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Authors: Mary Monroe

Mama Ruby (6 page)

BOOK: Mama Ruby
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CHAPTER 11
S
IMONE’S BEDROOM
,
WITH A WINDOW FACING THE OUTHOUSE
in her backyard just a few yards away, was not the ideal place for a baby to be born. But Simone had given birth seven times already in this same gloomy room. And, she decided, if it was good enough for her, it was good enough for Ruby.
Even though it was the largest bedroom in her shabby house, it was a small room with cheap, mismatched furnishings. Simone was a hoarder, so there were at least a dozen medium-size cardboard boxes stacked five high along the walls. Some contained items that should have been discarded years ago: old clothes, old newspapers and magazines, broken toys, cracked plates, and even the steering wheel from a car that Simone had owned ten years ago.
There were large brown paper bags filled with more junk on both sides of Simone’s lumpy bed. One contained a dried-out ham bone that she kept forgetting to feed to Hairy James, her nine-year-old sheep dog.
There was a long, deep indentation in the middle of the bed’s mattress, evidence that Simone still had a vigorous sex life. There was a wobbly nightstand on the side of the bed by the window. On the stand was a kerosene lamp, an open pint bottle of whiskey, a dog-eared magazine with a lurid cover, an empty jar with plum-colored lipstick on its rim, and crumbs from the chocolate cake that Simone had baked for Othella’s party. A large plaid chair, its seat stained with various liquids including menstrual blood and gravy, sat next to the footstool that Othella occupied at the foot of the bed.
“I knew somethin’ was fishy by the way this girl’s been stumblin’ around ever since she got here. I seen her run into a wall a little while ago, but I just figured she was a little drunk,” Simone told Othella in a nervous voice. “What’s wrong with you, Othella? Why is Ruby here in the shape she’s in? What if that fall in the kitchen had killed her? We don’t need another peacemaker snoopin’ around here askin’ a bunch of nosy questions. And I don’t want another dead body in my house like that other time.” Last December, one of Simone’s elderly men friends had suffered a massive heart attack and died in the middle of making love to her. It had been an embarrassment and a major inconvenience for Simone. Dead bodies were too disruptive, especially in her bed. She didn’t want to go through that again anytime soon. She glared at Othella. “I ought to whup your behind for lettin’ this gal come here tonight in her condition!”
“Mama, I swear I didn’t know till now that Ruby was pregnant,” Othella defended. “Honest to God, I—”
“Shet up!” Simone interrupted. “Do you mean to tell me that you and Ruby Jean been runnin’ around together every day all this time, and you didn’t know she was pregnant? You blind, stupid, or both?”
Othella blinked and looked at Ruby sprawled on the bed. Then she looked back to her mother and shook her head. “I didn’t know. She was already big. I just thought she was a little bit bigger than she normally was, because she’s been drinkin’ so much more beer lately than she used to. Look at her, Mama. She don’t really look like you did all them times you was pregnant, now does she? Her stomach ain’t even pokin’ out that far.”
Before Simone could respond, somebody pounded on the door. “Mama, can we eat the rest of them ribs in the kitchen?” O’Henry, Othella’s twin brother, yelled as he jiggled the doorknob.
“Get away from my door, boy!” Simone screamed, covering Ruby’s mouth with her hand to keep her from screaming.
The door creaked open but before the boy could enter, Othella sprang up off the footstool and ran to the door and slammed it shut.
“What y’all doin? Is Ruby Jean in there?” O’Henry asked.
“Get back to that party, knucklehead!” Othella shouted. “Go change the record on the Victrola.”
There was a moment of silence before O’Henry spoke again. This time in a nervous voice: “Mama, there’s some nasty lookin’ bloody stuff on the floor. All the way from the kitchen to . . . uh . . . right here outside your door,” he announced. “Y’all know how blood makes my skin crawl.”
“Blood? Uh, it’s mine. My monthly snuck up on me,” Othella offered.
“Again? Already? Wasn’t you all crampy and laid up last week? I thought y’all females only went through that nasty mess once a month!”
“It did come last week, but these things don’t always follow no time line. Now you get back to that party and change the record on the Victrola like I told you, boy. I’ll be back out there directly. I’ll mop up that blood before I go to bed,” Othella told her brother.
