Two Roads Back Together, page 16
Suddenly, another young man stepped next to Evelyn, disrupting her movement. He was dressed in a dark button-down and slacks with blue Chuck Taylor shoes and he tilted his head to the side with a look of surprise. “Ms. Cole?” he asked, leaning in to speak in Evelyn’s ear over the music. “Yo! Aren’t you Shy’s mom?”
It took a moment for the name to register. “Y-yes. Hi, have we met before?”
“I’m Kris, I’m a good friend of theirs. It’s nice to see you again after so long.” Kris zealously pulled her in for a hug but quickly let go before Evelyn could get too uncomfortable. Really, people were too demonstrative and forward these days. “This is quite the show, huh?” Kris said as they watched the dancers. “Have you come to the festival before?”
“No, this is my first time ever attending.”
“Well hopefully it won’t be your last.” Kris grinned at her. “Did you get anything to eat yet? The food stand is right outside. Plates are five bucks. I’m telling you, they got the best pork hot links this side of town. You have to try a plate.”
She smiled back. “With that kind of endorsement, I might have to get some.”
“Please do. Plus, today all proceeds go towards the Black Street, Arts, and Culture fund. Pops set that up; she’s always doing something to keep the neighborhood thriving. Have you had a chance to see her yet?”
Evelyn’s heart dropped as deep as the bass playing in the background. “Pops? Is she still around?”
“Yeah, she’s inside the store. Would you like to see her?”
“I… I supposed I should, shouldn’t I?” Evelyn murmured. She graciously excused herself from her dance partner and went to retrieve her purse and coat.
The air outside the tent was cool and brisk but the warmth of new faces and good times made it the perfect day. Kris escorted Evelyn outside past the grill pit and a growing line of hungry patrons. Smells of smoked pork backs, grilled thyme and rosemary chicken breast, sweet glazed yellow corn, and sizzling breaded catfish filled the air. The enticing mix of southern soul cuisine aromas stirred memories of Sunday dinners and fish frys.
They walked inside the old bookstore and Evelyn instantly gravitated toward the front-and-center display of indoor plants and herbs. Flowers, vines, and vibrantly colored leaves filled pots brimming with color. A display of picture books, novels, and non-fiction books about gardening, planting secrets, and climate change politics rounded out the entrance. Evelyn’s eyes raced before fixing on a bushy plant with a tie-dye-like pattern. She tugged off her leather gloves and reached out lightly. “Oh my, look at these leaves.”
“Pops would prefer that we refrain from touching them,” Kris broke in, and Evelyn’s hand stopped. Instead, she leaned over the plant before her and breathed in the minty smell. “It smells like tea tree oil. What is the name of this plant?”
“This is the Coleus Blumei, or ‘painted nettle.’ It’s part of the mint family. It has some interesting medicinal properties if you turn it into tea or smoke the shredded leaves. Lots of people around here use this plant to treat high blood pressure, glaucoma… Some swear it helps with certain cancers. I don’t know if that last part is true but I’m certain it couldn’t hurt. At the very least it gives a mild relaxing effect. Ms. Cole, I swear by this plant when I need to de-stress.”
“I see you are quite the plant connoisseur.”
“Definitely. Pops taught me everything I know. Here’s her latest book,” he said, plucking a book from the display stand and handing it to Evelyn. “It’s about life lessons she gathered over the years growing plants and trees. I think you might like it.” Evelyn looked at the glossy cover, her eyes stopping squarely on the author’s name: Casey ‘Pops’ Erickson. Boom-boom. Her heart raced.
Kris leaned closer to her. “I don’t know if you know this, Ms. Cole, but Pops has one of the most amazing gardens out back. You have to see it. And while we’re here, let’s get her to sign this for you,” Kris said. “She’s doing a book signing today, you know.” With an energy that reminded Evelyn of a puppy, Kris loped off in a quick step towards the back. Evelyn, ever the lady, moved at a more sedate pace, peering at her surroundings. The last time she had stepped foot in this store that unpleasant summer. Much of the layout seemed to be the same and she watched a few older patrons perusing books along the walls. The Lorde room was noticeably empty, its lights turned out. There was a young lady in a denim oversized jacket and tight pants standing in front of the signing table, talking animatedly. Pops had not yet noticed her.
