The Lovely Shadow (20 page)

As the woman continued to cackle, apparently
unable to stop, June came through the swinging doors into the
kitchen dressed in a very smart, professional looking outfit,
consisting of a pink blouse, cream slacks, and black shoes. She
smiled as she took in the scene before her and said, “Well, it
appears the two of you have gotten off to a good start, eh
Johnny?”

I smiled and nodded my head.

“Have you two been properly introduced?”

June asked. The black woman kept howling with
laughter and waved one hand as if shooing away a troublesome pest,
or waving ‘bye-bye’; I shook my head and kept smiling.

June was still smiling but cocked her head
and looked quizzically at the snorting, guffawing woman beside
me.

“Just what have I missed in here? What’s so
funny?” June asked.

The round black woman tried to regain enough
composure to tell the story but only managed to say between snorts
and giggles, “Dis boy come runnin’ tru dem door like he got da
devil behin’ hisself—hee hee hee—and den him see me stannin’ here
and it scare de bejeezus outta him, an’ him done—hee hee—him done
throwed on da brakes and lands hisself right on his butt—ha ha
ha—and den him done slide across da floor, an say him done busted
his butt! Ha ha ha.”

June interpreted the string of babble much
better than I ever could have and laughed along with the black
woman. After a moment though she regained her composure and
introduced us properly.

“Johnny, this is Lillian,” she said gesturing
towards the black woman. “She’s been my close friend and part time
housekeeper for about a million years now. And now that you’re
gonna live here, she’s my full time housekeeper and part time
babysitter.”

I looked up at Lillian, who was finally done
laughing and held out my hand and said, “Hello, Lillian, I’m
pleased to meet you.”

She swallowed my frail hand in her strong,
but soft and meaty one and initiated a firm handshake. I was able
to hold back the grimace that wanted to spread across my face as
she squeezed my sore fingers but she seemed to sense my pain anyway
and reduced the firmness of her grasp.

“Child,” she said smiling, “you jes’ call me
Miss Lilly. Dat’s what dey all call me. An’ you not got no-ting to
worry ‘bout; dem fingers ain’t broke…an’ neither is you’s
butt!”

At the last word she broke out into a fresh
explosion of laughter, released my hand and turned back to the
stove to continue cooking, muttering something about broken
butts.

When Miss Lilly went back to her cooking,
June crossed the kitchen and put her hands on my shoulders,
squatted down to my eye level and said, “Hey Toots, I’ve gotta go
into town today and talk to the police about what happened at your
mom’s house. Then I’m gonna go to some other places to try and get
them to let you stay with me, ok?”

I nodded.

“Well, the reason I’m telling you this is
because I need you to stay here with Miss Lilly while I’m gone. I
don’t know how many places I’ll have to go, or how long I’ll be
gone and I can’t really take you along to some of the places. Will
you be ok here with Lilly?”

I looked around at Miss Lilly and saw her
looking back at me with a big toothy smile and knew that I’d be
just fine here with her. “I’ll be fine, June, thanks.”

June smiled at me and gave me a hug which I
returned earnestly. The she stood up and said to Miss Lilly, “Lilly
thank you so much for helping me with this. I really can’t thank
you enough for all you’ve done and all you’re doing.”

Miss Lilly smiled at June and said “Don’choo
worry you’s pretty head ‘bout none o’ dat, June-bug.”

The way she pronounced June sounded like
Zjune; pronouncing the first consonant sounds like the name Zja
Zja.

“You jes’ get you’s self outta de house and
down de street and make sure dat nobody does nutin’ else to hurt de
boy.” She reached out and patted my head as she said the last
part.

“An’ June-bug?”

“Yes Lilly?” June responded.

“Take some bacon witchoo. You be gettin’ too
damn skinny. You be makin’ it to look like Miss Lilly done been
eatin’ all de food an’ not be savin’ none fo’ nobody else.

Miss Lilly handed June a paper towel wrapped
around a large handful of bacon and kissed June’s cheek. The she
pushed her towards the door and said, “Now go on, get out there,
an’ do some magic on dem stuffy shirts an’ make dem keep de boy
here.”

Miss Lilly cocked her head towards me and
winked before continuing, “I like de boy, him funny; him make me
laugh like a jack-o-lantern full o’ wacky weed.’

Miss Lilly laughed at her joke that made no
sense to me, and turned back to the stove to finish cooking
breakfast, while June bent down and kissed my forehead and said,
“Ok Toots, wish me luck.”

