When Everything's Said & Done (22 page)

“No, this is the first time I’ve heard anything like that. You, Nebia?”

“Not a word.”

“Yeah, child. This has been one crazy mess, because you know folks like Cora and everythin’, especially the children, but people are afraid. You don’t know what these young boys gon’ do. So when they start spreading the word that you might not like what happens if you continue to send your child up there, it’s an easy decision to make.”

Laura folded her hands and looked down. “I guess it would be.”

“And you need to be concerned for your daughter, too, Laura. I know she’s lost her husband and ain’t nothin’ sadder than that, outside of losin’ her sister.” Bertha swallowed. “But I can only think if they’re threatening us.. .what might happen to her.” She looked away.

“I just—don’t even want to think about it.” Laura looked at Nebia. “I tell you, if it’s not one thing it’s another.”

“Well, I hate to be the one to tell you, Laura, but since you didn’t know, I had to tell you the truth.”

“Sure you did, Bertha. I appreciate it.”

“Well, maybe you should warn Cora. These boys are serious. They ain’t playin’ no game. You know the kind of stuff that’s been goin’ on around here. A house burned down the other day up the street. And they don’t know what happened there.”

“What about
the neighborhood watch program? Isn’t it doing any good?” Laura shook her head.

“Yes, some. You get to know what’s happening and who has had some problems. Of course everybody’s
lookin’ out for each other. But I tell you, it’s wild. Even with all we’re doin’ to try to stay on top of it, the bad element seems to be able to get in here, do their dirt. Not only are they burning down houses, but there are many more drugs being sold, too. I just don’t know how they doin’ it. And the drugs aren’t doin’ nothin’ but makin’ these young folks even crazier. I speak to you from my heart now, Laura.” Bertha wiped her nose. “That’s why I liked it when my grandson was going to The Way Home. He had a different attitude about things. He seemed to be hopeful. But now that Cicely has stopped him from going, he seems to have sunken into this dark hole, and some of them old boys we didn’t like to see him with started hangin’ around again. But what are we to do?”

“Yes.” Laura sighed. “What are we to do?”

“Well I tell you, it’s a shame that you can’t have the kind of business that you want just because other folks got plans that aren’t nearly as high-minded as yours. It’s just a shame.” Bertha sighed. “And I’m sorry that Cora’s got to deal with this. But she’s goin’ to have to. I’m really afraid for her and for this neighborhood.” She bit her lip. “And from the word that’s going around, I don’t think she’s going to have many kids going there. I think you might prepare her for that, because the time is comin’, and she needs to get her ducks in a row.”

“All right, Bertha,” Laura replied.

“Well, you take care now,” Bertha said. “Both of you.”

“You do the same,” Nebia said, and they watched her walk away.

“What’s next?” Laura said under her breath. “They have taken her husband away, and now they are about to put her out of business. Why in the world can’t that child find no peace? Hasn’t she dealt with enough?” She slammed her prescription bag down in her lap. “And that old church and Community Ties and all that mess, why can’t they do something? They got pull in our neighborhood. You’d think they’d gather everybody together and say support her. She’s doing good.”

In a low voice Nebia replied, “You know they’re not going to do that. Cora’s been on the wrong side of the fence ever since she opened that place. Had she been more like them, they would help her now.”

Nebia’s Story...

“Did you end up telling Cora what that woman said?” Cynthia asked.

“We told her. As a matter of fact, Laura told her later that evening.”

“Oh, my goodness. I guess she was hurt even more,” Erica replied.

“No. No, she wasn’t,” Nebia said.

“She wasn’t?” Sheila said with disbelief.

“No. When Laura told Cora what Bertha said, Cora just kind of sat back and got this real strange smile on her face. For a minute I thought she had totally lost it. I just couldn’t understand, and the next thing I knew she was saying how she understood. That she didn’t want to be bringing bad to the neighborhood and having folks afraid for their children, and for themselves. Cora said she was going to bring an end to it all. She said she was going to close The Way Home down. She set a date right there. Said that everybody would be invited, including the Gangster Disciples, and there would be food and everything. Cora said she would make a peace offering with the closing.”

“How long was this after Warren’s funeral?” Sheila asked.

“No more than two months.”

“And in that amount of time Cora had decided to let it go?” Cynthia crossed her arms.

“I don’t believe it,” Erica jumped in. “I thought you said revenge had built up in her.”

“It had. But with a mind like Cora’s you could never guess what she was going to do. That’s what she told us at the time, and we were just as shocked as you are now. But see, only Cora knew what she had planned.”

CHAPTER 31

“Would
you care for some more chicken?” Cora said to an elderly man with an empty plate.

“Is there enough for me to have a little more?” he asked.

“Of course.” Cora steadied the Styrofoam plate that shook in his hand, and gave him another drumstick.

Cora looked at the door, then around the room. The Way Home was packed. People had come and gone all afternoon. Again her anxious gaze strayed to the door.

“Hello.” A man stuck his hand out. “I’m Reverend Benson. How you doing this evening?”

“I’m fine. Reverend. How are you?” Cora replied. “Good. I’d like to take this opportunity and invite you to my church. All Faith Church. You’ve probably heard of it.”

“I have,” Cora replied.

“Maybe we’ll see you at service one day.”

“Maybe.”

Reverend Benson cleared his throat. “You’ve got some really good food here, too.”

“Thank you,” Cora said. “I cooked everything myself.”

“You’re quite the cook,” Reverend Benson replied. “Thank you,” Cora said again and looked at the door. “I have to say I’m sad that you’ve decided to close this place down.”

