I’ve been neglecting my bathroom…. in all the worse ways. My bathroom, I actually have my own, to myself, don’t have to share her with anyone. Kids, all gone. The man of the house has his own abode as well. And me, ungrateful me, doesn’t show appreciation to the ‘Pink Lady.’ The ‘Pink Lady’ is old, but, strong. Sturdy wide tub with a shower head. The ‘Pink Throne’ – with a white seat, double sink, nestled in a long vanity, that, you guessed it, is speckled Pink. The large mirror, the old fashioned kind that you don’t see to often, majestic, no cracks. The ‘Pink’ wallpaper mixed with white, blue and silver – covers 90% of the bathroom.

The tile on the floor is ‘Pink’ – with a little mixture of 2 different kinds of pink. The old fashioned tile – the type that does not come up, it’s fixed, to the floor. Not one tiny tile missing because it appears to be one big piece of tiny tiles. Glued together like a jigsaw puzzle.

The ‘Pink Lady’ has a window that overlooks the massive backyard where nature is at play all four seasons.

But, I digress.

As I was saying. I’ve been neglecting her.

Inside the shower / tub enclosed by old fashioned glass doors with chrome metal handles – which, by the way, caresses me at least 5 days a week with an awesome, hot, long shower to help me prepare for work.

NEEDS ATTENTION!

The ‘Pink Lady’ needs to be CLEANED.

Not the superficial cleaning I give it at least once a week. The ‘Pink Lady’ needs a good old fashioned cleaning. So, that’s what I did.

Before I washed my hair, I sprayed the glass doors with scrubbing bubbles (we work hard so you won’t have to). Got a scotch brite pad and scrubbed the two glass doors inside and out.

WOW!

The doors seemed to be smiling at me with approval. So. I did it again.

Then.

I looked at those ‘Pink’ square tiles that line the shower wall on three sides. They looked like they were jealous cause the glass doors were getting all the attention.

Hmmmmm…. I wondered to myself. What to do?

I got in the shower and washed my hair. Standing there, under the falling water, washing my hair, I got an idea.

I opened the glass door, grabbed a scotch brite sponge, doused it with Bon-Ami, got back in the shower and started scrubbing the ‘Pink’ tiles while the shower was still flowing. I repeated this at least four times scrubbing all three walls.

BEAUTIFUL!

The ‘Pink’ tiles lit up like fireworks. ‘Pink’ fireworks.

My bathroom. A room of my own is so many things to me.

A library – because I read in there every morning before my shower.

A spa – because sometimes I need to soak in that ‘Pink’ tub filled with warm water and Epsom salt.

A make up closet – because the old fashioned mirror is huge and I can see my whole self.

A glimpse to the outside – the window faces the backyard and nature is truly my friend.

A good friend – because the ‘Pink Lady’ is always there. Even, when I’m not.

When I think of October.  I think of CHANGE.

The leaves of the trees CHANGE colors from simply green to brilliant bright red, yellow, orange and gorgeous gold.  They light up the sky for a season like beautiful Christmas lights – except, the leaves are perfect.

Then.

The leaves take on another CHANGE.

They fall.

They fall to the earth with their bright reds, yellows, orange’s and gorgeous gold’s and their brilliant colors decorate our lawns and busy streets.

Children play in the leaves and toss them to and fro while their parents or older siblings rake the leaves and put all those brilliant, bright and wonderful colors away.

Nice and tidy. Like a package of crayola crayons.

CHANGE happens.

The way we react to CHANGE has a lot to do with our attitudes toward CHANGE.

Are we willing to CHANGE ?

Sometimes, CHANGE is forced upon us. Then, we must CHANGE!

If we could make CHANGE more comfortable, whether good or bad.

Then maybe.

We could CHANGE.

Like the leaves.

From simply green.

To bright, bright, gorgeous, GOLD.

 

 

 

 

“Yeah, that’s what I said!  Buds girlfriend.  Is Ada daddy’s old girlfriend.”

