Gone Fishin' (4 page)

‘That’s
right, Momma, you know I take care’a you.’

‘Uh-uh,
baby, you takes care’a Raymond, an’ that’s why I
loves you,’ Momma laughed. ‘Yes, yes. Raymond take care’a
hisself…’

We settled
in and Momma broke out the scotch with hand-carved wood bowls that
she used for glasses. She poured us each a drink, and then another
one. We were down to the bottom of the second bottle. Mouse was
talking about the wedding when Momma turned to Clifton and asked,
‘An’ why is the po-lice chasin’ you, honey?’

‘Well
they ain’t really aftah me at all. Just sumpin’ come up
an’ me an’ Ernestine had ta go, that’s all.’

Momma Jo
had been smiling and pleased the whole time, but she frowned then.

‘He
kilt a boy in a bar fight, Momma,’ Mouse said. And before
Clifton could speak, ‘Momma don’t always know what’s
truf, Clifton, but she sure’n hell can smell a lie.’

Ernestine
was staring up at Momma’s face like she had never seen anything
like her. ‘Tell’er, Clift,’ she said. ‘She
ain’t gonna hurt us.’

‘You just trust
ev’rybody, huh, girl? I might as well go on back there an’
give up, huh?’

‘No!’

Momma Jo
smiled and said, ‘Com’on, honey, you tell me the truth
an’ I he’p.’ Those yellow teeth against her face
and the armadillo spoor brought to mind a bear in her dark den. She
seemed wild and violent and I could feel my heart working.

‘She
the best chance you got,’ Mouse told him. I didn’t say
anything. I knew that Mouse was working those kids for his own
purposes but I didn’t care. I was just a driver, a cabbie
waiting for his fare.

Clifton
was fair-minded, you could see that by the way he worried over the
pressure those three put on him. He was sullen and sulky but his arms
and shoulders were jerking so that you knew that the story wanted to
come out.

Mouse
poured him another scotch and Clifton busted open like an overripe
melon.

He told
Momma the same story he told in the car; he used the same words
exactly. I knew right then that Clifton couldn’t lie to save
his life.

It was a
strange day. That house was always midnight with its oil lamps
burning and the armadillos and the cat skirting the edges of the
room. Mouse was slouched up against the wall staring at the dead
fireplace as if it were raging. Clifton was looking into his lap and
Ernestine had her eyes glued to Momma Jo.

Jo was
taking it all in. She looked at each one in his turn. But when she
looked at me she’d catch my eye and smile so it seemed like
that old witch was flirting. She was more than twice my age but she
was still a handsome woman without a wrinkle on her fine-featured
face. And I knew that in women it’s the face that gets old
first.

She was
sitting on the stool with her legs crossed like a man, it was only
that long white apron that kept her modest. She was smoking a
hand-rolled cigarette for a long time before she said, ‘You
chirren got two thangs to do. First off you gotta hide while they
look fo’you. That is if that boy really is dead. But that’s
easy, ‘cause you kin stay here. I could use a strong boy like
Clifton and Ernestine can help me wit’ my herbs.

‘But
you got a worse thing ‘cause Clifton cain’t satisfy this
young girl’s womanly needs an’ she ain’t woman
enough t’teach him yet.’

‘Wha?’
Clifton was drunk by then so he staggered to his feet to challenge
the witch. Clifton was a big boy, about my height with more heft to
him, but Momma Jo had him by a head and twenty pounds.

She stood
up to his face and said, ‘Sit’own boy.’

And he
did.

‘I
ain’t worried ‘bout yo’ pride, honey. You can see
that Ernestine is out tryin t’make men appreciate what she got.
That’s ‘cause she want sumpin’. She want
satisfaction.’

Ernestine started crying.

Mouse had
that invisible smile across his face.

‘I
can he’p you chirren,’ Momma said. ‘I got a powder
bring out what’s sleepin’ in you, make you see each other
a whole new way.’

She went
to her table and started working with her powders and spoons. Mouse
crawled over and nudged my arm. ‘Oh this gonna be a gem, Easy,’
he whispered. ‘Momma Jo’s especiality is love.’

‘But
what’s this gotta do wit’ yo’ stepdaddy?’

‘Dont
know, but it’s lookin’ good,’ he said. ‘Aftah
while I’ma go out t’see a friend. Don’t you be
worried though.’

‘I
go wichyou.’

‘Uh-uh,
Easy. These country folks don’t like crowds too much.’

