pretty much took care of number two, although maybe somehow he could get her to change her mind. That left the worst fact of life, the most depressing one, the one a bit scary as well. That left number four.

Bubba Ray wasn’t as dumb as he looked. Bubba Ray had him figured out.

Fall 1959, Summer 1960

A
FTER HE MADE THE MOST
discreet, the most casual of inquiries, Jackson learned from Daddy that Katherine Marie was due to return to work at six a.m. on Monday morning. On Monday, he was up chewing his fingernails in the kitchen by five thirty, full of anxiety that Mama had been too hard on her, and after a long conversation with her fiancé, she’d quit. To cover, he pretended to do last-minute studying at the kitchen table, cleverly choosing a seat that faced the back door. It was warm enough to keep the door open, so he could watch and listen through the screen for L’il Bokay’s truck. When that ancient vehicle arrived, full of clatter and sputtering smoke, Jackson jumped up from his chair and stood by the window above the sink, watching Katherine Marie kiss her man good-bye. She kissed him once lightly, but after she’d opened the truck door a smidgen, he pulled her back in with one rough hand on her slender arm and kissed her hard and long, which caused Jackson the pain of a thousand straight pins jabbed into his heart at once.

Well, that sure is an unseemly sight.

At the sound of his daddy’s voice, Jackson whirled about. Luckily, the doctor was too preoccupied watching the lovers neck to notice Jackson’s agonized expression, which the boy masked as best he could.

I’ll have to have Mama instruct that gal in proper behavior on our street. This ain’t the village.

Daddy, they’re engaged.

I don’t care, son. It just ain’t right.

I’ve seen Willy Bowers drop off Caroline Parkman across the way on Saturday night and carry on a whole lot worse than that. They steam up the windows, and then their heads disappear. And they’ve only been going out two months.

His father chuckled.

Now, if I was told there was a Peepin’ Tom under my roof, I woulda sworn it’d be Bubba Ray. Oops, look. He’s finally releasing her.

As Katherine Marie exited the truck, her spirits were high. She was laughing, rolling her eyes at something her intended said. When she saw the two Sassaport men watching her, she dropped her gaze. Jackson hurried back to a seat at the table and bent over his paperwork.

Dr. Sassaport, good morning. Have a nice weekend, sir? Can I get you something?

Daddy ordered a hefty breakfast for himself and a light one for Mama, which he instructed Katherine Marie to set on a tray and bring right up to her. He’d be in his study and would appreciate a call when his own was ready. Humming, she started in to fixing the coffee, boiling water for Mama’s oatmeal.

How about you, Jackson? You must have played a lot this weekend to be up so early with your schoolwork.

Not really. I was just lazy, is all. And you? How’d your weekend pass?

Oh, it was wonderful, thank you for asking. My Bokay was anointed deacon of our church this Sunday. I was so proud. He’s the youngest ever deacon in our church’s history. He gave a sermon, you know, on the Book of Revelation and I swear he moved the congregation so they were weepin’ and dancin’ in the aisles and singin’ Praise Jesus! ‘til they was frog hoarse. Then we had a big ole church supper to celebrate. I was so proud. So proud.

Jackson’s pin-holed heart dropped to the ground, where her joyous banter stomped it to dust. All his impossible dreams of conquering her, of stealing her from L’il Bokay lay stomped to dust next to. He reached deep inside his broken spirit and decided to be magnanimous, noble, and let her go. He said: So you’ll be a preacher’s wife. That’s a very nice life, I would think. I truly hope you will be happy and prosperous.

Katherine Marie laughed. Well, she said, no. There’s a heap of learning and service between being a deacon and being a preacher. And anyway there’s not much money in it unless you’ve got the spark and go on the circuit. My Bokay’s got the spark alright, but he’s got me and two jobs already. He works over to the lumberyard during the day and over to the Tick Tock Diner at night. Once we’ve got the money together, we’re going to send me to nursing school. That’s the first thing. After that, I don’t know. I truly don’t. ‘Course we don’t know where I’m going to be able to go to school, either. Maybe Tougaloo will take me, but I’d have to take the entrance examinations, and my high school didn’t offer them. I was lucky to have a high school that gave me a whole four years of education, never mind college preparation. It’s a problem. Bokay says that’s why it’s a good thing for me to work for your daddy. Maybe he’ll take a likin’ to me and help me out later on. What do you think, Jackson? Do you think your daddy could help me?

