The Last Road Home (14 page)

C
HAPTER
27

F
ancy cooked peas, cabbage, bacon, and biscuits for supper. “After you go to church tomorrow, I'm going to take the shovel and dig out the creek so we'll have plenty of water,” Lightning said.

I stirred my fork around in the food, not having much of an appetite. “All the tools are under the woodshed.”

“Sure would be nice to see Momma and Daddy,” Lightning said to Fancy. “They doing all right, ain't they?”

“Sounds like it from the bed squeaking all the time. You ever do it with any of them migrant women?”

“Let's put it this way, everybody shared on the bus. If a man and a woman had an itch, they'd scratch it.”

I'd never had a sister or brother, so maybe this kind of talk was normal. “How'd you keep them from getting pregnant?”

Lightning took on like a teacher, giving the benefit of his worldly experience. “Truth is, if they did, they did. The boss man said the kids would be a free hand when they got big enough to work.” He looked at his sister. “You ain't pregnant, are you?”

Fancy slapped at his head with a dish towel.

* * *

It was sticky hot in the kitchen; no cross breeze at all came through the open window. “I'm going on the porch.”

Lightning was right behind me. “You got any more cigarettes?”

Why not put a sign on my back that said, E
VERYTHING'S
F
REE AT
J
UNEBUG'S
?

Lightning relaxed. “Sure is mighty peaceful.”

My headache began to ease while the three of us sat and talked. Lightning was full of jokes and stories, teasing Fancy about things from when they were kids. He stood up and stretched. “My bed's calling. Y'all behave now.”

As soon as we couldn't hear him anymore, Fancy and me went into Grandma's bedroom. “When Lightning's like that, seems he ain't really gone anywhere.” Fancy cuddled against me. “He went through some bad stuff, but maybe, with enough time, he'll get back to his old self.”

“It's them other times that worry me.” I closed my arms around her, needing to feel better about what was happening.

“I'm sleepy,” Fancy whispered.

“Be right embarrassing if Mr. and Mrs. Wilson found us like this in the morning.”

“Mr. Wilson would just be jealous. He's always watching me out the side of his eye.”

I propped up on one elbow. “Get the hell out of here. Mr. Wilson?”

“A man is a man, Junebug, he's got needs.”

The conversation between Mr. Wilson and me about not getting involved with Fancy came back.
Why, you old bastard
. “That's what Mrs. Wilson is for.” Maybe all those community men sitting in the church pews every Sunday spouting about loving their neighbors might have a whole other meaning.

“Every old cracker man thinks a young colored gal can't wait to turn up her behind to him. He'll come around to me one of these days.”

“What'll you do if he does?”

Fancy hugged her chest, then rolled away from me. “Depends on whether he makes me or not.”

“You mean beat on you?”

“He wouldn't have to do that. He could just say I go along with him or he'll kick my folks off his farm.” She sounded angry at my stupidity. “What do you think I can do then? How you think all them high-yellows got that way?”

“You ain't thinking of us like that, are you?” How cruel was it a person had to live waiting for a devil to come out of the shadows, helpless to fight back?

“Of course not.” Her voice softened. “I'm here because I want to be. We're just a man and a woman to each other. Either one of us can walk away any time we want.”

“Why would we?”

Fancy pulled the sheet up to her neck and yawned. “Some folks just do, I reckon. Don't want to be together no more.”

“I'd never walk away from you, Fancy, never.”

Wide awake there in the darkness, feeling the gentle movement of Fancy's body against me with each even breath of sleep, I considered how so much of dealing with life stuff wasn't about what a person knew, but what they didn't know. What Fancy said about the power Mr. Wilson had over her made a knot in the pit of my stomach. I'd seen him staring at Fancy when she walked. How could I have been so stupid not to understand?

My eyes began to close in spite of the tension in my mind. I jerked awake, reaching to make sure Fancy was still beside me. I buried my face into her hair and reached to cover her with my arms, kissing her shoulder, neck, and cheek, letting the touch, smell, and taste of her chase away the nightmare. When I ran my hand over her stomach Fancy stretched and yawned like a big cat. “You best quit that, Junebug, unless you can back it up.” She rolled to face me, at the same time sliding her leg over my hip, connecting us in the warmth of slow, easy, loving sex. As Fancy arched her back to absorb me completely, I whispered to her, “I'll kill him if he ever touches you.”

C
HAPTER
28

I
n June, Mr. Wilson took me to the highway patrol station to get my driver's license. I was nervous as an old woman, but passed with no problem. Fancy was at the house when I got home. I showed her my shiny new license. “Come on, let's go for a ride.” We drove to Apex, stopped at the gas station on Highway 64, and even rode by Fancy's school so I could see it. The freedom to come and go as I pleased was a breath of air I needed.

