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Sugar Mouth
I hadn’t been
standing out there for more than half an hour that morning
when I heard Jay Williams calling my name. At first I
didn’t answer the freak. I didn’t want to have nothing to
do with her. So I just skipped on over to the flea market’s
candy booths and turned my back to her. I knew that would
make her mad, but I didn’t care. I liked to make her mad.
I was excited at the sight of all that candy, too. The flea
market’s candy was always cheaper in the mornings,
especially on Saturdays, so I made sure I got there around
eight o’clock every Saturday. I tasted my lips and then
looked over my shoulder at Jay. She still looked mad.
I laughed at my
smartness and then gazed at all that candy stretched before
me—devil’s eyes, peppermint, sugar apples, red and black
licorice, taffy on a stick, pecan crackers, and lemon and
cherry drops. My jaws worked at the thought of all that
candy lumped in my mouth. And I hugged myself too cause I
felt good thinking about a sugar mouth. My head started
spinning round and round cause I wasn’t there no more. I
was way up high, dancing on candy clouds, and jumping into
chocolate lakes. And I was just about to lay my head on a
giant pink marshmallow when Jay started calling my name
again—Henrietta, Henrietta. I fell from the sky,
turned my neck, and glared.
“What you want?”
She started rocking
on her feet like a retard. “Tim told me to come and get
you. He said you don’t need no sweets on account of your
teeth.”
She looked a hot
mess like always. She had milky white skin even though she
was black. Mama said she was an albino. Said that’s when
black folks gotta a bit of black and white in them, which
absolutely makes no sense to me. You’re either black or
white. There can’t be no in-between. Mama felt real bad
for Jay cause of her egg shell skin, too. She was always
making ugly dresses for her. Saying that Jay didn’t have
much and that we should help her out if we could. Shucks!
I didn’t have enough clothes to put on my own back and here
go Mama trying to save everyone. It wasn’t fair. Skipping
around doing Jay’s bidding like some slave. And she had me
in on it, too. Had me carrying pots of greens and grits or
handme down dresses to Jay’s place when it was real cold
out. It wasn’t right. Just wasn’t.
“You go on back and
tell my brother that I’m getting what I want,” I said,
turning back to the candy booth. I kicked my legs out cause
my overalls had become bunched up around my ankles making me
look like some midget or something. The more I kicked, the
more dust flew up around me. “Go on!” I hollered back at
her. “Go tell him!” Some dust went straight up my nose. I
sneezed. “Go!”
“No,” said Jay.
“Come on, Henrietta.”
“Oh Lord.” I closed
my eyes and made a wish but when I opened them she was still
there.
“Tim said you’d give
me a hard time,” she said. Her feet moved apart like she
was carrying something heavy.
“He did, huh?”
“Yeah,” she said.
“Now come on. He said he got something to show you.”
“What is it?”
“He said it’s going
to make your teeth stop hurting.”
“What is it?”
“He said you going
feel brand new.”
“What is it?”
“Come on man!” I broke out into a big smile. Her bottom lip
stuck out like a fish. “Just come on for now.”
I turned
and looked at all the candy. Shucks, I loved me some
sugar. My Auntie Tulip said she never knew no ten year old
child who loved sugar the way I did. And I did. I surely
did. I ate sugar at least twice a week; bought it from the
money I got for doing laundry up the street. But two months
ago my teeth started hurting. I was eating a sugar apple as
I cleaned up the tool shack, and splat, I heard something
crack back there like an acorn. It hurt like something
awful! I didn’t tell Mama when it happened, too, because I
knew we didn’t have no money to get my teeth fix ever since
Pa took off with everything cause of his foolish
gambling—the pots, the quilts, the spoons and knives, Mama’s
emergency money--everything. Which made Mama go round and
round the cabin shaking her head sadly. I could understand
that. Pa had a way of putting folks in certain types of
moods. This one time he fussed at me for touching his fancy
hat with the red feather, cause he said that it was his
lucky hat and that if someone touched it he’d be out of
luck. I used to laugh when he said things like that, but now
I just get real mad thinking about it all. Must’ve not been
too lucky seeing as he’s gone.
