Mama (10 page)

The kitchen was full of smoke; the table was covered with overflowing ashtrays and bowls of potato chips and dip, and everybody had glasses next to their elbows. Ashes and crumbs were all over the floor, but Mildred didn't mind because they were having so much fun and nobody was keeping track of time. By eleven o'clock, they were all damn near drunk, but hell, it was Friday night, and Mildred had taken a nerve pill earlier, so she was feeling extra mellow.

The kids were still up, so she decided to put them to work. "Freda, put your mama's record on, would you? And Bootsey, come in here and empty these ashtrays. And bring us a bowl of ice while you're up. What you bid, sucker?" she said to Zeke, who was so high he could hardly put his hand in order. He never could hold his liquor, and Geraldine wasn't much better. She kept missing when she spit her snuff in the can she had placed next to her bunioned foot.

"I bid a three no," Zeke said, and Mildred just smiled at Deadman because her hand was pretty, so pretty that after she bid, she plopped down one card at a time so that it snapped and some of them flew off the table. They made every single book. Pulled a Boston on them, which would've aggravated the hell out of Zeke and Geraldine had they been sober.

Mildred laughed. "Now, tell your mama to bring her fat behind on over here if she want to play!" At that moment, Rufus knocked on the door and walked in with another fifth of Scotch. Nancy Wilson was singing "And you don't know and you don't know and you don't know, how glad I am" in the background and Mildred started popping her fingers, singing right along with her. "Turn it up, Freda, damn, I can't even hear the thang."

"Where's that white niggah at?" Rufus asked Mildred, breaking everybody's train of thought.

"Aw, shut up, sucker," Zeke said. "Don't come in here spoiling everythang."

"That really ain't none of your business, Rufus," Mildred said. "Now if you want to play, sit your behind on down, and if you wanna run your mouth about thangs that really shouldn't concern you, you can take it back on out that door. But leave that bottle where it's sitting."

Rufus just laughed. He hadn't slept with Mildred since she'd started seeing Spooky, and that was almost six months ago. He missed her luscious body and had continued to give her money anyway. Spooky never gave Mildred a dime.

Deadman got up and let Rufus take over his hand, and he eased into the living room where he was content watching Freda sewing on the machine Mildred had finally bought her, thanks to Rufus's generosity.

What Mildred didn't know was that Spooky had been parking his white Riviera in his own driveway on the nights he wasn't with her. Nobody bothered to tell Mildred, either. They assumed she already knew, and besides, nobody really wanted to get cussed out for meddling in the business of a woman who had such a distaste for it. All Mildred knew was that some nights Spooky just didn't come by, but when he did, he more than made up for it.

By two o'clock in the morning, everybody was too drunk to bid anything and Mildred put them out, including Deadman, who had been sleeping on Money's cot. The television was still on, even though the girls had finally gone to bed, and Money was spending the night with Chunky and Big Man. Only one more to go, Mildred thought, when she looked at Rufus.

"Do I gotta go too, Milly?" he asked, trying to act sober and busying himself by picking up glasses, throwing away bottles and dumping dirty ashtrays. Mildred looked at Rufus and frowned. He looked even more mangy than usual. "Yeah, you too. I ain't in the mood, Rufus." He took no for an answer like any beggar who didn't get a dime the first time but knew that sooner or later he would.

***

Spooky invited Mildred to Niagara Falls for a long weekend. Said he wanted to talk to her about something. Of course, the kids didn't like this idea one bit, their mama going away for an entire weekend, with a man, and Spooky at that. They thought he might try to throw her over a bridge since she still wasn't giving him any money. But Mildred didn't care what they thought and packed her suitcase faster than she could remember what she had put in it. This would be her first time leaving the kids this long.

By the time they reached Windsor, Spooky's desire for Mildred overpowered his urgency to get where he was going, and they pulled into a motel for a few hours. By the time they reached St. Catherines, the mixture of satisfaction and foreign air had become such a natural intoxication for Mildred that she wasn't able to contain her excitement. She sounded like a little girl, the way she oohed and aahed at the sights. Being someplace new gave a new keenness to everything. She was so exhilarated she thought she must not have heard right when Spooky told her the bad news—that he had gone back to his wife.

