Across the Way, page 22
“That ain’t what I meant—”
I cut Willie Frank off because I didn’t need to hear what he meant. I knew it had something to do with us chastising Odell. If Joyce was home alone, that meant she probably hadn’t confronted him. So, if he was going to do something to us, it wouldn’t be until he got home on Sunday. “Uh . . . when you come back, bring your shotgun, just in case. Now go home and get some sleep. It’s a long drive to Huntsville.”
CHAPTER 40
JOYCE
I STOPPED CRYING WHEN I NOTICED HOW MANY FOLKS WERE STARING at me as I stumbled down the street. I pulled a handkerchief out of my purse and dried my eyes and blew my nose. I had a lot more tears to shed. But first I had to figure out what I was going to do next, and how I was going to get back to my house.
I kept seeing Odell and that woman and those children in my head. What I’d heard him say was ringing in my ears over and over. At one point I covered my ears and closed my eyes. But I could still see and hear him in my mind. They looked like the perfect American family. That woman was living the life I’d been cheated out of. She’d been blessed with three children, and I hadn’t had one. What could I have done for God to let this happen to me? I regretted that last thought immediately. One thing I didn’t need to do was blame God for Odell’s actions. I still had enough faith left to believe that something positive would come out of this nightmare.
My mind played tricks on me as I wandered up and down streets I’d never been on before. My head was spinning, I was seeing dots in front of my eyes, and my insides felt like somebody had tied them in knots. If all that wasn’t bad enough, I felt like I had fallen into a black hole that didn’t have a bottom. With so much going on, I was still determined not to let Odell’s behavior destroy me. I had to pull myself out of that hole now. That thought was enough to jolt me back to reality. I suddenly felt stronger.
However, despite the fact that I was feeling better, I still roamed around until my legs started cramping.
When I finally came to another restaurant with colored people going in, I went in, too. It was a dreary-looking rib joint with dingy windows, a gummy floor, and mismatched tablecloths. There was a small Christmas tree loaded down with ornaments and tinsel sitting on a table in a corner. With all the satisfied-looking patrons gobbling up their ribs so fast, I knew I couldn’t have picked a better place to hole up in until I felt relaxed enough to make my next move. “Merry Christmas, ma’am,” a cute young waitress greeted at the door.
“Um . . . the same to you.” I was in such a daze, I almost tripped over my feet. Christmas—and no other day—would ever be “merry” for me again.
“Sit wherever you want. I’ll get you a menu.”
“I don’t need a menu. I just want a glass of water.” I dropped down into a metal chair at a table with squeaky legs a few feet away from the door.
“I’m sorry. You have to order something if you want to sit at this table. Otherwise, I can give you some water, but you’ll have to take it to go.”
“I’d like a rib sandwich.”
“You want potato salad or coleslaw? And mild, medium, or hot sauce?”
“Mild. And I don’t need any salad or coleslaw.”
“You have to pay for it anyway so you might as well take it.”
Somehow, I managed to smile. “Okay. I’ll take some coleslaw.”
After the waitress finished scribbling my order on her notepad, she looked at me and squinted. “You ain’t from around here, huh?”
“No, I’m not.”
“I didn’t think so. This is a small town. I know almost every colored person in it.”
Her last sentence really got my attention. “Oh? Do you know a light-skinned woman with long hair named Betty Jean?”
She tilted her head to the side and gave me a pensive look. “I know three Betty Jeans. They all light skinned and got long hair”
“This one has three little boys.”
“Hmmm.” The waitress pressed her lips together and scratched her head. “All three of them women got kids, but the only one with three boys is Betty Jean, Odell Watson’s wife. How do you know her? Is she kin to you?”
“I’m kin to Odell. He’s hard to keep track of. I thought maybe I’d catch up with Betty Jean and leave a message with her for him.”
“Well, he’s usually home by this time every Friday, so you can tell him yourself. They love to entertain company. I know they’d be pleased to see you. What’s your name?”
“Uh . . . Lula.”
