When Everything's Said & Done (9 page)

“I’m sure that’s what you think,” Cora said. “But I feel good and the truth is I don’t eat that much meat anymore.”

“My stars.” Laura opened the screen door and stepped inside the house. “We gon’ have to fix that.”

Nebia’s Story...

“She came back,” Erica exclaimed. “How long was Cora gone?”

“A year, three months and five days,” Nebia replied without hesitation.

“You remember it so well,” Cynthia said. “Miss Laura had to be happy, too.”

“And Brenda,” Sheila added.

“Yes. Brenda, too,” Cynthia agreed.

“Mmm-hmm,” Nebia sounded. “We were all deeply moved that Cora has returned to us. Especially Michael. A glow came over his face when he saw her. I told you I watched it all from the porch. I saw every one of their faces. Laura’s joy. Brenda’s uneasy happi
ness. And Michael’s surrender to Cora.”

“Do you think Brenda saw that?” Erica asked.

Nebia leaned toward her. “I don’t know if she saw it that day, but it wasn’t long before everybody knew. ”

CHAPTER 10

Miss Laura sighed as she wiped her hands on her apron. “It almost seems like old times again. Almost.” Her smile was forlorn before her chest lifted. “Although I miss my Annette, it surely feels good having you back.” She looked at Cora, who smiled.

“And a great meal like the one we just had only adds to the pleasure,” Michael said as he stood up.

“It was good, wasn’t it?” Miss Laura’s smile broadened. “Mighty good. Mama,” Cora said. Brenda simply nodded.

Laura used the arm of the couch as a counterweight to push her way onto her feet. “It doesn’t hurt seeing you around here so often, either, Michael. For a while there I thought you had forgotten us.”

Michael glanced at Cora before he looked at Miss Laura. “There is no way I could ever forget you. Miss Laura. You know that.”

“Either way,” Laura replied, “it’s good. It’s all good.” Michael pushed the chair up to the table. “I guess I ought to be going. I don’t want to wear out my welcome.” “I’ve got to go, too,” Brenda said. “They’ve asked
me to head up a community organization. So I’ve got a meeting to go to.”

“What kind of organization?” Cora asked.

“It’s just getting started,” Brenda replied. “But it’s a neighborhood watch program. We’ve had quite a few problems lately with the young boys out here trying to prove they’re men with knives and guns. I’m organizing a group that will help our neighbors feel a little safer.” “Sounds good.” Cora smiled at her sister.

“And you’ll be just the person to do it, too,” Michael added.

Brenda looked at him, then looked away.

“Where’s it going to be held? At the community cen
ter?” Michael tried to engage her.

“No. No.” Brenda looked at him. “It’s going to be at Rising Star Baptist Church. The church is thinking about backing me on this. They’ve got a community outreach program and they want me to consider start
ing a tutoring program for the youth.”

“Seems like a match,” Cora said as Miss Laura crossed her arms.

“You sound rather interested, Cora. Do you want to come?”

Cora shook her head. “No-o. It’s not for me.” She tried to soften her reply. “But I can see you doing it. Me.. .I’m thinking about going right down to the beach. I want a little quiet time with nature.”

“Brenda just told you how dangerous it’s gotten around here, Cora,” Miss Laura warned. “I don’t know if it’s wise for you to go down there and be sitting on that beach in the dark by yourself.”

“I’ll be fine. Mama. Believe me,” Cora assured her. “Over this past year I’ve dealt with more than young thugs who think that violence is a way to show their strength.” Cora rose from her chair. “But you’re right about it getting dark. So I’m going to leave right now. I won’t be long.” She walked toward the front door. “Good night, Michael. And I’ll see you later, Brenda.” Cora opened the door and closed it behind her.

Moments later Brenda and Michael got into their cars and drove off. But as Michael got further down the street the headlights of his Olds 225 caught Cora in their glare. He rolled down the window and began to drive beside her.

