Divas of Damascus Road Page 6

  But she never saw “nothing.” She always saw the horrid scene playing on the movie screen inside her eyelids.

  Chapter 7

  Dianne and Yolanda picked up the cake. Regina picked up the arches and everything else they’d rented. The three of them went to the church early, making sure that the flower arrangements were set in their rightful places, ready to receive the audience of family and friends.

  The videographer called to say that he was sending his assistant. The photographer was trippin’ about his deposit, which Yolanda had already mailed and he’d already cashed. Regina told him that if he didn’t get to the church by three, she’d sue him. He said he’d be there by two.

  Gloria called to say that her stockings had a run in them, so Regina made another trip to the drugstore for a pair of hose.

  Dianne and Yolanda picked up Aunt Toe on the way to Gloria’s house. Aunt Toe was the last of the greats alive. When Great-grandmother Rucker left her bootleggin’, whiskeydrinkin’, wife-beatin’ husband, she wound up in Dentonville with her daughters and all the money she’d sewn inside of her brassiere. Of all the girls, Hazeline (nicknamed “Toe” because she was born with six toes on both feet) was the prettiest girl in Dentonville. The younger generations had seen pictures of Aunt Toe in her prime, and she was breathtaking, the typical light-skinned, wavy-haired, and light-brown-eyed cotton-club beauty who could sing like Billie Holiday. Not to mention that was as smart as a whip and always had something to add to every conversation, whether her word was welcomed or not.

  Since she’d been diagnosed with diabetes, the general family consensus was that Aunt Toe had lost a little of her mind. But the truth was, she had more sense than most. She’d seen nearly eighty years of the ups and downs of life, and she was tired now, but she knew that God wasn’t quite ready to call her home. There was work to be done with her deceased sister’s girls. Ruth’s daughters, Gloria and Joyce Ann, had made a few messes that Aunt Toe wanted to see cleaned up.

  Aunt Toe couldn’t blame it all on Gloria and Joyce Ann, though. Ruth had picked one bug-eyed fool of a daddy for them. He was nothing but a drunk old idiot with a death wish. Aunt Toe never liked him, especially not since he’d tried to kiss her behind the church house. Billy Neal talked a smooth game when he lied to Ruth and told her that he’d gotten that big bustin’ knot when his horse kicked him in the head. Aunt Toe told Ruth the truth, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She loved Billy and had decided that his farts didn’t stink. “If it did happen,” Ruth had said, “it was ‘cause you tryin’ to steal him from me!”

  Aunt Toe never could understand why Ruth was such a poor judge of men. And as rough as it was on Ruth, Aunt Toe thanked God for the day that Billy fell off the porch and broke his neck in a drunken stupor. Then, at least, Gloria and Joyce Ann wouldn’t have to grow up watching their daddy make a fool out of their momma.

  Maybe because Joyce Ann was the baby and never saw her daddy for who he was, maybe because Gloria May was the oldest and saw Ruth for who she was—for whatever reason, Joyce Ann was the apple who didn’t fall far from the tree, and Gloria May was the apple who grew from the tippy-tip of the farthest-reaching branch and built up enough momentum swinging so that when she broke free, she tried to roll as far from the tree as possible.

  Dianne and Yolanda pulled up to their aunt’s old, battered frame house and blew the horn twice—not for Aunt Toe to come running out, but to scare as many cats as they could back under the porch. Aunt Toe insisted on leaving out food for the neighborhood felines. Everyone in the family had tried to get her to move out of that old house with all its old issues, and the neighborhood with all its new troubles, but she wouldn’t hear of it.

  Aunt Toe grew up with nothing, sharing one bedroom with four sisters, two brothers, and a family of rodents that thrived in their midst. Despite the number of times they smashed the rats with makeshift brooms, the pests found their way back through the cracks and nestled in the walls at night. It was the country. Dentonville was a big city, as far as Aunt Toe was concerned. She was from Craw Prairie, a town so far in the woods that according to Aunt Toe, the state of Texas had to pump sunshine in for them. Life in Dentonville had been good to Aunt Toe. She’d met a man, the right man, who asked for her hand in marriage.

  Sixty-two years later she still lived in the home that she and Albert Washington had bought with their hard-earned money, and she would leave that house when she left this earth—not one moment before.

