Sorry I'm a bit late again with my moderator post, but on the bright side, the world didn't end, so there's that.
I want to say congratulations to our own Ruth Madison and Annabelle Costa for the newest publication from Dev Love Press, The Boy Next Door. I hope you will buy a copy in support of our authors.
Okay, on to the updates....
New Stories
Ink
On Saturday Afternoon
The Player
Ongoing Stories
Aurora
Part 25
Hollywood Rehab
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21: The Conclusion
In/Exhale
September 4, 2000 - Part 2
Tales of a Sick & Twisted Devotee
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Thursday, December 20, 2012
The Boy Next Door published by Dev Love Press, LLC.
Lee gave me permission to do a little advertisement here just to let you guys know that Annabelle Costa's The Boy Next Door has been actually published as a real book. Like, seriously.
Just as I suspected it would, it's getting great attention from devs and non-devs alike. These are awesome characters, whether you care that Jason uses a wheelchair or not.
It's been reviewed in The Romantic Times and endorsed by their reviewer. It was reviewed by Princess Bookie on her site and on Goodreads. And that's just the start! We've got a brief virtual tour happening the first week of 2013 too.
"Readers hearts will melt as love rolls in with this one-of-a-kind story that is both hilarious and romantic. Costa's voice is bold, refreshing and the narrative is delivered with such spunk, fans of chick-lit will squeal with delight. With characters this vivid and animated, you almost expect them to stroll off the page in this book your friends will be begging to borrow."
-Jaime A. Geraldi, The Romantic Times
Through middle school, high school, bad dates, and an ill-advised punk phase, Tasha has always been able to count on Jason. Since the day he moved in next door, he’s gone from the weird kid in a wheelchair to Tasha’s most trusted friend. But lives change and the friends are going in different directions. When Jason and Tasha rekindle their friendship, sparks fly. After years of being a wild soul, now the ex-lead of a band turned music teacher is just looking for a relationship to last.
When none other than Jason introduces her to a man who can give her what she wants, Tasha is on the verge of throwing passion and love away just so she can forget her troubled past and settle down. But Jason isn’t ready to give her up just yet.
For those who read this story when it was here on this blog, it would be so amazing if you could leave a review at Amazon. It has changed only a little, with professional proofreading and the addition of some really fun flow charts and graphics.
Speaking of which, Annabelle created this adorable flow chart that I thought was so hilarious. I encourage you to share it...
Just as I suspected it would, it's getting great attention from devs and non-devs alike. These are awesome characters, whether you care that Jason uses a wheelchair or not.
It's been reviewed in The Romantic Times and endorsed by their reviewer. It was reviewed by Princess Bookie on her site and on Goodreads. And that's just the start! We've got a brief virtual tour happening the first week of 2013 too.
-Jaime A. Geraldi, The Romantic Times
Through middle school, high school, bad dates, and an ill-advised punk phase, Tasha has always been able to count on Jason. Since the day he moved in next door, he’s gone from the weird kid in a wheelchair to Tasha’s most trusted friend. But lives change and the friends are going in different directions. When Jason and Tasha rekindle their friendship, sparks fly. After years of being a wild soul, now the ex-lead of a band turned music teacher is just looking for a relationship to last.
When none other than Jason introduces her to a man who can give her what she wants, Tasha is on the verge of throwing passion and love away just so she can forget her troubled past and settle down. But Jason isn’t ready to give her up just yet.
For those who read this story when it was here on this blog, it would be so amazing if you could leave a review at Amazon. It has changed only a little, with professional proofreading and the addition of some really fun flow charts and graphics.
Speaking of which, Annabelle created this adorable flow chart that I thought was so hilarious. I encourage you to share it...
And if you want your own copy (I know I couldn't wait to order my own paperback copy!), here is all the buying information...
(The paperback and kindle versions should be linked on the same page, but some are and some aren't at this point!)
And any other Amazon sites there are world wide, it will be there!
Dev Love Press made the choice to let Kindle have the book exclusively for the first 90 days, so it will be coming out in other e-versions, such as Nook, Kobo, and iTunes in mid April.
Thank you so much for the chance to tell you about this book!
Love to everyone,
Ruth Madison
www.devlovepress.com
Thursday, December 6, 2012
On Saturday Afternoon
On Saturday Afternoon
by Ruth Madison
This is a somewhat longer short story that I wrote back in college. Since then it has appeared in my short story collection, Dev Dreams
I'm working on more novels and longer works (including a series structured like a TV show), but in the meantime I hope you enjoy my shorter pieces! Come visit me at my website www.ruthmadison.com :)
(Because I have way too much fun creating mock up book covers!)
Em Matthews had a mother, a
father, a roommate, and a boyfriend, but only one friend. His name was James.
She met him at the hospital where she worked. Em volunteered doing odd jobs.
Technically, she was an intern and there to get some contacts in the field she
was studying. In practice, she swept a lot of floors.
She wasn't really sure that she
wanted to go into physical therapy anyway. To her mother, going to college was
just a distraction until Em got married. She thought this would be a good
choice because Em would meet eligible men, but then her mother had found Kyle
and that was that. James would not be what her mother considered an eligible
man.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Pieces
I overheard Miz Corliss on the phone saying about her son Bobby that
he’d be coming home from Germany today but that he’d left some pieces of
hisself behind.