“Perhaps Miss Laura was right, Cora. It is kind of dark out here for you to be walking to that beach alone. Would you care for some company?”

“Are you into nature?” Cora continued to walk as Michael’s car crept beside her.

“Can’t say I have been, but I can sit quietly and wait while you do what you need to do. I don’t mind.” Cora stopped and Michael stopped his car. “Michael, I just...” She drew a deep breath.

“What is it, Cora? You’ve been acting as if I bite or something.” There was a stare-down. “I’m the same Michael you used to know. No different. No different at all.”

Cora smiled into his honest, open eyes. “I know you don’t bite. And sure—” she shrugged “—^you can take me to the beach.” She walked around the car and climbed in on the passenger’s side.

It was a short ride filled by a few idle words, shadowed by unspoken thoughts. When Cora and Michael climbed out of the car it was almost dark. It grew darker still as they walked onto the beach, away from the lit parking lot. With ceremony Cora sat on the sand. Hesitantly, Michael looked around him before he joined her a few feet away.

“The Mother feels so good.” Cora ran her hands over the ground.

“She does?” Michael asked.

“Yes. Yes, she does. If you just try—” Cora closed her eyes “—you can feel it, too. You’ll feel it in your heart. While I was in Zambia there was nothing that fed me more than going out and sitting near the Zambezi River. It was amazing because the water was so alive there. I knew it was alive. I knew its moods by the sounds it made.”

“I’ve never thought about water being alive. Or having moods.” Michael shook his head. “It just never occurred to me. To be honest with you, I just don’t understand.”

Cora reached out toward the water. “It’s got to be alive, Michael. How can it not be? We are. And the same thing that created us, created it.” She paused. “The Tonga tribe that I lived with were forced to leave
the banks of the Zambezi back in the 50’s. I stayed with a Tongan woman named Chiti. She was a widow and a medicine woman. The entire village would give her food because she had no man to take care of her. But it was also because she was an asset to the village. She had knowledge of herbs and spirits... ” Cora glanced at Michael, “...and human nature. So they fed her, and in the very beginning when things were very rough for me, she made sure I ate too.” Cora knocked the sand from her hands. “From time to time Chiti and I would leave the barren highlands and go to a place near the banks of the Zambezi. There we would stay for a week at a time eating from the land and drinking of the spirit of the earth.”

“My God, Cora. Only you would be able to do some
thing like that.” Admiration filled Michael’s words. “I think of Africa with dangerous animals and a tough life, but there you were living it.”

“I did what I had to do at the time, Michael. I couldn’t come back here. I couldn’t come back.” She shook her head. “And there was danger. I nearly lost my mind after Annette’s death. If it hadn’t been for Chiti, I don’t know what would have happened to me. But she brought me back from the brink and kept me alive during the process. Yes—” she looked at him “—there were times I was frightened of the animals, but there were other times when they were so beautiful. I’ve seen elephants and giraffes and antelopes and warthogs
and spotted hyenas and even leopards. And from sandpipers to babblers. I’ve seen some of everything, Michael, but nothing was nearly as frightening as being lost in the abyss of my mind, and the guilt around Annette.”

“I guess we’ve all dealt
with guilt, but what can we do?” Michael asked. “We can’t change the past. We’ve got to live for right now and hope that any mistakes we may have made, that we won’t repeat them. At least that’s how I’ve managed to go on.”

“Yes.” Cora sighed. “There is only right now.” She placed her hands firmly on the ground beside her. “And right now I just want to sit here.”

Michael got quiet as Cora drew into herself. He waited and watched her silhouette against the night. Her locked hair was majestic, a mighty crown on her head, and, finally, after an indeterminable amount of time, Michael heard Cora softly say, “I’m glad to be back, Michael, but somehow I...I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I’ve lost the feeling of belonging.” “Give yourself a little more time, Cora. You’ve only been home now for two weeks. It’s going to take time.” “Maybe,” Cora replied. “But it might be just that I’ve changed so much that...or that we lost so much...” Cora looked down.