Despite her initial misgivings, Evelyn was steady and clear-headed. The euphoria from her previous activities of the afternoon—the poetry and spoken word performances, the rhythmic dancing—had buoyed her spirits. She watched as Pops thanked the young lady and Kris called out, “Yo, Pops.” Was he always so loud and boisterous? Evelyn locked eyes with Pops. Just beneath her shoulder blades, she felt a sudden twinge tension. Boomboom. Her heart beat faster.
Evelyn eyed the woman, who was much older-looking than the Pops of her memories. This Pops wore a casual black button-down shirt and a small neck chain, not the wild and flashy and provocative clothes Evelyn remembered. Her short hair was gone; instead, graying dreadlocks flowed into her lap. She looked so different. Of course, it had been over a decade since she last saw Pops face to face, and at their last meeting Evelyn had been in the full throes of her anger and frustration and fear, but still. Did she appear so changed to Pops?
“Ms. Cole?” Pops seemed surprised, but quickly recovered. “Long time no see. How’ve you been?”
“Fine, just fine, thank you,” Evelyn politely returned aloud, though internally she grimaced. Oh, what on earth was she doing here?
“I’ve been waiting for you to stop in,” Pops said, breaking Evelyn out of her panic before it could fully form. “Would you like to go to the back patio?” Pops struggled to lift themselves as their cane trembled.
"That would be lovely, yes.”
“Now am I gonna have to referee between you two? It was all ‘WWF, let’s get ready to rummbbbblleeeee’ last time y’all two were together.” Kris placed himself between the two ladies.
“Oh Kris! What is wrong with you, young blood?” Pops shooed Kris away with a gentle rap of her cane.
“Where is the love?” Kris yelled back, as he skirted out of reach and returned to the bookstore’s front.
“I supposed we really did put on the show back then,” Evelyn teased quietly, slowly falling into the easy mood. It appeared Pops wasn’t going to berate her or throw her out. She could feel the tension in her back start to loosen and fall away.
“You and me both.” They both laughed. The two mothers made their way out back as the taptaptap of Pops’ cane broke the silence. Pops escorted Evelyn past a short, vibrant tree which was the focal point of the back patio. Two oversized outdoor chairs sat beneath it and overlooked the walled garden. It was a fabulous view of the famous park and the cars sipping up and down Crenshaw Boulevard.
But Evelyn could not take her eyes off the vibrant two-toned tree sitting in the center of the garden under a shade netting that covered the entire patio. She noticed the array of dormant plants, dreaming of spring. The air was heavy with soothing mint that calmed her thudding heart. It was a paradise, and deserved to be praised. “Your patio is gorgeous,” she told Pops with genuine delight. “What an absolutely lovely space.”
“Thank you. This is my peaceful haven away from home.”
“I can see why. And that tree! What is that?”
“That’s a Coleus tree.” Evelyn and Pops took their seats beside the three-foot-tall tree where the soft heat rushed across Evelyn’s petite frame. Small heaters regulated the growing temperature and made the patio a year-round enjoyment.
“Like the Coleus plant out front? Are they really the same?” Evelyn asked.
“Oh yes,” Pops chuckled.
“Well I’ll be. God is truly amazing.”
“Yes...” Pops settled more comfortably in her chair. “Are you having a good time at the festival? That’s what brought you over this way today, yes?”
“Yes and yes, as a matter of fact I am. I’m glad I took the suggestion of my church friends to stop by.”
“Good. I’m glad the word is still getting out about the festival. And I have to say, though I hoped for it, I would never have guessed that you would stop back here again,” Pops said. “Seeing you here, now… Ms. Cole, I thought I had moved on. But I’m feeling all of these emotions rushing back. Not anger, just regret. I wish things could have been different.”
“As do I, Casey.”
Pops took Evelyn’s hand. “You know, Ms. Cole, I look at this moment as a second chance. So whatever it is that allowed us to connect again, I sincerely want you to know I never ever meant to hurt Shy.”
“I know you didn’t, dear,” Evelyn said, her voice was low and comforting. And she meant it. “Recently, my daughter—my child—visited home. It was a nice visit, but her—their—revelation made me realize that I’ve been missing things. I hadn’t realized during our calls that one minute she—they—were happy, the next completely unengaging and distinct.” The new language was still a struggle, but Evelyn was working on it. She sighed. “I’ve had to do a lot of reflecting as of late. I often wondered what it was about this place that seemed to settle Shy.”
