Mama, page 15
"I thought you said you could swim."
"I can, but I don't have no bathing suit. I didn't bring one. Didn't know I was gon' be this close to water."
"Put this on," Freda said, going to her closet and handing her a one-piece Hawaiian print. She had bought it for Mildred because she knew her mother was going to have some excuse. Mildred took the suit into the bedroom and Freda followed her. They both removed their clothes and tried not to notice each other's bodies. They couldn't help looking. Mildred's breasts looked like someone was pulling them down. But aside from the stretch marks and a few too many pounds, for thirty-seven, Freda thought, Mildred still looked pretty good. Not like she'd had five babies. And peeking over at Freda, Mildred remembered that her own hips used to be that narrow and her waist used to clench like that too. Damn, Freda's skin was so smooth and firm. Mildred pulled the straps of her suit across her shoulders and didn't bother looking in the mirror.
They took turns diving and doing laps and relaxed on the lounge chairs. Mildred didn't like the wine. "Oooh, this stuff is so bitter, ain't a drop of sugar in here, is it?"
"It's not supposed to be sweet, Mama. It's a dry wine. They say the drier it is the better quality it is."
"Is that right," Mildred said, sipping it slowly, after watching how gracefully Freda drank hers. And the more she drank, the better it tasted. She leaned her head back and stared up at the clear blue sky. I could get used to living like this, she thought. But she didn't dare let Freda know what she was thinking. She didn't know how Freda would feel about her and the kids moving out here. Freda was so independent, now that she was on her own. Maybe she would think her mother was following her, or moving out here just to check up on her. Which would be half true.
Freda pulled up another lounge chair beside her and put her sunglasses on. Her dark skin looked glazed against her white bikini, but she massaged another layer of suntan oil on top of the latest coat of color anyway.
They were both silent for almost ten minutes.
"You probably gon' stay out here, then, huh?" Mildred asked.
"I don't know, Mama. It's nice out here, and I'm getting a free education."
Mildred nodded her head up and down in agreement. Freda stared at her through her dark glasses. Her mama looked so relaxed. She wished she had enough money to move the whole family out here. But all Freda had in the bank was $234.
"There're opportunities out here for all kinds of people, and it doesn't seem to matter what color you are. As long as you've got a skill, you can find a job." Freda felt like she might as well have just bit her tongue. She knew Mildred had only done day work, cooked in restaurants, and worked in factories. There weren't any factories in LA. And she also knew Mildred wasn't getting back on her knees again. And working in a restaurant? Well, she'd see.
But Mildred hadn't taken it that way. The way she figured it, she could get qualified for damn near anything. Hell, if Freda wasn't but twenty years old and could come all the way out here and make it, surely, she could come out here and learn how to do something worthwhile. LA. wasn't that big of a deal.
"Everybody miss you, Freda."
"Who is everybody?"
"Me. And the kids."
"I miss all of you too, Mama. But I swear, I can't go back to that place. A person could rot away there."
"You got a boyfriend?"
"Not really."
"What's wrong with you? You can't tell me you on your own and you ain't screwing."
Freda was embarrassed. She had never talked about this kind of stuff with her mama before. "Well, yes, I'm going out with someone, if that's what you mean."
"Chile, please, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Is he good?"
"Mama!"
"Aw, you can stop that little innocent act with me. I saw that diaphragm in your bathroom."
"You've been rambling in my drawers?"
"I was looking for some bobby pins," Mildred said, laughing. "At least you know how to protect yourself. It's a relief to know that." She took another sip of her wine. "You ever want kids?" she asked, seemingly out of nowhere.
"Of course I want to have kids, Mama."
"How many?"
"I don't know. How am I supposed to know?"
"Well, you should have some general idea. One, two, three, how many?"
"Two."
"That's all! You'd hardly even know they was there."
"Two is enough to keep you busy."
"What about a husband?"
"What do you mean, what about a husband?"
"You want to get married, don't you?"
"Well, of course, if I want to have kids, most likely I want to get married."