“Well, Lula. If you don’t see them today, I’ll let them know I talked to you when I see them at church on Sunday.”
“Okay.”
“Betty Jean is such a lucky woman to have a man like Odell. You wouldn’t believe the fat, sloppy, clumsy ox I’m married to—dagnabbit. Odell makes such good money, she don’t have to work, so she stays home puttering around the house every day waiting for him to come home. He brings her roses several times a month—sometimes three whole dozen at a time.” Roses had been my favorite flowers until now. I sniffed and listened as the waitress went on. “A lot of folks visit her, but she will rarely go out unless it’s with him. I tease her all the time. I tell her that if she ever dumps Odell, I’m going to snatch him up.” The waitress laughed and to my surprise, I laughed, too. “You going to go visit them?”
“Um . . . I’d like to. But there was a mix-up with the friends I came over here with. We got separated, so I need to try and find them first. Besides, I’m not sure about Odell and Betty Jean’s address.”
The waitress waved her hand. When she started talking again, the words poured out of her mouth like water. “Pffft. Their house ain’t hard to find. I’ll give you directions. And let me tell you, the one they live in now is a lot better than that last place they had. Odell and Betty Jean spent oodles of money decorating this one with nice ruffle-edged curtains, and furniture you’d expect to see in a white family’s house. Betty Jean had a big Thanksgiving celebration this year. Me and my husband and our two kids was there, along with our preacher and his wife. The only thing is, she had to have it the day after the holiday because Odell couldn’t be there until then. He’s a traveling salesman and spends most of his weekdays on the road. Anyway, he was back home bright and early Friday morning. Just like he’d promised Betty Jean he would be. Matter of fact, she told me he ain’t never let her down. Every time he tells her he is going to do something, he always come through. I love reliable men.”
“So do I,” I muttered.
“And that Friday after Thanksgiving, like every other Friday, he brung all kinds of nice things for Betty Jean and the kids. This time he even brung me some face powder and a corset. That company he works for let him take anything he wants. Every weekend when he gets back in town, his car is loaded down with boxes and boxes of clothes, food, smell-goods, and household items. His bosses must really be crazy about him.”
“I’m sure they are,” I hissed. I cringed and my head started throbbing when I tried to imagine how much money and merchandise Odell had stolen from my family over the years. No wonder that devil had left me so early the Friday morning after Thanksgiving. Just thinking about our “romantic” night the day before made me sick to my stomach. I couldn’t even wrap my brain around the things I’d heard about Odell so far. But his claiming to be a traveling salesman and entertaining his preacher and other folks took the cake. “In case I decide to visit Odell and Betty Jean today, is their house close enough I can walk to it from here?”
The waitress looked at the heels I had on. Then she squinted at the blouse and skirt I had spent so much time picking out for my special supper with Yvonne and Milton. “Yeah, you can walk it. It might be hard on your feet in them shoes, though. But it ain’t that far.” She squinted again. This time she focused on my tearstained face. “Ma’am, you all right? I can see that you been boo-hooing. There is even tearstains on the front of your pretty blouse. Did somebody jump you?”
“Oh, I’m all right. A car almost ran me down a few blocks from here and it shook me up.” I cleared my throat and put on as happy a face as I could. I even chuckled. “I feel like such a crybaby.”
“I know what you mean. I got hit by a man driving a mule-wagon one day. I didn’t get hurt. But it shook me up so bad, I squawked like a parrot. Now, every time I see a mule or a wagon, I panic.”
“Um . . . now how do I get to Betty Jean’s house?”
The waitress pointed at the door. “When you leave here, turn left and walk all the way to the end of the road until you get to a bait shop at the end of the block. Turn right. Walk all the way to the end of that road until you get to a church with a great big statue on the front lawn of Jesus holding a lamb. That’s my church. Odell and Betty Jean and their boys belong to it, too. Odell is a usher and our treasurer, and Betty Jean sing in the choir.”
