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Mama Issues an Ultimatum
By Natalie Abrams
My mother and father did not
fight in front of us kids. Occasionally they were testy with one another,
but it wasn’t like at my Aunt Shale’s and Uncle Floyd’s house. Those two
were my favorite relatives and I loved spending time with them, but I have
to say they could be downright childish. Sometimes they wouldn’t be
speaking to each other and would use me as their go-between. Uncle Floyd
would say something like, “Linda, tell your aunt she forgot to put the
butter on the table.” Aunt Shale was sitting right there and heard him,
but I would dutifully turn to her and deliver the message. She would
answer with, “Tell your uncle he could stand to lose a few pounds, I was
trying to do him a favor.” No cutting remark ever went unchallenged. Like
a tabletop between competitors in a ping-pong match, I’d receive a volley
from one side and bounce it to the other. It seemed foolish, but mine was
not to reason why.
Maybe the difference was that my aunt and uncle had petty
disagreements that didn’t amount to anything but when Mama and Daddy let
loose, it was serious business. Maybe that’s why they kept their feuding
private. After all, there had been that one time and it was
a doozy, I’m here to tell you.
It was on a Sunday, right after we got home from church. We
were all in the living room and Mama was taking off her red high heels.
That was always her routine when she got home from a dress up occasion,
soon as she walked through the door: first the shoes and then her bra.
With a little maneuvering, without so much as unbuttoning her blouse, she
could shed the bra through a sleeve. That trick amazed Clare and me but
invariably brought cries of disgust from Troy and Jake. Mama didn’t care,
she’d just grin and snap the bra at them like it was a towel. Mama looked
like a million dollars when she went out, but at home she wanted to be
comfortable. She used to say a woman could not look good and be
comfortable at the same time. But I am getting off the subject.
Anyway, she’d removed only one shoe. It was, like I said, red,
and it had at least a three inch spiked heel on it. Then, Daddy must’ve
said something she didn’t like, something that flew all over her and
pushed her over the edge, beyond her good breeding and biblical-imposed
submissiveness. She was probably already mad and had just been holding it
in.
Well, I didn’t hear what Daddy said but I sure did see Mama
fly into him with that shoe. She started beating him with the pointy end
of the spiked heel. Daddy was a big bear of a man and Mama was small, but
she was winning that fight, no contest. Daddy was so taken by surprise his
eyes about bulged out of his head as he tried to back out of her range.
When that didn’t work, he caught hold of her left arm and held tight, but
the shoe was in her right hand and she was quick as lightning. His own
arm, the one attached to the hand holding her wrist, was spouting blood
from a dozen little square holes. He was making jerky, desperate grabs at
Mama’s free arm, but luck was not on his side. Finally, he bellowed out to
us kids, “SOMEBODY DRAG THIS WILDCAT OFF ME!”
That’s when Mama’s sanity returned, when she realized her kids
were watching. She stopped. Daddy let go of her arm. She smoothed down her
dress, stuck her nose in the air, and hobbled out of that room with all
the dignity she could muster. It wasn’t easy, not wearing just one shoe.
Up. Down. Up. Down. It was a funny sight, but nobody laughed.
Now, two years later, I could hear them fighting again. I was
supposed to be asleep but I wasn’t, I was reading a comic book in bed. I
turned off my lamp and sneaked into the hallway to listen. They were in
the kitchen and they were really going at it. My hidey-hole in the space
under the stairwell was perfect. I could hear every word.
“I’m telling you, Delmas, those women are prostitutes!”
"Woman, get that suspicious mind of yours out of the gutter.
They’re two orphaned girls, all alone in this world. I’d think you’d have
a little compassion.”
“Compassion, Comsmashyum,” Mama said. “They are hookers plain
and simple. You work nights, you don’t hear their johns stumbling up those
stairs and ricocheting off the walls.”
“I’m not working tonight and I don’t hear a thing.”
“No, and you won’t. They don’t get started till after eleven,
when their shifts end at the truck stop. Besides, they know what nights
you’re home, and those nights they’re good little girls. You have no idea
what they’re really like.”