Besides, when it
came to my teeth, I knew Mama would be mad at me for eating
so much sugar if she knew. She was always going on about
how my teeth were going to fall out one day. One day, she’d
say, I’d wake up and would look like a snapping turtle. I’d
laughed when she’d say things like that, which would only
made her get louder and louder so I’d hush up. But she’d
keep on talking. She’d say I should give her my money to
put food on the table and clothes on our backs.
I knew she was
right. I knew. We didn’t have no money. Sure, Mama did
house cleaning at the white woman’s house every afternoon on
the other side of town, but that white woman was stingy with
her money. And I shoulda been smarter with mines. Shoulda
helped out on account of Pa’s leaving, but I didn’t. I
needed my candy. It made me feel better.
*
Sometimes I
thought Mama knew about my teeth hurting, though. She’d
catch me in the mirror looking at them, and she’d look at me
funny. Looking like she wanted to say something to me, but
she never did. The black ones in the back hurt the most.
Whenever the wind hit them, I’d feel it all the way down to
the bone. I’d have to stop whatever I was doing, you know,
to catch my breath. It was during the nighttime when they
really started hurting on account of my tossing and turning
in my sleep. That’s how Tim found out. He woke me up one
night fussing in my ear, talking about, you got the Holy
Ghost or something? Why you tossing and moaning so much?
“Nah,nigga,”
I had hollered. “My teeth hurt, fool.” He stood there for
about five seconds and then told me to go on back to sleep.
The next morning I convinced him not to tell Mama.
“You’ll
just make her mad.” He slanted his head in frustration.
“She got enough to think about cause of Pa and all.” Which
was true.
“You’re
right,” Tim said. We was sitting on top of the mill’s
fence. Not far away the factory workers were leaving the
mill for the day. The night was coming fast. Purplish blue
light ran across the sky and somewhere near an owl who’d.
Tim made a face when he heard it. Like an old man.
“Come
on,” he said. “Let’s get back home.”
*
I looked away from
Jay at the morning sky then. It was darkish gray, and I
wondered if it was going to rain soon. The wind slapped my
face with the back of its hand. Some of it got caught in my
mouth and made my gums hum with pain. I looked down the
road where Tim stood and saw his buddy Redan Houston come up
on him. Little bit later they turned and hollered something
at me. Tim waved for me to come over.
“Fine,
then,” I muttered. “I’m coming.”
Jay followed behind
me as I went out to meet with Tim and Redan, kicking out my
overalls all the way. Tim was dressed in his brown slackers
and dark blue shirt again. His hair was filled with some
sort of oil. Some of it was smeared on the back of his
donkey ears. He looked excited. He came real close to me
and grabbed my neck. I knew he thought he was being funny
when he handled me like that, but sometimes he was too
rough. I wished he’d remember that I was a girl and that he
was a boy, and that his rough ashy hands hurt.
“When I
call you Henry you better come?” His breath was hot on my
skin. “You better do as I say. I find help for your teeth
and you don’t listen. Shit, I should leave your ass right
now.”
“Stop
it, boy!” I choked. He had worked me up so much I had to
lean on a tree to steady my heart. “Go on and leave me
then,” I hissed. “I know my way home.” Tim wiped away dust
from his slackers and eyed me down, arching his eyebrows all
the way back to his hairline. He didn’t say nothing at
first. Just looked me over. Waited. He could ride silent
space like it wasn’t nobody’s business.
“No,” he said.
“Like Mama said you my respon-sib-ility. So you
coming with me.” Little bit later Redan patted my shoulder.
“You all
right, Henrietta?” I kept breathing. I could see Redan
through the tears in my eyes. He was skinny with kinky
broom stick hair and a pudgy oval face like a doughboy.