“No, No.  Ada is not your daddy’s old girlfriend.  Ada is not Buds old girl friend. Do you understand me child!  Ada is your daddy’s old girl friend! Your daddy.  Ada is your daddy’s old girl friend from down south.”

“Why you talking crazy mamma, why you talking like you having some kind of nervous breakdown.  I’m talking about daddy.  I’m talking about Bud.  What you talking about.?

“I’m talking about you Thomasina.  I’m talking about you, your daddy and Adaline Love.  I’m talking about your kin folk.”

“My kin folk.?  What kin folk, what kin folk beside you and Bud?  Huh mamma, what kin folk you talking bout beside you and daddy!

“Tommie, Tommie – your daddy wants to talk to you.”

“Thomasina.”

“Daddy, what mamma talking about, what she talking about Bud?”

“Thomasina, listen,  (“tell her Bud, tell that child what’s going on”) my mom yelled in the background.

“Thomasina, Thomasina, I’m trying to tell you, I’m trying to..(“we should have told her a long time ago”) my mom yelled out.

“Emma, Emma, be quiet, be quiet now.  I’m trying to talk to Tommie, I’m trying to tell her, stop, stop yelling, stop yelling and let me talk to her, please, just let me talk to her Emma, let me talk to the girl.”

“Thomasina.  I’m not your daddy, I love you, but, I’m not your father, least, not your biological father, and, and, Emma, Emma not your mother, she not your mother in the natural way, she didn’t give birth to you from her womb – but, but to her, and, and,  to me, you, you our baby girl..(sobbing)  you our one and only baby girl.”

 

I heard my daddy talking.  I heard everything he said and what he was saying now.  I heard my mamma in the background yelling at Bud and telling him what they should have told me a long, long time ago.  I heard my daddy’s tears in the phone as he sobbed and wept and telling me he loved me, he loved me…. somebody else’s baby.  Not my mother, not my mother I heard Bud’s voice say…. not in the natural way,  Emma not your mother in the natural way.  I heard all of that, heard it all with my own ears, on my own phone, from my own daddy’s mouth.  Your daddy, your daddy was Ada’s old girlfriend from down south, Ada is your daddy’s old girlfriend… your kin folk, your kin folk.  Down South, down south.  That’s why they don’t go there, that’s why they don’t go there for nothing.  Down South, down south, that’s why they don’t talk about it, don’t talk about it at all -not to me anyway – never mention it.  Who never goes back home?  Who never goes back to their roots, to their people, to their kin folk?

“Daddy.”

“Yes Tommie.”

“I’m leaving Monday for Alabama.  You and mamma wanna come with me?”

“We’ll be ready when you get here baby.”

“OK.  See you Monday daddy.  Tell mom goodnight for me.”

 

B. Knox

75 South

To Be Continued.

 

I woke up the next morning on the couch with three 32 ounce empty bottles of Golden Champale lying next to me.  I felt awful and hung over because quiet as it’s kept, it don’t take much for me to get drunk.  All I kept hearing in my head was Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie and something about a black rag doll walking down the road, walking down the road.  Why the road and not the street?  (I thought to myself).  That woman, Miss Love, from Akron had been talking about something  I had never heard, never heard about, even the times I would eavesdrop on Bud or Emma talking on the phone to somebody, somebody from somewhere else, not Michigan – Akron, Akron, sometimes Bud would be talking to some old woman from Akron – I guess that old woman is Miss Love.  If it is Ada, how do they know each other – she said she know my mamma too – are they related to each other – why didn’t  I ask her last night how she knew them and, why are my eyes hazel like Miss Ada’s and her sister Lizzie.  I need to talk to my parents, I’ve got to get some answers before I leave on this assignment down south next week, I need to call Vickie, I need to call Miss Ada, and, damn!  I need to call Linda today about my itinerary.

Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom.

“Who is it, who is it?”  (I yelled from the couch).

Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom.

“Who is it?”  (I yelled again).

“It’s me Tommie, It’s Flora, open the door girl!  Are you alright?”