My Mama always tell me don’t listen in to conversations that ain’t
meant for me. But I can’t help
myself. I always been quiet and Miz
Corliss so loud you can hear her way down at the next town over. Anyways, if Bobby be coming home today and I
got to be helping out with him, it’s good to know earlier ‘stead of later.
I can tell Miz Corliss excited about her son coming home. She pace around, poofing up her hair, and
checking her face in the vanity mirror damn near every five minutes. And she keep giving me stuff to do, like I
done cleaned the piano five times today. If I even stop and catch my breath for a
minute, she say, “Rosie, you just sitting around? Go change the linens, girl.” Except those linens don’t need to be changed
every hour, Miz Corliss. I never say
that though. Mama taught me never to
talk back, and I be a good girl.
When I bring the trash out to the curb, I take my sweet time, knowing
the second I come back in, Miz Corliss will be having more work for me to do. I see Charlie raking leaves in the garden and
he give me that big ol’ smile that he always got for me. His ebony skin crinkles like old leather. “Busy day today?” he ask, looking at my face.
“Bobby Corliss, he coming home,” I explain.
“Poor little Rosie,” Charlie say, chucking a bit. “They havin’ a parade for the war hero?”
I shrug. “I heard he got he got
hisself hurt.”
“Oh yeah?” Charlie raise up his eyebrows.
Between you and me, Charlie ain’t such a big fan of Bobby Corliss. I met Bobby a few times when he come home on
leave and he seem nice enough to me, but Charlie, he don’t like him. Charlie say Bobby Corliss think he own the
whole world. That because he so good
looking and the Corliss family got money, although not so much money now that
Mister Corliss dead and the depression got them hurting and all.
“I can cheer you up, Rosie,” Charlie say. “Let me cook you up a nice meal tonight.”
That there is another thing.
Charlie, he like me. Not just
that he think I’m nice and all, even though he does. He like me the way a man like a woman and
want to get with her. I’m used to this
by now. I realized when I was but six
years old, that I was prettier than most girls my age. When I was fourteen, I got some big ol’
breasts and Mama say, “This one’s gonna be trouble.” Excepting I wasn’t trouble because whenever
boys came calling, I always said no.
Sometimes they kept asking, sometimes they called me names, not so nice
ones, but I just kept on saying no.
Now Mama say I’s too picky, that soon I gonna be too old and I’ll have
done missed my chance. But I don’t
care. I ain’t going out with just
anybody.
“Busy this week,” I say, giving the trash a little kick.
“You always busy, Rosie,” Charlie say.
“Miz Corliss need my help with her Bobby,” I say, even though she’s
said no such thing.
“Someday you’ll say yes, Rosie,” he promises me.
Excepting I know I won’t. I
don’t want to spend my life with Charlie or even one night.
When I get back in the house, Miz Corliss be in full out panic
mode. She usually got this perfect blond
hair, not a strand out of place, but now it’s nearly come undone from her
bun. She’s holding a giant wood board that’s
taller than her, and looking like she just don’t know what to do. “Oh, Rosie, thank God!” she say when she see
me. “Put this outside.”
She thrust that board into my hand and I just look because I don’t know
what to do with a big old board neither.
“Miz Corliss?” I say. “Where…?”
“Over the steps,” she say as if I’m thick.
Like I said before, Mama taught me never to talk back. So I take the big board and squeeze it out
through the front door. I have to tilt
it to make it go, and it fits only just barely.
It’s heavy and I’m straining to keep it in my hands. When Charlie catches sight, he runs over to
help me. Sometimes it’s good to have a
man sweet on you.
“Over the steps,” I gasp.
We lay the board to cover all them steps to the front door. Charlie take one end and I take the other and
we get it straight as we can. Charlie look
at the board and he get this interested look on his face. “Bobby Corliss must be hurt real bad,” he
say.
I frown. “Why you say that?”
“Because Miz Corliss done made him a ramp for a wheelchair.”
I look down and realize he’s
right. But that can’t be. Because I just can’t imagine handsome Bobby
Corliss in a wheelchair.
###
Charlie, he smarter than I give him credit for.
In the next few hours, Miz Corliss mostly be
directing me and Charlie to get all Bobby’s stuff down from his bedroom
upstairs and making him a new bedroom in the sitting room. She don’t explain why, but I’m guessing that
Bobby really can’t go up the stairs.
The hardest part is Bobby’s bed. We move it in a bunch of pieces, but it’s
still so heavy that my arms ache. I
nearly collapse when we get to the bottom of the stairs, and Charlie, he say,
“You rest yourself, Rosie. I’ll get down
the rest.”
Miz Corliss won’t let me just sit around so I go
about organizing Bobby’s new room. He’s
got hisself least ten trophies to put up on his dresser. Bobby, he a big athlete in school. And now he a big war hero. I overheard Miz Corliss saying on the phone
that he shot hisself a boatload of them Nazis.