Instead of leaving, O’Henry remained at the door, shuffling his feet and wondering what his sister and their mother were up to. “Is Ruby Jean in there? I want her to teach me that jitterbug dance.”
“Yeah, she is in here! Uh—she’s helpin’ me pick out another frock. I got some blood on the britches I had on when my monthly came,” Othella said, becoming more agitated by the second.
“Ruby Jean is helpin’ you pick out another frock . . . in Mama’s room?” O’Henry asked with a snicker.
Simone beckoned for Othella to move closer to her. As soon as Othella reached her mother’s side, Simone grabbed her hand and used it to cover Ruby’s mouth. “Make sure she don’t holler so somebody can hear her. I don’t want nobody to think we beatin’ on her or nothin’ like that, up in here. We got enough mess on our hands already.” Simone wrung her hands and sprinted across the floor. She cracked open the door. She glared at her son with so much hostility that he almost jumped out of his shoes. “Boy, you get your nosy ass away from my door! Now!”
“Yessum,” O’Henry muttered, trying to look over his mother’s shoulder. “I know what y’all doin’ in there,” he sneered. “You and Othella and Ruby Jean.”
“What?” Simone barked, closing her door a few inches more.
“Y’all in there drinkin’ some of the good whiskey,” O’Henry accused with a loud belch.
“That’s right! If you want some, there’s a fresh bottle in the kitchen cabinet over the stove,” Simone told him. She quickly closed and locked the door.
“He’s gone,” Simone said in a low voice, returning to the bed. “We need to hurry this thing up. We got to get Ruby Jean out of here before him and the rest of them kids get too nosy.”
For the next five minutes, Ruby writhed in agonizing pain as the baby took its time making a complete entrance into the world.
“Hold your breath and push real hard, Ruby Jean! Push like you sittin’ on the commode doin’ your business,” Simone ordered, hovering over the bed. Ruby still wore the same dress that she had worn to the party. Simone and Othella had pushed it up around her waist and elevated her pelvis with two pillows and a folded up quilt. “That’s it . . . that’s it. Now give me one more real hard push. . . . The head’s out . . . the shoulders is comin’! It’s almost here!”
CHAPTER 12
W
ITH HER HANDS SHAKING AND COVERED IN SWEAT, OTHELLA
held Ruby down by her shoulders. There was a sudden, squishy noise as the baby popped out of Ruby’s body and slid into Simone’s anxious hands.
A few seconds after Simone had slapped the newborn baby’s behind, and gently forced open its mouth with her fingers, the baby wailed like a banshee. Othella covered the baby’s mouth with her hand to keep the other kids in the living room from hearing. She kept it there until the baby stopped crying.
As soon as Ruby realized she had finally given birth, she sat bolt upright, reaching for her baby. But before she could snatch the baby out of Simone’s arms, she passed out again.
Ruby came to less than five minutes later. Simone was standing over her with the baby wrapped up to its neck in a pink towel, all cleaned up and gazing around the room, reaching with one hand. A tiny finger grabbed one of Simone’s fingers and held on to it as if it were a lifeline. It was almost as if the baby knew and realized the grim circumstances of its birth. And it was a beautiful child, the most beautiful, most healthy-looking baby that Simone had ever seen before in her life. It had golden brown skin and large brown eyes. A lock of silky black hair spiraled down the baby’s forehead, looking like a fishhook.
“This is the most beautiful baby I ever seen in my life,” Simone said softly, tears in her eyes. “She looks like a little angel. If God created a prettier baby, He kept it for Hisself.”
“Sure enough,” Ruby agreed, gazing lovingly at the child as Simone held it close to Ruby’s face. Looking at her baby, she had to blink her eyes several times to hold back her tears of joy. She was so pleased, she was beaming with pride, just the way a new mother was supposed to. “This baby is so precious . . . and
perfect,
” she managed. Ruby’s voice was so hoarse, it sounded like she had a frog in her throat. At that moment, she was convinced that there was nothing on the planet more important to her than this baby—
her
baby. “Hand me my baby,” she ordered, grinning so hard her bloated cheeks ached. “I don’t care what happens to me now. I am goin’ to be proud to show off my baby!”
“Oh no you ain’t!” Simone snapped. She moved a few steps away, making sure that the baby was out of Ruby’s reach.