I jumped up from the couch and stumbled to the door.  “Hold on Flo, I’m coming, stop knocking.”

“Tommie, where was you at last night?  Your car was outside and I was blowing my horn waiting for you to come to the window and see me in safe.  I finally just got out the car and ran in as fast as I could – it was bout 3 in the morning and pitch black outside and on top of that, the stupid street light was out again.  I knocked and knocked on your door but you didn’t answer – I heard the TV so I assumed you was woke.  I finally gave up and went to my apartment and tried calling you on the phone.”

“Flo, I’m so sorry – I had a hard day yesterday and I started drinking and didn’t stop until all my champale was gone.  I didn’t hear nothing, nothing.  I was knocked out on the couch all night, come on in, I’m sorry.”

“It’s OK girl – I understand, I was just worried about you cause it’s not like you not to see me in at night.  Is everything OK?”

“No, I don’t know, some family stuff.  I’m working on it though, I’ll be alright.”

“Well, let me know if you need me to do anything Tommie.”

“As a matter of fact Flora, there is something you can do for me.”

“What you need girl?.

“I’m leaving next week for Alabama on a work assignment.”

“Yeah, you was telling me about that.”

“Well, I need you to look after my apartment while I’m gone – you know, make sure everything is in order like getting my mail and newspaper, watering the plants and just airing out the place at least once a week by opening up the windows and letting fresh air in.  Maybe turn on the lights at night and off during the day so it looks like I’m here.  If the phone rings while you’re here – take a message for me and call me once a week to give them to me.  I will pay you two hundred dollars up front before I leave.”

“You don’t have to pay me Tommie.”

“Girl, I know where you work, you could use the extra change – your job description will be house sitter.  I’ll tell Linda I’m paying you to house sit and  she will reimburses me.”

“Do you want the job?

“Hell yeah girl.  When do I start?”

“Next Monday.  Thanks Flo.  You’re a good neighbor and a better friend.”

 

“Hi Linda, It’s Tommie – I’m calling about the itinerary.”

“How you doing Tommie?  “Are you ready for your adventure?

“As a matter of fact Linda, I am.”

“Good, good.  I’m having it delivered this afternoon. Speedy has already picked it up so it won’t be long.  Everything you need is in there. If you need anything else, let me know. Drive safe and have a good time Tommie.”

“Thanks Linda.  See you when I get back.”

 

 

“Hi mom.  Are you busy, can we talk?

“Hi Tommie.  Your daddy told me what happened.”

“What did Bud tell you?

“That you going to Alabama.”

“Is that all he said.?

“He said Ada called and you took the message.”

“Do you know her?

“Yes Tommie, I know Ada.”

“How do you know her mom, is she related to you or Bud?

“No, she’s not a relative, she’s an old friend.”

“Whose friend, yours or Bud’s?

“Your daddy’s friend.”

“What kind of friend, is Ada Bud’s old girlfriend?

“No, Ada is your daddy’s old girlfriend.”

 

75 South

B. Knox

 

 

 

“This is Ada.  Who am I talking to?”

“Hello, hi Mrs. Love.  This is, I talked to you earlier, this is Tommie – Bud and Emma’s daughter, I talked to you, I talked to you on the phone, I answered the phone at my parents house and spoke with you earlier today.”

“Hello girl.  Are your parents home now?”

“Oh, Oh, no, I don’t know.  My father was home when I left, I’m at my house now, my apartment, my mom might be home now, but, I’m, I’m at home, at my apartment Mrs. Love.”

“Miss Love.”

“Excuse me.”

“Miss Love girl, it’s Miss Love, I never married.”

“Oh, Oh, I’m sorry Mrs. – I mean, Miss Love.  I’m sorry, I just assumed.”

“Don’t be sorry girl, it’s quite alright, just call me Ada.”

“OK, OK Miss Love, I mean, Ada.  Is this a good time to bother you Miss Ada?”

“It’s as good as time as any young lady.  I done had my supper and now I’m just reading the paper and relaxing a little.  I was hoping you would call.”