"Just when you plan on doing that?"
"When I meet someone I love and someone who wants to marry me. I'm going for a swim," Freda said and dived back into the pool.
Mildred watched her baby swimming back and forth through the turquoise-blue water. She refilled her glass, but left it sitting on the cement. She wiped the sweat from her forehead. The sun was blinding. Then she put on Freda's sunglasses and closed her eyes.
Freda was still just a child, Mildred thought. And Mildred had always worried about her. She remembered one of those hot muggy summer nights when Freda was a baby. Crook was supposedly at the Shingle. She had put Freda in bed with her while she watched TV because she was lonely. Crook had warned her that the baby would get spoiled, too used to sleeping with them, and he had insisted that she sleep in her crib. But how would he know when he wasn't here? As Mildred was watching the television, a mosquito swerved past the screen. Freda already had two purple bruises on her tiny arms where she'd been bitten a few days ago. Mildred wasn't about to let her get bit again. She pulled the top sheet up under Freda's chin and got up from the bed. Then she closed the bedroom door and made sure the window screens were secure. Mildred lay down on top of the sheets and waited. If it was going to bite anybody it was going to be her. She waited some more. She was tired, but kept her eyes wide open. Finally, Mildred felt something soft land on her arm and she slapped it so hard she hurt herself. She walked over to the window to use the light from the moon, and sure enough, she had smashed the damn bug. There wasn't a drop of blood in it, either. With relief she slid under the sheets next to her baby and wrapped her inside her arms. Something Mildred had not done since.
Now, whenever the phone rang late at night, Mildred's heart would pound like crazy because she just knew it was somebody calling to tell her that her baby had drowned, had been hit by a car or was in a horrible accident. Something tragic. And for the past two years Mildred had to keep reminding herself that that baby was a woman now, just like she was.
"Are you seeing someone, Mama?" Freda asked, startling her. She was standing in front of Mildred, blocking the sun's rays and drying herself with a light blue beach towel.
"Like who?"
"Come on, I mean, are you in love with anyone?"
"Chile, the only thang worth loving in that town now is your dog or cat, and I ain't got neither one."
Freda could hear Mildred's bitterness. And she wondered what it felt like to have had five kids, three unsuccessful marriages, and have nothing to do now but sit around and watch your children grow up and leave you one by one.
"You ever thought about what you would do when all of us are gone, Mama?"
Mildred suddenly felt like she had a migraine headache. She never got headaches.
"Girl, Doll ain't but fifteen, I got at least four or five years to be worrying about something like that."
"But have you ever thought about what you're going to do?"
Mildred did not like being put on the spot like this. Do? She wasn't prepared for this kind of question. She hadn't ever thought about what she would do when her kids grew up. She didn't know what she was going to do. Shit. How in the hell was she supposed to know?
"I might go back to school," she said on the spur of the moment, just to get an answer out. Now that she'd said it, it didn't sound bad at all.
"School?" Freda was just as surprised to hear it as Mildred had been saying it.
"Yeah, school, I might just go back to school."
Freda wasn't about to ask her exactly what she would go back for. "That sounds great, Mama. I sure hope you do. It's not too late, either."
"I'll put it this way," Mildred said. "If Money keep his act up, he gon' either be dead or in prison for the rest of his life. He still on that shit, and ain't nothing nobody say to him works. He hardheaded and act like he doing this to get back at me or something. And that Bootsey. She getting so grown I could strangle her sometimes. I don't have no trouble out of Angel. And Doll, if I could pay somebody to give her an ounce of common sense, I would."
Freda started laughing, but not because what Mildred had said was funny. God, Freda thought, how can you save your family from itself?
"I don't want to get as black as you, chile, I'm going upstairs. You coming?"
"Nope, I think I'm going to do a few more laps and swim off some of this wine. I don't like to drink this much, and this sun is giving me more of a buzz than I wanted."