Freda was fourteen years old now, old enough to watch the kids and the house while Mildred was away, and Mildred had given her explicit instructions. No company, other than Deadman, who was supposed to stop by to fix a leak under the kitchen sink. Since Saturday was Crook's birthday, Mildred had left them twenty dollars, ten of which they were to use to buy his present. She had warned Freda to make sure they used every dime of it on him, and call to make sure he would be home. They had rarely gone by the shack he and Miss Ernestine had moved into; they didn't like her because she didn't like them. Ernestine never said two words to them when they did see her. And when they went by to visit, she and Crook were both usually drunk or asleep. Sometimes, when they saw their daddy on the street, the kids merely waved to him like they would anyone else. Money didn't even seem to miss him any more.

They bought Crook a tie and some cufflinks from the K-Mart that had just opened up next to the brand new McDonald's hamburger take-out. Totaled $4.93. They spent the rest of the money on submarine sandwiches and grape pop.

When they went by his house to drop off the presents, the door was open and flies were buzzing over plates of food that looked like they'd been sitting out for days. They opened the screen door when no one answered, then peeked in the bedroom. As they had expected, Crook was asleep, drunk, right next to Miss Ernestine. An empty bottle of liquor was on the dresser. The two of them were spread-eagled across the bed, half naked and drooling all over each other. Freda dropped the unwrapped gifts on the black-and-white TV set, made an about-face, and they all ran out of the house.

She decided to make fried chicken and pork-n-beans for dinner, and afterward told the kids they could have the privilege of going roller-skating at the McKinley Auditorium with six of the other ten dollars Mildred had left them to spend on entertainment. Freda loved the power she had playing mama. She didn't want to go skating because, just like Mildred, it was rare that she was alone and had time to herself. She wanted to finish making a wraparound skirt she was working on with no interruptions. A horn honked and the kids ran out to the car. Their Aunt Curly Mae told Freda she would have them home by ten.

Freda was sitting in the living room, sewing, listening to Della Reese, and puffing on a cigarette like she'd been smoking twenty years instead of just one. When she heard a knock at the kitchen door, she jumped up and smashed the butt out so fast that she burned her fingertips. But it was only Deadman. She hollered for him to come in.

"Hi, Freda," he said, slurring and smiling, showing off his bright pink gums. "I came to fix the pipe." Deadman sounded like he was drunk, though it was rare that Freda had ever seen him drink more than a glassful. Once in a while he followed in his brothers' footsteps and got drunk with them, but hardly ever in public.

"I know, I know." She waved him in. "You know where the sink is, Dead. Just don't come in here bothering me, 'cause I'm doing something." Freda unbent her cigarette, brushed it off, and lit it back up. Deadman wasn't nobody, she thought, as she inhaled and blew smoke out through her nose.

"Where the hell is everybody?" he yelled from the kitchen.

"Roller-skating. How come you didn't go tonight?" she asked.

"I didn't feel like skating," he said. Deadman usually hung out with the teenage crowd because grown-ups didn't take him seriously.

It was getting dark, so Freda turned on the light in the living room. Ten minutes later, Deadman came in and claimed he couldn't fix the pipe because he didn't have the right tools. But Freda didn't remember him carrying any when he came in. The next thing she knew he had flopped down on the couch near her chair. She sucked her teeth and made sure she kept her back turned to him. He still didn't take the hint. He pulled his pint bottle from his back pocket and took two long swigs. He could hardly sit up straight, but he managed to pull himself to a standing position. Then he crept up behind her and slid his arms around her neck.

"Are you crazy, Deadman?" she yelled. "Get your fuckin' hands offa me, niggah." Cussing came as easy for Freda as it did for Mildred, and if Deadman had been any drunker, he might have mistaken her for Mildred and left her alone. But he wasn't that drunk. "Ah, come on, Freda," he said, "let me have one little kiss. I'll give you five dollars. Just one little kiss."

"I don't want your money, Deadman, and you better get your fuckin' hands offa me before I scream." Freda tried to sound sure of herself but she knew that where this house was situated, no one would hear her no matter how loud she screamed. She got scared. It was only nine o'clock and the kids wouldn't be home for at least another hour. Sometimes Curly Mae took them to the Dairy Queen afterward. Lord, she hoped tonight wasn't one of those nights. She tried to squirm out of the chair but Deadman had tightened his grip around her neck, making it hard for Freda to breathe.