Like me he wore some overalls, with one strap hanging down
his back, and a red bandana tied around his neck. “Man, you
too rough on your sister,” he said, slapping Tim on the
shoulder. Tim got some gum out of his pocket and started
chewing.
“Yeah,
he is rough. Nigga, you almost killed me!” I rubbed my
neck. The back of my throat still burned. I needed saliva.
“Why should I—go anywhere with ya’ll?” I turned around and
looked back at the candy booth. Some new people were
standing around it. One woman was holding some lemon
swirls. The best candy in the whole wide world if you ask
me. Another woman was licking a sugar apple. I tied my
braids up in a sloppy ponytail, leaned on the tree, and
sighed. Jay squeezed my shoulder but I shook her touch
away. The tip of her straw hat brushed my cheeks. The hat
was big, covering her egg shaped head, and thank you Jesus,
her zig zag hairline. A hot mess. She looked a hot mess.
“Come
on, Henry,” Tim ordered. He pinched my arm which left a
nasty mark. “I’m tired of hearing about your teeth. Me and
Jay got all the answers to your problems. Trust us.”
“Trust
ya’ll? Nigga, please.”
*
We followed Tim around a fenced off pathway that lead us to
the edge of the woods where most of the black people lived
in Carrolton. The small patch of land was called Bowdon,
named after Fed Bowdon, the first black man to build a
school house for blacks only. I hated the school actually.
It was in this run-down building that smelled of dead
things. Everything in this stupid town smelled. It was like
any other small, one-road town, boring and smelly. It was
split up in two sections. Me, Tim, and Mama lived on the
left side, closer to the factory mills and meat plants.
Kids were always out there, bouncing through the trees like
kangaroos, hollering gotcha during the night hours
when hide and seek was all that mattered.
On the right side,
over by a crooked line of sycamore and oak trees, was where
most of the young black folks lived. It was more happening
there since its path led straight to the hot club joints in
the neighboring town Eton. Once Mama told me if she ever
caught me over there she’d whoop my hide. I never went
there, though. Not cause Mama said that, cause I didn’t
know any one over there, except for Jay and her sister Fran,
and I tried to steer clear from them two. Rumor had it that
Fran sang sinful songs at the club joints. Mama’s
churchgoing gang said she was a rotten apple. As rotten as
they got. Jay never talked about her.
People
were moving about this morning, preparing for long journeys
into town for weekend work. Nearby a chicken cried out to
me. I cried back.
“There go your kin,
Jay,” I said, pointing to the chicken. Jay didn’t say
nothing to me, but I laughed anyways. It was funny. Some
people were catching rides into town with others in their
pick up trucks or cars. We had to jump out of the way
because some of them busted trucks tried to run us over.
Some beeped at us. We beeped back.
“Old stupid trucks!”
hollered Tim. Redan hollered too.
A brown dog came
bouncing out from somewhere but we ignored it, keeping our
eyes ahead as mill smoke covered the sky. After awhile it
came right down on top of our heads. Redan started coughing
and complaining. My brother hit him in the arm and told him
to shut up. Told him he would wake everyone up with his big
old lips. Redan shut up.
We kept
walking. My thighs felt like frozen lumps that didn’t
belong to me but hurt each time I moved them; we passed
another row of cabins, past some buzzing bees, past a busted
down windmill. Soon we were past most of Carrolton and deep
into the backwoods. I wanted to ask Tim where we were going
for my teeth, but I didn’t want him to put me in a head lock
no more, so I kept my mouth shout. Soon Tim started singing
an old spiritual. Jay joined in. I had heard it before.
It was about an old slave who had seen God’s face in a
river. He sang loud and clear:
Johnny comes down
the hollow.
Oh hollow!
Johnny comes down
the hollow.
Oh hollow!
And see God’s face
in the water.
Oh hollow!
And see God’s face
in the water.
Oh hollow!
He ax God when he
goin be set free.
