The Summer We Got Free (13 page)

1955

O
n Easter
Sunday, everyone came to church in color. Most people in pastels: soft yellows
and baby blues; others in bright oranges and purples. It was one of those warm
Easters, smack in the middle of April, and many folks walked to the church from
several blocks away, promenading past row houses with tiny front gardens that
burst with new flowers that competed for attention with the women's new hats.
Some of the little girls' dresses matched their mothers’; others matched the
pale yellows and greens of their fathers' ties. If Jesus had been looking down
on them from above, which he wasn't, he would have seen tiny dots, moving along
the sidewalks, their colors bright and sure as candy wrappers, waving to each
other across streets, catching up to each other at corners, and leaning out car
windows, honking their horns and shouting, "Happy Easter, y'all."

Sitting in
Sunday school, in the basement of Blessed Chapel Church of God, Ava listened to
Sister Hattie as she read from the children’s bible the story of the
Resurrection, and it was mostly due to the promise of jellybeans and colorful
marshmallow bunnies and chocolate that she did not challenge the logic of the
tale. She knew that right after Sunday school was over and before church
service began, all the kids would be given straw baskets full of paper grass
and sweets. Last Sunday, after she had been "disruptive" during
class, her father had told her that if she didn't behave this week in Sunday
school, he would take away her Easter basket. So, when Sister Hattie said,
"Jesus died on the cross for our sins," Ava concentrated hard on the
muscles in her forehead, forced them to remain still, so as not to raise an
eyebrow, and only smiled when Sister Hattie glanced cautiously in her direction.

"So that if
we believe in him, our sins will be washed away," Sister Hattie continued.

Ava closed her
eyes and tried to imagine the taste of the smooth confections coming her way,
all of them soft and a little bit
melty
from the
warmth inside the church, ready to stick to the foil wrapper as it was pulled
away, ready to smudge her fingertips with sweetness that was bound to find its
way onto her lacy yellow dress, like a badge of chocolate honor for holding her
tongue.

"It was the
greatest sacrifice ever made," said Sister Hattie.

Ava's hand was
in the air before she could stop it.

"Ava,
don't," Geo whispered, from his seat next to her.

Sister Hattie
said, "Yes, Ava?" with a tired in her voice that had not been there a
moment ago.

"But if he
came back to life three days later, and then went up to heaven," Ava asked,
"what did he really sacrifice?"

  
Sister
Hattie frowned.
 

Later, after the
Easter baskets had been given out, Ava saw Sister Hattie talking to Regina and
George, glancing over at Ava, who added another jellybean to the five she
already had in her mouth.

"Daddy's
gone take your candy," said Geo, who was standing beside her by the altar,
rummaging through his basket. “How come there aint never no—”

“Butterscotches?
’Cause only you and old ladies eat those.”

Across the room,
Ava saw Sondra, Doris
Liddy’s
daughter, looking like
a giant Easter egg in her pastel pink dress and matching hat. Beside her, Lamar
Casey looked uncomfortable in a too-small suit.

“What’s he doing
here?” Ava asked Geo. “
Caseys
never come to Sunday
school.”

Geo shrugged.
“He probably just came—”

“For the candy?”

He nodded.

When her parents
came over, they were both frowning at Ava. "Can't you ever just
behave?" George asked.

“But,
Daddy—”

“Don’t
but Daddy
me. Give me that basket.”

Ava clutched the
basket tighter and shook her head, no.

“I aint playing
with you, Ava,” George said. “Don’t make me ask for it again.”

“It’s mine,” Ava
said.

George reached
for his belt buckle. “You think I won’t whip your behind right here in front of
all these people?”

“George,” Regina
said, putting a hand on his arm. “Don’t.” She looked at Ava. “Give your father
the basket, please.”

Glaring at her
father, Ava handed it over, and watched as he walked over to Sondra
Liddy
and gave the basket to her. Sondra grinned meanly at
Ava from across the room.