“Let’s not talk about it.” Michael moved closer to her. “It’s not going to do any good to talk about it.”
“But what can we do? What?” Even in the dark he could see the plea in her eyes.

Michael put his arm around Cora’s shoulders.

“If a year away from the place that I was born, a place that held so many memories that I couldn’t stand coming back, didn’t do any good, what will?” Cora trembled.

“You’re cold,” Michael said.

“No,” Cora replied. “At least not on the outside.” He placed both arms around her. Cora leaned against him. “What a life, Michael. What a life.”

“Yes. But we’ve got to live it.” He rubbed his face against her hair.

Cora faced him. “But how can we?” The question addressed more than what had been discussed.

“How can we not?” Michael and Cora’s eyes locked before he kissed her.

At first Cora kissed him back, but then she turned her head. “I haven’t had a man in a long time. If we go further than this, I don’t want you to think it means—” “I’ll accept it just for what it is,” Michael cut her off. “I won’t expect more than you can give me, Cora.” She weighed what he said. “I hope not.” Cora initiated the second kiss, and then they loved each other on the sand.

After Michael dropped her off, Cora entered the house quietly. She didn’t want to wake her mother or Brenda. She walked to the downstairs bathroom and flipped on the light. Cora turned to close the door, but Brenda was standing in the hall.

“I thought I heard a car door slam out front. It was getting late and I was concerned about you.”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Cora looked into Brenda’s eyes. “Michael dropped me off. He ended up going to the beach with me.”

“Oh.” Brenda’s eyes roamed over Cora’s hair. It was full of sand. “I see.”

Cora shook her locks. Sand trickled to the floor. They stood in silence before Cora said, “Thanks for thinking about me. Sleep well.”

“I hope you can do the same.” Brenda walked away.

Nebia’s Story...

“Busted,” Cynthia said. “Totally busted.”

“Yes, she was,” Erica replied. She shook her head. “How in the world did they sleep t
ogether? Cora had only been home for two weeks.”

“But she’d been gone for nearly a year.” Sheila de
fended Cora.

“So what’s that mean?” Erica asked. “That it’s okay to have sex with the guy your sister was in love with because a year had passed?”

“You didn’t say anything negative about Brenda when she was trying to get it on with Michael.”

Erica raised her shoulders. “That was different. Brenda wanted to build a life with him and have a family and—” “And all that respectable stuff,” Cynthia replied.

“See, that’s why you defended Brenda.” Cynthia made a face. “But it’s about the same thing.”

“No, it’s not.” Erica dug in.

“I think either way, this is going to be nothing but a mess,” Sheila said.

“It didn’t end up being pretty,” Nebia
replied. “Not pretty at all.”

“So what happened? Did Cora and Michael just sneak around and sleep together, trying to hide it from everybody?” Erica crossed her arms.

“No, no.” Nebia shook her head adamantly. “You really have Michael wrong. It wasn’t his intention to disrespect the Robinsons. He was a man with a good heart, a weak one—” she squinted “—but good. And it seemed the Robinsons could turn his heart on a dime.”

CHAPTER 11

Brenda forced the garbage down into the garbage can and turned back toward the house. She stopped and looked at the upper loft of their dilapidated garage. Cora had converted the uninhabitable space into a makeshift art studio.

“Cora,” Brenda mounted the rickety stairs. “Cora? You up here?”

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t you hear us calling you a little while ago?” “Not really.” Cora
dabbed more paint onto the canvas. She stepped back and examined her painting.

“Michael was here looking for you. We called back here. I don’t know how you didn’t hear us.” Brenda’s face hardened. “When you didn’t answer, we told Michael you weren’t here.”

“Oh.” Cora glanced at Brenda then she refocused on the canvas.

Brenda walked over and stood beside the painting. “What is that, Cora?”

“It’s baskets. A group of Plateau Tonga baskets. The