I adjust a photo of Bobby. The black and white of the photo don’t do him
justice, it don’t. It don’t show how his
blond hair gleams and his blue eyes twinkle, but it do show his powerful jaw
and the broad shoulders. I wonder if he
still look the same.
Bobby got a big bookcase, filled with thick
novels. Bobby, he love to read. I run my hands over the binding of each book,
smiling at the familiar titles. The
books has got dusty. Later, I gone dust
them for Bobby, make sure his books look right nice for him.
Mama nearly raised Bobby Corliss, to hear her tell
it. She took care of him every day when
he was just a little baby and up through high school, finally giving up the job
to me when Bobby went away to war. I got
raised hearing stories about Bobby and all his achievements. Mama took personal pride in him. I also got to hear about all the girls. To hear Mama tell it, Bobby had taken out
just about every pretty girl in Mississippi.
“He always treated those little girls right though,” she told me. “Never left them cursing his name.”
Since I been working for the Corliss family, I met
Bobby a few times. One of those times been
when he come home for the Christmas holidays.
He wasn’t alone then. He brought
along Miss Cecelia, with her white-blond hair and pink rosy cheeks, and
according to Miz Corliss was the prettiest girl in all of Mississippi. Miz Corliss said Bobby done good when he asked
Miss Cecelia to marry him, and she said yes because who wouldn’t want to marry
a handsome war hero? As for Bobby, he
was getting the prettiest girl in Mississippi who was well off to boot. Miz Corliss was ‘specially happy about that
last part, I hear her telling her friend on the phone about all the money her
Bobby was marrying into.
This was my first Christmas dinner and I knew before
I served it that I overcooked that danged turkey. Mama even kept saying to me beforehand,
“Rosie, don’t you be cooking that turkey too long!” I could see the unhappy look on Miz Corliss’s
face as she chewed on the turkey breast.
But for the sake of company, she at least played like it wasn’t so bad.
Until Miss Cecelia had to go saying, “Elizabeth, your
girl has overcooked the turkey something awful!”
Miz Corliss got this pinched look on her face, and
before I knew what was what, I heard her yelling, “Rosie! You get in here!”
I hurried in, wiping my hands on my apron. “Yes’m?”
“How dare you insult us by serving us this dry turkey!”
Miz Corliss barked at me.
“I’m so sorry, ma’am.”
Miz Corliss, she looked me up and down and decided I
wasn’t sorry enough. “I’m going to take
the cost of this turkey out of your wages.”
My heart, it done fell a million miles. That turkey surely cost more than I made it
in a month. How would I explain this to
Mama?
“You’ll do no such thing, Mother!” Bobby spoke up. He took a big ol’ bite of turkey thigh. “I think Rosie cooked this turkey just
right.”
Bobby might have only been twenty years old, but with
his daddy gone, he was the man of the house now. And what he said was the law. So I didn’t get charged for no overcooked
turkey. I was thanking my lucky stars
that Bobby liked my cooking most of the night, but then before he run off back
to Europe, he come see me in the kitchen one last time, looking tall and
important in his uniform. He said to me,
“Goodbye, Rosie. You learn how to cook a
turkey like your mother next year.
Because that one was just terrible.”
And then he winked at me as I pressed a sopping wet plate into my chest.
When I told Mama what Bobby done for me, and she
smiled and laughed. “That Bobby Corliss
will do just about anything for a pretty face.”
“But I ain’t a white girl, Mama,” I pointed out.
“Bobby don’t care nothing about that,” she said.
Bobby come home two other times since then, each time
looking more handsome than the last, and I figured out Mama was right. Bobby was always real nice to me, treated me
just like a pretty white girl and not like his mother’s servant.
Miz Corliss keep checking her big ol’ grandfather
clock, saying Bobby’ll be here any minute.
Another soldier is giving him a ride here from the airport. She finally puts a chair by the window and
plops down in it, staring at the driveway.
I keep on dusting and making like I’m busy, but truth is, I’m staring
out the window too.
Half past four, an old truck pulls into the driveway
and Miz Corliss, she stands up so fast her chair topples back. I rush over to right it for her.
“Rosie,” she say to me. “You come on out too. Bobby may need some help.”
I follow Miz Corliss outside, craning to see Bobby’s
face through the car window. He’s
sitting in the passenger seat and looking just as handsome as he always
do. But when his friend in uniform get
out of the car, he just keep on sitting there.
I see the friend open the trunk and pull out a folded up wheelchair.
That’s when Bobby’s door pops open and I see what
parts of him got left back in Germany. His
legs. Both of them. All of them.
Miz Corliss, she gives this little gasp and clutches
her chest like she’s gonna go and faint.
And I’m thinking to myself, “Miz Corliss, don’t you dare be fainting on
me!” But she stays up on her own two
feet, thank the Lord.
Bobby’s pants legs are pinned under what’s left of
his legs, which let me tell you, ain’t much.
Maybe six or eight inches on either side, if that. He swings them out of the car, and grabs his
friend ‘round the neck. The friend lift
him into that wheelchair, then Bobby right himself and he good to go.
Bobby, he wave his hand at us and he grinning like
there ain’t nothing at all wrong with any of this. Meantime, Miz Corliss’s eyes are popping out
and she looks like she damn near gone cry.
