How to Knock a Bravebird from Her Perch : The First Novel in the Morrow Girls Series (9780985751616) (23 page)

“What y’all doing out here?”

“Waiting,” Jackie mumbled, kicking up grass with the toe of her shoe.

“Waiting for what? Nikki where’s your key?”

“I got it. We...We just thought we’d sit out here for a little while.”

“Oh.” I was a horrible mama. It was plain as day. I kept making them promise after promise that I couldn’t keep. Now this.

“Aight, baby, I gotta go. Gotta put in a few more hours.” Ricky pulled me close and pressed his lips to mine, sucking on my mouth for the whole world to see. “Mmm, now that’s what I’m talking about! Y’all be good.”

“Bye, Daddy.”

We watched as Ricky started up his car and took off toward the sunset. Could’ve been a real happy family moment if we ain’t know he was coming back. “Y’all go on inside. I gotta go get Nat.” I hurried into the street, thinking so hard I ain’t even see the car until whoever was behind the wheel slammed on their brakes.

“Mama!”

I was shaking something good. But I was still standing. I was fine. The driver hopped on out, asking if I was okay, my girls ran toward me too. I was fine, I told them. Just fine.

“You supposed to look both ways,” Mya was more annoyed than worried. “Don’t you know that? Even we know that.”

“I did look.”

“No, you didn’t. I was watching.”

“Just go on in the house! You a chile. I don’t need you telling me what I did or what I ain’t do. I’m the mama. If I say I looked then I looked. Now go.”
 

After I got Nat we went about things as usual—me in the kitchen, fixing supper and the girls running about doing one thing or another. My dress was the kind that buttoned up the front, what they were calling a shirt dress. It came with a matching belt that I’d been using to hide my condition from folks. The chicken pieces fell against the plate of flour, dusting a cloud of whiteness into the air and I was fidgeting with the belt, wishing I’d put it in a bigger hole. Then I felt a little hand tap me on the back.

“What is it, Jackie?”

“We having fried chicken?”

“Yeah.”

“Ricky like fried chicken.”

“I know.”

“That why we having it?”

“You do your homework already? Y’all just be running around here like you ain’t got nothing better to do. I guess maybe it’s time for me to give y’all some chores. When I was your age your granddaddy gave me all sorts of things to do.”

“Like what?” Jackie hopped up on one of the kitchen chairs, looking all attentive like she did whenever I talked about my daddy.

“Like...washing things.”

“Like clothes?”

“Yeah. And floors and windows and beating the dust outta the rugs and blankets. Sometimes he let me help him fix stuff too.”

“I wish he ain’t die.” Her sweet voice carried the words like they ain’t weigh no more than the wind, like it was just a simple sorta fact. “Did grandpa like Ricky?”

“Why you thinking on that?”

“Because. Grandpa was a big strong man, right? I bet he would’ve beat Ricky up real good.” She grinned from ear to ear.

“Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true, right?”

“Maybe.”

“I think he would’ve.” She nodded and then went about twirling the salt and pepper shakers that had been minding their own business on the table. “Mama, it’s okay to fight when somebody’s messing with you, right? It ain’t the same as if you started it.”

“Who told you that?”

“Nobody. I just know it. Because if you just give in all the time they gonna keep doing it. Right?”

“Maybe. Don’t you wanna go play with your sisters?”

She shook her head. I’d braided her hair into three braids that morning but only two of them was in good condition. Jackie had a bad habit of playing with the ends until they undid themselves. Drove Ricky crazy, said she looked like some hopeless chile that ain’t nobody care enough for. Once the chicken was all seasoned and floured I sat down next to her to give her my full attention. Most of the time it ain’t bother me what she did to her hair. It was just how she was.

“Mama?”

“Yeah, baby.”

“Where Heziah? When we get see him?” She must have seen how much I ain’t wanna answer that because she kept right on talking. “Because he mean to us what grandpa mean to you—he the one that talk to us and play with us and he listen...he like us. Like me. I decided he gonna be my daddy. Ricky just gonna be Ricky.”

It wasn’t how things worked. Lil’ girls ain’t get to pick their daddies but Jackie wasn’t the easiest child to convince. Her eyes stared back at me, looking just like mine. “So, when we get to see Heziah?”

“No, baby, I don’t think so.”

“Why not? Because he don’t wanna marry you?” She might as well have punched me right in the gut. The grease cracked over the chicken, calling me to it so I got up to check on it. “Mama? Daddy wanted to marry you right? Maybe it ain’t such a big deal to get married.”

“Jackie—”

“We could still be a family.”

“STOP!”
 

It was a bad day. First Ricky wanting to celebrate and Mya thinking I’m stupid, and then Jackie telling me the last thing I wanted to hear. Wasn’t no point in even thinking about what wasn’t possible. Heziah was gone. It was what was best. Him and me—couldn’t no good come from us, only pain, and possibly death. That was what I thought about when I thought of Heziah. But wasn’t no words nice enough to make her see that. She was just a kid. A kid that ain’t think her daddy liked her. Wasn’t nothing I could do about that neither. So I made up my mind to at least give her somebody to blame.

“He not coming back because I won’t let him. It ain’t him. It’s me. He love y’all. He told me himself but that don’t mean that we supposed to be together—us and him. Sometimes folks come into our lives just to give us something we need then they leave. That’s what Heziah did.”

“But—”

“But nothing. That’s what it is. Now go on and play.”