Ruby looked at Othella. She was stunned and puzzled by the peculiar look on her face. Othella looked like she was in a hypnotic trance. Ruby returned her attention back to Simone. “What do you mean by that?” she asked. She gazed at Othella again from the corner of her eye, her heart beating like a bongo drum. Her insides, or what was left of them, had formed a tight, painful knot. “What do your mama mean, Othella?” Ruby panicked. It felt like she was losing her breath. She shook her head and sucked in some of the stale air in the musty room. She was light-headed, confused, and frightened by what Simone had just said.
Instead of answering Ruby’s question, Othella turned to her mother. “Mama,” she said, stopping with a hiccup. “You tell her what me and you talked about while she was passed out.”
“Uh, I will in a minute. In the meantime, Ruby, you get a hold of yourself,” Simone advised, moving even farther away from the bed. When she bumped into the wall, she stopped and moved a few feet forward, back closer to the bed. But this time she stood at the foot where it would be harder for Ruby to reach her. “Now, Ruby Jean. Don’t you go gettin’ attached to this baby. The sooner you forget about this baby, the better.”
Ruby’s mouth dropped open and she stared at Simone like she had suddenly got naked in front of her. “Woman, what’s wrong with you?” she asked. “Forget about my baby? What . . . why . . . I can’t believe my ears. What makes you think I am goin’ to forget about my own baby?” A strange eerie laugh shot out of Ruby’s mouth, a laugh that she couldn’t control. She laughed for several moments before a serious look appeared on her face. For a split second, she looked and felt like a very old, very tired woman. She didn’t know what to think. She even thought that maybe she was dreaming, because everything seemed so unreal. “Look here,” she continued, glancing from Othella to Simone. “I don’t know what y’all cookin’ up in this room, but I ain’t swallowin’ none of it.”
“Be sensible, Ruby Jean. This baby was a mistake and you know it. You, of all girls, know your folks ain’t about to accept you gettin’ yourself into a mess like this. But don’t worry. I’m goin’ to handle everything,” Simone insisted with a vigorous nod. The baby began to squirm and whimper, and was about to cry some more. Simone stopped that from happening by gently squeezing and rocking the baby in her arms.
Ruby was glad and grateful that Simone and Othella had come to her aid, but she was not happy about the way they were acting and talking now. It had to be the alcohol they’d drunk, or they had both gone crazy at the same time. There was no other acceptable reason for them to think that she was going to let them tell her what to do with her baby, Ruby told herself.
“What in the world . . . ? This is
my
baby, y’all. I can do whatever I want with it.” Ruby attempted to rise again. “Now stop talkin’ crazy. Both of y’all,” she ordered, her head swiveling from side to side to look from Othella to Simone. Her gaze landed on the top of the baby’s head, and she managed to smile. “Now tell me, is it a girl or is it a boy? Let me hold it!”
“It’s a girl,” Othella announced in a tired, hollow voice. Her face looked like it had turned to stone. It took a lot of effort for her to make her lips move again. “It . . . she looks a lot like me.”
Ruby was pleased to hear that. Her next thought was that Othella’s brother Ike was the baby’s father, like she had hoped.
Simone was thinking the same thing. With hesitation, she placed the infant in Ruby’s arms, but she remained close by in case Ruby dropped her. Ruby was, and had always been, as clumsy as an ox. How she managed to be so agile on the dance floor was a mystery to Simone. It would be just like her to drop the baby on her head. “This young’un looks like all of my girl babies,” Simone said with a grunt. “But that don’t mean nothin’. Even though I
suspect
you and my boy Ike been sneakin’ around doin’
somethin’
nasty, this baby looks like that Peterson’s boy’s sisters, too. He could be the daddy. What I want to know is, how come you didn’t tell nobody you had a pig in your poke?”
“I . . . I was . . . I . . . see,” Ruby stuttered. “I was goin’ to,” she said in a very small, very nervous voice. She was unable to take her eyes off the baby’s face.
“When? You been walkin’ around with this bun in your oven for nine months! Exactly
when
was you goin’ to tell somebody?” Simone demanded, tugging the baby girl out of Ruby’s arms so hard and fast,
she
almost dropped her.