He wheels over to us, his grin slipping just a smidge. “Bobby!” Miz Corliss say, her voice
breaking. “I’m so happy you’re home.”
Bobby look up at Miz Corliss’s face. He still looking real handsome, least from
the waist up. “Gee, you don’t look that
happy, Mother.”
Miz Corliss seem like she can’t think of nothing to
say, which is near a miracle if you ask me.
Anyhow, she nods in my direction.
“You remember Rosie, right? She’s
going to be helping you out from now on.
At your disposal any time you need her.”
Bobby turns his eyes on me. Them eyes so blue, you can’t hardly believe
it. I ain’t never seen nothing as blue
as Bobby Corliss’s eyes. “That so,
Rosie?”
“Yes, Mister Robert,” I say, bowing my head.
“You show some respect now, Rosie!” Miz Corliss snaps
at me. I thought I’d been doing that by
bowing. “You call my son Mister Corliss now. Or else, sir.”
“Yes, sir, Mister Corliss,” I mumble.
“That’s better,” Miz Corliss say. She feel better ‘bout herself now that she
got some yelling out of her system.
“Now, Rosie, you take Mister Corliss’s bags and we’ll go inside.”
Miz Corliss, she march on into the house like she in
a parade or something. Bobby though
hangs back with me. He take one of the
heaviest bags right out of my arms and put it in his lap. “By the way,” he say to me, “you don’t have
to call me Mister Corliss. Bobby is
fine.”
“Yes, sir, Mister Bobby,” I say.
“No,” he say.
“Not Mister Bobby. Just Bobby.”
I don’t know what he’s playing at. Miz Corliss will up and go crazy if she hear
me calling her son by his first name.
And he know that.
“Don’t worry about my mother,” he say, winking at
me. “Please. Just Bobby.”
I watch him as he pushes up the ramp Charlie and I
done laid out for him earlier today. He
nearly loses the bag on his lap as he does it, but he gets up there without any
mishap. The front door’s still open and
it’s a tight squeeze but he can make it through.
“We rearranged everything,” Miz Corliss say, looking
right proud as punch, even though me and Charlie did most of the work. “Your new bedroom is in the den.”
“Uh huh,” Bobby say.
He casts a glance up the stairs and for just one little second, he get
this look on his face. Like he real
sad. But then he’s all smiles again one
second later. “It looks great, Mother. I appreciate it.”
Except Miz Corliss, she didn’t plan this so good as
she thought. The way the furniture
arranged, Bobby can’t get through the whole of the living room to get to his
new bedroom. Miz Corliss see him trying
to make it between the sofa and the coffee table and she burst into tears. She crying so hard, she fall onto the couch,
her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry,” she
cry. “I’m so sorry, Bobby.”
Bobby reach over and shove the coffee table aside so
he can get to his mama. He puts his arm
around her. “It’s okay, Mother, really,”
he say. “I’m okay. I’m really okay. I swear it.”
I don’t know what Bobby Corliss is playing at
though. He ain’t okay. Boy’s got no legs. And ‘less they growing back, he be in for a
world of hurt.
Pieces, Part 2
I make everyone some coffee, and Miz Corliss, she
finally stop crying. We clear us a path
to Bobby’s room and I get told to help him unpack, even though Bobby keep
saying he don’t need no help. “Really,
Rosie,” he tell me as I near have to wrestle a suitcase away from him. “I can unpack my own bags.”
“Your mama say to help you,” I say. “And she my boss. So I be helping you.”
“Well, I’m your boss too, right?”
Bobby raise up his eyebrows at me, but sister, I ain’t
moving. Miz Corliss gone yell at me if I
don’t help her boy.
“Fine,” Bobby say.
“Stay. But I’m going to unpack
myself. You can keep me company.”
“Okay,” I say.
But I don’t dare sit down. Just
in case Miz Corliss come bursting in.
“How’s your mother?” Bobby ask me.
He got this fond tone in his voice when he ask about
Mama. I like that. “She good,” I tell him.
“Did she get my letters?”
About every six months when Bobby was at war, we got
ourselves a letter from a Mr. Robert Corliss.
Mama, she got so excited when she see the letters. She’d cry out, “Bobby! He all right!” Now Mama don’t read so good, but I helped her
and we read each letter start to end. In
each one, he asked about me too. Just
being polite, I know.
“Yes, she did, Mister Bobby.”
“Bobby,” he say firmly.
“Yes, sir.” Oh
Lord, how am I going to get away with calling him that? Don’t he know he just making it harder for
me?
I watch him as he pull out a few pair of his
pants. They all got the long legs, not
cut off and pinned like his pants are now.
Trying to make myself useful, I say, “You want me to sew up all your
pants legs for you?”
Bobby look down at the pants in his hands. “No.
Uh, not… yet.” Except I don’t
know what he waiting for. Legs ain’t
gone grow back, like I said.
I sit on his bed, just waiting for him to finish
packing. My eyes go back to that there
bookcase, and Bobby sees me looking. He
get this funny look on his face. “You
read most of those, didn’t you?” he ask.
I lower my eyes.