Right then
Momma Jo interrupted, ‘Ezekiel? Honey, reach over on that shelf
and bring me that blue jug. Yeah, that’s it. Bring it over
here, baby. Now, Clifton an’ Ernestine you’all bring me
yo’ cups.’

She poured
a strong alcohol liquid into their bowls and then carefully measured
some powder and dried leaves into each one.

Clifton
got a brown powder and Ernestine a white. ‘Now drink it all
down at once, don’t leave nuthin in the cup… yeah, that’s
it.’

They did
what she said like they were children. But I didn’t question it
either, because that’s how life was back then. You listened to
older folks and did what you were told. Even if you knew better you’d
follow the rules because that’s how we were raised. Everybody
but Mouse.

Mouse
never took an order unless that’s what he wanted to do. Mouse
wasn’t the only man I knew who’d stand up for what he
believed, but he was different in one way: Most men who stood up for
themselves would rather die than be slaves; Mouse would’ve
rather killed.

‘Okay,
babies,’ Momma said to Ernestine and Clifton. ‘You go sit
together next to the hearth. Ezekiel baby? Why don’t you blow
out some’a them lights an’ I tell you all a story.’

I went
around the big room blowing out lamps. It became more nighttime than
ever but I knew it was afternoon not ten yards from where we sat.

Momma Jo brought her stool in front of us and looked down on the two
lovers.

‘How you chirren feelin’?’

‘Fine,’ they said together.

Clifton
had softened with the drink. I think he felt better too, once he told
Jo his story. Good men always need to confess.

‘That’s
good,’ she said. ‘You was lookin’ at my husband,
huh, ‘Zekiel?’

I felt her
attention burning on me even though she was looking at them.

‘What
husband?’ I asked.

‘That’s
him up on the mantel place,’ she said, nodding at the row of
skulls. ‘I met him more’n twenny-three years ago. I’as
just a girl, hardly in my teens. He was a big man with a great big
laugh and powerful arms. Ev’rything about Domaque was big.’

A shiver
ran through Ernestine.

‘But
the biggest thing about him was his heart,’ Momma Jo continued.
‘He loved chirren an’ animals an’ trees an’
even dirt. He used to say that he wanted everybody to know him an’
he wanted to get to know ev’rybody he could.

‘If
a man had a job to do and it was too much for him, he’d call on
Domaque an’ that job was done. Dom didn’t ask fo’money
or barter or anything; if you give him somethin’ he was glad
t’take it and if you couldn’t pay, well, Dom knew what it
was like t’be poor too.’

The lovers
were frozen like startled deer. But every once in a while Ernestine
shook.

Momma Jo
flashed her yellow teeth and said, ‘Well, you know it’s
the same old story over and over again. I was a big girl fo’my
age. Matter’a fact I was bigger’n most women by the time
I was thirteen, and womanly too. My parents wanted t’fool
themselves that I was still a chile, but when I saw Dom my li’l
dolls fell away. When I see him an’ hear him laugh, ‘cause
he was always ready t’laugh, I’d just swell up inside so
it felt like the clothes was gonna split right off me.

‘You
know, Dom knew ev’ry fam’ly to a child fo’twenty
miles ‘round Pariah. He did work on ev’ry farm an’
backyard we got here but he kept findin’ excuses to be ‘round
our place. Dom was what we called a rover. He slept wherever he could
in trade fo’labor. He worked a lot at the Fontanot place next
to ours or at the Hollis farm down the road. And ev’ry chance
he got he’d drop by t’say hi t’Daddy, but you know
his eyes was on my woman’s body in that little girl’s
dress.

‘My
titties stuck straight out when I’as a girl.’ She looked
me in the eye when she said that.

‘Fin’ly
one day I got t’get away down to the Hollis place when Dom was
workin’ to pull a stump from their field. I go down there with
some bread an’ sausage an’ I told him ‘bout a place
where we could eat. An’ when we get t’my l’ll
hideaway in the trees I hand him the paper bag an’ then pull my
dress off. That’s all I could think about, I stripped down an’
looked at him. An’ do you know that big man went limp on the
ground just like a sack’a bones. I shoulda seen somethin’
was wrong right then but before I got a chance he come over me like a
tidal wave.’ She frowned, remembering pain and pleasure at the
same time. ‘He got me on my back and on my knees; he made me
ride’im like a horse. And once he got in me he didn’t
want out, uh-uh. I was sore and raw and bloody but Domaque kept
comin’. When I fin’ly couldn’t hold back and
started t’cry he got up an’ said, “Gimme that
sausage,” an’ I thought he was through an’ had
t’eat. But he scooped up the fat that hardened in the paper an’
rubbed it on his thing. Then he started slippin’ hi an’
outta me like a fish. You know they put spices hi that sausage an’
it burns ya if you got a cut. Yeah…’

Clifton
had his hand on his crotch and Ernestine hugged her chest but they
didn’t touch each other. They looked like tired children, about
to throw a fit.

