Read Sullivans Island-Lowcountry 1 Online
Authors: Dorothea Benton Frank
Tags: #Fiction, #Domestic Fiction, #General, #Sagas, #Women - South Carolina, #South Carolina, #Mothers and Daughters, #Women, #Sisters, #Sullivan's Island (S.C. : Island), #Sullivan's Island (S.C.: Island)
against the wall. I darn well knew it was the latter and I was glad
Daddy was still in the yard. He didn’t support Grandma Sophie’s
theatrics.
“Usually she only eats one piece of toast, no crust, light
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butter, not margarine, and a poached egg for breakfast,” I offered
as an explanation, meeting the surprised look on Livvie’s face.
“Same thing every day and only Tipa can fix it. If I fix it, she
knows if somebody else fixed it and don’t ask me how. Then
she pitches a huge fit. Lunch is tomato soup, with one piece of
toast cut in nine squares floating in it, and plain tea. It’s because
she’s a genius.”
“What kind of fool you talking, girl?” Livvie said.
“Momma says Grandma Sophie is a genius and geniuses
have weird little habits. Grandma Sophie has more than her
share, if you ask me,” I said, thinking that if she could tell Aunt
Carol to kiss off by drinking out of Momma’s best glass, then I
could throw a little dirt on old Sophie and Tipa.
“A genius? How is she a genius?” Livvie stood now drying
her hands on a dish towel.
“She does trigonometry in her head while she sleeps,” Maggie
said.
“I heard tell of that, but do y’all think she threw that plate?”
Livvie asked.
“Yep,” said Timmy.
“She does it all the time,” said Henry. “I’d get my butt
whipped for sure if I did that.”
“It’s how it is around here, Livvie,” Maggie said. “It’s so
embarrassing I don’t ever bring my friends here. Excuse me, I’m
going to get busy putting the porch back together.”
“I’ll come and help you in a minute,” I said to Maggie and
turned back to Livvie. “Yep, and she eats only Cream of Wheat
for supper. Same bowl, same spoon and if you switch it she can
tell.”
“Think she’s peculiar?”Timmy asked.
“Well, I don’t know,” said Henry, “I’d like to have pancakes
every day and spaghetti every night.”
“Yeah, sure, squirt, so would I but I don’t have a temper
tantrum if I don’t get it!”Timmy said.
“Don’t call me squirt or I’ll sock you one,” Henry said.
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Maggie got up and left the room.We were all quiet. Livvie
just kept standing there looking at us like we were a bunch of
escapees from the nuthouse. Finally she said, “Humph,” and
began fixing some food. She handed Timmy a banana and a
sandwich of bread and butter, then reached in the dark refriger-
ator for a Coke and gave it to Henry.
“Go on, now, take this to y’all’s Daddy. See iffin y’all can
help him clean up the yard,” Livvie said.“Don’t be opening the
refrigerator and especially the freezer until the power comes
back on!”
“Okay! Okay!” they said, slamming the back screen door
nearly off the hinges. A few seconds later we heard, “Sorry!”
Then a lot of giggling as they ran down the back steps.
“Them boys,” Livvie said.
She sat down at the table next to me. It was unusual for a
Negro housekeeper to sit next to anyone in the family, except a
baby. I didn’t mind a bit but at the same time I hoped no one
would catch us.
“You all right, Susan?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Humph.You’s a terrible liar.You ain’t fine. That’s all right.
Iffin you want to talk to Livvie, I’m ’eah. I just want to know
one thing and it ain’t about your aunt.”
“What’s that?”
“You think your grandmomma be right in the head?”
“I think she thinks she can do whatever she wants. I mean,
Daddy raises the devil about her sometimes, but then Momma
cries and Tipa gets mad and says it’s still his house and have some
respect for your elders and all that junk.Then Daddy goes over
to Uncle Louis’s, they drink a bunch of beer and Daddy comes
home and it’s okay for a while.”
“Humph,” she said.“Got a bad spirit in her. I gone fix it too.