By the middle of July, everybody was cleaning out barns, fixing up slides, and getting ready for the start of tobacco priming season. Gardens needed to be picked, and between that and other fieldwork, workdays were long; it was hard, but satisfying to know I was looking after myself.

Fancy and me had spent a long day pinching tobacco worms off leaves in the field, and sat on the porch after a supper of leftovers, hoping for a breeze to cool us. Even after dark, the humid, damp air lay heavy.

Lightning came out to sit with us. “Junebug, you need to take me to Durham.”

“What for?”

“Need to find somebody who can buy that marijuana when it's ready.”

I leaned my chair back against the wall, lit a cigarette, and watched smoke float toward the wire screen. “How you going to do that?”

“I can stay a night or two with my auntie in Hayti. Don't expect it'll take long to locate the right person.”

Fancy put her hand over his. “Don't you let the police catch you running around up there.”

“So many coloreds in that place, Fancy, nobody's going to notice one more. Besides, it'll give me some getaway time.”

Maybe he would get away for good. “When you aiming to go?”

“We can do it tonight if you want to.”

I glanced at Fancy. “You want to ride with us?”

“Yep. Don't know the last time I went to Durham.”

We hopped in the truck and headed to town. Hayti wasn't any problem to find, just drive through the center of Durham and turn left across the railroad tracks. It was like entering another world. It felt different; the smell of barbecue and fried fish floated along the street, and there was electricity in the air. Music blasted from open doors of juke joints, and the sidewalks were crowded with colored folks talking and laughing; everybody celebrated the week's end. We rattled over the rough rails and stopped at a red light. “Let me off right here,” said Lightning. “Pick me up at this same spot Sunday about six.”

Fancy kissed his cheek. “Be careful.”

I eased the truck around the corner, catching a lot of stares, a cracker boy riding with a colored girl. On the way out of town we spotted a Dairy Queen and stopped for ice cream. There were just as many hard looks from the crowd of white folks. I got the cones to go.

The ice cream was melting so fast we stopped on the side of the road to finish it. “You want me to go ahead and drop you off?”

“Trying to get rid of me?”

“Thought since it was getting late, you might need to get home.”

She slid her hand up and down my thigh. “Not going home.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Daddy's cousin picked them up this afternoon. They're going to a wake for Aunt Emma down in Kinston, and won't be back until tomorrow.”

“You mean, you can stay all night?”

“That's what I mean, white boy.”

C
HAPTER
29

S
unlight peeping through the window curtains woke me. Fancy was already awake. “Morning,” she said, eyes wide open.

I slid my arm beneath her head. “And top of the day to you. Did you sleep good?”

“I kept watching the ceiling, wondering if your grandma might visit.” She draped her leg over mine. The odor of sex floated up when the covers moved.

“Can I tell you something, Fancy?”

The sheet slipped down, exposing her breasts. She didn't move to cover them. “As long as it's not something bad.”

“When Grandma died at the hospital, I felt her spirit lift out.”

Fancy sat up straight, eyes wide. “What? What do you mean, you felt her spirit?”

“It was strange. I felt this stir of air, soft, like the brush of a bird's wing, and I knew it was her. Granddaddy was there too. I've been thinking about it a long time, trying to make sure it wasn't my imagination in that hospital room.”

She looked me hard in the eyes. “You ain't messing with me, are you, Junebug?”

“I never would over something like that.”

Fancy lay back and pulled the sheet up to her neck. “What do you think it means?”

“I took it to mean that this ain't the end, that maybe we float around in the air, invisible to folks still living.”

“I always thought you'd just close your eyes, then be in heaven.”

“Just didn't want you to worry about Grandma visiting.”

“Let's don't talk about it no more, okay.” She moved the sheet and rolled to face me.

“I ain't going to let nothing happen to you.” I lifted her leg over my hip, feeling myself getting excited.

Fancy put her nose to mine, staring me in the eyes, whispering. “You know, you're right pretty for a white boy. Got them crazy blue eyes from your grandma.”

“How many white boys you been this close to?” I pulled our middles together.

She lifted and raked herself against me. “You'll make one.” I could feel her wetness.

When I slipped into her, she sucked in a sharp breath. “Keep it like that.

“What about when you find a white girl?” We started to move slowly.

“Ain't looking.”

Fancy closed her eyes, and began to flex her hips. “Don't worry . . . they'll come for you.” She stuttered between words. “That feels so good.”

I moved faster, enjoying feeling in control. “Mr. Wilson said you'd ruin me for any proper white woman.”

“Am I?” Her hips moved more urgently.

“I hope so.” I rolled Fancy to her back, gripped my hands underneath her butt, and forced harder. She came back at me with a fury. It became a battle, a war of passion, fighting and clawing and demanding, the slapping sound of the sex making me crazy. When she felt the end coming, Fancy pulled my face down, kissing and grabbing my bottom lip with her teeth. We slammed together like two trains crashing head-on.

Fancy lay back on the pillow, holding me in place. “Damn you, Junebug.”