Ruby stared at Simone with her mouth hanging open again. She wanted to punch this bitch in the nose, but she knew that that was the last thing she needed to do. She still needed Simone’s help. “I just found out for sure myself tonight!” Ruby boomed. Her voice suddenly got low and shaky. “I didn’t even know I was pregnant till tonight,” she lied, her eyes looking at the top of the baby’s head again. She was too weak to fight with Simone, and too concerned about her child to risk her being injured in a tussle. For now, she had to remain as calm as she possibly could. For the first time tonight, she wished that she had not come to the party. If she had given birth in her own bedroom like she had thought she would, with her bedroom window facing her mother’s impressive flower garden, she wouldn’t be in the mess she was in now. However, she realized that if she had given birth at home, she might have been in an even bigger mess.
Ruby had to admit to herself that she was probably better off in Simone’s house under the present circumstances. At least Simone and Othella weren’t calling her names and threatening to beat her the way she thought her parents would probably be doing by now. She bowed her head submissively and spoke without looking up. “Let me hold and hug my baby again. I should probably be givin’ her some of this milk in my titties anyway. I love her already.”
“Gal, didn’t I just tell you to forget about this baby?” Simone snarled, slapping Ruby’s hand. “Shame! Shame! SHAME! You know your daddy would give birth to a baby hisself, if he knowed you just had one. And your poor mama! Oh my Lord in heaven! Sister Upshaw would up and die if she knowed what you—a preacher’s daughter—done! You know how hysterical and frantic y’all holy rollers can get. Especially your folks. They are unpredictable, too. You and me both know that your folks could either beat you into the ground or comfort you for a predicament like this. My guess is that they’ll beat you into the ground first and comfort you later. That’s if you still alive after the beatin’. I know you ain’t forgot how that Hardy girl almost died from the whuppin’ her daddy laid on her when she fooled around and got herself pregnant last year. Be reasonable, girl.”
Simone was right. Ruby knew how hysterical and frantic her parents could get. She also knew how unpredictable they were in some situations. She could imagine her father flying into a rage and tearing down the house with his bare hands if he walked into her bedroom and saw her giving birth. Or her mother fainting and falling to the floor, breaking her hip like the time she’d thought one of her daughters was thinking about divorcing her husband.
Now that she’d had more time to think about it, and the few other things that Simone had pointed out, Ruby wondered how she could have given birth in her bedroom by herself the way she had planned to.
What was I thinking?
she asked herself. Simone’s house was bad, but if she’d given birth at home, it might have been a catastrophe.
“Well, my daddy and my mama is goin’ to know now. I got to go home tonight, and I got to carry my baby home with me. I already got my story worked out. I just hope they go for it—and let me tell it before they get all crazy on me.” Ruby paused and tried to organize her thoughts. But her mind was spinning in so many different directions, she couldn’t think straight. “I need to be home in time, so I can straighten everything out before our church revival meetin’ tomorrow mornin’. I’m goin’ to tell my daddy, and everybody else, that I got raped!” Ruby couldn’t hide the desperation in her voice. “I’m goin’ to say I got jumped and raped by that hook-hand man that broke loose from the chain gang a while back. The one that they say was so mean that he’d be a danger to anybody he came in contact with—especially females on account of he was in prison for raping a few. Well, I was the unlucky female he snuck up on, as I was on my way to choir practice. He threatened to beat me, and gouge out my eyes with that hook hand of his if I didn’t let him have his way with me. He said if I told on him, he’d burn down my daddy’s house—with us in it. They never caught that maniac, so it ain’t like he’ll come out and deny it! Besides, he’s a Cajun, and this baby looks like she could be half Cajun!” She was convinced that if her tall tale didn’t keep her parents from going crazy on her, nothing would.
“Ruby Jean, that story might not work. Your folks might not even give you time to get it all out before they light into you. For one thing, that convict with the hook hand broke loose two years ago, way before you got pregnant. He wasn’t crazy enough to hang around this state. The newspaper said he was spotted in Arizona around the time you would have got pregnant,” Othella pointed out.
“But my story
could
work.” There was a pleading look on Ruby’s face. “I know it could!” She was frantic. She said the first thing that popped into her head next. “There’s plenty of other maniacs on the loose around here, so I could say that it was one of them that raped me!”
Othella shook her head. “Only a fool would buy that foot-long lie. And your folks ain’t fools. The bottom line is, you can’t go home with no baby tonight. Me and Mama, we got a plan, see. And, I have a feelin’ you ain’t goin’ to like it.” Othella paused and turned to Simone. “Tell her, Mama.”
BOOK: Mama Ruby
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