That night the two of them stayed up drinking until almost three o'clock in the morning. Then they crawled into Freda's double bed and said goodnight to each other, but Freda was too wired up to fall asleep. A yellow glow from the streetlight filtered throughout the room. It was so quiet, to Freda it felt like they were the only two people in the world.
She was thinking about all the times she used to sneak in bed with Mildred. Crook was still in the sanitarium then. Freda loved nestling up next to Mildred's warm body.
"Is that you, Freda?" Mildred always asked, knowing full well it was.
Freda always had some excuse. "Mama, Bootsey keep taking up all the room, and she likes to push her knees against mine and—"
"Get on in here, girl," Mildred would say, and she'd lift the covers back and act like she was shuffling around to make room for her, but really wouldn't move an inch. She loved the way her daughter felt against her skin.
"Mama, you asleep?" Freda asked Mildred now.
"Almost. One more drank and my head would be spinning."
"If you can scrounge up the plane fare for everyone to come back out here, I'll help you find a job and a place to stay."
"That's sweet, Freda, but I have to thank about it. You talking about making a pretty big move. Now go to sleep, we'll talk about it tomorrow." Mildred closed her eyes and tried to wipe the grin off her face. She had made up her mind this afternoon that she was coming back. Shit. She wanted the other kids to get the same introduction to the good life that Freda was getting. And Freda had sure changed. She was so much sharper and alert, even sounded wiser. And she wasn't just her daughter any more, this person was her new friend.
They overslept.
"Aw, shit, Freda," Mildred said as she was hurrying to pack the next morning. "You forgot to remind me!"
"Remind you about what?"
"You were supposed to pluck my eyebrows this time like yours!"
"Oh, Mama. I thought it was something important."
"It is important. I want to look different when I get home."
"You do look different. You're two shades darker, and you look rested."
"I sure do, don't I?" Mildred said, smiling to herself in the mirror. "I sure do." If this place and this lifestyle could make her look this good in just two weeks, Lord, what would years do?
"Here, Mama, take these," Freda said, handing her a pair of earrings. They were shaped like half moons.
Mildred took them gladly.
"Thank you, Freda. I didn't want to tell you this, but you know that pretty red brassiere you had in your drawer?"
"Had?"
"I borrowed it. I ain't never seen a brassiere that red before. Okay?"
"It's quite okay, Mama. I put it there so you would see it."
"Do me one favor, though, would you, baby?"
"What's that?"
"Promise me you'll start wearing one regularly so they won't be hanging down to your navel."
"I promise, I promise, I promise!"
They were announcing the last call for Mildred's plane when they reached the ticket counter. She kissed Freda on the cheek, but there wasn't any time to hug. Mildred was already inside the entrance gate, running, waving, and yelling. "Just give me a minute to get my money together, baby, and we'll be back out here so fast it'll make your head swim."
Twelve
POINT HAVEN HAD SHRUNK. Seemed like Mildred had been gone a year instead of just fifteen days. The streets looked narrower and shorter, the houses old and rickety. Even the people in South Park looked like they had aged and their clothes looked like they were from another era. Mildred's front yard was nothing more than a patch of grass to her now. Hell, she'd seen rolling hills and green mountains, mansions hanging off cliffs, had eaten Chinese, Italian, and Mexican food, and had shopped in Beverly Hills. Mildred felt like she'd stretched out like a rubber band and now she'd been snapped back into reality.
"So, how was it?" Bootsey asked, "I bet Miss Show and Tell went all out for you, huh?"
"You know, you got a smart-ass mouth. One day it's gon' get you into trouble. I had a ball. Angel, get those clothes off the line, would you? And where's Doll?" Mildred asked.
"She went to K-Mart."
"With what and with who?"
"I don't know," Angel said. She was busy reading a teen magazine with the Jackson Five on the cover.
"Where's Money?"
"Upstairs, asleep, where else?" said Bootsey.
"Wake his ass up. And them clothes better all be ironed. I told you before I got back I wanted everythang in this house cleaned and pressed."