“You were?”

“Of course girl.  It’s obvious that you don’t know nothing about me and it’s quite obvious, to you I believe, that I know a little something about you.”

“How did you know that I had hazel eyes Miss Ada?”

“I didn’t know.”

“When I talked to you earlier, you asked me was my eyes hazel.”

“I know.”

“Well, I know you asked me.  How did you know?”

“I didn’t know until you told me girl.”

“But you asked me, you asked me was my eyes hazel. Why did you ask me that?”

“Because you said you was Bud and Emma’s child.”

“What does that have to do with anything?  Neither one of them has hazel eyes.”

“I know they don’t. But I do, and so did my sister.”

“Your sister, your sister.  Who is your sister, and what does that have to do with me and my parents?”

“Girl, calm down a bit.  When you answered that phone and told me you were Bud and Emma’s daughter, that you were 32 years old, I got to thinking, I got to thinking real quick and started adding up in my head.  I got to thinking about when Lizzie, my little sister, had to go away from our home because the elders said she had an infirmity, an ailment.  They took her away from Tuscaloosa, they took Lizzie away in 1952.”  About a year later, when I was about to go off to school, Lizzie came back home, but she was changed, she was different.  She hardly talked to me or anybody else for that matter.  All she wanted to do was mope around the house and play with this black rag doll that somebody had made her while she was away.  I asked her where she had gone and what had happened to her, she was about 12 years old then.  The rumor was that she was with child, she was pregnant, and my family took her to a home where she would be cared for until she delivered the baby somewhere in Mobile.  Lizzie never told me what happened and after I went off to school, my mother wrote me and said that Lizzie got up one morning, packed a little bag and her and that rag doll of hers left walking up the road toward the main highway.  That was the last time anybody saw or heard from my little sister.  That was in the fall of 1954.”

I couldn’t  speak.  I couldn’t  breath.  I thought I was having a panic attack.  I held the phone to my ear,  I heard Miss Ada breathing on the other end. I got myself together enough to form some words.

“Miss Ada.”  (I whispered in the phone).

“Yes child.”

“I have to call you back. Goodnight.”  (I hung up the phone).

 

75 SOUTH

B. Knox

To be Continued.

I took the long way home after leaving my parents house.  My plan was to wait for my mom to get home to tell them both about my upcoming trip down south, but, after talking to that Adaline woman from Ohio on the phone, I just wanted to get out of there, get something to eat and call Vickie as soon as I got home.  I stopped at Church’s Chicken on East Jefferson near Belle Isle and got a 3 piece snack, two legs and a wing with fries, a biscuit, a jalapeno pepper, and a large strawberry pop that would serve as my dinner after talking to V.

“What the hell is going on?” (I thought out loud to myself).  Who is this Adaline woman, what’s the deal on my hazel eyes, and, for that matter, what she doing with my eyes.  What did she mean when she said she know about me – know what about me?  I’m confused, how does some old woman in Akron, Ohio know that I have hazel eyes and we’ve never met – and what’s the story on how did Bud and Emma get a 32 year old child.  They got me the old fashion way Ms. Adaline – you do know where babies come from – don’t you?  I had so many questions to ask somebody, starting with mom and dad, but, look how Bud reacted when I told him about going down south – why was he so vexed, so uncomfortable just hearing me say the words – “I’m going down south on assignment.”  To be honest, I wasn’t surprised by his reaction – something inside told me that this wasn’t going to be a pleasant moment between father and daughter.  Still, I wonder, what’s the big deal, whats down south that Bud don’t want me to see?  How is mom going to react -I’m sure when she gets home Bud is gonna wake up from that lazy boy and tell on me – tell on me, a grown woman who built her life around her parents so completely that I’ve never traveled outside of Michigan.  I need answers, I need to know what they’re hiding from me, I wan’t to know why they never go back home – down south where they both are from.  I need to know what pecans that lady is talking about, where they are, where down south do pecans grow.  I need to, I need to – I’m going to call Adaline Love – I’ve got her phone number in my purse.  I’m going to call Adaline when I get home, then, I’ll call Vickie.  