“Shy knew they were safe here, Ms. Cole.”
“So she came here to get away from it all. Even me, huh?”
“Well, can you blame them?”
“I suppose not,” Evelyn said slowly. “I wouldn’t have understood back then. I didn’t understand back then, and I’m barely starting to understand now. It just feels so sudden, the changes in how I’ve always though about my daughter—who is no longer ‘daughter’. Everything is a muddle. Makes your head swirl. I was, at first, quite alarmed when Shy came out to me—that’s the term people use these days, right?”
“It’s a process, Ms. Cole. For you and for Shy. It takes time.”
“I am glad Shy is taking steps to reclaim their happiness. You were and always will be special to Shy. I get that... that connection you two have. I admire that,” Evelyn conceded.
“I only did what I thought was right—provide a safe space for a confused kid. Though I admit, I could have addressed things with you differently. Come to talk to you directly, perhaps. Give you the benefit of the doubt, as Shy’s mother, that you’d come to accept them as they are,” Pops said. “There is not a doubt in my heart that you care deeply for Shy.”
“Well, I’d never call myself the feisty type but I find myself so defensive when it comes to Shy. Do you know I almost had a tussle at the last Bible study? The nerve of some of those women trying to come for my child. I was seeing red,” Evelyn huffed.
Shocked, Pops clutched the make-believe pearls around her neck, “You, Ms. Evelyn? No!”
“Oh yes. I did indeed.”
“Well, quiet as it’s kept you’re a real one. You had me questioning my life choices during our disagreement.” They both laughed.
“Truth be told, I’m here because I’m missing my daughter—er, child. I feel like they’re pulling away from me, now that I know the truth. I hate the way we left things when Shy returned to Arizona, but I’m not sure how to reconnect. It’s been a few weeks since then, and we still talk, but it’s not easy conversation. I since there’s something bubbling under the surface and I don’t know how to fix that. I was hoping you might have some insights to share?”
“I respect that,” Pops said. “These sorts of things can be daunting but the signs were always there, Ms Cole. Shy has always been who they are. They just learned to hide in plain sight.”
“Signs?”
“Yes. The evasiveness. The emotional distance. That whole summer when Shy seemed to get into one scrap after another with every neighborhood kid on the block.”
“Oh. Yes.”
“I think it didn’t help that you sent Shy to that ultra-conservative church camp in the middle of nowhere, Texas, either.”
“I thought she—they could use a change of scenery. A new outlet for all that energy. The camp had all of the things Shy loved to do: swimming, painting, basketball. They even had a movie theater.”
“And the scandal at the camp?”
“I never heard anything off-putting. Matter of fact, the camp praised how much Kei--” Evelyn tugged at the ends of her jacket and huffed, before shifting in her seat. For a second, she thought she remembered one of the other parents being angry at the camp for treating their child badly. But she didn't give it any further thought.
“And Shy seemed ok to you when they came back, Ms. Cole?”
“I thought so. Maybe a bit more reserved but I thought that was a good thing considering the spate of scuffles we had endured earlier that summer.”
“Ms. Cole, may I be frank with you?”
“Nothing has stopped you before.”
“I always saw a kid who wanted to say a lot but seemed restrained. You couldn’t see Shy’s turmoil because you never suspected they were different.”
Evelyn looked at Pops blankly.
“Look Ms. Cole, I’m not shaming you. It took me finally becoming a parent myself to understand you more. Parents have so much on their plate that we inadvertently overlook our children’s emotional needs at times. We casually dismiss awkward behavior and fixate on wanting our child to fit in socially. But for some kids, this manner of approach can be problematic.”
“I don’t think that is true. Shy was perfectly normal. They needed a little more direction, maybe to embrace their softness a little more--”
“See, that’s what I mean. Our tendency is to measure them to our yardstick instead of theirs. Shy values their masculinity. It was your insistence that they only retain their femininity that led to Shy being humiliated and ‘disciplined’ at that damn camp,” Pops said, leaning toward Ms. Cole, never removing her steady eyes.