"They almost finished. God. What you want me to do, go wake Money up or keep on ironing?" Bootsey had her hands on her hips, a smirk on her face, and all of her weight on one leg. Mildred got on her nerves. Always ordering her around like she was her slave or something. Ever since Freda left, seemed like Mildred just picked and picked at her. And if Bootsey could have hauled off and smacked her and gotten away with it, Mildred's face would've been purple by now. But she couldn't, and the closest she could get was aggravating the hell out of her. Bootsey was glad Freda was gone, because it made her the oldest. She had tried to fill Freda's shoes by bossing the other two girls around in Mildred's absence, but most of the time they just ended up arguing or shoving each other. Bootsey was sick and tired of all of them, and was even more tired of listening to Mildred bragging about Freda day in and day out. That's all she talked about. Freda this and Freda that. But Freda wasn't all that hot. She had knock knees and a wide face and a lead lip, and only had one boyfriend the whole time she was in high school and he dropped her for a college girl. Just 'cause she done moved to California, Bootsey thought, she thank she Miss It.
"Bootsey, don't stand there all day lolly-gagging, girl, 'cause I'm tired and ain't in the mood to be tested."
Bootsey marched up the steps, stomping her feet and mumbling something under her breath.
"Mama said wake up, Money." He was a mess. Still had his clothes on and wasn't even in his own bed. Sometimes when he came home at daybreak, he'd fall asleep downstairs in the middle of the living room floor. Now he was in Angel's twin bed. He was always so high these days that half the time he didn't know where he was when he woke up. He lifted his head slowly and rolled over.
"You better get your ass up before Mama come up here and see you like this."
"I'm coming," he said, dragging himself out of bed. He walked into the bathroom and threw some cold water on his face. He looked like he'd been beaten up and he felt even worse.
Mildred was on the phone when he came downstairs.
"I want to know how much it cost to rent a U-Haul one way to Los Angeles." She was waiting for the answer when she noticed him in the doorway. She shook her head back and forth, as if to say, "pitiful."
"I said one way. Oh." Then Mildred hung up the phone.
"Boy, if you know how you look."
"How you doing, Ma?"
"Better than you are, that's for damn sure."
"What's with the U-Haul."
"We moving to California."
"What?" he asked.
"Not me," said Bootsey, walking into the room with a pillowcase in her hands. "I'm not going noplace."
"What do you mean you ain't going? You go where I tell you to go," Mildred said.
"I'm getting married."
"You getting what?"
"You heard me, I said I'm getting married."
Money flopped down on the couch. He knew this was going to be yet another episode in their long-running drama. He was fed up with all of them and their little troubles. He was the one who was going through real changes, but nobody wanted to hear his problems. They didn't want to know that he was sick inside, that he couldn't get a grasp on himself, and the sad part was, he didn't know why. The only time he found relief was when he pushed that needle into his veins. Usually it made the turmoil and confusion stop scrambling around in his head. But sometimes it did just the opposite. Made him think too much about everything. And to put his thoughts in reverse, he got higher and higher. He kept hoping he would reach a plateau where everything would become transparent. Just clear up.
Angel put her magazine down so she could hear this too.
Mildred was eyeing Bootsey. "You pregnant?"
"No, I am not pregnant. I love David and he loves me."
"Love? You ain't but seventeen years old. What the hell do you think you know about love? You done got your first piece of ass and it done got so good that you thank it's love. You just like the rest of them Peacocks. Your brains is all in your behind."
"We ain't done nothing like that." Bootsey lied with a straight face. But the truth was David had given her everything she hadn't gotten from Mildred or Crook. He was affectionate, kind, gentle, and spoiled her rotten. Anything Bootsey wanted, he gave it to her. All she had to do was sort of bat her eyes at him and give him one of Mildred's most cogent smiles, and he was hooked. Bootsey was his Barbie doll.
David had let Mildred know his feelings about Bootsey from the start. He knew he was too old for the girl, but he promised Mildred he wouldn't do anything to hurt her daughter. "Yeah, you better not," she'd warned him. "And don't send her home pregnant, either, or I'll blow your brains out."