I pulled up in front of my apartment full of anticipation of speaking with the mystery woman who knew both my parents.  I grabbed some stuff out the back seat in one hand and my dinner in the other.  As I was putting my key in the door, my neighbor across the hall from me came out dressed to impress somebody, with too much perfume and make up and hollered in her high pitch voice, “Hey girl. I’m glad I caught you Tommie, where you been all day?”

“Hey Flora.”  (still fumbling with my keys).  “Girl, girl, you won’t believe who came by here about an hour ago, I couldn’t believe it – he had the nerve”

“Who, who Flora, who you talking about?”

“Joseph, Joseph girl.  I just happened to be outside getting something outta my car and he go pull up and blow his horn at me trying to get my attention.”

“What did he want Flo?”

“You girl – you know what he wanted.  He asked me was you home and I got smart with his yellow ass and said “Do you see her car Joseph – I don’t see it, do you?”

“Well, what did he say after you said that?”  (I asked).

“Nothing, he didn’t say nothing.  He just licked his tongue out making perverted gestures and drove off.  I made sure to give him the finger so he could see it in his rear view mirror.”  (we both laughed).

“I know that’s right girl.  I’ve been over at my parents house all day – where you off to?”

“I’m going to a house party on the North East side.  My cousin is giving it and it’s suppose to be off the hook Tommie – you should come.”

“Thanks Flo, but, not tonight.  I’ve got some things I need to take care of, phone calls and such, making plans for my trip down south – thanks though.”

“I hope those phone calls and such don’t include calling that ass hole Joseph girl, you too good for him Tommie.”

“I know that girl!  I ain’t talked to his ass in over a year – that’s definitely over and done with.”

“OK then, I’ll see you later.  Listen out for my car if you woke when I get home and maybe we can talk later.”

“Alright Flo, have a good time.”

I turned my TV on and sat down to eat my dinner.  I thought about what to say to Adaline when she answered, if she answered the phone.  Feelings of panic overtook me after eating so  I got up and went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face for about 10 minutes until the panic subsided.  The phone number in my purse stared at me like a  photograph in a frame 330-868-8827.  I dialed the number.

“Hello.”

“Hi, hello, can I please speak to Adaline Love?”

75 SOUTH

B. Knox

To be continued…..

 

 

I had fallen asleep at my parents dining room table.  It seemed like I had been out for a long time when I heard the phone ringing.  I lifted my heavy head off the table and immediately looked to where my father was still sitting in his chair.

“Bud, Bud – don’t you hear your phone ringing.  Dad, Daddy – answer the phone.”

I jumped up and almost tripped on that stupid carpet that they got under the dining room table on top of carpet.  “Bud.”  I made may way toward the still ringing phone in the kitchen closer to the dining room.

“Hello.”  (I said to the person on the other end).

Hi, How ya’ll doin.  Emma?”

“Hi, hi. No, this is Emma’s daughter, Tommie.  Mom’s not here right now, would you like to leave a message?”

“This is Tommie you say?”  (the voice on the other end asked).

“Yes, yes ma’m – Tommie, Thomasina.  Can I ask who’s calling please?”

“How old you be girl?”

“Excuse me.  I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“I say, how old you be – how old are you girl?”

“I’m thirty two.  Who’s asking?”

“Thirty two!  You thirty two years old?  Where on earth did Emma and Budrick get a thirty two year old from?”

“What!  Excuse me.  Budrick.  Who am I talking to.  Do I know you?”

“I don’t know child, do you know me?”

“Again ma’m, no disrespect intended, would you like to leave a message for my mom?”

“Tommie, Thomasina.  That’s a nice name.  Can I ask you a question dear?”

“I guess so.  What?”

“Do you have hazel eyes?”