Oh hollow!
He ax God when he
goin be set free.
Oh hollow!
And God say have
faith and follow me.
Oh hollow!
And God say have
faith and follow me.
Oh hollow!
Ohhhhhhh hollow!
“I hate that song,”
I said. “How can someone see God’s face in the river?”
“Cause he just
could, Henry,” replied Jay. “You think too much about
stuff.”
“All I’m saying—”
“All you saying is
that you don’t believe in nothing,” finished Tim for me. I
crossed my eyes and glared at him. I hated when they did
that—ganged up on me like that. Like I was nothing.
“It’s just a stupid
old tale.”
“Nuuuuhhhhh,” rung
Redan. “My uncle told me Johnny was a real man. He lived
in Carrolton back in the day.”
“You lying.”
“Plenty of songs are
based on real folks Henry,” chimed Jay, looking dirty as a
pole cat. She was picking some scabs on her elbows and
knees. The marks left a red splotchy stain on her pasty
skin.
“Well, how did God
look like if he saw Him in the water? What color was He?”
I said it to Redan, but Jay moved in a little, like she had
something important to say. She was always looking like she
had something important to say. The first time I saw her
white self she was hiding behind the trees outside of the
Baptist church, looking through the red and green stain
glass windows, listening to Preacher Jeffrey’s Sunday talk,
looking like she had something important to say. She
visited the church every Sunday even though she never went
in. Mama said it was because she was an albino, and her
sister was a sinner, and that Jay might be confused about
those things. Said no one hardly talked to her in town
cause of it. And that it wasn’t right. Said a child
shouldn’t pay for the wrongs of their family. Mama was
always talking stuff. Jay went back and forth to church like
that for some weeks until she stopped coming all together.
I flattened my lips
at Jay, silently daring her to say something else, to say
something she considered important. She did.
“What does it
matter,” she paused a little, “how God looked, Henry? What
matters is that Johnny saw Him and God said have faith in
me.” Redan and Tim mumbled their agreement. I picked up a
stick and waved it in their stupid faces.
“Ya’ll some straight
up fools.” They rolled their eyes at me. I rolled them
back. Sure, I had heard stories about God in Sunday school
ever since I was real little. And I used to like to think
they was true. That if we had a problem all we had to do
was ask God for help. But that was before Pa left. Before
my teeth started hurting. I had asked God to show me the
way then—to tell me what to do. But he didn’t say nothing
to me, so I didn’t say nothing to him. I marched farther
from the rest of them, thinking a little bit about their God
nonsense. And I started thinking about Pa and my candy,
too. Pa and his stupid gambling. I needed some sugar.
*
We kept on walking,
passed a handful of shacks and orange peeling tractors,
across the old railroad tracks and train station, and under
the bridge. The morning sky was getting darker. The wind
quicker. Leaves started falling. I could hear them hitting
the path. Sometimes they barely touched it before they went
off in the sky again.
“My legs hurt.”
“Deal with it,” said
Tim. “You ain’t nothing like Mama.” Tim had gotten to
saying things like that a lot lately. Saying that I
complained too much, that I wasn’t strong like Mama. Just
the other night he sat at the head of the table and told me
to eat my greens before they got cold. I remembered
thinking--who this Negro thinks he is? He know I can’t
stand greens.
I kept my mouth
shut, not wanting to answer him, cause sometimes when I did
he was worse. My brother was only fourteen but he acted
like he was a real man. Thought he was real fine. Which he
wasn’t. He had what Mama and Auntie Tulip called the Yellow
Man Syndrome. It’s when yellow folk think their shit don’t
stink. They walk around like they white folks. Like they
got something important to do and someone important to do it
with. Tim didn’t even have to say nothing to girls and
they’d jump up and do his bidding cause he was so fine.
Jay was one of them. Shucks, she was the ringleader. I
looked over my shoulder at Jay walking towards me. I tried
to speed up but she was quick on her feet.