“I don’t know what you’s talkin’ about.”
I don’t look at him.
He might know our secret, but Mama say it’s nothing we could ever talk
about. If Miz Corliss find out, we be in
big trouble. Not Bobby, but Mama and
me. I need this job.
Thank the Lord, Bobby don’t mention them books again.
After he got most of his clothes put away, Bobby tell
me he got to use the bathroom. The den
has an attached bathroom, but I can see straight away that his big ol’
wheelchair ain’t gone fit through the door.
He gives in a try, one, two, three times. He ain’t gone make it. I could’ve told him that from the get-go.
“Damn,” Bobby say, wiping his hair from his face.
“I fetch you a jug from the kitchen,” I say, relieved
to finally be able to make myself useful.
“Rosie, wait…”
But I make it to the kitchen and rummage through the
cabinets, looking for an old cup that Bobby can use as a pee-jug. I find this chipped ceramic cup that Miz
Corliss don’t ever use no more, and I bring it to Bobby. He don’t look happy, but he pees in the
pee-jug while I step out, and then I come back and go empty it in the toilet.
“We’re going to fix this,” Bobby say. “I’m not having you help me every time I need
to use the bathroom.”
“That’s my job,” I say.
“It ain’t your job,” Bobby say, and now he got his
face all screwed up like he real upset.
“I don’t know what my mother told you, but I’m not helpless. I’m gonna do everything myself, and no
offense, Rosie, but I just don’t need you.”
“I understand, sir,” I say.
“Rosie,” Bobby start up, but then he just up and give
up.
Another place it turn out Bobby’s wheelchair just
plum don’t fit is in the kitchen. He
don’t mind that so much, and I’m guessing he don’t spend much time in the
kitchen, nohow. He got to ask me to get
him a glass of water, but he’d probably be asking for that anyways as the
glasses is on the top cupboard.
As I’m cooking dinner for the Corliss family, I hears
Bobby calling to me from the door of the kitchen. “Rosie,” he say. “I need you.”
I’ve got two pots going on the stove and I don’t want
to leave them, but I can’t go saying no to Bobby, so I ask, “What you need?”
Bobby, his handsome face turn the color a Mama’s
beets. “I need to use the bathroom,
Rosie. You know, not for peeing.”
“Oh!” I lower
the heat on my pots and wipe my hands on my apron. I don’t know what we’s gone do. You can’t make a poop-jug. I got to get Bobby on that toilet.
I follow him to his bedroom and he makes it as far as
he can, to the edge of the bathroom. I
eye his body. I reckon without his legs,
he ain’t gone be so heavy as most grown men.
“I can try to lift you,” I say.
Bobby nods. He
adjust hisself in his chair and I come ‘round to face him. He reaches out and grabs me ‘round the
neck. When he’s up in the air, I feel
his right stump poking into me, then the left.
They seem to be flailing. Like I
‘spected, he ain’t heavy at all. Well,
he ain’t like a feather, but I can lift him easy onto the toilet.
“Thank you, darlin’,” Bobby say, when he on the
toilet. He grab onto the sink to keep
his balance.
He still got his pants on and I don’t know how he
gone manage this. “You need me to help
you pull your pants down?”
“Of course not,” Bobby say.
I nod and leave the bathroom, shutting the door and
waiting outside. I hear Bobby grunting a
bit, following by a loud crash. I come
rushing back in and find Bobby on the floor, flat on his belly, his pants only
halfway down. Oh, Lord. Why don’t the boy listen to me when I offer
to pull down his pants for him?
“I gone get Miz Corliss,” I say.
“No!” Bobby yells. He
trying to turn over, but it ain’t easy for him.
“I’m fine. I’m really fine. I promise.
Just help me up.”
Bobby, he finally get hisself flipped
over, and he just lie there for a second, prop up on his elbows, breathing fast
like he just done run a marathon. He look up at me with those blue, blue
eyes, and I just don't know what to do. I know I best call Miz Corliss,
but he won't be liking that.
“Maybe,” he say, “if you help me take
my pants off first...”
I ain't in no position to argue.
Bobby, he undo the button on his pants and I get a hold of them and pull
them off what left of his legs. I gotta tell you, it's a shock to see
Bobby's legs. They just two withered little nubs, covered in thick scars
and looking right angry and red. Mama always taught me you don't ever
stare, but it hard, I tell you.
Bobby don't say boo this time as he
grab onto my shoulders and I pull him back up onto the toilet. But he
gets it done this time, and I wait outside the whole time to help him back in
the wheelchair and to get his pants back on. His voice get real low and
quiet as he say, “Thank you, Rosie.”
###
Usually I get on home after I serve dinner to Miz
Corliss at six, but I know without being told that I be staying late tonight. Bobby, at least, he his normal self again,
laughing and joking around. Makes me
feel better. I get worried when I see
Bobby looking so sad.
I stay all through dinner and clear away the plates
when they done. When I take Bobby’s
plate, he say to me, “Rosie, your meatloaf is even better than your mother’s.”
I look away, trying not to let on how much his praise
make me happy. Mama is one a the best
cooks in town. “You better never say
that to Mama,” I warn him.