Treasurer? There was no doubt in my mind that part of the money those people had trusted him with, was going in his pocket, too.
The more I heard about the secret life Odell had been leading, the angrier I got. My heart felt like it had dropped down to my feet, and there were other parts of my body I couldn’t even feel. A lump that felt like it was the size of an apple was lodged in my throat. I was surprised I could still function.
“Since you didn’t order no drink, do you still want some water, too? Or a bottle of Dr. Pepper?”
“No, thank you. Now let me ask you one more thing. Is there a telephone here I can use?” I prayed that Patsy was home when I called and could come pick me up.
“Go to the back of the room. It’s right next to the toilet. Is it a local call?”
“Yes, it is.” I was lying but I didn’t care. I had been basically honest all my life and look what it had got me. It seemed like the folks who told the most and biggest lies always got what they wanted. It was too soon for me to know how I was going to live the rest of my life. One thing I did know was that I’d never be the same fool twice.
When the waitress left to go get my order, I went to use the telephone. Patsy had gone out for the evening, so I called up two of my other coworkers. They had company and neither one knew how to get to Hartville. I couldn’t call up Daddy because I’d have to explain to him what I was doing in Hartville without a ride. I knew it was going to be hard enough on him and Mama when I told them about Odell, and I wanted to spare them as much misery as possible for as long as I could. If I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, I couldn’t imagine how all this was going to affect them.
A few minutes after I returned to my table, the waitress came back with my order. “Okay. Now do you need anything else? We have pecan pie for dessert.”
“No, this is enough. But I need to ask you something else. In case I don’t find my friends and have to get home another way, is there a bus that goes to Branson?”
“Yeah. You can catch it a few blocks from here on the same side of the street. Go left when you leave here. The last one going out of town today will be leaving in about six or seven minutes, if it’s on time. If you don’t catch it, the next one won’t come until eight o’clock tomorrow morning, if it’s on time.”
I immediately paid the waitress and had her wrap my order to go. It was a good thing I left when I did; and ran all the way. The bus was just about to leave when I got there.
I was so overwhelmed and exhausted I almost accidentally sat down in a vacant seat. It was in the front of the bus, where colored folks were not allowed to sit. I caught myself before the driver and the white folks in the front had time to make a fuss and flag down a policeman. I claimed the last empty seat in the back and set the bag with my food on the floor because I had no appetite. Within minutes after the bus pulled away from the curb, I closed my eyes and dozed off. A dream of myself running toward Mobile Bay to jump in, jolted me awake. I had slept almost all the way home. When I got off at the corner of my block, I felt like a zombie and probably looked like one as I walked toward my house.
Willie Frank’s truck was parked in front of Yvonne and Milton’s house, so I knew they had made it back home. I had no idea what I would say when I saw them again. And only God knew what they’d say to me.
When I got inside my house, I dropped my purse and the bag with my ribs onto the living-room coffee table. I made a beeline for the kitchen and poured myself a large glass of the strongest whiskey we had in the house.
I returned to the living room, kicked off my shoes, and stretched out on the couch. I gulped down half of my drink in one pull. I couldn’t relax because my mind was all over the place. I wasn’t just angry with Odell, I was so mad with myself I wanted to kick my own behind. How had I been so naïve and stupid? Was I so blindly in love with that devil I couldn’t see what other women would have seen with their eyes closed? What woman in her right mind would have believed he was spending so much time with his daddy and not checked it out? Was it because I was not in my right mind? On top of everything else, now I was worried about my mental state. The wonderful life I’d had until a few hours ago was over. Without Odell and no children, what did I have to look forward to now? The answer to that question came to me right away. I still had my parents, my job, my health, and some good friends. What I was going through was enough to drive any woman insane. But I had too much to lose to end up drooling and spewing gibberish in the state asylum. I was determined to stay well-grounded and focused for as long as I could.
“Joyce, be strong. You’ll get through this. The situation could be a lot worse,” I told myself out loud. I had to laugh to keep from crying some more because I couldn’t think of any situation that could be worse.
More disturbing thoughts entered my mind. Odell had taken up with a woman so beautiful, I wondered what he thought each time he made love to a plain Jane like me. And those kids. Lord have mercy. I hadn’t been able to give him even one, and he’d found a woman, a younger one at that, who had given him three. I wondered why he hadn’t divorced me and married Betty Jean so he wouldn’t have had to lie and sneak around. I answered that question myself, too: money. Without his job, he’d be as poor as a church mouse.
I wanted to cry some more. But I was so angry, I couldn’t squeeze out another tear if I tried right now. Questions kept bouncing around in my head. How would I be able to live next door to Yvonne and Milton now? Why had they taken so long to tell me about Betty Jean? Just thinking about how they and Odell had kept me in the dark made my blood boil. What had Odell said or done to make them finally tell me? I had no idea what was going to happen to those two lowlifes, but Odell was going to go down like a lead balloon. My life had been turned upside down. However, I was not going to let this setback set me back. I knew that if I worked and prayed hard enough, and kept my guard up, I could still have a future worth looking forward to.
I finished my drink in one gulp. My head felt like somebody had batted it with a mallet. Now that I knew how to get to Betty Jean’s house, I’d be paying her a visit—maybe even tomorrow while Odell was still there. I couldn’t wait to see his reaction when he realized the jig was up for him. His suffering was going to be of biblical proportions.
CHAPTER 41
ODELL
THIS MORNING, A FEW MINUTES AFTER I GOT TO HARTVILLE, ME AND the boys took a walk out to the woods about a mile from our house and chopped down a Christmas tree. We decorated it as soon as we got home. Betty Jean hung up garlands in every room and put a wreath on the back of our front door.
On the way to Po’ Sister’s Kitchen to eat supper this evening, we decided to sing some Christmas songs in the car. The kids loved “Jingle Bells,” so we sung it two times in a row. Then we sung my favorite, “Joy to the World.” After that, Betty Jean insisted on us singing “Silent Night.” She even cried when we finished. “I declare, Odell. Every time I hear that song, I get emotional.” She sniffled.
“Baby, this is the time of year when almost everybody gets emotional about something,” I said with a heavy sigh.
We enjoyed our supper, and conversated with some of the staff and a few of our other friends. By the time we left, the place had so many customers, we had to push our way through the crowd to get back outside.
When we got in the car and pulled away from the curb, Betty Jean gave me a curious look. “Odell, I wonder what all them folks in line outside was buzzing about when we came out?”
“I heard a man say something about a woman stumbling out of the restaurant, hollering and screaming and running down the middle of the street. Probably just one of them slow-wit retarded souls having a fit,” I replied, cranking up the motor.
“That poor woman. I bet it was because of a man.”
“I bet it was, too. Even retarded women can be fools when it comes to men. I’m glad we didn’t witness it. Something like that would have gave the boys nightmares and I—” A commotion in the back seat interrupted me. “Boys, stop kicking and punching one another or I’m going to get back out of this car and go get a switch,” I scolded. The chaos stopped right away. I rarely had to whup my boys, but I was the kind of parent who believed in chastising kids whenever it was necessary. Usually, a warning about a switch was all it took for them to act right. They was as quiet as mice now, and that made me beam with pride on how well we was raising them. Another thing I believed in was rewarding good behavior. “Y’all want to sing some more songs, or want me to tell a Christmas story?”
“Daddy, tell us the one again about the three wise guys that came to bring presents to baby Jesus when he was born,” Daniel said with a anxious look on his face.
Me and Betty Jean laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Daniel asked.
“Son, it’s not ‘wise guys,’ it’s the three wise men,” I corrected. All three boys sat still and didn’t say another word until after I finished telling the story. It was one of their favorites and I enjoyed telling it.
When we got in the house, the boys ran to their room. Me and Betty Jean took off our coats, hung them on the hook by the door, and eased down on the living-room couch. “Baby, thanks for picking out such a nice tree.”