“How bad are your
teeth, Henrietta?” asked Jay, when she finally caught up
with me. “Can I see them?”
I hung my mouth open
for her and Redan, figuring there was no harm in that. But
I had to close them quick on the account of the cold wind.
When Redan saw them he giggled to himself a little. Like he
didn’t want no one to hear but I heard him just the same.
“Oh,” he whispered.
I turned to look out into the woods. I felt like saying
shut up, they ain’t that bad, but instead I said nothing. I
felt ugly with those things hanging back there. Jay dropped
her arm around my shoulder. I pushed it off.
*
By the
time we got to the little hill that bordered Carrolton’s
land from Eton’s land most of the sun was nowhere to be seen
in the sky. I would of thought it was mid afternoon if it
wasn’t for the familiar musty morning breeze. We came to a
clearing where there was a cluster of old looking farm
houses, most of them with shiny metallic sheets as roofs.
The sky was airy and I enjoyed the feel of it. We kept
quiet for awhile. There was no need to talk. Jay was even
quiet for once. We began to walk through the clearing.
After a few minutes
we finally came up on a funny looking log cabin no bigger
than a shed. I had never seen the place before, and
wondered how Tim had found it. Bugs were all over it. In
fact, every bug I could think of was out there; fireflies,
wasps, butterflies, horse flies, and fat green things I
couldn’t make out. One of them bit me.
“This place is
nasty,” I said.
“Hush,” snapped
Redan. “Keep quiet, now.”
I gave him a
salute. “Yes, sir.”
The grass grew
browner and browner the closer we moved towards the cabin.
Wildflowers were scattered here and there. Redan kept
tripping over some weeds. My eyes tried to follow their
pattern but they kept getting cross eyed; I felt shaky. We
walked a little bit closer. Things were hanging up
everywhere on the small porch—bits of metal, palm fronds,
packets of green stuff, beads, garlic, and tools. A pack of
leaves hung just above the door.
The wind
pushed me on just as Tim knocked on the door. It opened up
quick. It smelled funny in there, so I shut my eyes fast,
hoping they wouldn’t water, but they did. When I opened
them, I stared right at a tall, lanky colored boy. He was a
dirty muddy color. He had a round face, with big fish eyes,
and lips that seemed too thin for his face. He couldn’t
have been no older than Tim. Maybe younger. I looked past
him inside the cabin. There was an old woman sitting in the
corner by a small fire.
“Who got the
problem, Jay?” asked the boy in a man’s voice. Jay pointed
at me and the boy let us in.
At first I couldn’t
see nothing on account of the cans and sack bags covering
the windows, but slowly I began to make out the shapes in
the darkness. The cabin was a small little thing. The
stove and chair just about filled it. And the bedrooms were
separated by nothing more than some sheets. I got a closer
look at the old woman. She looked like a lion with her wild
yellow hair and sharp ears. Her square bony shoulders caved
in a little, even though they looked like they were held
high and stiff. A low growl came from her mouth.
“Jay,
who got the problem again?” asked the lion.
“It’s
her, Miss Estelle.” Jay leaned against the wall and pointed
at me. She kicked off her sandals and rubbed the back of her
left ankle with her right foot. “She the girl I was telling
you about, Miss Estelle. Her folks don’t have no money to
get her teeth fix and her Pa just took off. He ain’t coming
back. She ain’t got no way to repay you but she need your
help all the same.”
My face burned with
embarrassment at Jay’s words. The boy who had let us in had
disappeared somewhere behind the sheets, but I knew he had
heard everything. I came up on Jay quick and grabbed her
by the collar. She rocked back on her feet at my touch. I
clamped down on my lips.
“Take it
back,” I whispered. Tim grabbed my right hand and tugged.
“Henry,
I didn’t mean nothing by it,” said Jay. She let loose a
nervous giggle.
“Take
back what you said about my Pa, you cracker.”
“Come
on, don’t act like that. Ms. Estelle is going to help you.”