“I don’t wanna play! I want my daddy back! And…And you j-j-just scared of Ricky! But I ain’t scared and the next time my daddy call I’m gonna talk to him and I’m gonna tell him everything!”

She took off running and I was right with her. I ain’t have no plan, just knew I couldn’t leave it like that. She was halfway up the stairs when I got to the first step. I wasn’t never no runner so my legs were ready to give out by the fifth or sixth stair. My arms pumped at my sides, making me fight for a good-sized breath. But that peaceful hot air just wasn’t enough. Then a shoe went flying through the air, whizzing by my head and I couldn’t believe it. My baby would never do that to me. Never wanna cause me no harm. Just the thought tripped me up so bad I stumbled on a stair and finally grabbed the banister for balance. I was almost to the top. I actually thought it was a good thing. Thought “I’m almost there.” Thought I was safe with the banister. What a stupid woman I was, leaning up against the tired old thing. Before I knew it, it started to crack. The wood split right down to the base of the stairs, with me still clinging to the top of it like a damn fool. On the way down I remember thinking back on the days when Ricky used to carry me up the stairs because they were so steep. I’d forgotten how steep they actually were but it all came crashing back to me. All the way down.

“I’
M
SORRY
, M
AMA
.” J
ACKIE
cried from some corner of the hallway. “I sorry, I sorry, I sorry.”

I couldn’t see her through all the pain that was running through my body. The smell of burnt fried chicken was lying just outta my grasp. It was all a fog. A painful mess of a fog. Couldn’t even tell where it was coming from, the pain. One minute it was my back then it was my arm, just...everywhere. And even though the floor was hard like I’d never felt hard before, I ain’t wanna leave it. Ain’t wanna move an inch.

“Mama?” Nikki was crying over me like it was my funeral or something. “Mama?”

“I’m okay. You gotta call...”

“Daddy? Should I call daddy?”

“No. No...” The fog was getting deeper and so dark. Blinking ain’t do no good but I kept at it anyway. Until it got so that my eyelids were too heavy for all that.
 

From then on I couldn’t see nothing, just hear their voices. Nikki telling Nat to keep away from me. “Don’t touch” she said. And then voices of folks I ain’t know, fussing over me. Then a blinding light, too white to be the sun.

"Y
EAH
...I’
M
UP
AT
the hospital now. Not tonight. Probably tomorrow. Yeah...Alright. Bye.”
 

He ain’t look like his usual self. Ricky hung up the phone and rocked himself back and forth on the edge of the chair with his hands clasped together just under his chin. He looked some sorta sad or worried, maybe both. But he was quiet. So quiet I almost ain’t believe it was really him. Then he looked at me.
 

“You awake? I mean you awake. I’ll go and...And get somebody.” Then he was gone.

His shoes squeaked all the way down the hall like he’d been jumping around in puddles and the plastic was soaked through. Squeaking against the shiny white floor of the hospital. I remembered what happened like it’d just happened but the pain was almost gone. Vanished. Almost. And I felt...alone like I never felt before.

“Mrs. Morrow, I’m Dr. Sares. Do you mind if I take a look at you?”

Ricky was leaning up against the doorway, both hands in his pockets, staring out into the hall. He couldn’t even look at me. Why he’d want to? I was stupid and weak and I ain’t need no doctor to tell me nothing. I knew.

“Mrs. Morrow, you had a pretty bad fall. Do you remember?” He sighed softly, touching my shoulder as the first few tears slid down my cheeks. “We did everything we could but the baby didn’t make it. Your body can naturally dispose of...um...or we can help it along. How would you like to proceed?”

Dispose. Like my baby was trash. The words were right there, right on the tip of my tongue but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t make them sound like anything. The doctor ain’t seem to mind, though, like he expected as much.

“Shh, there there now. You can still have other children. You’re very lucky that you weren’t badly injured yourself. That kind of a fall...Well you could’ve had more than just a dislocated shoulder. Now, we gave you some painkillers so you shouldn’t be in too much pain, but I’m going to write you a prescription anyway.”

Ricky turned at the sound of him ripping some paper from a pad but he ain’t move from the doorway. He hated me that much, I could tell.
 

“Do you have any questions?” He glanced over his shoulder at Ricky but neither one of us said a word. “Well, if you change your minds...”

Once the doctor was gone, Ricky finally came over to me. Put his hand on my bad shoulder, softly tracing the edge of the sling they’d put me in.
 

“I’m sorry,” came out before anything else could even be thought up. “Ricky?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m...I’m so sorry.”

He nodded. “What happened, Pecan?”

“I fell.”

“No shit. You don’t think I can see that? What the fuck? I ain’t asking you—I’m asking how did you fall? You knew the banister was loose. Everybody did. You couldn’t be no more careful than this?”

“I tried...”

“You tried?”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“What that mean? Hmm? What, you decided to take a rest as you was walking up the stairs?”

“No.”

“No? Then what? Tell me. I gotta know.” Ricky stood over me, that crazy look in his eye, but this time he was damn close to crying. I had never seen Ricky cry. “You gonna tell me or what?”

“It was...it was just an accident.”

“Pecan—” His fist flexed in my face just as a nurse walked by the room. As angry and hurt as he was, he got it under control right then. Breathing all heavy, he tried to make his face look like a normal man’s. “Look, just tell me. I ain’t gonna get mad. Just tell me. I got a right to know. He...he my son, you know? He my boy.”

“He my boy too.” The words ain’t sound right coming out my mouth but it was true. I’d finally gotten around to claiming him and he wasn’t there no more.