“I ain’t stupid,” he say, a big ol’ sloppy grin on
his face.
“Rosie,” Miz Corliss say to me as I pick up the last
of the dishes. “What do you think about…
staying over the night? You can have the
guest bedroom.”
Miz Corliss, she really scared about taking care of
Bobby. I know it cuz I once heard her
tell Miz Jenkins down the block that her house is worth more since no coloreds
never stayed here, but she still want me here.
“If I’d a known,” I say. “I’d a brung
my overnight bag, Miz Corliss. But I
don’t have any clothes or—”
“Can’t you just wear the same rags you’re wearing
now?” Miz Corliss snap at me. Her bright
red painted lips are set in an angry little line.
“Mother, Rosie don’t need to spend the night,” Bobby
say, looking cross. “We’ll be fine. Rosie, you go on home.”
I still ain’t sure who the boss of me is, so I just
stand there, looking between the two of them, until Bobby say to me, “Git!”
Bobby though, he just bein’ nice. He want me to stay as much as his mama
do. He don’t want to be handing no pee-jug
to his mama to empty. I don’t want him
to have to do that neither, but it make me smile just to imagine the look on
Miz Corliss’s face.
The sun already be going down when I get myself
outside and start off my walk to the bus.
I don’t got a car and even if I did, I don’t know how to drive. It take me damn near thirty minute to make
the walk to the bus stop, but I ain’t got no choice if I need to have work.
“Rosie! Hey,
Rosie!”
That be Charlie, running to catch up with me. He huffing and puffing, waving his hand at me
from down the block, just in case I be blind.
When he catch up with me, he lean forward, breathing heavy. He got a sheen of sweat on his hairline. “I’s gone walk you to the bus stop, Rosie.”
“No need,” I say.
“I made a promise to your mama that I’d keep you
safe,” Charlie say. “You want I should
break a promise to your mama?”
“Mama know I can take care a myself,” I say.
I turn on my heel and start walking, but Charlie just
fall into step beside me. He sure don’t
listen. But I guess it ain’t so bad
having him with me. As long as he don’t
get any ideas that this mean I be sweet on him or nothing.
We get to the bus stop, and I turn to Charlie and
say, “Thank you.”
“You is welcome,” Charlie say. He smile at me. His teeth is a little yellow, but pretty
straight. He have a good smile, though
not nearly as handsome as Bobby Corliss’s.
“How about letting me take you to dinner, Rosie Jackson?”
I drop my eyes.
“I just can’t, Charlie,” I say.
“You is nice and all, but… I got a lot of work to do for Miz
Corliss. She need a lot of help right
now.”
Charlie get this angry look on his face. “You mean taking care of her crippled son?”
I stick out my chin.
“Don’t call him that. Bobby
Corliss is a good man.”
Charlie shake his head. “No, he ain’t. I thought you was smarter’n that, Rosie.”
“He is,” I
say again, louder this time.
“Well, then,” Charlie say to me. “Maybe next time, Mr. Bobby Corliss can walk
you to the dang bus stop.”
Charlie turn on his heel and march off down the
street, madder than a wet hen. Bobby
Corliss won’t never walk me to the bus stop.
A white man, even one as nice as Bobby, don’t be escorting a colored
girl to the bus stop. And anyways, Bobby
can’t walk no more.
To be continued...
Pieces, Part 3
It’s late when I get home, and I can tell Mama be
worried about me, but she know Bobby get back today, so she’s ‘specting me
late. She come to greet me at the door,
her close-cropped, tightly curled hair with more gray than I always
remember. She ain’t so old, but sometime
she look it. “You get inside, girl,” she
say. “You must be stone tired.”
“I’m okay,” I say, although when I get inside, I damn
near collapse into a chair. It feel so
good to get off my feet.
“It ain’t safe for a young girl to be comin’ home so
late,” Mama say in her scolding voice.
“Charlie, he walk me.”
When I mention Charlie, Mama’s whole face brighten up
and some of her wrinkles disappear. “I
like that Charlie. Why you don’t let him
take you out?”
“Mama…”
“You nearly twenty, Rosie!” Mama say.
“Don’t you want a man? And to
have chil’ren?”
“I do,” I say.
“But I don’t want Charlie!”
“Too stubborn for you own good,” Mama huff.
We had this conversation many times before. Mama want me to get a man something awful. But that man ain’t gone be Charlie. Anyways, I know it ain’t really Charlie that
Mama worried about right now. She be thinking
‘bout Bobby. Charlie just something to
distract her.
Finally, Mama sit down next to me. She got this anxious look on her face. “So… Bobby got home?”
I nod.
“And… he okay?”
I could keep it from her. She’d never find out Bobby done lost his
legs. But I can’t lie to my Mama. That ain’t how she raised me, so like or not,
she gonna get the truth. “He lost his
legs,” I say to her.
Mama stare at me.
“Both of them?”
“Ayuh,” I say.
“Both, almost up to the hip. He
usin’ a wheelchair.”
Mama quiet for a second, then she start to cry, just
like Miz Corliss did. She put her face
in her hands and her shoulders shake.
She love Bobby. He never had a
son, so he her little boy.