“I know.”

* * *

After church Sunday morning, I loafed around the house most of the day. When five o'clock came and Fancy hadn't showed, I got an uneasy feeling. I made myself get in the truck and ride to Durham, turning the radio loud, trying to drown out my worry.

Lightning waited in the same place we'd dropped him off. “Where's Fancy?”

I shut off the country music. “She never showed up today.”

“Did you go by the house?”

“Hell no! Are you crazy? If she's got in trouble over something, I wasn't about to make it worse.”

“Damn it. I wish I could go home. Daddy can start sipping that shine once in a while and sometimes he'll get mean.”

“You don't think he'd hurt Fancy, do you?”

“He's liable to slap her around some, like he does Momma. I don't know what makes him get like that. Momma says to let it pass, says it's the inside hurt of a black man always having to bow down to white folks. She said he ain't got anywhere else to let it out.”

I'd never heard that about Roy before.

“We'll find out soon enough. By Monday, Daddy has to have his self back right so he can go to work. Fancy will be around tomorrow.”

I picked up the street leading out of town. “Did you find anybody to buy the stuff?” A giant sign above the Wachovia Bank building blinked seven o'clock and eighty-three degrees.

“Oh yeah. I asked around until I got hold of this man called Twin. He used to have a twin brother, but some white policeman killed him a few years back. Now he's meaner than a no-dick dog, generally don't like white folks, and hates police. He's the biggest dope dealer in Hayti, which means he's got the money. I spoke to him, and he said he would look at a sample when we were finished.”

“You didn't tell him where, did you?”

“Do I look stupid?” Lightning looped his arm across the back of the seat, sounding important. “All I told him is when we're done this fall, I'd come to visit him.”

The highway got very dark as we pulled away from the city lights. “You talk price?”

“No use worrying about that until he gets a sample. He's not going to pay much for rag, but he will for good stuff.”

“How will we know what ours is?”

He smacked the dashboard. “I told you I smoked some back in Georgia, Junebug.”

“Sure hope you know what you're doing.”

“I got it under control.”

Lightning's attitude wore on my nerves, acting all-important, like he was our savior. I'd give him his due for growing the crop, but it was on “my” land, with “my” equipment, and all the while I was hiding him in “my” house so those good old boys wouldn't have a chance to make him an oak-tree necktie.

The next afternoon Fancy did show up. Her right eye was swollen almost shut.

I gripped her by the shoulders. “What happened to you?”

She tried to wave me off. “Ain't nothing, Junebug, don't worry yourself.” Fancy twisted away and went into the kitchen.

“Don't tell me what to worry about.” I followed her.

Lightning walked in. “What the heck are y'all hollering about? I could hear you in the yard.”

Fancy turned her back so he couldn't see. Lightning walked in front of her. He reached up to touch her eye. “Daddy do this to you?”

She stared at the floor.

“What for?” His voice was loud and demanding.

“Let it go, Lightning. I'm all right.”

I edged between them. “Was it anything to do with me?”

“He was drinking and I reckon he had you and me on his mind, so he made sure I understood I better not be messing around.” Fancy pulled out a kitchen chair, sat down, and put her head in her hands.

I headed to the bedroom. When I came back to the kitchen with the truck keys, Fancy got in front of me and grabbed my arm. “No, you ain't! You are not leaving this house. I told you I'm all right.”

“Nobody is going to beat on you, Fancy, not for any reason, and for sure not because of me.”

Lightning came beside us. “Fancy's speaking the truth. This is between a daddy and his child. You got no rights.”

I looked down, heat boiling up from my feet to my head. I let my finger trace the red checks in the tablecloth. The room got quiet. I looked him in the eyes. “Lightning, don't ever again tell me what I can and can't do.”

“Junebug, stop it!” Fancy shoved me backward.

I went into the bedroom, slamming the door. I could take my shotgun and solve this shit right now. Seemed like I was the odd man out lately. Nobody was going to push me around in my own house. There was a deep-down angry fire inside me I'd never felt before. I didn't know if my hands shook because I was mad or if I was scared of how mad I was.

I could hear Fancy's voice from the kitchen. “You best quit pushing Junebug; he's got enough to deal with.”

“He needs to mind his own business.”

“I am his business, so you need to get over it or get gone.”

The porch door slammed. Fancy came in where I was and put her arms around me. “I appreciate you wanting to look after me, Junebug, but some things a person has to let pass. My daddy loves me. He doesn't mean to hurt me or Momma, just sometimes he can't take it no more.”

I pushed her to arm's length. “I understand your daddy's toted his burdens a lot of years. But Lightning is where he is by his own hand, and he ain't going to run my life.”

“Hush. Enough about all that.” Fancy pushed me back on the bed. “Come here.” She started to undo my belt.

“What about Lightning?”

She laughed as she took off her dress. “Let him find his own woman.”