“Good luck, June” I said while eyeing her
handful of bacon desirously. June told me she loved me, and I loved
to hear it. I told her I loved her back, and with that she rushed
out of the house.

Miss Lilly finished cooking only a few short
moments after June left and instructed me to wash my hands and go
set at the table, which I had apparently ran right past without
seeing on my mad dash through the house to the kitchen earlier.

I washed up in the kitchen sink and exited
the kitchen through the saloon style doors and saw that there was a
nice sized dining area just beyond the kitchen, set apart from the
living room area only by décor, since it was part of the same
great-room.

I sat down and waited for Miss Lilly who came
trundling out a few moments later with a rolling metal cart that
had several trays of with food on it. As she placed the food on the
table I couldn’t help staring at it like a dog begging for a
treat.

There was a veritable mountain of bacon, two
dozen sausage links, a stack of toast with strawberry jelly, orange
slices, a carafe of orange juice, a jug of milk, and a big stack of
pancakes that were drenched in butter with a bottle maple syrup
sitting beside it.

Miss Lilly produced two plates, two forks,
and two butter knives from the deep pocket on the front of her
apron and set them all down on the table, one setting in front of
me, and the other in front of her. Then she pulled out her chair
and sat down across from me.

I was desperate to tear into the bounty that
was placed before me, but I didn’t want to seem rude or
impertinent, so I just sat there fidgeting and waiting for her to
make the first move so I could follow suit.

Miss Lilly just looked at me, grinning. Her
impish grin lit up her whole round face and was very pleasant to
behold, but did nothing to satisfy my hunger. Deciding that one of
the two of us needed to get the ball rolling I decided to offer my
honest thanks for the meal set before me, hoping that we were only
waiting for pleasantries to be exchanged so we could eat.

“Thank you, Miss Lilly, for the food. It
looks delicious.”

Miss Lilly smiled warmly and replied, “Tanks
be in order, Child, but not to me. Miss Lilly only cook de food—she
get paid to cook de food—but Miss Lilly don’ be makin’ de food. De
Lord be makin de food, Child, an’ Him de one dat we be needin’ to
tank.”

I thought about it for a second, trying to
catch her meaning.

“You mean, like… praying?” I asked.

“Dat be exactly what I be meanin’, Child. Now
you be lookin’ like you be ready to eat de butt off a dead skunk,
on account you’s bein’ so hungry. So I tink dat maybe you’s best be
gettin’ to de Lord tankin so’s we can eat; don’choo tink?”

I was nervous. I’d only barely ever prayed,
and didn’t know how it was supposed to be done. I’d seen people on
the television pray before and decided that I’d try mimicking what
I’d seen.

“Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be
thy name…Umm…. Give us our daily bread, and umm….deliver us.
Amen?”

I looked up at Miss Lilly hopefully. Hoping
not only that I’d said enough to earn my breakfast, but also that I
hadn’t offended her with my complete lack of holy communication
skills.

Miss Lilly was smiling so sweetly that I was
pretty confident that I hadn’t offended her, but she was not
reaching for food just yet.

“Child,” she said in a compassionate tone,
“you don’ need be prayin’ like what you tink you’s s’posed to be
prayin’ like. You need to be prayin’ de truth! You need to be
tellin’ de Lord wha’choo really be feelin’ inside. You need to be
talkin’ to God like Him be you’s frien’, not like Him be a
stranger. Now try again, Boo.”

I had no idea what ‘Boo’ meant, but I liked
the sound of it, and as for the rest of her speech, I liked it as
well. It made sense to me. Miss Lilly’s reassuring demeanor gave me
the courage to try again, with my own words and feelings.

“Lord, thank you for the food. Thank you for
letting June find me. Thank you for my warm bed last night. Thank
you for the toilet I got to use this morning. Thank you for Miss
Lilly and her cooking. Thank you for keeping me safe. Thank you for
my new home. Thank you for June trying to make it so I can live
here. Thank you for…”

Miss Lilly cut me off, laughing as she spoke.
“Child, dat’s enough tankin’ fo’ one meal fo’ sho’! De food’s is
gonna get cold an’ mushy if we don’ get to eatin’ em soon.”

“Amen,” I said with finality and a smile,
feeling exceptionally good about having finally thanked God
properly for many of the good things that had happened in my life.
I still had more thanking that needed to be done, but I figured
there would be other meals for that.