“Henry,
do as she says” ordered Tim, pinching my skin again. Redan
chimed in.
“Henry, it’s all
right,” he said. I looked at Jay. I wanted to tell her
that she was ugly. Wanted to tell her that she was a nobody
cause the kids picked at her at school. How both of her
folks had up and left her, not just her Pa like mines, but
both. How she was stupid for waiting outside of church all
the time, expecting for someone to invite her in. How she
had no friends and would never have any. But I decided to
play their game.
“Fine,”
I began. “If ya’ll think this crazy lady can help me with
my teeth, then let’s have it.” Redan appeared over Tim’s
right shoulder.
“Go on
then,” he said.
“Enough. Both of ya
come here,” said the lion woman. “Both. Jay and the girl.”
I
crossed my arms across my chest. “Your kin sure is ugly,
Jay.” I said it loud and clear. I wanted everyone to
hear. Wanted them to know that I was mad. Jay shrugged,
but her face balled up like a big old fist.
“Nah,”
she said, tight lipped. “She ain’t my kin, Henry.” I
watched as she squatted down and rubbed a mosquito bite on
her ankle.
Then I
looked around for the boy again, but he still hadn’t
appeared. Just then I caught a whiff of something sweet in
the air. It reminded me of peppermint. The smell seemed to
be circling around this lion. Tim pushed me towards her.
“Come
on,” said Jay, rising. We both started walking towards this
lion woman.
*
Now Auntie Tulip
told me once when I’m scared all I got to do is count to ten
and my fears will go away. Auntie said, “Shhh, Henry.
Count to ten and whatever has been bothering you will go
away.” And I said, “What’s counting to ten going do for
me?” “It’s going to slow down your heartbeat until it ain’t
nothing but a steady hum.” “Well, what if I do that and by
the time I get to ten my heart still feels hard?” “Then you
start all over chile.”
“What for?”
“Because you just
do.”
So I was
getting closer to this lion woman. Closer. And when I got
real close I saw that she didn’t have no front teeth. Her
teeth was yellow. Bright yellow. And it looked like she
had three arms too. One. And one of them was
reaching out for me. Two. And she was telling me
not to worry that she would make everything feel better and
my teeth was melting into my gums cause they stung so bad.
Three. And I felt someone touch me, and I thought it
was her hands, and I wondered why they were so cold.
Four. Five. And I got to thinking about my brother and
why he dragged me down here and what Mama would say if she
ever found out and I was feeling sick you know. Six.
Feeling like nothing was going to work out. Seven.
Eight. Nine. And I cursed my Auntie for telling me
something so stupid like counting to ten. I shouldn’t have
believed her. Ten.
It was the strangest thing, too. As soon as we got right
in front of her, she started shaking her hands up high in
the sky like they were dancing. Then she threw some stuff
into a huge black bowl. She mixed it up real good and bowed
her head over it. I knew what she was doing. She was
praying over it. Her voice started rising higher and higher
like how Preacher’s Jeffrey’s voice do in church.
Afterwards, she told me and Jay to sit close to her and
drink from the black bowl. I didn’t want to. It looked
bad, nothing like that good old flea market candy. But I
did what she said cause Tim was looking at me so hard.
Looking like he wanted to put me in a head lock again. I
sipped it slowly. It felt slippery on my tongue, but it
didn’t taste as bad as I thought it was going to. It was
sorta sweet. Like peppermint.
But I
started feeling a little funny afterwards. Feeling like my
body didn’t belong to me. I didn’t know what was
happening. Jay started whispering something in my ear but I
couldn’t hear her. “You going to have to pray with me over
this,” said the lady. I looked up at her thinking she was
talking to me but she was looking at Jay.
“What
kind of prayers I’ll be praying for her, Miss Estelle?” Jay
asked.
“Baptist.” The lion turned to me.
“Open your mouth and
let me see them teeth, child,” she ordered. I did as she
said.