All right, enough of this long talk. I got to go clean up Mrs.Asalit’s
floor. I gone talk to her, don’t you worry.”
I didn’t tell her about how Daddy would give Momma the
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back of his hand and I didn’t tell her how Uncle Louis never did
anything to help Momma with Grandmomma. I watched her
take the paper towels, a grocery bag for the broken dish and the
container of salt. She probably already knew everything about
us anyway.
“What do you need salt for?” I asked.
“Humph,” she said, “
buckra
children don’t know nothing.
Come on, Livvie will show you.”
I went with her out of curiosity. Their room was empty.
Grandpa Tipa had taken Grandma out to the front porch to
calm her down. We could hear their voices through the open
French doors of their bedroom.Their bed was unmade only on
one side. Tipa had slept on top of the covers, probably dressed.
Sure enough, broken china covered the floor by the closet door.
Livvie began to pick it up and I helped her.
“Watch your feet, child.Why don’t you go put on shoes?”
I had a sudden thought that it had been ages since anybody
had cared whether or not I got hurt. The tears came rolling
down my cheeks and Livvie stood up and pulled me into her
arms.
“There, there now. It’s all right, chile, just cry it all out,” she
said softly to me.
I could feel my chest heaving with sobs but no noise came
out, just great sighs.
“I know,” she said quietly.
“How?” I said.
“Honey chile, when you’re an old woman like me, you’ll be
amazed at what you can know just by looking at someone, espe-
cially when they don’t want you to! Why don’t we pray together
about this a little bit?”
“Pray? Are you kidding me? I’d pray that they both go right
to hell,” I said.
“Susan, iffin you don’t want to pray, that’s all right, but
sooner or later, you got to give it over to the Lawd. It’s His busi-
ness to punish, not our business. And, honey, listen up to Livvie,
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I gone tell you something. It don’t pay to hate nobody, ’cause
the only person who gets hurt is you.The person you hate, half
the time don’t know about it and the other half they don’t care.
So don’t hate them, just know they is stupid. Grown-up don’t
mean you can’t be stupid.”
“Boy, that’s for sure.”
“Ain’t got nothing to do with you. Don’t mean because
they is bad that you is bad. Just means they is stupid.They make
a crazy decision and didn’t expect to get caught.”
“How did you know?”
“Chile, all I had to do was look at your Aunt Carol and she
start to run her mouth a mile a minute, looking every which
way except at me. And your daddy? Normally he’d be cussing
up a blue streak. But he’s out there smiling and cleaning up he
yard. How did you get in their business anyway?”
“Went out to the shed to get a flashlight. Got locked out
and had to go to the front door. First, I heard them.Then I saw
Mrs. Simpson on her porch watching them and laughing. I had
to peek. I wish I hadn’t.”
“Yeah, I expect you do, but it’s natural to peek. That don’t
make you bad, just normal. Too bad that woman saw them. Har-
riet say she something terrible.”
“Yeah, you know she’ll tell the immediate world and then
Momma’s gonna die from the shame of it.”
“She ain’t gone tell a living soul nothing. I see to that.”
“What are you gonna do? Cut off her tongue?”
She giggled like I loved to hear.
“Yeah, Gawd. I gone to her house with your momma’s big
scissors hid in my apron and when she start yapping, I gone grab
it and snip!”
“That would be great! You’d be famous! Gosh, Livvie, when
I talk to you I feel normal.”
“You are normal. You is all normal. Your brothers is just
boys, that’s all.And Maggie’s a young lady trying to grow up and
dignify herself. Can’t blame her for that, can we? Now, your
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grandmomma and granddaddy, they is old, honey, and old folks
got their ways. Can’t change them. Be a mistake to try. In fact,
it’s a mistake to try and change anybody.”
“Doesn’t work anyhow,” I said.
She looked at me, picked up the remaining pieces of
ceramic and put them in the bag.
“Umm-hmm,” she hummed,“no, we can’t change them, but
we can move they spirit! Yes, sir, we can do that sure enough!”