Miss Lilly looked at me very sternly and
said, “Now Child, dis here’s what Miss Lilly’s Mama say—she say dat
when dey’s food on de table, it be time fo’ eatin’ an dey be plenty
o’ time fo’ talkin’ when de burpin’ be done. You be gettin’ my
meanin’, Boo?”

I stifled a giggle and nodded my head. I got
her meaning loud and clear, and was eager to open my mouth only for
the purpose of shoveling food into it; which I did shortly after
nodding.

Miss Lilly was true to her mama’s rule and
spoke not a single word while we were eating. She finished eating
before I did and she let out a huge belch and then just simply sat
quietly, watching me eat, taking obvious pleasure in my enjoyment
of her cooking.

When I finally pushed my plate away I was
afraid that perhaps I’d overdone it and might have made myself
sick. Miss Lilly sat silently across the table, staring at me and
twirling her hand in a ‘come on’ gesture.

I didn’t get her meaning at first, but soon
caught on when she started making facial gestures to help with the
charades. I let out the loudest, longest belch I’d ever burped in
my life and felt instant relief from the pressure in my belly. The
burp was so loud and large that it actually startled me and I
reflexively threw a hand over my mouth as I gasped.

Miss Lilly barked her raucous laugh and
clapped her hands a few times and said, “Child, I don’ know what
I’m gonna do wit you. You keep makin’ me to laughin’ like dis an’
I’m gonna bust a seam an’ spill my guts all over de floor.”

I smiled comfortably, pleased to be in the
presence of such an appealing lady. Feeling safe and comfortable
with her I dared to ask a question that had been bugging me since
our handshake.

“Miss Lilly, how did you know about my
fingers when we shook hands?”

“I could feel dem healin’ in you, Child.
There be an energy dat flow through de body all de time. When de
body be healin’, den dat energy be gettin’ hotter an’ movin’
faster. I could feel dat energy, spinnin’ roun’ and roun’ in you’s
hand.”

“But de energy be flowin’—not shakin’. When
de bone be broken, de energy can no’ flow, it be gettin’ all hung
up in de broken bones, makin’ de energy bounce and shake.”

I was able to picture the energy flow clearly
in my head, and it made sense that it could get snagged up in a
fracture, but I still couldn’t understand how she knew that I
didn’t know whether they were broken or not, so I asked her.

Miss Lilly laughed quietly and said, “Dat,
Child, was just a guess. Miss Lilly can no’ read de mind, or see de
future, but she make a pretty good guesser, and pretty good
jambalaya too!”

I smiled at Miss Lilly and asked what
Jambalaya was. It had become pretty rare for me to hear or read a
word I was unfamiliar with, but this was a new one and I was eager
to learn it.

Miss Lilly took obvious pride in her
particular recipe for Jambalaya, and though she would not reveal
the exact recipe, she gave me enough details to understand that it
was a dish containing chicken, sausage, seafood, vegetables, stock,
and rice.

Ever the curious one, I continued to press
Miss Lilly for more information. “How were you able to feel the
energy flowing? I can’t feel it, and it’s in my body.”

Miss Lilly dropped her voice and spoke in a
reverential tone. “Dat, Child, be de work o’ de spirits. I pray to
de spirits, and de spirits come, an’ when dey comes, dey brings dey
powers wit dem and dey share dey power wit me.”

I was confused. I had thought Miss Lilly was
a Christian, judging from the way she’d had me pray over the meal.
I didn’t know much about Christianity, but I knew enough to know
that people didn’t usually pray to spirits. They prayed to Jesus,
or to God, but praying to other spirits was kind of taboo.

I asked Miss Lilly, “Aren’t you Christian,
Miss Lilly? I thought Christians were only supposed to pray to God
or Jesus.”

Miss Lilly laughed and said, “Child, dey be
many folks be sayin’ dey Christian, o’ dey Baptist, o’ they dis, o’
dey dat, but dey all be missin’ sum-ting. I don’ be callin’ myself
none o’ dat. I only be callin’ myself ‘Miss Lilly’, an’ dat be
‘nuff fo’ me to be happy.”

“I don’ be needin’ to be nuthin’ mo’ den what
I is; an’ what I is, is a woman who be doin’ de Voodoo an’ de
Hoodoo an’ who be lovin’ de Lord too.”