died, I found myself missing my father more than ever before. I didn’t know it at the time, but he was in Florida, just a few miles away from Rhoda’s house. If I had reunited with him then, I know now that I would have avoided some of the other pain that was waiting to consume me.
I cried until I almost lost my voice during the very next telephone conversation with Rhoda. Not over Pee Wee running out on me or that other man dumping me for another woman, but over a royal mess that Rhoda’s older brother Jock had slid into.
Jock Nelson, his mind half gone after injuries he had sustained in Vietnam, had impregnated the teenage daughter of a Klansman. The girl wanted Jock to marry her and she wanted money for her and Jock to run away with. If she didn’t get her way, she threatened to go to her daddy and claim that Jock had raped her.
Rhoda was on fire and predicted what she called a “bloodbath” if the girl carried out her threat. I had not witnessed that level of anger from Rhoda since I told her about Mr. Boatwright. That anger didn’t last long because a few weeks later that white girl died in a freak bathtub accident and Rhoda was her old self again.
“See, God really don’t like ugly,” Rhoda told me in an unusually calm voice. “That white bitch got what she had comin’.”
I didn’t know why, but I sat looking at the telephone, long after Rhoda had hung up. I suddenly became profoundly uneasy. Something that I could not even bring myself to think about kept trying to creep into my mind, but I wouldn’t let it. I knew in my heart that there was more to the story involving that white girl than Rhoda had told me. I told myself that if it was meant for me to hear the whole story, someday I would.
With the news of the white girl’s death, the stunt that Pee Wee had pulled on me, and the fact that I had not gotten over Levi dumping me to marry another woman, I decided it was time to run away from my problems again.
During a brief visit to my aunt Berniece in New Jersey, I learned from her that my father was in Miami and that I had two half-sisters and a half-brother. At that point, my desire to “find” myself took on a new meaning.
When I returned to Pennsylvania I was too restless to remain there much longer. Even though Ohio had once repelled me like a snakepit, without giving it much thought, I decided it was time for me go back there to deal with the demons that had tormented me throughout my youth.
CHAPTER 18
My return to Ohio was a major event for me. In some ways I felt like I was just about to begin my life all over again. Even though, at twenty-eight, I felt like an old woman. My anger toward Mr. Boatwright was still as potent as ever. Some days I even made myself sick just by thinking about him. Being older and wiser now, I was determined to deal with my anger in a more positive way.
One thing I promised myself was, I would never let another person, male or female, abuse me and get away with it. Rhoda was too volatile and extreme when I turned to her for help. Besides, she could only do so much to support me from where she was now. The only person I had to really count on now was myself. And it was high time. I owed it to myself to increase my level of dignity if I wanted to get something out of life.
Mr. Boatwright had been the biggest personal indignation I had encountered so far. Levi Hardy marrying another woman while he was still involved with me was right behind that. I had pretty much gotten over that little stunt Pee Wee had pulled, fucking me and leaving me high and dry, but I wasn’t going to forget it.
In one of his infrequent letters, Pee Wee had told me that he had attended barber’s school and had opened “Pee Wee’s Barbershop” in the same strip mall where the Buttercup, the restaurant my stepdaddy owned, was located. He had two chairs. His cousin Steve worked for him, cutting and styling hair. Steve’s wife Helen worked in the shop also, doing manicures.
Pee Wee had a lot of customers for someone just starting out. His father, Caleb, had been one of Richland’s two Black barbers. He had retired and Pee Wee acquired most of his regular customers. Even though I was still mildly mad at Pee Wee, I was glad to hear that he was doing so well.
Pee Wee and a few other people had already been in the house with Muh’Dear for a few hours when I arrived by Greyhound from Pennsylvania. They had already guzzled beer and feasted on a Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings.
I was glad to see that during my ten-year absence, Muh’Dear had redecorated the house with new furniture. I didn’t care too much for the plaid couch and matching love seat in the living room, but the smoked-glass coffee and end tables added a nice touch. She had also painted every room the same warm shade of beige. The house looked a lot more modern than it had looked during my youth. Plush green carpets and huge live plants filled every room but the kitchen. There was a new stove and refrigerator in the kitchen. And for the first time, we had a breakfast table with chairs that matched.
With the brotherly hug and peck on the cheek I got from Pee Wee, I had a hard time believing that during his visit to Erie, we had made passionate love. I went limp in his arms, just recalling that night. For a moment, I felt like I’d left every bone in my body back in Erie. Pee Wee had to hold on to me to keep me from crumbling to the floor.
“Girl, we better get you somethin’ to eat. You feel like you goin’ to melt,” Pee Wee noticed, clutching me by my shoulders. As hefty as I was, it was easy for him to hold me up, now that he had rebuilt his own body. Even in his thick turtleneck sweater, I could feel the bulging muscles in his arms. “Welcome home, sister. I’m so glad you came to your senses and brought your butt on back here. We got a lot of things to catch up on,” Pee Wee told me eagerly. I didn’t know how to interpret the wink he gave me, but I was hopeful.
The few times that Pee Wee and I had communicated, by letter and telephone, he had not mentioned the passionate night we had spent in my apartment in Erie. And that hurt. I hated myself. I wanted to hate him but I couldn’t afford to lose the only close friend I had left. However, I deeply regretted the fact that I had let another man use my body. Not only with my consent, but for free.
Some grim thoughts crossed my mind and made me grimace. What if Pee Wee had not enjoyed that night with me in Erie? Had all that thrashing around and moaning he’d done in my bed been an act just to keep from hurting my feelings? Most of the men I had been with had not been that demonstrative. In fact, all one of my other former lovers had ever done was flop around on top of me, telling me in graphic terms what he was going to do to me. Then, he’d fallen asleep before doing any of it. I’d put up with that frustrating relationship for only one night. Just like Pee Wee had done with me. Had I frustrated Pee Wee? That would explain him sneaking out and not talking about that night with me. With a muffled sigh, I removed Pee Wee’s arms from around me and went around the room hugging everybody else.
Rhoda, pregnant with her third child, was in town visiting her parents and to help celebrate my return to Richland. The next evening around six she swept into the house, strutting like a peacock, flaunting her yellow leather jumpsuit like plumage.
The same people who had joined Muh’Dear for Thanksgiving dinner the day before had already returned.
Rhoda dominated the gathering in the house on Reed Street that evening, showing everybody pictures of her family and home. She generated so much heat, frozen butter would have melted in her mouth. And she was as beautiful as ever, tossing that heavy mane of hair like an ox tossing its tail. Other women who looked like me would probably not have wanted to be best friends with a woman who looked like Rhoda. But it didn’t bother me. I had accepted the fact that I was probably going to be a big, plain woman for the rest of my life. But I had learned to do things to enhance my appearance. I now dressed more stylishly, avoiding plaids, stripes, and large prints, and I spent a lot of money getting makeovers. Even without all that, I knew that Rhoda would have still made me feel attractive. After she had greeted everybody else that night, she complimented my appearance profusely, making me grin like a fool.
“Annette, girl, you look beautiful.” Rhoda patted my hair. “Keep those braids, honey. They take ten years off your face. My husband swears he prefers a more mature look and that’s the only reason I won’t wear my hair braided,” she squealed. Being a chatterbox