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Authors: Ernest Hill

BOOK: It's All About The Moon When The Sun Ain't Shining
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Chapter Twenty
I
held my face straight ahead and guided the truck lumberingly through the streets just outside Omenita's neighborhood. It was a little after five and though the traffic on the main highway had lightened considerably, the narrow neighborhood streets were still busy with playing children and a few tired pedestrians trying to make it home after a hard day's work. I came to Jade Avenue. And once I was near Omenita's house, I pulled to the side of the road and stopped. And as I did, I could not escape the fact that I was still haunted by questions that I could not answer. And because I could not answer them I was ill at ease and confused. Why was Gerald back here? And why had Omenita gone out with him? Perhaps there was an explanation. But for the life of me, I could not come up with one.
Outside, I jumped the small drainage ditch and made my way toward the house. And when I was on the porch, I paused briefly before knocking. I was beginning to stress again. She was home. Her car was parked next to the house. But what would I say? What could I say? I took a deep breath, then raised my hand and knocked. The door opened and I saw Omenita staring at me through the half-opened door. Instantly, her eyes narrowed.
“What do you want?” she snapped.
“To talk,” I said.
“I don't want to talk to you,” she said.
She tried to push the door shut but I lunged forward and caught it with my hand. Incensed, I stared back at her.
“Why are you acting like this?” I asked.
“Why don't you quit bothering me?”
“Don't mean to bother you,” I said. “Just need to talk. That's all.”
“There's nothing to talk about.”
“May I come in?” I asked her. “It's cold out here.”
“No,” she said, and when she did, she stepped out onto the stoop and pulled the door shut. I tried to look past her but she blocked my view.
“Why are you acting like this?” I asked her again.
She didn't answer. Then suddenly it dawned on me.
“He's here,” I said, “isn't he?”
I stepped toward the door and she stepped in front of me.
“Maurice,” she said, “I don't want any trouble. You hear?”
Why was she protecting him? I felt myself becoming angrier.
“What is he doing at your house?”
“Keep your voice down,” she said. “I'm warning you.”
“Answer my question,” I said.
“I mean it, Maurice.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“You made your choice,” she said, “and now I've made mine.”
“What choice?” I asked her.
“It's over,” she said. “That's what choice.”
“You don't mean that,” I said.
“Don't I?” she said, then paused. “Look! Gerald asked me to go away with him.”
“What!” I said.
“Keep your voice down,” she said again. “I mean it.”
“Omenita,” I said, “what is this all about?”
“He's going back to Texas on Sunday,” she said. “And I'm going with him.”
“You can't be serious.”
“Can't I?” she said, then paused and looked at me.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I asked.
“I'm not doing anything to you,” she said.
“I thought you loved me.”
“I do love you,” she said, “but I love me too.”
“What's that suppose to mean?”
“It's always been about you, Maurice. Well, as of now, I'm gon' do what's best for me. I waited, Maurice. Just like I said I would. But you went back on your word. And now I don't trust you anymore.”
“Why are you acting like this?” I asked.
“That's right,” she said, “go ahead and blame everything on me.”
“I'm not blaming you,” I said. “I just want to give us a better life. Why can't you see that? Why?”
“Maurice, stop it,” she said.
“I don't understand,” I said.
“I got to go,” she said.
“But—”
“But nothing,” she said.
“Don't be like this.”
“I got to go,” she said again.
“Just like that?”
“Just like that,” she said.
“I can't believe this,” I said.
“Well, Maurice, what do you want me to do?”
“Talk to me,” I said.
“I'm tired of talking,” she said.
“Do you love him?” I asked.
“That's none of your business.”
“Do you love him?” I asked her again. “Do you love him like you love me?”
“I got to go,” she said. She turned to leave. But I stopped her.
“Why are you doing this to us?”
“Me!” she said. “You're blaming me!”
“You're the one walking away,” I said. “Aren't you?”
“What choice do I have?”
“You could stand by me,” I said.
“And you could keep your word,” she said.
“Don't be like this,” I said.
“Maurice, I'm leaving.”
“No,” I said. “Wait.”
“For what?” she asked.
“I don't want to lose you.”
“It's too late,” she said. “You already have.”
“Don't say that,” I said. “Please, don't say that.”
“I've made up my mind,” she said. “I'm going to Texas with Gerald.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked.
“I need to get on with my life,” she said. “That's why.”
“But you don't even know him,” I said. “This doesn't make sense. It doesn't make sense at all.”
“I do know him,” she said.
“How could you?” I asked. “He's been in Texas all of this time.”
“We have a history,” she said, “or have you forgotten?”
“That was a long time ago,” I said.
“Hasn't been that long,” she said.
“Hasn't it?” I asked.
“I'm not going to argue with you, Maurice.”
“People change. That's all I'm saying. Over the years people change.”
“He hasn't changed,” she said.
“How do you know?”
“He came back for me, didn't he?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I need to move on,” she said again.
“This doesn't make any sense,” I said.
“I'm going back inside.”
She turned to leave but I stopped her.
“Do you still love him?” I asked her.
“I don't know,” she said.
“You don't know?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe,” I said.
“Look,” she said. “I don't know what I feel.”
“But you do feel something?”
“Yes,” she said. “I feel something.”
“I thought you loved me,” I said again.
“I do love you,” she said.
“Then I don't understand this,” I said.
“Maurice, I can't wait for you,” she said. “Not anymore. And that's all there is to it. Why can't you understand that?”
“Don't do this,” I said. I reached into my pocket and removed the ring then I extended it to her. “Please, take the ring back,” I begged her. “Please.”
“No,” she said. “I can't.”
“Please,” I said. “Please.”
“No.”
“Why not?” I asked her.
“I can't wait three more years to be your wife,” she said. “I just can't. Now, I have to go. He's in there and I'm being rude.”
She turned to go back inside.
“Omenita!”
“No,” she said. “I can't and I won't.” I saw her grab the doorknob and just as she was about to turn it, I spoke again.
“You won't have to,” I said.
She hesitated and looked back at me.
“What?”
“I won't go,” I said.
“You won't go where?”
“To law school,” I said. “I won't go. We can get married just like we planned. Just don't go away with him. Baby, please don't go.”
“How do I know you're telling me the truth?”
“I am,” I said. “I swear.”
“So, you're ready to marry me?”
“Yes,” I said.
“When?”
“As soon as I graduate.”
“No,” she said. “I don't want to wait.”
“But—”
“I want to do it now.”
“Now!”
“Yes,” she said. “As soon as we can get a license.”
“But—”
“It's either now or never.”
“You don't mean that.”
“Yes,” she said. “I do.”
“If I agree, will you take the ring back?”
“Yes, I'll take it back.”
“And you'll tell him to leave?”
“I'll tell him to leave.”
“Right now?” I asked.
“Right now,” she said.
I paused again.
“Exactly how soon is soon?” I asked her.
“Thursday,” she said. “We can get the license on Monday. Then we'll have to wait seventy-two hours before the justice of the peace will marry us.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“I'm sure,” she said.
“Okay,” I said.
“Okay,” she said, then extended her hand. I placed the ring on her finger and watched her push the door open and disappear inside the house.
Chapter Twenty-one
I
reached the truck and I had done no more than climbed behind the wheel when I saw the door open again and I watched Omenita and Gerald step out onto the porch. I smiled because I figured she had brought him outside to ask him to leave and with that this problem between us was now over.
My parents' home was only a couple of miles away. And when I made it home, Daddy was sitting in the living room watching the news. I approached his chair and he spoke first.
“Hi, son.”
“Hi, Daddy,” I said, then paused and looked about. “Where's Mama?”
“In the kitchen,” he said. “Why?”
“I need to talk to y'all,” I said. “If y'all not too busy.”
I saw him lean forward, then rise to his feet.
