mighty nice today,” he told me, looking me up and down with wide eyes and a big grin. He was a stocky, dark brown Black man around thirty, with shiny black eyes and a gold tooth in front.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, clearing my throat, thinking that if I didn’t make too much eye contact he would stop talking.
“You got any plans for Thanksgivin’?” he asked. I was too dazed to realize what he was up to. I just shook my head. “I’m right across the hall from you, and I ain’t got no plans neither. All my folks and friends back in Georgia. I just joined this real nice church, reminds me of the one I belonged to back home, that’s providin’ dinner for the homeless and folks alone like me and you…” His voice trailed off. “They servin’ them dinners today instead of tomorrow on account of the church folks with families want to spend the Thanksgivin’ Day at home.”
I turned and looked him straight in the eye. “What?”
He pressed his lips together and coughed before speaking again. “You welcome to go with me to that church dinner this evenin’. It’s the Church of God in Christ over on Patterson Street, six blocks from here. Dinner is at six this evenin’—”
“I can’t—I mean I’ll let you know,” I said. When the elevator stopped I almost knocked him over trying to get out so fast. Normally I would have flat out turned him down. But I had too many other things on my mind. One of the things being the vodka in my purse. I fished it out, opened it, and starting drinking straight out of the bottle before I even took my so-called power suit off. The alcohol affected my brain immediately.
By the time I had finished half of the vodka I was not only drunk but depressed as hell. I took off my suit and slid into a pair of blue corduroy pants and a T-shirt. I just knew the lady from the newspaper personnel office had no intentions of hiring a big. fat Black oaf like me, and I knew I would not hear from any of the other jobs I had interviewed for. Since the day I was born, this was the first Thanksgiving, or first holiday period, I would spend completely alone. It had started to get dark, and I had not turned on the light in my room yet. But there was enough light shining through my window from a bar and other business neons outside. I sat on the bed and stared at the wall. After a few minutes, I staggered to the window and stared out of it for a while. Both sides of the street had people rushing to and from somewhere. Even though November was a cold month in Erie, I was sweating like a hog. That’s why I opened the window, or at least that’s what I told myself. With that cold wind slapping against my burning face and hot tears streaming down my cheeks, I decided I had had enough. My life had become my worst enemy. Where was God now? The alcohol felt like it had burned a hole in my brain, my stomach, and even my soul, but it made things look so much better. One was the ground below. All I had to do was squeeze through that window and jump. I chuckled, thinking what a mess I’d be for somebody to scrape up off the sidewalk. Seconds later, at the same time, somebody knocked on the door and the phone rang. It took me a few moments to refocus my attention.
“I’ve left so many messages!” Rhoda began in a piercing loud voice as soon as I grabbed the phone. Whoever was at the door sounded like they were trying to come through it.
“Rhoda, hold on a minute,” I told her. I ran to the door and cracked it open. It was the man from across the hall who had talked to me in the elevator. “Yes.”
“I just wanted to drop off one of them dinners from the church since you wasn’t able to make it. It ain’t the best, but it’s better than that slop they servin’ downstairs at the Richland Hotel Restaurant this evenin’. You have a nice rest of the day, sister, and a happy holiday if I don’t see you tomorrow.” He handed me a large brown bag that was still warm. Then he nodded and turned to leave.