“Oh, Bobby,” she whisper, her voice shaking like a leaf
on a tree in the fall. “My poor boy…”
“He okay though,” I say. “He still actin’ happy. And Miss Cecelia gone come visit him this
week, Miz Corliss say.”
“Miss Cecelia…” Mama get this sneer on her face. “She ain’t right for him. I raised him better than to marry the likes
of her.”
“She sure pretty though.”
“Rosie, you is ten times prettier than her.”
Of course she’d say that—she’s my Mama. And even if it were truth, Bobby Corliss
would never fall in love with the likes of me.
It just don’t happen that way. He
gone marry Miss Cecelia, legs or not, and they gone be happy together. Happily ever after.
###
Next morning, I get to the Corliss house bright and
early. Charlie working the backyard and
he still mad at me. I say, “Hi,
Charlie!” And he don’t give me that
bright smile like usual. He just keep on
raking.
Well, let him be mad.
I ain’t gone be bullied into going on no date with nobody.
When I get inside, I hear loud arguing coming from
Bobby’s bedroom. I remember Mama’s
warning not to eavesdrop on Miz Corliss, but you have to be deaf not to hear
this. Miz Corliss saying, “We don’t have
the money, Bobby. That’s all there is to
it.”
“How much could it cost to widen a door?” Bobby say,
sounding right angry. I get closer to
the bedroom and can just barely see Bobby sitting in his wheelchair. He wearing a different shirt today, a white
undershirt I remember washing a week past.
His legs may be gone, but he still got good, strong muscles in his arms
and in his chest. I see he tucked his
pants legs under his stumps, and they all bunched up.
“It doesn’t matter how much, because we just don’t
have it,” Miz Corliss say. “And anyway,
you have Rosie to help you.”
“I don’t want Rosie helping me onto the toilet every
day!” Bobby say. He really sound mad.
“What’s so wrong with that?” Miz Corliss say. “It’s her job to help you.”
Bobby’s next words come out real strained, like he
talking through his teeth: “I don’t want Rosie helping me with that.”
The way he say it, it almost sound like he really
respect me. I grip my handbag, waiting
to hear what his mama have to say to that.
“Don’t be silly, Bobby,” Miz Corliss say. “She’s just a servant. What’s the difference?”
There’s this long, long silence. Finally, Bobby say real quiet, “Mother, I
just want to be able to use my bathroom.”
The handbag fall right out of my hand and land on the
floor loud enough to wake the dead. Miz
Corliss and Bobby look up and see me standing there. “Sorry, ma’am,” I say to Miz Corliss. Then to Bobby: “Mister Corliss.”
Bobby, he look a little embarrassed but he don’t say
nothing. Miz Corliss though, she look
angry to see me standing there. “Rosie!”
she yell at me. “You spying on us?”
“No,” I say quickly.
“But… I just… I mean, if you really want to fix that there door, Charlie
could do it real cheap.”
Bobby’s eyes get real wide, but Miz Corliss say, “And
you really think I’d trust a colored man to do construction on my house? Absolutely not.”
“Mother,” Bobby say.
“If he could really fix it…”
“He could,” I say, nodding my head. “That Charlie real good with tools. He could do it lickity split.”
“Lickity split,” Bobby say, flashing me a big ol’
smile. “That sounds good to me.”
Miz Corliss don’t look happy at all. “Bobby, I really don’t think—”
“Ask him,” Bobby say, and I know by the tone of his
voice that I got to do it.
I go on back outside and Charlie still raking the
leaves. He doing it slow, taking his
time so Miz Corliss think it more work than it is. I clear my throat real loud so as to get his
attention but he don’t even look up.
Finally, I say, “Charlie!”
He lift his eyes and frown at me. “What you want, Miss Rosie?”
“Miz Corliss got a job for you,” I say. I hope he be happy I got him work and he stop
being so angry at me. “She pay you
extra.”
“What’s the job?” he ask, squinting at me with his
dark eyes, all suspicious.
“She want you
to make the doorway to Mister Bobby’s bathroom wider so he can get in with his
wheelchair.”
Charlie leans his rake against a tree. “You sayin’ Bobby Corliss can’t get into his
own bathroom?”
I nod.
Charlie get this big grin on his face. “So how he going?”
“Well, he be going in a jug,” I say. Charlie look at me and he start laughing like
I just said the damn near funniest thing he ever heard. He smackin’ his knee and everything. “Charlie Jones, it ain’t funny!”
Charlie wipe a tear from his eye. “Rosie, you tell Mister Bobby Corliss that I
ain’t fixing his doorway for a million dollars.
So he can go right on making in a jug.”
I know Charlie need the money. Why he be turning down an easy job? Just ‘cuz he don’t like Bobby? I knew that boy had no sense.
I just about turn ‘round and go back in the house,
but then I think of the look on Bobby’s face when I told him Charlie’d fix the
door. I ain’t going back in there with
bad news. “Charlie,” I say. “Please fix the doorway. Don’t be a fool.”
Charlie get serious now. He look me over and say, “All right, Rosie,
I’ll fix Bobby’s door for him. But you
gotta go out to dinner with me tonight.”