“Ain't too busy,” he said. “Let me get her for you.”
Daddy went into the kitchen, and I sat on the sofa and waited. When they returned, I stood and asked them to sit down. Daddy sat in his recliner and Mama sat on the sofa. She seemed agitated that I had gone to see Omenita again. I looked at her briefly, then at Daddy.
“Well, I talked to her,” I said.
“How did it go?” Daddy asked.
“We decided to get married.”
“Married!” I heard Mama say.
I looked at her. Her eyes were hard, angry.
“Yes, ma'am,” I said. “This coming Thursday.”
“My Lord ... my Lord,” she said.
I saw Daddy lean forward in his chair.
“Son,” he called to me, and I could hear the concern in his voice, “I thought you two were having problems.”
“We were,” I said, “but we worked them out.”
“What about this other fella?”
“What about him?” I asked.
“Did y'all talk about him?”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“And?”
“Well, he was over there,” I said.
“What?” Mama said again.
I saw Daddy looking at me and I knew he wanted an explanation.
I felt my eyes water.
“She was going to go away with him,” I said.
“Is that what she told you?”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“So you asked her to marry you?” Mama said.
“I couldn't let that happen,” I said. I felt my voice quiver.
“That girl making a fool out of you.”
“No, ma'am,” I said. “She's not.”
“She getting you to do just what she want.”
“This was my decision,” I said.
“That's what you think,” Mama said.
“What about school?” Daddy asked.
“I'm not going,” I said.
“What!” Mama said. She had been sitting but now she rose to her feet.
“I'm not going,” I said again.
“Guess that's your decision too,” she said.
“Yes, ma'am,” I said. “It is.”
“So let me get this straight,” Mama said. “You gon' give up your education for that piece of trash?”
“Don't talk about her like that,” I said.
“And don't you raise your voice to me.”
I looked at her hard.
“Son.”
“Sir.”
“Thought you had already decided.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “I had.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing,” I said. “I just changed my mind.”
“Just like that?” he said.
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“Thought your education was important to you,” he said.
“It is,” I said. “But so is Omenita. Besides, I have an education. Or have y'all forgotten I graduate in May?”
“You have a degree,” Mama said. “That gal about to educate you.”
“She's not like that,” I said.
“Son,” Daddy said, “marriage is a serious step.”
“I know,” I said.
“No,” Mama said. “You just think you know.”
“I know,” I said again.
“Down the line,” Daddy said. “Don't you think you might resent her for making you change your plans and give up on your dreams?”
“No, sir,” I said. “I don't.”
“But how do you know you won't?”
“I just know.”
“But how?”
“This was my decision,” I said. “Nobody forced it on me.”
“Hunh!” Mama said. “That's what you think.”
“No,” I said. “I know.”
“You sure?” Daddy asked.
“Sir?”
“That this is your decision.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “I'm sure.”
“Son,” Daddy said, “if this other fella wasn't in the picture, would you still be getting married instead of going to school?”
“I don't know,” I said.
“Then how can you be sure that this is your decision?”
“It's my decision,” I said.
“But how can you be sure?”
I didn't answer.
“You're giving up a lot,” Daddy said. “You realize that, don't you?”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “I do.”
“Is she worth it?”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “She is to me. I love her. I love her with all my heart.”
“What if you don't feel that way tomorrow?”
“I will,” I said.
“But what if you don't?”
“I'll just have to deal with it,” I said.
“And you willing to do that?”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “I am.”
“You're sure?”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “We can have a good life together. I know we can.”
“Okay,” Daddy said. “If that's what you want.”
“Okay!” Mama said. “What do you mean okay?”
“Audrey, it's his life,” Daddy said. “And he gon' have to live it his own way.”
I saw Mama frown angrily.
“What that boy know about life?” she asked.
“I'm not a boy,” I said. “I'm a man.”
“No,” Mama said. “You a schoolboy and that gal the teacher. And I suspect she about to teach you a lesson you ain't soon to forget.”