“Mama, look what
I did,” Geo said to Regina, holding up a drawing of an Easter bunny he’d made
during the last twenty minutes of Sunday school, a cute crayon sketch in pink.

Regina took it,
saying, “This is wonderful, baby.”

Geo beamed.

“Did you do a drawing, Ava?”

Ava, still
glaring in her father’s direction, held up her drawing, and Regina studied it.
Unlike her brother’s drawing, Ava’s did not look like the clumsy crayon
sketchings
of a nine-year-old, but rather like the effort
of a child much older. The little details, in the fold of the bunny’s ear and
the light, playful curve of its whiskers, were amazing.

“It’s a
masterpiece,” Regina said.

Ava, hearing
those words, stopped glaring at George and smiled up at her mother. “Thank
you,” she said. “I know.”

The Easter Bazaar was held out in the sunshine. Right
after the church service was over, the congregation of Blessed Chapel spilled
out into the church parking lot, where tables had been set up, decorated with
balloons and crinkly paper
ribbon.
Some of the tables
were full of sweets, cakes and cookies and pies for sale, and others held
crafts. Ceramics. Hand-knit
afghans
.

Regina and Maddy
sat behind a table adorned with bright red balloons, with a handwritten sign
that read, "Cakes, cookies and pies by Regina and Maddy." They had
spent all Saturday evening in
Maddy's
kitchen, baking
coconut cake and cherry pie, apple cobbler and chocolate brownies, and peanut-butter
cookies, all of which were now outselling everybody else's baked goods.

"We should
have made a second cobbler," Regina said, after selling a piece to Hattie
Mitchell. "This one's already half gone."

"Save me a
piece of that," George said, walking up to the table with Chuck.

"You got
twenty cents?" Maddy asked him.

"You should
have caught him before they passed the collection plate," said Chuck, and
they all laughed. Regina watched George put his hand on Chuck’s shoulder.

Doris
Liddy
came by the table and asked for a slice of cherry pie
and, distracted, Regina grabbed the knife by the wrong end, and the blade
sliced into her finger. She sucked at the pie-tasting cut and watched George,
who had not noticed the accident, walking off towards another table with Chuck.

When Malcolm
said, "Let me get two slices of that coconut cake, Regina," she
wasn’t listening, and had to ask him to repeat himself. "Coconut," Malcolm
said again. "Two."

She cut him a
couple slices and took his thirty cents.

Malcolm lowered his voice and asked, "Y'all hear
about Grace?"

"What about
her?" Maddy asked.

"Afternoon, Pastor," Regina said loudly, as
Pastor Goode walked over.

Maddy and
Malcolm said, "Happy Easter, Pastor."

"Same to
y'all.
Regina, this all looks wonderful.
You sure
pulled this thing together."

Regina had been
in charge of planning the bazaar. It had not been a big job, just a matter of
borrowing some tables and buying some decorations, at the church's expense, and
getting some folks to help set up. "My part was easy. Let’s just thank the
Lord for this lovely weather."

"If you're
able," said Pastor Goode, "I'd be mighty grateful if you'd lend a
hand with the planning of next month's Mother's Day Breakfast. Hattie can't do
it all on her own."

"I thought Grace Kellogg was in charge of
that," Regina said.

Pastor Goode
shook his head. "Grace aint
part of this church
no more."

Malcolm and
Maddy exchanged a look.

"I need to
go speak with Elder Jones," said the pastor. "Y'all excuse me?"

As soon as he
was gone, Maddy asked, "Since when aint Grace a member of this
church?"

"That's
what I was 'bout to tell y’all," said Malcolm. "Eddie caught Grace
with another man."

"You lying!
Grace Kellogg? That quiet little thing?”

"You know
what they say 'bout the quiet ones," Malcolm said.

"I don't
hate nothing worse than being the last to know when juicy shit happens,"
said Maddy.

"Maddy, we
in church."

"No, we
aint. We only in the church parking lot."