‘That
was Domaque. First he taught me how men hurts women and then he
started t’cry. He was afraid ‘bout how my daddy would
have to fight ovah what happened. Seem like Domaque had a wife down
hi Looziana so he couldn’t do right by me and he liked my daddy
so he didn’t want t’kil’im.’ She sat back and
took a draw on her cigarette.

Momma Jo’s
face was handsome and hard, almost like a man’s face but you
could see she was a woman. ‘I got a room behind that blanket,
Ernestine. Anytime you want you an’ Clifton can go on back
there.’ Ernestine was pushing a small homemade pillow down
between her legs but she shook her head, no.

‘So
he ran off.’ Momma shifted over to me. ‘He come out here
when they wasn’t nobody in the swamp and he built this house.
And as soon as it was good enough t’sleep in he come an’
got me. I din’t wanna go but he needed me so bad that what I
felt din’t seem t’mattah. He took me out here and he
started callin’ me a witch. He said that I had spelled him an’
he had t’have me, an’ he did too. Ev’ry night he’d
come out here his pants was halfway down by the time he was in the
do’. At first I liked it but then it got to be too much, too
much…’

‘Uh!’
Ernestine had her hand down the front of Clifton’s pants,
pulling back and forth, hard; I didn’t know if he called out in
pleasure or pain.

‘You
chirren better go on back now. Go on, get in there behind the
blanket,’ Momma Jo said, and she walked across the room to pull
the blanket back for them. Clifton staggered like a drunk with
Ernestine pulling on his dick; she tried to hide what she was doing,
but you could tell.

When the
blanket swung down they started making love noises. I was on my feet
and headed for the front door when Momma touched my arm.

‘Oh
yeah, Clifton!’ came Ernestine’s voice from the other
room.

Momma Jo
said, ‘Come sit’own wit’ me, Daddy. Over here.’

I looked
over to where Mouse had been sitting but he was gone. There was no
sign of my friend. I remembered that he planned to see someone. I
wondered if he planned to leave me in that house.

‘Com’on,
sit’own, Daddy.’ Jo was leaning back on a pile of
pillows, pulling on my thigh. Ernestine was yelling in short coughs.
The armadillos wrestled in the corner. I got weak and fell to my
knees.

‘I
ain’t finished my story yet.’ She put her arms around me
and rested my head back against her shoulder. I was too dizzy to
fight her.

‘Oooooo-uh!’
The voice was so twisted I couldn’t tell if it was Ernestine or
Clifton.

‘You
wanted t’know how Dom’s head came t’be here, din’t
you?’ Jo’s whisper smelled of tobacco and whiskey, of
garlic and sweet chili. When she laid her hand on my thing I realised
it was hard.

‘I
cut it off myself,’ she said on a slender breath.

Ernestine
had settled down into long breathing sighs that cut into the room
like hot spoons into lard, but I didn’t pay much attention. My
stomach had started churning. I was sure that I was going to vomit,
but Momma Jo put her big hand against my chest and pressed, then
released, then pressed.

She said,
‘Shhhh, baby. Be quiet now,’ so softly that I could
barely hear her over Ernestine.

I laid
there and let her breathe for me. I could feel her heart pounding
from a vein throbbing in her thigh against my leg. Ernestine was
chanting Clifton’s name over and over. Momma Jo’s hand
was pressing down and letting go. I closed my eyes, wishing my mind
back home.

‘My
daddy s’pected Domaque of takin’ me,’ she said.
‘An* Dom was worried. He brought a old woman he called his
auntie out t’take care’ame ‘cause he din’t
come out too much, he was so scared that one’a daddy’s
friends would catch on. An’ Luvia, that was his auntie, started
t’teach me about herbs an’ other things.’

‘That
how you become a witch?’ My voice cracked; there was the taste
of bile in my throat.

‘It was Domaque made me a witch.’

‘Oh-ohhhhh,’ Ernestine softly sighed.

Momma Jo
pressed my chest, then she moved her hand down over my belly to press
my thing; then she pressed my chest again. She did that over and over
while she said: