“From school. The one you flattened on prom night,” he said, laughing. “She was here to get her hair trimmed, but she showed up early. Daddy let her in, then he left before I could get out of the shower.”
I got silent because I didn’t know what to say.
“You still there?” Pee Wee asked, clearing his throat.
“Uh-huh. Um…I thought that sounded like Lena,” I snarled. We only talked for a few minutes more. Things were fairly normal in Richland, and he didn’t have a lot to tell me.
I didn’t tell Rhoda right away, but I had begun to have more nightmares about Mr. Boatwright, what he had done to me, and what she had done to him.
One night I woke up with my gown soaked with sweat and the insides of my thighs throbbing. Another time I was thinking about him while I was cutting up a chicken and I took the knife and started stabbing the chicken all over. There were times when I showered seven, eight times a day trying to wash away the pain and anger he had caused me. Rhoda was still the only person I could talk to about Mr. Boatwright.
“I’m sorry to be calling you this late,” I told her one night after midnight. “I was having another nightmare about Mr. Boatwright and I needed you to get me through the rest of tonight. Please.”
“I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you.” Rhoda listened to me babble for a whole hour.
“Before I hang up, I just want you to know, I would do anything in this world for you, Rhoda. All you have to do is ask.” I meant it. If she had asked me to give up Erie and move to Florida to help them run the farm, I would have. “Do you hear me, girl?”
She mumbled something under her breath.
“Huh?” I said.
“I was talkin’ to Jock,” she told me. “He is so fucked up in the head sometimes we have to tie him to the bed so we can get some sleep.”
“Wouldn’t he be better off in one of those army hospitals?” I asked.
“He would. But he is my brother. I promised him I would take care of him until the day I die.” I could hear Jock yelling obscenities. “Annette, I caught Jock and April together in the cornfield the other day.”
My whole body tensed. Suddenly, my Mr. Boatwright nightmares didn’t seem as bad as they seemed before.
“Oh no. She’s just a child! A white child in Klan country!” I roared.
“She’s fifteen goin’ on twenty-five and looks it. She wears a 36DD bra and has hips wide enough to balance saucers,” Rhoda told me in a low flat voice.
“How could Jock mess with that little girl?” I asked, out of breath.
“Sex is like dope to some men. You were a lot younger than fifteen when Buttwright jumped you. It must be their fuckin’ nature, pardon the expression,” Rhoda said nastily.
“What Jock is doing is slow suicide. You’ve got to stop him before her family finds out,” I wailed.
“I couldn’t have said it better,” Rhoda said gently.
“What are we going to do?” I was ready to do whatever it took to help Rhoda straighten out this mess. “You want me to take Jock off your hands for a while?”
“Oh no, that’s out of the question. I wouldn’t dump a burden like that on you.”
“Well what else can you do?” I hollered.
“Don’t worry. I’ll fix it,” Rhoda assured me.
CHAPTER 50
Seven months after Rhoda’s son’s funeral I finally agreed to go out with Levi Hardy. He approached me after Easter Sunday church service.
“I seen you at the Blue Note the other night.” He grinned, his eyes all over me. He had on a plain gray suit that was too big. The legs of his pants were dragging the ground, and the sleeves on his jacket almost covered his hands. I was feeling good and looking good. I had on a cream-colored two-piece suit that made me look ten pounds lighter, with matching shoes and hat. Being large didn’t bother me half as much as it had when I was a schoolgirl and the only girlfriend I had was a size four. Leaving Richland and the limited life I had accepted for so many years was one of the best decisions I ever made. Viola and half of the Black women I came in contact with since moving to Erie were just as big as I, if not bigger. They were popular