“But I don't
understand why Grace left the church," said Regina.

"Pastor had
a talk with her,” Malcolm said. “Tried to get her to repent, but she wouldn’t.
I heard she wasn’t even shamed of herself. Pastor told her
there
aint no place here for sinners who won’t repent."

“He threw her
out?” Regina asked.

“Not exactly.
But he let her know she wouldn’t be welcome no more, I guess.”

"Guess
again," Maddy said, and the other two followed her eyes toward the
entrance to the parking lot, where Grace Kellogg had appeared.

Sister Kellogg made her way around the tables near the
entrance of the parking lot, and at first she did not seem to notice the backward
glances and whispers. She said "Happy Easter" to some folks, smiling
bright as that April afternoon, and they smiled back politely and said,
"Happy Easter, Grace," and then shared scandalized looks once she had
gone on past them. When she stopped at a table selling homemade jams, she said,
"Oh, these look wonderful." Antoinette Brown, and her sister,
Lonette
, folded their arms simultaneously across their
equally massive bosoms, and did not say a word in reply. A little wrinkle
appeared on Sister Kellogg's forehead, right between her eyebrows.
"Well," she said. "Y'all have a blessed day." Neither
sister wished her the same.

She walked past
other tables, stopping now and then to examine what was for sale and along the
way her smile got less and less bright. By the time she reached Regina and
Maddy's
table, it was all but gone, though both Regina and
Maddy chatted with her, the details of the chat unable to be heard over at the
hopscotch game, from where Ava was watching. She had been playing hopscotch with
her sister and Ellen
Duggard
when Sister Kellogg
entered the bazaar, and she had watched the woman as she moved through the
crowd of people, watched their strange reactions, the whispers and cold
shoulders, not knowing what any of it was about. She saw Pastor Goode, standing
with his arms folded across his chest, his eyes squinted suspiciously at Sister
Kellogg, and she knew all this must have something to do with him. She didn’t
like it one bit. Sister Kellogg had been Ava's Sunday school teacher the year
before and, unlike Sister Hattie, she had always told Ava that questioning the
bible, questioning everything in the world, was exactly what a smart girl like
her ought to do.

She watched
Sister Kellogg buy a slice of cherry pie with trembling hands from Regina, then
turn and walk back past the other tables, heading out of the bazaar.

"It's your
turn, Ava," Sarah called to her, but Ava was already walking away from the
hopscotch game. She skipped over to Sister Kellogg, at the same time that Geo,
who had been playing chase with some other kids, came up to her from the other
side. Both children wished her a happy Easter in unison.

When she saw
them both, grinning up at her, a shadow that had fallen over her face
disappeared. "Happy Easter, Ava. And Geo. Don't y'all look precious?"

"How are
you, Sister Kellogg?" Geo asked her, in that way he had that made it
impossible for grown-ups to lie.

Sister Kellogg
sighed. "Embarrassed," she said. "But not ashamed." Neither
child knew what she was talking about, but Ava put her arms around Sister
Kellogg, who put one hand on each child's cheek and said, "Y'all come see
me sometime, okay? I got some books for you,” they both nodded, eagerly.

"Ava, you
holding up the game," Sarah yelled.

Geo rejoined the
game of chase. Ava went back to hopscotch, but she waited until Sister Kellogg
had reached the end of the parking lot and was gone from her sight.

Regina had been watching her children from behind her
table full of baked goods, and watching everybody else watching them,
especially Pastor Goode. He was standing over by Minnie Jones’ table and had
been eyeing the twins as they talked to Grace Kellogg, with a look of benign
curiosity on his face, but with
a stiffness
in his
shoulders that Regina couldn’t help but notice. She wondered what that was
about. Whatever it was, it had seemed to be mutual, at least between the pastor
and Ava. When Ava had opened her arms to give Grace a hug, Regina was sure she
had seen her daughter look right over at the pastor as she did it, with no
small amount of defiance in her eyes.