Evelyn felt her pulse pick up and her irritation rise. How dare Pops attack her! Who was this woman to tell Evelyn she had been an unfit mother? And not only that, but that she actually hurt her child? But at the same time, a part of her recognized the truth and she respected Pops’ candor. She took a deep breath, trying to find calm, pushing her ego aside. What was her pride compared to her relationship with Shy? If she truly wanted to make things work she had to set it aside.
Evelyn took a moment as the crowd’s chatter and music filled the space. Pops got up and grabbed a small envelope from the seed bags hanging off the patio nearest her. As she plopped back down and grunted, Pops placed her cane off the back of her chair. Evelyn waited, curious as to what was in the tiny envelope.
“How long have you liked plants, Ms. Cole?”
“Oh, I would say since I was a little girl. They bring such a joy, to see a green and beautiful living thing. And you?”
“A long time, I’d say. But I wasn’t always a plant lover. I grew into it by accident. I used to always be angry, at people, at life, at… really everything. I felt like everyone was against me and I was constantly on edge, waiting to fight. Growing up different, in my case being gay, was like walking with a target on your back. But I discovered a love for plants. Plants don’t ask anything of you. They don’t judge. They just grow, and sometimes under the harshest of conditions. Once I realized that, my entire perspective changed. It changed my life.
“I’ve learned some of my biggest lessons from growing and nurturing plants over the years. Everything you need to know can be learned in nature. You agree, Ms. Cole?” Evelyn nodded at Pops’ insights.
“I’ll never forget opening day at the store. I’d prepared for weeks, fixing up the building, getting stocked and cleaned, advertising in print and by word of mouth. But that day, the big day, I didn’t have a single customer. Not one. As I’m feeling defeated, preparing to close up ten minutes early, this man walked in. He was classically erudite and clearly an established man in the community. He introduced himself as Mr. Mustafa Garrett, and I recognized the name. He was a prolific writer; I even had some of his books on my shelves.
“He looked around my little store, saw the lack of patrons, and noticed my defeat. With an elegant gesture he pulled this little metal box from inside his jacket pocket, then unclasped it. It was full of seeds. He placed the box on my counter and said, ‘As much as I admire what these seeds may become, they will never be anything if I keep them here.’ He then looked at me. ‘But if I drop them into the ground, I have done my divine duty. Never let this cold world try to keep you in a tin box and deprive you of your power, your divine greatness.’
“While I let those words sink in, he looked proudly around the bookstore before he said the last thing to me. He closed the metal box and placed it in my hand. ‘Casey, this place, this bookstore, is your fertile ground. Be earnest in all your deeds and may they always be from a good heart.’ Then he left.
“A few days later, I bought a pot and planted those seeds Mr. Garrett gave me. Weeks later I went to a nursery and purchased a few peppermint plant seeds. I placed the new plants next to the pot with Mr. Garrett’s seeds, right at the front of my store. Now, mind you, I’m a green thumb. The seeds the grower gave me looked identical to the ones in the tin box. It never occurred to me that they were different. But after a month, I realized all the plants had sprouts with full leaves, except for one pot—the one with Mr. Garrett’s seeds. What was going on with this one? I was sure I was giving it adequate sunlight, food, and water. Hell, I even sang lullabies to it.” She chuckled and Evelyn joined in her amusement.
“The other plants were bushy with vibrant green leaves, but the plant from Mr. Garrett’s seeds were wilted and dull-looking. You could see the entire underside of it. It looked pitiful. No matter what I thought it needed, more leaves kept falling into the dirt. Why couldn’t it look like those other plants? What was wrong with it? I had no clue.
“Then one day, on a whim, I decided to move the pot to this back patio. I was willing to try anything at that point. I placed the plant right here, about where you are sitting, where it could soak up the morning sun for a few hours before I took it back in, out of the heat. I did the same thing again. And the next day, when I went to move the plant outside, I noticed something. There were new dark spots growing in the middle of the leaves, all of them. As I inspected the leaves I noticed they had a healthier, more glossy tint and springiness. So I kept this up day after day. A few more weeks passed, and lo and behold, Mr. Garrett’s plant had made a near-complete transformation. It had just needed a change of environment, one that included direct sunlight. My plant was now a bushy starburst of bright purplish-red leaves with spider-eyed yellow edges. The pot was brimming with dense with colorful leaves. The plant was simply stunning.”