Cora looked directly into his eyes. “Are you really?” “Yes, I am,” he said, holding on to the lie. “But—uh, it’s hard to keep things going in this neighborhood unless you have a support system. So the next time you decide to open up a business, why don’t you come and talk to us at the church; we’re always willing to get behind good causes. And as you probably know, your sister, Brenda, is very involved in Community Ties. She and her husband, Michael, are members of our congregation. ” “I’m aware of that.” Cora continued to look deep in his eyes until the reverend looked away.

“Well, I hope you keep what I said in mind.”

“You can believe I won’t forget it,” Cora replied, before he walked away.

“Now what was so scary about this place?” Cora overheard the question. “I don’t see nothing in here that would frighten me.”

“You wouldn’t right now. I hear she cleared some things out of here this morning. But there was all kinds of stuff up in here. That’s why I came here today, just to see.” “Well, I don’t believe it. I didn’t believe it when I heard it before, and I don’t believe it now. So here you are eating her food and everything, just to be nosey.” Cora turned to see who was talking, but the door opened again. Two more young men came in. There was something familiar about one of them. They spoke to several people in the room, including Reverend Benson. Once or twice they gazed in her direction but kept their distance.

Cora walked over to them. “Hello.”

“What’s happenin’?” the taller one said. The other said nothing.

“Welcome to The Way Home.” Cora smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around here before.”

“You haven’t.”

The second voice held a familiar tone and Cora’s hands began to shake. She put them behind her. “Still, I’m glad to meet so many people even though The Way Home is closing. Can I offer you something to eat?”

“I could eat,” the first man said. “We heard you was really doin’ it over here. That’s why we came out.”

“Well, whenever you’re ready, come over to the table—” she pointed “—and I’ll fix your plates.”

“We could do that right now,” the quietest one replied.

“Fine. Let’s start with some punch.” Cora led the way. She ladled up a mixture of cherry Kool-Aid and pineapple juice and handed the quietest man a cup. He reached out and Cora caught a glimpse of a snake swal
lowing the world on his wrist. Her body trembled but she continued to smile. “Now let me get you something to eat. Ohh—” Cora looked at the table “—I need to

freshen up that potato salad.” She picked up the dish. “You wait here. I’ll go get a fresh batch.”

Cora went into the back room. She stopped in front of the counter and held on to it. “That’s him,” she said softly. “That’s the Gangster Disciple that killed Warren.” Cora continued to lean against the counter before she forced herself to stand. “I can’t be weak now. Not now. ” Quickly, Cora reached in the back of the refrigerator and pulled out a bowl of potato salad. She put some on both plates. She pushed the remains of the dish deep into the back of a cabinet. Cora dipped fresh potato salad from another container into the large rectangular tin before she carried it back out front.

“Okay. Here we are.” She smiled again. Cora placed fried chicken, bread, baked beans and a small ear of corn on their plates. She handed the food to the gangsters.

“Thank you,” the tallest one said. The one with the tattoo simply nodded before they went and stood in the corner and ate by themselves. No sooner had they finished eating, they left.

A couple of hours later when all the people had gone home, Cora locked the doors to The Way Home for the last time. Nebia helped her carry the few items that re
mained to her car.

“Things turned out well,” Nebia said.

“Perfect,” Cora replied. Her jaw was hard. “I couldn’t have planned it any better.”

Nebia looked at her.

Cora pushed the containers she carried onto the car seat. “I bet Faith has worn Mama out by now,” she remarked.

“No doubt,” Nebia
replied.

“Since we moved back home they’ve been as thick as thieves.” Cora smiled a sad smile. “I’m glad they got to come by a little earlier and eat a little something. I wanted Mama to be a part of this.”

“Well, she was,” Nebia said. “But I noticed Brenda didn’t make it.”

“No, but Michael called. He said Brenda wasn’t feel
ing well. That she’s got a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”

Nebia nodded as they put more things on the back
seat. Finally, Nebia climbed into the front, but Cora remained standing outside. She stared at The Way Home. “I’ll never forget this place, Nebia.”

“How can you?” Nebia looked through the open window at the old building.

Early the next morning Nebia went for a walk. She greeted all the familiar faces along the way. Things had gone well until she bumped into a gossipy neighbor.

“Morning, Nebia. I see you’re out early this morn
ing,” Mary said.

“Aren’t I always?” Nebia replied.

Mary didn’t answer. “Guess what I heard?”

“What have you heard this time?” Nebia continued on her way.

Mary fell in step with her. “There was a boy that died early this morning.”

“What boy?” Nebia asked.

“One of those Gangster Disciples. They say he got real sick, him and a friend of his, with some kind of stomach trouble. Possibly food poisoning. One of them turned out all right, but the other one had what the doctors called some complications, and he died.”

Nebia’s expression and pace never changed. “Did they say where they got the food poisoning?”

“The folks downtown traced all the places they’d been. They’d been to one of those hamburger joints, but they also went to Cora’s thing at The Way Home.” Nebia continued in silence before she said. “Give my condolences to the family. I know you know them. You know everybody.”

Mary looked self-important. “Of course I know them. And I’ll tell them what you said.”

Mary went on her way and Nebia walked on down the street. When she got back to the house, she went straight into the Robinsons’ place. Cora was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. Laura was sitting in her wheelchair at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. Faith was playing with a worn-out teddy bear.

“Morning, Nebia,” Cora greeted her. “You want some breakfast?”

“I’m not hungry,” Nebia said. “Not this morning.”

“You always eat a little something.” Cora stirred the grits. “What’s wrong?”

Nebia sat down. “While I was on my walk, I heard a young man died last night. ”

“Who?” Cora looked at her.