What was she talking about? The next thing I knew she was
sweeping the floor.Then she stopped and opened the container
of salt, poured some in her hand and started humming “Go Tell
It on the Mountain.” She sprinkled some in each of the four
corners of the room and turned to me.
“What?” she said.
“Nothing,” I said,“nothing at all.”
“Gone clean up the spirits in this room, that’s all.You watch,
you’ll see. Gone cut me some roots and make a little cunja bag
and pin it to they mattress too. They don’t have to know, do
they?”
“Ain’t gonna hear it from me,” I said.
“Good. Humph. All this fool in this house is just that. I
gone take care of it.You watch. Gone fix that mirror too.You
believe me?”
“Yeah, I believe you.”
I did believe her and I didn’t know why. Except that since
she’d been here, things had, in fact, started to change.The house was
a lot cleaner, I always had underwear in my drawer, Sophie didn’t
stink anymore and Daddy hadn’t whipped anybody lately. But it
was more than that and her fried chicken. Her passion for righ-
teousness was stronger than our frenzy.
We went back to the kitchen to clean up the remains of our
makeshift breakfast.
“Where do you get your strength, Livvie?”
“What do you mean? Ain’t you heard nothing I ever say?”
“Yeah, of course, I listen to you, but still . . .”
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“Ain’t no but. You wipe off the table and I gone tell you my
story. ’Eah, take this cloth and get busy.”
“Okay.”
She looked out the window remembering, shook her head
and started to talk.
“When I was a little girl we didn’t have nothing. I mean, we
was so poor that my momma lined my shoes in cardboard when
they got holes. I only had one pair and they was my treasure.
She stuffed the walls with newspaper when it got cold, and
Lawd, it got cold. But me and my brother knew we had love
and that was the most important thing to us. And we always had
plenty to eat. Cornbread, milk, field peas . . . something always
on the table.
“My daddy, he was born after the Yankees came, in about
1875, and oh, how he loved to tell the stories about the Yankees.
He was scared to death of them bluebellies because he believed
they would come and kill you or carry you off. Maybe he told
us that so’s we wouldn’t wander off down the road, like we liked
to do.
“His daddy and mammy was still living on the plantation
when he was born, even though they was free to go. His daddy
had been a slave and when Mr. Lincoln freed everybody, he say
where he gone go to? So, they stay and tend they own patch and
work for Mr. Archibald Barnes.
“My family lived in a little cabin on the plantation, the same
one where my daddy was born. All his life, my daddy was a
sharecropper to the same man’s family his daddy had belonged
to.The Barneses they owned a big plantation out on the Wando
River called Oakwood. My brother, Leroy, and me, there wasn’t
no school around there, so they put us in the field to work pick-
ing cotton. But I was a right smart little girl and in fact I can
read a little and do some numbers, but yes, ma’am, I was put out
in the field when I was only nine years old. Makes you grow up
quick. Hard work makes you strong. I work hard every day;
that’s where I get my strength.That and knowing who I am. You
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children think you got it so bad, you wouldn’t know what trou-
ble looked like if he walked right up to you and shook your
hand!”
Livvie sighed and waited for me to say something.
“I know that, I mean, somebody’s always got it worse,” I
said.
“That’s exactly right.”
“I know, I agree, but Livvie, sometimes it’s so crazy around
here I think about running away. I mean, I’d never do it because
where would I go? But it’s too much, you know?”
“Yeah, chile, I know better than you can think I do, but you
belong right ’eah.You is a Hamilton and this is where they call
home. I know something else you ain’t learned yet.”
“You probably know plenty more than I ever will.”
She laughed a little at that and shook her head. “Mm-hm,
chile, these old eyes have seen it all, but what I want to tell you is
this.When folks around you do crazy things, it’s the devil trying
to distract you from your purpose.”
I just stared at her.
“That’s right. Old Beelzebub himself. That’s how the devil
works. He ain’t no fool with a red suit and a tail. No, he works
on your mind. When you let your mind dwell on trouble, you