“It's not like that,” I said.
“It's not,” Mama said.
“No, ma'am,” I said. “It's not.”
“Boy, that gal don't respect you,” Mama said.
“Yes, she does,” I said.
“How can she,” Mama said, “when you let her walk all over you?”
“That's not true.”
“It is true,” Mama said. “And you better hear me when I tell you that gal ain't never gon' respect a man what's weak. And she ain't never gon' love a man she don't respect. And honey, you can't get no respect without a backbone.”
“Audrey!” Daddy said.
“She loves me,” I said.
“No,” Mama said. “She educating you.”
“She's not like that,” I said again.
“Y'all have a round,” Mama said. “And then her ex-boyfriend show up. Don't you think that's a little strange?”
“Just a coincidence,” I said.
“And don't you think it's strange,” Mama said, “that she gon' up and leave with somebody she ain't seen in years?”
“They have a history,” I said.
“That's what she told you?”
I nodded. “Yes, ma'am,” I said. “It is.”
“Did you ask her what kind of history?”
I paused, then squinted. I did not understand the question. “Ma'am?” I asked, confused.
“Ancient history or recent history?”
Suddenly, I understood.
“She's not like that,” I said.
“Ain't she?” Mama said.
“No,” I said. “She's not.”
“Did you ask her?”
“No, ma'am. I didn't.”
“Why not?”
I paused again. “I don't know,” I said.
“You don't know?”
“No, ma'am,” I said.” I don't.”
“Don't you think it's important?”
“I don't know,” I said.
“You don't know!” Mama said. “Gal running around on you and you don't know if it's important.”
“She's not running around,” I said.
“How do you know?” Mama asked.
“I just know.”
“Could be she making a fool out of you,” Mama said.
“I don't think so,” I said.
“History,” Mama mumbled. “She got a history alright.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“You want to know her,” Mama said. “Study her mama.”
“Audrey,” I heard Daddy say, “now that's enough.”
“It's true, Nathaniel, and you know it,” Mama said. “That gal just like Sue when Sue was her age.”
“She's going to be my wife,” I said.
“She gon' be the death of you,” Mama said. “She done already killed your dreams. What's next?”
“I've made my decision,” I said as firmly as I could. “And I don't want to talk about it anymore.”
“You gon' talk about it some more,” she said, nullifying my decision.
I looked at her and shook my head.
“No, Mama,” I said. “I'm not.”
“What about Mr. John?” Mama said.
“What about him?” I asked, frowning.
“Ain't you supposed to talk to him?”
“Yes, ma'am,” I said. “That was the plan.”
“Good,” she said. “Maybe he can talk some sense into you. Lord knows I can't.”
“I'm going to cancel,” I said.
“What?” she said angrily.
“Ain't no sense wasting Mr. John's time,” I said. “I've made up my mind. And there's nothing he or anyone else can say to change it.”
“You gon' talk to him,” she said. “You told him you was gon' talk to him and that's what you gon' do.”
“Why?” I asked her. “I've made up my mind.”
“Because I said so. That's why.”
“No, Audrey,” Daddy said, breaking his silence. “That's up to him. It's his choice, not ours.”
“Then I'll cancel,” I said.
Mama looked at me hard after I said that. I could see that she didn't like my decision. She didn't like it at all.
“Well you gon' do it yourself,” she said. “You gon' march right over there and tell him face-to-face that you backing out on your word.”
“Fine,” I said. “I'll go first thing tomorrow morning.”
“He won't be home in the morning,” Mama said.
“Well, I'll tell Danielle,” I said, “and she can tell him.”
There was silence and I saw Mama shaking her head. “This don't make no sense,” Mama said.
“Audrey,” Daddy said, “that's enough.”
“Well it don't,” she said. “Why in the world that boy want to up and throw his life away over a gal like that is beside me.”
“Well, it's his life,” Daddy said. “He got to live it his own way.”

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