"You know I love you, Freda." he said. "I've always loved you. Since you was ten years old I loved you. I done waited all this time. All this time." Deadman didn't notice that Freda had carefully picked up a seam ripper with her right hand and when he tried to lift her from the chair by her neck, she jabbed it into his stomach. Then Deadman got angry.

"Just for that, I'm not gon' be nice. I
was
gon' be nice, but you act just like your old sassy-ass mama, don't you?" He grabbed the seam ripper, threw it on the floor, and slung Freda onto the couch. She was terrified, immobilized. Deadman pulled her slacks down past her trembling knees and told her that if she moved he would tell Mildred he saw her smoking and that he knew she'd been stealing from K-Mart, and then he would spread a rumor all over South Park that she had given him some without his even asking for it. Freda's frail body shook in spasms as he pulled his pants down and revealed his giant penis. She had never seen a grown man's penis before, only Money's, and that was when he was six years old. Freda was so frightened by what she knew he was going to do with it that she fainted.

A moment later, when she came to, Deadman was on top of her, fumbling with himself and pressing his body down hard against hers. Freda could feel his heart pounding and then saw his ugly face coming toward hers. Deadman's chapped lips scraped her mouth. This was a kiss. His breath smelled like garbage, but Freda couldn't move. He thrust himself inside her, but before he could fully penetrate her, Freda spit in his face. He pulled away, and then he came all over Mildred's orange couch. Then he zipped his pants up and left, satisfied.

Finally, Freda opened her eyes, but she couldn't move. She didn't want to move. She lay on the couch, staring at a button on one of the cushions. It was almost ten o'clock. She finally forced herself up and walked slowly to the bathroom, where she urgently washed between her legs, then tried to do knee bends to get rid of the stiffness. She hurt. She felt embarrassed and humiliated. Freda had always thought Deadman was a good friend of the family's. And just look at what he'd done to her. She took baby steps toward the living room, where she saw the wet spots on her mama's couch. She got a soapy dishcloth from the kitchen and tried to wash out the stains as best she could.

She was frightened when she heard the kids running up the steps, slamming the screen door behind them.

"Guess what, Freda, I learned how to skate backwards tonight," Bootsey said.

"Aw, she did not," Angel protested. "She just barely managed to turn around. I'm the one who can skate in this family, admit it, heffa."

"Oh, Freda, Money walked home with Big Man and Little Man," Bootsey told her. "We told him you was gon' be mad, but he said he was gon' walk anyway."

Freda tried to sound like she was upset about it. "I'll just tell Mama, when she gets home."

Doll went to turn on the television, and the rest of the girls followed her. Before they sat down on the couch, Bootsey saw it was wet.

"Oooooh, you spilled something on the couch, Freda! You know what Mama told us about eating and drinking in here. You gon' get it if it don't come out."

"It ain't nothing but some Kool-Aid and it'll come out. Besides, Mama ain't here. And when she ain't here, who's the mama around here?"

"You are, Miss Smarty, you are."

After Spooky had fucked Mildred's brains out and then told her he was going back to his wife, Mildred couldn't keep her food down for three days. She had lost, she thought. For the first time in her life, she had lost. She bathed her swollen eyes and made up her mind that this would be the last time she would open up her heart so eagerly and generously, only to end up feeling up like it was a fresh-cut wound that some man had poured salt into. No. Hell no. Her heart was made only to pump blood and keep her going. And that's exactly what it was going to do from now on.

"I'm marrying Rufus," she told the kids.

They just laughed, until they saw Mildred wasn't joking.

"Rufus, Mama? Come on, old stupid smelly ugly Rufus?" Freda asked.

"He may be stupid, and he may stink sometimes, but he ain't ugly and he treats me nice and keeps some money in his pocket at all times. He can help me pay these bills. It takes oil to heat up this house, and who you think been giving me y'all lunch money all these months? Who you think bought you that damn sewing machine that you ain't been using lately, girl? Huh? And Money, boy, where you thank that bike you ride all over town come from? God? Not to mention all the steak and pork chops and sausage y'all been eating around here. Ever since I got laid off, y'all know we been having a rough time, but you never once thought about where all this money was coming from, did you. Them welfare checks and food stamps don't stretch to buy no steaks. Besides, we need a man around this damn house. Deadman never did fix that pipe, and where the hell has he been anyway? I ain't seen him in damn near a month."