The Supremes at Earl's All-You-Can-Eat (42 page)

Panting for breath, Yvonne sprinted in front of Sharon and gasped, “Don’t jump, Madame Minnie! Please don’t jump. When I heard you
were up on the roof I just about keeled over dead. You can’t jump until you see the new baby.” Then she raised the infant she was holding high above her head, turning the baby’s scrunched-up little face toward Minnie and the sun. “Don’t jump until you tell me if this is the one!”

Minnie snarled, “Go away, Yvonne. I can’t be bothered with you now.”

Yvonne waved the now-crying child in the air. “But I really need to know.”

Minnie put her hands on her hips. She twisted her mouth in annoyance and then hollered down, “Charlemagne says no. Try again.” Then she extended her arms back out to her sides and scooted the curled toes of her slippers even closer to the edge of the roof.

Yvonne handed off the yowling baby to her boyfriend, who was already carrying another of their offspring. She said, “Dammit! Let’s go home.” The nine of them piled back into the rusty Chevy and rattled off.

As I watched Yvonne’s family disappear in their shivering, smoke-belching car, I found myself thinking of Mama. I wished I could share this with her. If she’d been there, I’d have said, “Mama, this is one of those moments, one of those times that is so good I’ll want to carry it with me when I really do cross over one day.” I also wished that I could’ve shared that feeling with Clarice and Barbara Jean in a way that would make sense to them. They did their best with the topic of Mama and the community of ghosts I’d started keeping company with, though we hadn’t really talked much about it since I left the hospital.

But maybe there are some things that you don’t need knowledge of an unseen world to understand. Just as I was thinking of how I’d like to talk about the wonders of this day with Mama, I felt Barbara Jean hook her left arm around my right. Then, on my other side, Clarice’s elbow wrapped around mine.

The three of us stood there on Big Earl’s lawn, regarding each other with the kind of expression that could have broken out into a face-splitting grin just as easily as it could have collapsed into tears. A
feeling passed between us that didn’t need words, an understanding that there was no other place on earth that we should be right then, no one else we could quite so fully share this strange and beautiful day with. We squeezed closer to each other and leaned our foreheads together, forming our own tight, private triangle. Finally, Clarice said, “Let’s get back across the street where we can laugh out loud. You don’t need to be out in this heat, Odette. And we all know that old fake isn’t about to jump.”

From the roof, Minnie, with that good hearing of hers, shouted, “I heard that! Don’t you call me a fake!” We turned toward her just in time to see her launch herself out into the open air with her long purple painted nails aimed at Clarice, ready to scratch her eyes out.

It seemed to me that it wasn’t until Minnie’s feet had parted with the metal gutter that she remembered she was up on the roof and not on ground level with Clarice. I clearly recall seeing the expression on her face transform from white hot fury to surprise and terror as she fell. Minnie screamed as she came hurtling down toward the lawn, her purple robe fanning out all around her like a parachute.

As it happened, she didn’t hit Clarice or the lawn. She landed on Sharon. The impact caused Sharon to fall back against Little Earl, and all three of them tumbled across the lawn in a purple and white blur. Because the yard sloped slightly toward the street, the Minnie-Sharon-Earl bundle tumbled downhill until it came to a stop against the low yew hedge that lined the front of the property.

The three of them were immediately set upon by rescuers. The first challenge was untangling them from the purple robe and the torn lace of the wedding gown. Then, as a throng of people asked if they were hurt, Minnie shoved helping hands away from her and hopped right up, still ready to take a swipe at Clarice. But as soon as she took one step in Clarice’s direction, she crumpled back to the ground and grasped her foot. She howled, “Oww!” Then, pointing at Clarice, she wailed, “You broke my ankle.”

Erma Mae, who had come running when she saw Little Earl hit the ground, was checking her husband over for injuries even though he kept insisting that he was just fine.

Tearful and grass-stained, but unhurt, Sharon crawled across the
yard on her hands and knees picking up crushed pastries and tossing them back into the pink box.

