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COPYRIGHT 2008 Black Writers' Guild
"I'm just going to the store, Weasel. Be a good girl for Mama and watch your baby brother."
"Do I have to, Ma?"
"Won't be long baby, I promise. Not like I'm running away or something."
Mama's all dressed up. Got on her red pumps and the white dress she wears to church on Sunday. Nellie says the dress ain't appropriate for church, that it shows off too much of Mama's big, dark bosom. But I like the dress, and the way it curves round Mama's hips and makes her look all pretty. And so does Reverend Sigmund. Whenever he shakes Mama's hand after the service he looks straight down the top of that dress, as if he expects Mama's breasts to pop out any minute.
"Thanks for coming, Mrs. Portam. Did you enjoy the service?"
"Sure did. Reverend, best one this year," and then Mama would cough so that her breasts would bounce around a little. Reverend Sigmund would blink, all stunned like, and then smile at me and my brother.
"Well, yes. My! Your children certainly are getting big ..."
Mama always laughs about it later. Says that even God's messengers know a nice pair of boobs when they see them. Only it ain't Sunday, and I be sure Mama not going to church.
"But Mama. I want to go over to the park," I say, thinking maybe: some of my friends be hanging out and watching them junior high boys mess around the court.
"Take your brother with you, or go over to Nellie's, Weasel. Maybe if you're nice she'll look after him for a while. I gotta go, sweetie, your Uncle David's waiting outside for me." Mama bends over and gives me a kiss. Her face smells like powder and perfume. I love the smell.
"I'll be back in a while," and she's gone, teetering down the front steps with her bottom wriggling around in that dress. Uncle David is standing on the sidewalk. He sees me watching and waves. I don't like Uncle David. And I especially don't like the way he's always squeezing Mama's thigh with this grin on his face, all pleased like.
"How you doing in school, Weasel?" he always asks me, like it's the only question he knows.
"Fine!"
"Good! You know I didn't stay in school long, Weasel, but I always say ..." I don't listen much to Uncle David, he's boring, and his breath smells like sardines. Mama says not to be too hard on him, that he just wants me to like him. I know that ain't true though, he's much more interested in touching Mama's body with those big hands of his. He's just like all the rest. Figures if he's nice to me, Mama will like him better.
Mama walks over to Uncle David and kisses him on the mouth. Uncle David puts his hand on Mama's behind and gives it a squeeze. I shut the door.
It's the middle of the summer and the house is hot. I try to pick up a bit, wash the dishes in the sink and throw away Uncle David's empty beer cans, but the heat just gets worse. After awhile I lie down in the middle of the floor and put the old fan by my face.
When Dad was still around he'd take me and Johnny down to the reservoir on days when the heat felt like it was melting right through you. People ain't supposed to swim in the reservoir, but Dad said it would be okay as long as he was there. Sometimes I ask Mama if I can 1 go down there now, but Mama says it wouldn't be safe, with Johnny not being able to swim and all. The fan ain't doing much good, so I try to imagine how that water felt, cool and clear, it was, but all that comes back to me is all them mosquitoes that were there, too. I think of all that humming those bugs used to make, and feel myself falling off to sleep when Johnny comes in the room rubbing his eyes.
"Where's Mommy?" he asks.
"She's gone to the store."
Johnny stands over me digging in his eyes, with his little belly hanging out of his shorts. Nellie says Johnny's too quiet...
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