  With the last of the timid cats out of sight, Dianne and Yolanda unhooked their seat belts and got out. They’d have to deal with the confident ones that didn’t budge at the warning signals.

  “Mee-ow,” one of them called to Yolanda. He was orange with white feet. He might have been cute if he hadn’t been within ten feet of her, his scratchy claws digging into the wooden porch.

  “Get back,” she said, keeping her distance and hoping that he would keep his. The last thing she needed was to get all scratched up by one of Aunt Toe’s wild felines.

  “I’m coming,” Aunt Toe called from beyond the door.

  “Ooh, hurry up, Aunt Toe,” Dianne whispered, leaning her backside against Yolanda in what must have looked like a futile defense against a bunch of tired old cats and whoever night decide to do a drive-by that afternoon.

  It took Aunt Toe a good three minutes to click-click all the dead bolts on her door. Finally it swung open, slapping against one of the humongous wheels of her wheelchair. Yolanda and Dianne rushed in, closing the door behind them just in time to shut out one of the bolder cats.

  “Aunt Toe, when you gonna get these cats out of here?” Yolanda fussed for the umpteenth time, while folding over to hug her.

  “Them cats ain’t studyin’ you.” She pushed her aside and reached out for Dianne.

  “Hey, Aunt Toe.” Dianne planted a kiss on her cheek, purposely smelled the old woman’s pearly skin, and took in the breadth and width of the home, which had always represented neutral ground in her life. It had been so long.

  “Oh, Jesus Dianne! Oh, Dianne...” Aunt Toe held on to her tightly now. “Girl, I ain’t seen you in so long!”

  “I know, Aunt Toe.” Dianne stayed in her clutch until she was released.

  “Let me get a look at you.” Aunt Toe rolled back a foot or so and commanded Dianne to turn around. “Girl, you finally got some meat on your bones. You married now?”

  “Uh, no, ma’am,” Dianne replied.

  “Hmph. You sho’ do look married to me, by the way your hips spreadin’,” she observed.

  “Aunt Toe, did you take your medicine?” Yolanda asked her.

  “Yeah, I took it, but it don’t make me blind.” Aunt Toe blinked at Yolanda repeatedly. “I know what I’m seem’. Dianne, you better start getting in before twelve, ‘cause I’m telling you, after midnight, ain’t nothin’ open but legs. You hear me? Stop hanging out all hours of the night with these good-for-nothing rascals, you hear?”

  “Ooh, Aunt Toe, it is so nice to see you again. You haven’t changed a bit!” Dianne announced, ashamed that her great aunt had called her out. “Not one bit.”

  “Well, I call it like I see it. I’m sure glad you’re here, baby. We’ve missed you,” Aunt Toe carried on as if she hadn’t come near insulting Dianne.

  Yolanda pointed to her watch, and the women filed out of the house one by one. Carefully they lifted Aunt Toe into the front seat and strapped on the seat belt for her. Dianne rolled the wheelchair around to the trunk, and Yolanda collapsed the frame. Together they lifted the wheelchair and carefully placed it on top of the emergency blanket.

  “Girl, Aunt Toe done read me by my hips,” Dianne sniggered to Yolanda just before they closed the trunk.

  “You know how she is,” Yolanda reminded her.

  “I know. Actually, I think I’ve kind of missed that.”

  Aunt Toe watched Dianne through the side-view mirrors. It pained her to see her great-niece going down the same road Joyce Ann had taken. She wondered what happe
ned to the good old days, when you got married, moved out of your momma’s house, and lost your virginity all in the same day.

  At the same time, Dianne laughed at Aunt Toe’s simplicity. She gave Aunt Toe credit—maybe she was a virgin when she got married, but anybody can hold out till the ripe old age of eighteen, which was considered prime marrying age. After all, what else would she have to look forward to back then?

  Yolanda backed out of the driveway and then stopped the car so that she could go back and put the locks on Aunt Toe’s wobbly old gate. Aunt Toe insisted that the gate be locked at all times, as though it actually provided some impression of a barricade. Thank you, Lord, for protecting her. That’s when she heard a cat’s call, as shrill and as purposeful as any electronic alarm system. The bold, striped one had been watching their every move. He was the alarm system.

  Dianne didn’t waste any time getting Aunt Toe to talking when they got back into the car. “Aunt Toe, you still got twelve toes?”

  “Sure do.” She nodded. “Toes ain’t never caused me a minute of trouble my whole life. And I ain’t never fell once! You ask anybody. Ain’t nobody ever seen me fall in almost eighty years!”

  “Ooh, you eighty years old, Aunt Toe?” Dianne asked.

  “Lord delay His coming and say the same, I sure will be eighty next year. I don’t look it, do I?”

  “No, Aunt Toe. You look good, girlfriend.” Yolanda rolled her neck.

  “I know, I know. This old red man from the civic center tryin’ to court me.”

  “Why don’t you like him, Aunt Toe? You’re still young. We could be planning your wedding next,” Dianne told her.

  “Naw, chile, naw.” Aunt Toe frowned. “I don’t want no red man.”

  “But you’re red.”

  “I don’t like ‘em red. I like ‘em so black they look like they’ll rub off on ya,” she cackled. “Now, that’s how I like ‘em. Besides, that joker at the center got too many teeth missing in action.”

  Dianne fell over laughing on the seat next to her, holding her stomach.

  “Aunt Toe,” Yolanda asked her, “are you excited about the wedding?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said, “your momma needs a man. I told her long time ago she needed a man. She ought to be about to burn up by now.”

  “Aunt Toe, what are you talking about?”

  “You young folks know what I mean.” She gave Yolanda an all-knowing glance. “That man better take him some Viagner. Help him, Father.”

  Dianne decided that she’d wait at Gloria’s house during the wedding and reception. Despite the pleas of her family, she couldn’t force herself to breathe the same air as Joyce Ann.

  “You don’t want me to take you back to the hotel?” Yolanda asked her as they walked into Gloria’s home.

  “No. That’s okay. I’ll just wait here.”

  “Won’t your friend miss you?” Gloria asked. She had caught the hesitation in Yolanda’s voice when she explained that Dianne wasn’t staying with her.

  “He’ll be okay,” Dianne let it slip out.

  “He?” Gloria asked. “You married?”

  Dianne bit her bottom lip. “No, ma’am.”

  “Well, it ain’t for me to say, but—”

  “I’ll say it.” Aunt Toe went off on her rampage. “Shackin’ up is wrong, and your Aunt Gloria taught you better. I don’t care what the rest of the world do, that don’t make it right.”

  The room was silent. Dianne could only say “Yes, ma’am” and swallow.

  “Okay, let’s get ready to go.” Gloria hopped off the topic and sang, “It’s my wedding day, everybody!”

  At the church Regina went inside first to make sure Richard wouldn’t see Gloria. Three generations of Rucker women took over the choir room and made it into a dressing room. Regina was the matron of honor, Yolanda the maid of honor. Aunt Toe took Ruth’s place, giving Gloria away. Richard had a best man and a groomsman. It would be a simple ceremony with just the basics, at Gloria’s request. That turned out to be a good thing because Yolanda didn’t think she could take much more of Gloria’s jitters.

  The church was the perfect size for a second wedding, small enough to be conservative. Everyone knew that Gloria had been around the block. In fact, some of Richard’s church members raised their eyebrows at the prospect of Minister Reed having a church wedding with a woman who was on her second walk down the aisle. “Don’t seem right,” they’d said. “The aisle is for untouched women,” some of them had said to the pastor.

  But the pastor knew the truth. In years past, many of them had hoped to land Richard Reed themselves. Then, after they settled for other men, they had hoped that their daughters and nieces would catch him. Alas, Minister Reed always seemed so aloof, traveling the country on crusades, running off overseas doing mission trips. He was gone too much to keep a woman satisfied.

  Gloria Rucker, bless her heart—raised those three girls with no man—was a good enough woman for him. She had taught many of their children in school and served at a neighboring church. Surely she would transfer her membership (and her tithes) from Mt. Zion to Blessed Assurance Baptist Church congregation. They tsk-ed and frowned, but Gloria would do.

  The choir room doubled as a dressing room for occasions such as this one. Regina, Yolanda, and Aunt Toe scrambled to get Gloria ready for the ceremony, but Gloria was less than amicable. “Oh, do you think I picked the right color?” She raised her eyebrows as she scrutinized her reflection in the full-length mirror on the wall. “I mean, maybe it’s too close to white. I do have kids, you know.”