"Look, Lily, I’m sorry I couldn’t get the FBI to do a thorough
investigation into their backgrounds, but J. Edgar said he just couldn’t
handle it on such short notice.”
”Delmas Randolph, you know what you can do with your sarcasm!”
“Well, YOU know we can’t afford this house without renting those rooms and
I’m not kicking Mable and Sadie out just because you don’t like them. I
feel sorry for them, myself.”
“Oh yeah! Poor-little-motherless-waif-prostitutes! You’re a
sap, Delmas, they’ve got you thinking black is white. What you ought to be
doing is worrying more about your own family. Why do you think I let Troy
go back to Vernon to finish school?”
“Because he was homesick. Because he’s a big fish in a small
pond there and here he was a little fish in a big pond. Because he was
unhappy in Birmingham.”
“No. I let him go back because those tramps were always
flirting with him. I was afraid of what might happen.”
“Pshaw! Now you’re getting desperate. I am surprised at you,
Lily. Surprised and very disappointed.”
“Well, put THIS surprise and disappointment in your pipe and
smoke it, Mister. School will be out in three weeks. If those disease
laden tramps are not gone by then, I’m packing the kids up and we’re
heading for Vernon
on a Greyhound.”
“Lily, let me remind you that I am head of this household and
I will not listen to idle threats. This conversation is over!” I heard
the sound of his chair scraping backward on the floor planks and I
high-tailed it back to my room.
The problem was, I had no idea what they were talking about
even though I’d heard what they said. I knew Mable and Sadie lived
upstairs and I knew Mama forbid us kids to go up those stairs, but other
than that, I was at a loss. The thing that intrigued me was Mama saying we
might go back to Vernon.
It was a thrilling proposition. We’d been living in Birmingham less than a
year and I hadn’t learned to like it. I was homesick all the time. You
could put a dozen of my old schools in the one I was going to now, and I
felt lost, like a country bumpkin misfit. I craved my old life and old
friends. I decided to go to the kitchen and ask Mama about things.
“Hey, Mama. We got any milk?” I tried to appear groggy with
sleep, rubbing my eyes, yawning, and stretching my arms. She was still at
the table, and her face was streaked with tears. She sucked in a wobbly
breath and used a corner of the tablecloth to dab at her eyes. It made my
heart hurt.
“Linda Jane, what are you doing up? You don’t like milk. I
have to force you to drink it. Have you been listening outside that door?”
“No ma’am. I mean, yes ma’am.” I was no good at lying. Mama
always knew. Might as well fess up.
“If I had the energy I’d tan your hide, but I’m fresh out.
This is your lucky night. Go back to bed.”
“Mama?”
“Yes, Linda?”
“What’s a prostitute?” She looked like I’d just hit her in the
stomach. Fresh tears sprang into her eyes. I couldn’t stand it. I sat down
in Daddy’s vacated chair and grabbed her hand.
“What is it, Mama?” There was desperation in my voice.
I meant what was wrong with her, but she misunderstood.
“It’s a woman who sells herself to a man.”
“Huh? That’s crazy. Is it like a man would buy a cow or a
mule?”
“Not exactly. It’s something you’re too young to understand
and I can’t explain.”
“Well, I think you’re wrong. I mean, Mable and Sadie live
right here. If they sold themselves to men, the men’d own them and they’d
have to go to their houses. Maybe they just rent themselves out.”
“Child, you’re wise beyond your years. That’s it, exactly.” I
beamed at the compliment. I was still completely bewildered, but Mama
thought I was smart and I wasn’t about to ask another question on that
subject and prove her wrong.
“Mama?”
“What now, Linda?”
“Are we really going back to Vernon if Daddy doesn’t make them
move?”
“You can count on it. I’ve been miserable here anyway. Your
dad can have Birmingham and this ramshackle old house he’s so proud of.”
The house had once been a beautiful mansion, but that was long
ago. If it’d been in Atlanta, it likely wouldn’t have survived the torch
of that scoundrel, General Sherman. Now it was shabby, a thing of faded
glory, with spooky chandeliers and peeling wallpaper. It was drafty and
got so cold in the winter the water in the toilet bowl froze solid.
She sounded like she meant it, but I didn’t really believe her
because one thing I’d always known: Daddy was the boss. Period. Besides,
much as I missed Vernon, it wouldn’t feel right to go without Daddy.
The three weeks passed without Mable and Sadie moving but Mama
didn’t mention them again. She still cooked Daddy’s meals, she still
washed and ironed his clothes, and she still talked to him; but she never
laughed like before and she wore a new look on her face. It was a look of
pain mixed with stoic determination.
The last day of school was just like any other. I had
forgotten all about Mama’s ultimatum. She cooked supper and I washed the
dishes, just like always. Then, at six o’clock Daddy left to catch the bus
for work, and right afterward, Mama hauled out his two old army trunks.
She’d already filled them with every stitch we owned. A little while
later, Mr. Pennington, a man from Vernon who worked in Birmingham but went
home every weekend, showed up. He thought we were going for a visit, and
he was happy to give us a ride. Mama told Clare and Jake we were going on
a long vacation and they were tickled pink. I didn’t contradict her even
though I knew better. The trip took two hours and I worried the whole way
about poor Daddy coming home at three in the morning to find us gone.
Mama, Clare, and Jake moved in with Granddaddy Hicks.
Troy
was already there and, lucky me, due to overcrowding and my persistent
begging, I got to live with Aunt Shale and Uncle Floyd on their farm. I
hate to confess it, but I was so happy to be back and so spoiled by my
aunt and uncle, that I didn’t miss Daddy that much. After two weeks, Mama
got a job at the garment plant, leaving Granddaddy to tend to Clare and
Jake.
The days passed in a contented haze of me doing whatever I
wanted. Nobody heard a word from Daddy. Mama put on a brave front. I don’t
know what she was feeling. Weeks passed and soon it was the middle of
August. I was beginning to think I’d be going to school in Vernon.
Then one Saturday I was in the front yard on the old tire
swing when I saw a car coming down the road in a cloud of dust. It pulled
into the yard and a tall, gaunt man got out. I almost didn’t recognize my
own father. He must have lost twenty pounds. His clothes hung on his big
frame and it was easy to see he hadn’t even stood close to an iron. He was
grinning from ear to ear. I ran fast as I could and threw myself into his
arms. Then I saw he’d picked Mama up on his way out. She was in the front
seat and her face beamed like she’d swallowed a ray of sun. It was an
emotional moment. I tried to think of something warm and tender to say.
“Does this mean the prostitutes are gone?” Oops!
“The prostitutes are gone!” Daddy said. Then he roared
with laughter. I guess nothing could make him mad at that moment.
“Oh! You finally admit they were prostitutes?” Mama said.
She’d left the car and was standing close to him.
“I plead the fifth, woman. Let’s just say our illustrious
boarders moved out with a little nudge from me. That means, sad to say,
we’ll have to find a smaller house. I’m afraid it won’t be near as nice.”
Mama looked at me and winked. The thought of another house not being as
nice as that colossal pile of sticks was a joke Daddy didn’t get.
"Daddy, why don’t you just move down here? Mama and I both hate
Birmingham.”
“Why Linda, wherever did you get such a notion? I
love Birmingham.” My own mother was a traitor.
Daddy had borrowed the car and had to return it the next day,
so this would be the last night in Vernon for all of us except Troy. He
got to stay because he'd be graduating next year and Mama didn’t think it
fair to make him leave. That evening, all the relatives got together and
threw us a going-away feast. It was a good feeling and a bad one to be
leaving. I alternated between laughing and crying. I didn’t really know
what I wanted.
Daddy had picked out the first house. Mama hadn’t been
consulted or even seen it before we moved in. That’s the way Daddy was
before Mama’s ultimatum, when he ruled the roost. This time Mama said
she’d find us a place and, surprisingly, Daddy didn’t argue. It was in
Norwood and it was small but nice, it even had a park in front. I started
a new school and for some reason, maybe because I’d turned twelve in July
and was more worldly and self-confident, I had no trouble adjusting. I
made friends right away and before I knew it, I felt at home in
Birmingham. It wasn’t a bad place. Not bad at all.
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