She whipped around from her counterwork to face him, and her young face was so alive, so alight with what Jackson determined was hopefulness and love for her man and their future, that out of his own
affection he could not disabuse her of any notion, however foolish, she might possess. Never mind that Daddy came home from his White Citizens’ Council meetings every week on fire with indignation over the mischief uppity Negroes concocted at the prodding of communist agitators. Never mind that he swore his head off asserting that if they didn’t learn to simmer down and be patient, allow change to occur at a natural speed so that the entirety of the social order would not be derailed and civility lost forever, there was no way the Council could continue to deter the Klan from acting out. Once out of the box, those kluckers would know no restraint. None at all, he’d say. And when they finish moppin’ up Main Street with Negro blood, guess who, he’d say, guess who’d be next. Never mind all that. What Jackson said was: I’m sure Daddy’d help you in whatever way he’s able. Once he gets to know you better, Katherine Marie.

His reassurance seemed to please her very much. To make good on his words, Jackson sought ways to ingratiate Katherine Marie with his daddy. After a time, Mama felt more secure about the household running along smoothly. She got out of bed and took up a few duties she enjoyed, like shopping and folding laundry. This left Katherine Marie with a little more time on her hands. Jackson, seizing opportunity when Daddy chanced to complain at dinner that he couldn’t get any decent help on charity nights, suggested Katherine Marie work at the office on Thursday evenings. If need be, he’d help out Mama at home in her absence, which he wouldn’t mind if it made life easier on the doctor. It would be a way, sir, of thanking you before I go off to college, he added, knowing Daddy wouldn’t be able to resist the balm of filial devotion. Well, you seem to know her better than any of us, Dr. Sassaport said without the tiniest note of sarcasm. Do you think she’s smart enough to handle some of the simpler tasks I give my nurses of an evening? Sterilizing the instruments, fetching the bandage, undressing the ladies, things like that? Jackson thought this an incredibly dense
question, since Katherine Marie had been in charge of Mama’s health care and all of them really for months now, but he pretended to take the time to formulate a thoughtful response. Daddy waited. Well? Why, yes, sir, I do. Katherine Marie’s at the very least as smart as that.

In this way, Katherine Marie became grateful to Jackson and struggled to repay him without incurring the notice of family members who might not approve. She made him special dainties and packed them away in his school lunch. When she ironed his shirts, she sprayed them with rose water first to improve their scent. She always had a smile for him when he came home no matter how her day with Miss Missy went. She helped him with his homework by listening to him explain the theories of his history and science texts and recite the poems and essays he memorized for the public-speaking club. As time went by, she realized she was learning from him things they never bothered to teach her when she was in school, things she needed to know if she were ever to get to nursing school, things she thought Bokay ought to know as well, so she tried to teach them to him in turn on the weekends. In the meantime, the doctor was pleased with her work at the office Thursday nights and considered expanding the scope of her chores. He took to calling her “my best all-around gal.” Once or twice, he teased Mama that he needed Katherine Marie more than she did and he just might steal her away.

It seemed to Jackson as if his life at home had obtained a golden burnish like that which adorned ancient treasure described in the Bible. Everyone was happy. Mama was happy. Daddy was happy. Katherine Marie was happy. One might easily surmise Bubba Ray was happy as well, since that hulking devil never played on Katherine Marie the tricks he’d peppered over his brother, his old babysitters, and Sukie. On two occasions, he overheard Bubba Ray speak to Katherine Marie in a honeyed voice and ask if he could help her with this or that. The first time, it made him clench his fists in the hallway. The second, he
got in the kitchen right quick to see how Katherine Marie handled him. Bubba Ray saw him and shot him a sly look. Katherine Marie saw him a heartbeat later and told his brother: That’s alright, Jackson always takes the garbage out for me, and here he is. Jackson could not resist a chin-up gesture of triumph over Bubba Ray, but then Katherine Marie ruffled the latter’s hair like one does a much smaller child than he. It was a tenderness Jackson would have fought for on the field of honor. You go on and play, she said, and Bubba Ray handed off the garbage pail to Jackson with a snicker. He would have been angry, but at least the boy was gone now. He and Katherine Marie spent the rest of their afternoon alone, he with his homework, she with her kitchen chores. In the end, as long as Jackson could continue to focus his life on the Katherine Marie—filled Mondays through Fridays and distract himself on Saturdays and Sundays when her time belonged to Li’l Bokay, he was happy too.

The senior prom came and went. Jackson escorted Felicity Rose Carter. She clung to his arm all night tighter than a tree toad to a windshield in July, which should have pleased him but didn’t. It irritated him until he couldn’t wait for the last dance to be done and over with. Graduation came and went. Jackson was valedictorian of his class. That hot June afternoon, he gave a speech on the virtues of community service, which was well received. Later there was a party in his honor back at the house attended by the entire Sassaport clan and half the neighbors as well. Katherine Marie couldn’t handle the workload for such a huge party by herself even with all the aunts bringing covered dishes, so L’il Bokay was enlisted to help serve along with his cousin Don Edward.