My eyes
felt sleepy. All I could feel was Jay’s hand pressed
against my back, holding me up from falling. I leaned on
her.
The lady pawed my
cheek and it started hurting again. I wanted to push her
hands away. To ask her what she thought she was doing. But
I was too sleepy. Too sleepy. Her hands were melting
deeper and deeper into my skin while something powerful came
over me. I don’t know why I did what I did next. I don’t
know. But I did it. I did it long and hard.
I started laughing.
I leaned on Jay’s leg, bending over laughing. I looked back
at Tim and he had a weird look on his face, like he didn’t
know who I was, but I kept on laughing. In fact I couldn’t
stop laughing. I knew Tim would get mad but I couldn’t stop
laughing. I laughed and laughed and laughed.
It all
seemed so silly. So strange. Did Tim and Jay really think
this would work? Did he think this lady would help me? What
was Tim thinking? Laughing. What was Pa thinking?
Laughing. Where was Pa? Laughing. Why Pa had to up and
leave us like he did? Why Jay had to say those things about
my Pa like she did? Laughing. Why my teeth got to hurt so
bad? I didn’t do nothing. Where’s Pa? Laughing.
I laughed long and
hard way down to my bone. I wanted to put my arm round Jay
to hold me up from laughing so hard. I opened my mouth and
wind came in but I kept on laughing and laughing, laughing
and laughing, until I realized that I wasn’t laughing at
all, that something wet was on my face. I looked up at Jay
and the lion. They were still praying.
*
Tim and Redan
stayed in the cabin talking to the lion woman while Jay and
I went outside. We went behind the cabin. I slapped away
some mosquitoes that were buzzing in my face.
“You did good in
there, Henry,” said Jay. “Your teeth feel better?” I
flicked the back of my teeth with my tongue.
“They feel a little
bit better I guess.” I stretched my neck up to the rising
sun.
“Don’t be mad at
Tim. It was my idea,” she said quickly, “all mines. Ms.
Estelle is good people though. I knew she’d take care of
you. I know her from way back.”
I looked back at the
ground feeling like I was going to be sick. I felt like
that lion woman still had her hands on me. I fell down.
“Henry,” Jay
whispered.
She lowered herself
onto the ground and tried to help me sit up, but I still
felt sick. I began to take deep breaths, pushing away
something that was about to rip the back of my mouth.
Through my wheezing I said:
“You know my Pa is
coming back soon, Jay. He would’ve taken care of these.” I
pointed to my front row of teeth. “You didn’t have to tell
that woman in there all that stuff about my Pa. He’s coming
back soon.” I hated the fact that my voice was hoarse,
sounding like I was about to cry.
“I know, Henry,”
said Jay, her own voice weak. She scooted closer beside
me. We sat behind the cabin in silence, our backs against
the wall, watching the sun’s light rise in the sky. We sat
there for a long time, until Tim and Redan came to fetch us,
until the morning left and the afternoon came. But all the
while I didn’t want to leave from the spot, from me and
Jay’s silence, cause she understood. She knew. |
Monique Harris is a recent graduate of Indiana University’s
MFA Creative Writing Program, where she worked on her
thesis, a collection of ten short stories entitled Sugar
Mouth. Her stories display how children perceive their
world, especially how they learn to navigate the world(s)
that the adults impose on them. She also touches on the
importance of language in the black community, and how for
an oppressed minority, it is an important tool for making
sense of their experience and their emotions. Much of her
thesis is inspired by her own experiences growing up in the
South. Her work has been nominated for the Best New
American Voices Anthology and she is the recipient of
the William Cast Fellowship and Diversity Excellence Award
from the Indiana University Writers’ Conference. She has
also served as an editorial assistant for the Down Home
Anthology: A Portrait of the New African American South.
Monique is currently working on her first collection of
short stories. She credits Toni Cade Bambara and J.
California Cooper for inspiring her to stay true to her
writing style.