He got me. I
can’t be saying no or else Bobby will have to keep on peeing in a jug. He don’t deserve that. “Fine,” I say. “One dinner.
That be all.”
A big smile spread across Charlie’s black lips. “We gone have a great time, Rosie. You won’t be regretting this.”
I is too angry to say nothing back to him. I march back in the house and find Bobby in
the living room, a newspaper spread out over what left of his legs. One of his pants legs has worked its way
loose and is hanging down empty. “He
gone do it,” I say.
Bobby smile at me.
I have to tell you, Bobby’s smile puts ol’ Charlie’s to shame. It’s like Bobby’s face was made for
smiling. “You’re the best, Rosie,” he
say. “Thank you.”
I don’t mention what I had to do to get the bathroom
fixed up for him. Truth is, I don’t want
him to know.
###
Charlie go fetch his tools from his home and he
manage to fix up the door real fast. Miz
Corliss don’t like it because it don’t look pretty since he removed part of the
frame and all, but Bobby, he real happy.
“You did a great job, Charlie,” he say.
And Charlie just grunt and take the money. I still don’t get why Charlie hate Bobby so
much but he sure do.
Bobby still messing with his pants legs, trying to
get them tucked under. Trouble is, his
legs too short and the pants, they too long.
Whenever he tuck them, they just bunch up or fall out. I don’t get why Bobby don’t let me fix them
up for him. I offer again, but he just
say, “No, Rosie, that’s okay.”
“It won’t take me long,” I say. “Let me do your pants for tomorrow. Miss Cecelia coming tomorrow, ain’t she?”
Maybe I be imagining it, but Bobby’s face gets a little
pale when I mention Miss Cecelia. He
look down at his legs and he say, “No, Rosie.
I’ll be fine.”
That afternoon, Bobby get hisself a visit in the form
of Edward Dixon. The Dixons and the
Corlisses been old friends for a long time, and Miz Corliss always be getting
visits from Miz Dixon. Eddie Dixon’s one
of Bobby’s oldest friends, and he been at the war too, although I overheard Miz
Dixon saying they sent him up to Alaska to the Aleutian Islands, wherever that
is. He come back whole, anyways. Eddie ain’t never was as handsome as Bobby,
but he seem nice. A little short, but always
got a big smile and too many freckles.
Maybe that why they sent him to Alaska—thought he needed to go somewhere
cold with all them freckles.
When I open the door and see Eddie standing there, I
give him my best smile but I don’t say nothing but hello, because that wouldn’t
be proper. “Hi, Rosie!” Eddie say.
“Hello, Mister Dixon,” I say.
“You can call me Eddie, you hear?” he say. Excepting he knows just as well as Bobby that
I can’t.
Bobby be wheeling out of his bedroom and he raise his
hand to greet his friend. When all of
him get in view, I expecting Eddie to get all upset like Miz Corliss, but Eddie,
he don’t bat an eye. He keep that smile
on his face and he say, “Bobby, don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re
missing a pair of legs.”
Bobby snort with laughter. Then they hug, which is kind of sweet, if you
ask me. I hope Miss Cecelia will be so
understanding.
“Can I get you anything?” I ask them.
“No, Rosie,” Eddie say to me, and he looking at me
like all the boys do. “Don’t you bother
yourself. Bobby and I will be in his
room.”
Eddie and Bobby go into his bedroom and shut the door
behind them. But I still be working in
the living room, and the walls in this here house is paper thin, so I can hear
just about everything they saying. And
you know me, I can’t help but listen.
“Woo-whee!” Eddie be saying. “That Rosie, she’s something else, ain’t
she? Almost makes me wish I was colored.”
“Yeah,” Bobby say.
“I know what you mean.”
My face flush.
I heard white boys talking ‘bout me that way before, but not boys like
Bobby and Eddie.
“I don’t know how you stand it,” Eddie say. “Her going around in that cute little dress.”
“Hush up,” Bobby say.
“You know my mother would go crazy if she heard you talking that
way. Don’t you know any other girls who
don’t work for us?”
Eddie make a huffing noise. “It’s easy for you to say. You got CeCe.”
“Yeah,” Bobby say, his voice real quiet.
“Has CeCe come by since you been home?”
“She’s coming tomorrow,” Bobby say.
“You lucky dog,” Eddie say. “You must be excited as hell.”
“I am…”
Eddie cough a few times. “She knows about… what happened to you, don’t
she?”
“Yes, she knows,” Bobby say. I got to wonder how a girl like Cecelia took
the news that the boy she was marrying had his legs blown off. Wish I could have listened in on that there
conversation. “I just… you know how CeCe
is, Eddie. She likes everything just
so.”
“You worried she ain’t gonna like you anymore?”
“No, I’m not.”
But I hear that quiver in Bobby’s voice and I think he very
worried. “It’s just been a while seen
I’ve seen CeCe, that’s all.”
I remember what Mama said, about Cecelia being all
wrong for Bobby. I don’t know if Cecelia’s
wrong for Bobby, but he’s right about her wanting things just so. All’s I know is that if Cecelia go and break
Bobby’s heart, it’d just about kill him.
To be continued....
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