I heard tires squealing again and I looked toward the street and saw Veronica leaping from her shiny gray car. She trotted over to where Sharon crouched in the grass in her ruined wedding gown and, getting onto her knees, embraced her daughter. She kissed the top of Sharon’s head and tried to comfort her, while at the same time attempting to pull the Donut Heaven box from her daughter’s grasp.

From the edge of the growing crowd in Minnie’s yard, I heard a voice say, “Now that was somethin’ to see.” I turned, and there was Mama.

Everyone else was occupied. Clarice was trying to prevent a tug-of-war between Veronica and Sharon over the Donut Heaven box. Barbara Jean was playing nursemaid to Minnie. The rest of the crowd was busy discussing what they’d just seen, already starting to exaggerate. So I walked away from the commotion and took off down the street with Mama.

I had seen my mother milling around the hospital during the days between my leaving the ICU and my being released to go home. And later I had noticed her roaming through my backyard, frowning over the condition of my flowers. But we hadn’t talked since that day in Leaning Tree when I thought I was going to join her in the afterlife.

Mama said, “You’re lookin’ good.”

“Thank you. I’m feeling all right, considering middle age and cancer.”

She said, “Well, you won’t have to deal with cancer too much longer. I’ve got a feelin’ you’ll be past that soon.”

“No offense, Mama, but I think I’m done listening to predictions about whether or not I’ll be recovering.”

Mama made a face like my remark had stung her. “I’m so sorry about that. Believe you me, I gave Eleanor a piece of my mind for misleadin’ you. She swears up and down it wasn’t a prank. And I’m inclined to believe her. It was a big blow to her confidence, bein’ wrong about you. She took it real hard.” Mama whispered, “She’s drinkin’ like a fish.”

I said, “You can tell her I’m not mad. If there’s one thing I’m not
going to get too angry with somebody about, it’s them being wrong about me dying.”

Mrs. Roosevelt appeared at Mama’s side then, like she’d been waiting nearby to hear that all was forgiven. She favored me with a wide, bucktoothed smile and a shy wave.

I nodded to her and we kept walking.

At the corner, we turned around and headed back. When we were about a half a block away from Minnie’s house, I saw an ambulance pull up to the curb. I watched paramedics take over tending to Minnie and saw Barbara Jean return to the All-You-Can-Eat now that she wasn’t needed. Veronica climbed into her Lexus with Sharon in tow, and Clarice walked back across the street, too.

I told Mama, “Hey, I’m having my last round of chemo on Tuesday—leastways I hope it’s my last.”

Mama said, “Wonderful. We should have a party. I’ll get everybody together to celebrate—your daddy, Big Earl, Thelma, Eleanor, and maybe your aunt Marjorie.”

I said, “How about just you and Daddy. I’d like to keep things a little quieter from now on.”

“You’re right. That probably would be nicer.” Her voice dropped so low I could barely hear her as she added, “Besides, you can’t have your aunt Marjorie at the same party with
this one
.” She pointed at Mrs. Roosevelt, who weaved along beside Mama, sipping from a silver flask that was emblazoned with the presidential seal. “Put the two of them in the same room and it’s nonstop arm wrestlin’ and drinkin’ games.”

The paramedics were strapping Minnie onto a gurney as we approached. The hot weather had driven the spectators away. Now only Little Earl remained. As they wheeled her off the lawn, Minnie told her stepson, “Be sure to tell everybody that I had a near-death experience when I hit the ground. And tell ’em all I said it counts as fulfillin’ my prediction.” I waved goodbye to Minnie as the back doors to the ambulance closed. Little Earl hurried off to his car to follow his stepmother to the hospital.

Now that all of the action was over, I started to feel the sun scorching my skin. I said to Mama, “I’ve gotta get out of this heat.”

“I’ll see you on Tuesday, all right?” Mama said.

“All right.”