  “Aw, Momma, please,” Regina assured her. “These days people on their third and fourth marriages get married in lily white.”

  “They ought to make ‘em wear plaid,” Aunt Toe interjected. “Don’t make no sense what’s going on in the world today. Other week, they said on the news the president’s gonna make a law so folks who’s shacking up can have a break on their taxes. Said they’re saving the government money by not getting married. What you think about that, Gloria? I wouldn’t be surprised if God strike us all dead!”

  Gloria had seen the same newscast and realized that Aunt Toe had it all wrong. Gloria whispered to Yolanda, “Take Aunt Toe on into the sanctuary. I don’t want her getting overheated in here.”

  Yolanda wheeled her great-aunt to the front row on the left side of the church and bade her to sit quietly until the ceremony began.

  When they were all dressed, Regina went out to find the photographer. He came and took a picture of them, all smiles. Gloria went back into the inner chamber of the choir room, a smaller room within a room, formerly an office, now reserved for breast-feeding, serious girdle-hoisting, and other intimate actions too big for a bathroom stall. She needed a last moment with herself before walking down that aisle.

  Moments later there was another knock at the outer door. “I guess he wants to take a few more pictures,” Yolanda said, neglecting to ask before she swung open the door.

  There stood Joyce Ann.

  “Hello, everybody.” She waved lightly and then clasped her hands together against the front of her paisley eighties-style ruffled-waist dress. The gesture was innocent enough, but her tone was bold. For a brief moment she was taken aback by her nieces. They weren’t little girls anymore. They had grown up to be beautiful young women. She wondered if they looked anything like Dianne. She wondered if Shannon would have looked like them, too.

  Joyce Ann was just as lovely as Regina remembered her. She looked a lot like the old pictures of Aunt Toe: tall, slender, with a natural beauty that wouldn’t fade. She still had those dimples, as if time hadn’t aged her one bit.

  Her eyes told a different story, though. It was there that Regina saw the woman who had left Dianne when Shannon died. “Hello,” she said dryly.

  “It’s nice to see you two,” Joyce Ann offered.

  “I wish I could say the same.” Yolanda surprised herself with these disrespectful words. She couldn’t help it, though. The word-mincer
was turned off at the moment.

  “Gloria, you in there?” Joyce Ann hollered past Regina.

  “Joyce Ann?” Gloria stared at herself in the chamber’s mirror. Joyce Ann, Gloria rushed to see her sister. Part of her thanked God for answering her prayer, for allowing Gloria to lay eyes on Joyce Ann again while the blood was still running warm in her little sister’s veins. But the other part of her wondered just what Joyce Ann wanted. They hugged upon impact.

  “Be careful, Momma.” Regina pulled her mother back. “Don’t let any of her makeup get on you.”

  “Gloria, I’m so glad to be here.” Joyce Ann poured out her heart. That much was true. After all, she did love Gloria. Always had—maybe too much. “Oh, you make a lovely bride, Gloria.” But within the same breath, she said, “We need to talk.”

  “Okay,” Gloria moved aside, pointing Joyce Ann toward the inner room.

  “Can’t it wait?” Yolanda cut in. “We’re in the middle of a wedding, Aunt Joyce Ann.”

  “No, it can’t.”

  “It’s okay.” Gloria stepped between her daughters and her sister. “It’s okay.”

  Gloria followed her sister to the room, barely big enough for two, and waited. Long ago they used to be this close all the time. Washing dishes, cleaning up, sneaking to wear lipstick. They had shared many secrets, spoken in such proximity that their very breaths intermingled. Now was no different.

  “What do you want?” Gloria asked, closing the door.

  “I don’t want to be kicked out of your life on account of some man.” Joyce Ann crammed as much force into a whisper as possible.

  “I never said I was kicking you out of my life. I’m getting married. I have to be careful now,” Gloria murmured with tight lips.

  Joyce Ann looked into her sister’s eyes and saw a pleading, same as before. But this time she wouldn’t fall for it. “You can get married all you want to, but I will not let you leave me out in the cold again. Remember, I know you. We do have a history together.”

  “I’m well aware of that.”