past, that she hid with so much care, had surfaced ever so slightly in one unmeasured word, due to her frantic and confused effort to deal with her quiet little housemaid of ten years. She knew that her husband had noticed and would let her know in a day or two by saying something snide about someone who was Jewish and therefore deserving of his antagonism. This time she promised herself that she would not let it pass, that she would stand up for her people.
She dialed Jeremy’s cell phone thinking he probably wouldn’t pick up for her, but he surprised her by answering.
“Mom,” he said quietly, “what happened back there?”
“I don’t know honey. Clarissa has flipped out. Your Dad is taking care of it. We think she’s dangerous and he’s taking care of it. You are to stay in our room, your Dad’s orders, and lock the door. We don’t know why. She just flipped out.”
Jeremy heard a car door close. “Hold on Mom. Some cops are here. I can see the car out front.” Jeremy could see the driveway from his second floor bedroom window. He saw two young officers get out and come up the path to the front door.
“Just stay where you are honey. They will handle things.”
“Mom, why are they here, and what will they do to Clarissa?”
“I don’t know honey. Your Dad is taking care of it. He’s handling it. Just stay where you are.”
As they spoke, the doorbell rang. Clarissa was still singing as she opened the door to see two very tall, young policemen.
“Lord, have mercy! This is my lucky day. I wondered when you were coming fuh me.”
“Ma’am” said the younger one politely, ”is your name Clarissa?”
“Damn,” she said. “I thought it was till I saw you fellas. Now I know the truth. My real name is Rosa Parks and I am ready to go.”
The two men shared a quick glance and the younger one said, “Do you have a coat, Ma’am?”
“Why, yes I do. I’ll go get it. You tell Dr. King what has happened. He’ll be glad to know that things are gettin’ started,” and she shuffled off to the kitchen to get her coat. She was careful to take her umbrella as well. “The mountains are rumblin’ Lord,” she half sang, half shouted. “The whole world is shakin’.” One of the policemen followed behind, helped her with her coat and they escorted her to the squad car and helped her in.
“You boys are mighty nice,” she said. “I thought you would be real mean. No offense. But you are very kind. Yes indeed, I am Rosa Parks and today is my lucky day.”
Late Thursday Afternoon
Jeremy watched as the two police officers helped Clarissa into the car.
He startled as one of them re-entered the house. He heard the footfall on the stair and opened his door to face a tall, young policeman.
“Are you Jeremy?” the young office queried.
“Yeah.”
“Are you okay? Did the old lady threaten you or hurt you in any way?”
“No. Of course not. What’s going on?”
“We’re taking her to a hospital for observation. Hey, call your Dad and let him know you’re okay.”
After the officer bounded back down the stairs and slammed the door, the silence rolled up the stairs to the landing where Jeremy stood dumbfounded. Suddenly, everyone was gone and the quiet of the house felt thick and unfriendly.
Jeremy called his mother before dialing his father. He said that Clasrissa was gone and that he was fine and that he was feeling a lot better. The truth was, that he had neglected his homework as Clarissa had surmised and needed the weekend to finish his paper on The Old Man and the Sea. His place on the tennis team was already shaky, thanks to a pop quiz in History, and a drop in grades could be a problem for him. Maybe the end of his scholarship hopes. He wasn’t sure but he wanted to hedge his bets.
He told her that his fever was down and he didn’t mind at all that she wanted stay at the club for dinner. He would find something in the freezer and just chill. He said a polite goodbye, took a breath then called his father.
“Yeah, I’m fine. No, she didn’t do anything. Of course not. She didn’t even come up the stairs. What’s going on?”
His father reassured him that it was all under control and it was in fact a good thing that this happened before anyone really got hurt. He said that he had a huge load of business to catch up on and would be very late.
Jeremy hung up the phone. He didn’t mind being alone. He preferred it to the subtle friction of dinner with his parents. He hated the polite conversation riddled with undercurrents, the nagging about grades, the subtle quizzes about his friends. He was glad to be alone. He turned on a CD and pulled a joint from under the shirts in his dresser and lit it, drawing the sweet smoke deep into his lungs . Three hits later he sat down in the mesh chair that hung from a hook on the beamed ceiling.
“Shit,” was all he could say as he swung in empty, stoned circles. He almost wished he had gone to school and risked the D on his late assigment. He would have missed all this crazy stuff. Clarissa wouldn’t have gotten weird and been taken away by the cops. What a mess. Finally, he clamped the joint and sent a text message to James, his current best friend.
COME OVER WHEN U GET OUT OF CLASS. WE CAN TAKE MY DAD’S SPORTS CAR AND GO 2 THE MALL.
Jeremy showered and dressed. He brought the breakfast tray down to the kitchen and washed the dishes. He looked around almost expecting to see Clarissa laughing and clapping in appreciation. Or in mockery. He wasn’t sure.
He rarely washed his own dishes. He didn’t feel like working on his paper. He hadn’t even finished reading the book, which he regarded as a monumental bore. What the hell was the old man doing in the damn boat anyway? He was pretty sure that he could feign sickness another day and still have the weekend for the Old Man and his stupid dead fish. He didn’t think his parents cared all that much about his day to day life.
He was still a little high when James rang the bell. They smoked together, sitting in Jeremy’s room. James looked up to Jeremy even though he pretended not to. He liked to hang in the mesh chair when he got high and Jeremy was in the mood to oblige him. He tried to tell James what had happened that morning.
“What do you mean some other voice came out of her? Like ‘Redrum’ or something?”
“Yeah, in a way.”
“Was she crazy or possessed?”
“I don’t know. My Mom said she was cutting up stuff with a butcher knife. Mom got pretty freaked out.”
“What happened when she grabbed you?”
“Man, it was so freaky. She grabbed my arm so tight it hurt. I mean she’s a little old lady for craps sake. She doesn’t have the strength to hurt me. And her voice was so deep, like a man. And her eyes. Shit. Her eyes were, like, weird.”
“Ooooh. So weird. Jeremy’s maid is possessed by demons. Ooooh, I’m so scared.”
“Shut up,” said Jeremy and he threw a pillow at James’ head. “Hey, do you have any money?”
“Are you kidding? You’re the rich one, asshole. Remember, I’m your little friend from across the tracks, dude.” James threw the pillow back, knocking a can of soda on the floor.
“Damn. Now you’re pissing me off.” He wiped up the soda with a rumpled tee shirt and tossed it into his laundry basket. “Let’s get the hell out of here. I’ve got some money.”
“Of course you have,” he said as they headed toward the landing. ”Where are we going?”
“Target practice.”
James yelled “Wahoo,” and slid down