We parted ways then. Mama and Eleanor Roosevelt walked toward the swing on the McIntyres’ front porch. I crossed the street and headed back to my friends.

Through the window I saw Barbara Jean and Clarice with their heads together. I suspected they were arguing about whether or not they should ask me if I’d wandered off alone in order to talk to ghosts. At the men’s end of the table, Richmond drew laughs from Chick and James as he tried and repeatedly failed to coax small cubes of sugar-free cherry Jell-O onto his spoon without losing them down the front of his gold silk shirt.

James must have felt me looking at him. He turned away from his buddies and made eye contact with me through the glass. He winked.

This was a pretty picture I’d been allowed to paint—my man and my friends all together. It was the best it could be, really, even though the hand that had sketched it was unsure and in spite of the fact that age had washed out some of the colors. And I wasn’t about to worry over my picture’s frame, not when there was so much more good painting to do.

I reached out to open the door to the All-You-Can-Eat.

My most sincere and heartfelt thanks to:

Julia Glass, for her incredible kindness and generosity. My phenomenal agent, Barney Karpfinger, for his encouragement and advice. My editor, Carole Baron, for allowing me to be the beneficiary of her immense talent. My first readers, Claire Parins, Harold Carlton, Grace Lloyd, and Nina Lusterman, for their patience. My father, Reverend Edward Moore, Sr., for a lifetime of lessons in real strength and true goodness. My mother, Delores Moore, for that first library card. And Peter Gronwold, for absolutely everything.

Edward Kelsey Moore lives in Chicago, where he has enjoyed a long career as a cellist. His short fiction has appeared in several literary magazines, including
Indiana Review
,
African American Review
, and
Inkwell
. His short story “Grandma and the Elusive Fifth Crucifix” was selected as an audience favorite on National Public Radio’s
Stories on Stage
series.

Visit:
www.edwardkelseymoore.com

Like:
http://Facebook.com/EdwardKelseyMooreauthor

Follow:
@edkmoore

For more information, please visit
www.aaknopf.com

The Supremes at Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat

by Edward Kelsey Moore

The introduction, discussion questions, and suggested further reading that follow are designed to enhance your group’s discussion of Edward Kelsey Moore’s marvelous debut novel,
The Supremes at Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat
.

Introduction

Filled with warmth and unforgettable humor,
The Supremes at Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat
tells the story of three remarkably resilient women: Odette, Clarice, and Barbara Jean.

Moving back and forth between past and present, the novel orbits around Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat diner, the first black-owned business in Plainview, Indiana. Clarice, Odette, and Barbara Jean (dubbed the Supremes by their friends) gather at the diner every Sunday to gossip, to hear the latest news of each other’s lives, and to comment on the town’s more eccentric characters, such as the consistently errant fortune-teller Minnie, Clarice’s ridiculously self-important cousin Veronica, and Veronica’s donut-addicted daughter Sharon. Earl watches over the Supremes from high school onward, and his diner represents community for these women, a meeting place that holds their lives together and offers solace, good humor, and support when it is most needed.

As the narrative weaves from past to present and more of the friends’ histories are revealed, the lives of Odette, Clarice, and Barbara Jean take on greater complexity. Their stories are filled with hard choices and dramatic incident. Clarice gave up a promising career as a concert pianist to marry former football star and charming womanizer Richmond, whose infidelities grow more brazen every day. Barbara Jean struggles with alcohol after the death of her husband, Lester.

That death has reopened the wound she suffered when her son, Adam, was killed—run down by the racist brother of a white man she had loved long ago, and still loves. And what Odette thinks are lingering symptoms of menopause turn out to be not hot flashes but a more life-threatening disease. Fearless in her life, she now must face the very real prospect of crossing over to the realm of ghosts that her mother inhabits.

Life continues to test the Supremes’ spirit and resolve, yet these three extraordinary women rise to the challenge, and in the midst of their various trials and travails they never lose their sense of humor, their deep affection for one another, or their abiding capacity for joy.

Questions for Discussion