I went blank and my mouth opened wide by itself without any help from me.  I couldn’t speak to the person that was on the other end of the phone because no sound would come out.  All I could do was hold the phone to my left ear and stare out the kitchen window into the beautiful backyard with the spectacular vegetable garden.  Budrick, Budrick – I had never heard my mother call Bud Budrick.  Was that his real name.  I always thought it was Buddy.  How did this woman on the phone know I had hazel eyes.  Was she still there.  I don’t remember hearing a click – just silence.

“Yes, yes ma’m.  My eyes are hazel.  How did you know?”

“Cause my eyes are hazel.”  (long silence).

“Do you got something to write with? – I’m ready for you to take that message now girl.”

“Hold on, one minute, let me get something to write on.”

“First, please write my number down for yourself, it’s 330-868-8827.  My name is Adaline, Adaline Love of Akron, Ohio.  Tell Budrick, tell Bud Miss Love called.”

“You called to talk to Bud – not my mom?”

“I’ve been calling every month for many years to talk to Mr. Powell.  Your mother know, don’t worry yourself about that, Emma knows who I am.”

“How do you know me Miss Love?”

“I know of you.”

“What does that mean – you know of me?”

“Let your daddy know that the pecan harvest was good this year.  I talk at you later child.  goodbye.”

I hung the phone up and looked in on Bud.  He was still sleeping, the empty Budweiser can lay empty on the tray next to him.  I took the empty can to the kitchen, rinsed it out in the sink and stacked it in the corner where he kept his empties for deposit.  This Adaline woman had to be the old lady who Bud talked to on the phone – who else did he know in Akron.  What’s with the hazel eyes – what does she mean her eyes are hazel too.  Besides myself and this guy I went to high school with – I didn’t know any other black people, especially as dark as me, with hazel eyes.

I put the message from Miss Love on the tray next to Bud, gave him a kiss on the cheek and let myself out the side door.

 

75 South

B. Knox

To be continued on Sunday, 2.14.2016

My severance package was generous, just like Linda said it would be.  Mr. Silver compensated me $2500.00 for the occupancy rate, $10,500 was my severance and $7000 up front for taking the assignment in Alabama.  Linda provided me with a credit card to pay for my living expenses while I lived and worked at the property in Three Notch.  Of course I banked half of the money and the rest I used to pay off some bills, buy some new clothes, get the Ford Windstar tuned up and checked out for my long drive and spoiled my parents with money and gifts.

“Tommie, what’s all this for girl, what you do, hit the lottery or something?” (said Bud).

“No dad.  You know I don’t play no lottery, you and ma play it enough for all three of us, and then some.”

“Well something then girl, you done did something to get all this money and stuff you handing to me and Emma like you one of them cash machines they got at the bank.”

“ATM machine daddy, the bank got ATM machines.”

“Yeah, them machines that give you money, you know what I’m talkin about Tommie.”

“Yeah, Yeah Bud, I know what you talking about.  Can’t I just be nice to you and your wife without you being so suspicious?”  “I love you and ma, I just want to do something nice for you guys.  I’m being sent on an assignment for my boss and the money is part of my salary for agreeing to take the assignment out of state.”

“Out of state you say, where you going?”

“Down south daddy, Linda and Mort sending your baby girl down south.” (I stared at his face to see his reaction).

“Do your mamma know about this Tommie?” (he replied in a soft voice).

“Not yet daddy.”

“Well when you planning to tell her girl – when you go tell your mamma that you going south?”

“When she get home daddy.”

“Tommie.”

“Yes dad.”

“Go fetch me a Budweiser from the fridge please.”

 

I sat at my parents dining room table and watched my father slowly sip his beer from the can sitting in his lazy-boy recliner, in the corner near the window of  the living room.  Bud sat there silent and gazed out the window without saying another word to me after I got up and brought him his drink of choice.  I sat in silence.  Scared to interrupt his solitude.  Scared to ask him what was he thinking about.  Scared to remind him that I was still there – at the house – sitting at his dining room table – waiting for my mom, his wife, to come home.

 

To be continued on:  Saturday, 2/06/2016

B. Knox

 

75 South