49/Renee #2
I kept my comment to myself, but if her caseworker was any kind of woman she would have just taken her own money and bought the ticket her damn self. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back with your money in a few minutes.”
Hattie nodded, then climbed out of the car. I waited until she was inside before I pulled off and headed to the bank. I had barely made it to the comer when the tears started running down my face. It was so sad. I thought about all the times I had turned that poor woman away.
I picked up the phone and called Kayla. She immediately sensed something was wrong. “Renee, what’s wrong with you?”
“Girl, I’m sitting in my car crying about this woman up the street.”
“The one who begs all the time?”
I had told her about the money and sanitary napkins.
“Yeah, she is so pitiful. I had a chance to really talk to her and she’s no crazier than my mama.
She’s just a nice woman who has a mental illness.
” I told her everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours and kept having to stop and start over because I was crying so hard.
All she wanted was to see her mother before she had died, and no one would help her.
What had the world become? Suddenly me having HIV wasn’t anywhere near as important as helping this woman.
“It’s a shame,” Kayla said with a sigh of despair.
“Yeah, I’m on my way to the bank to get her fifty dollars to buy her ticket.”
“That’s nice of you.”
“Anyway, I didn’t want anything, I just needed a shoulder to cry on.”
“Anytime.”
I hung up and made myself stop crying. You’re helping her now.
A few minutes later I was back at her duplex and found Hattie sitting out on the porch waiting. As soon as she saw me, she rose and opened the door.
“Come on in.”
I stepped into her apartment. It was so poor I had to make myself not cry. There was a beat-up couch and a coffee table in the living room.
“You can have anything you want,” she said, offering me any of her worldly possessions for my kindness. There was no way I could take anything from this woman even if she did have anything of value.
“I started packing this morning.” She signaled for me to follow her into her room. We moved through the kitchen. Dirty dishes were piled high in the sink. Canned goods with generic labels were on a small wooden kitchen table that had no chairs.
I stepped into her room and saw the twin-size bed and the small black-and-white television on top of a dresser that was missing a couple of drawers. In the middle of the floor was a suitcase that was almost full, and next to it was a large black garbage bag.
“You’re taking that bag with you?”
She looked concerned. “Yeah, I don’t have anything else. My suitcase is almost full.”
I was thinking about maybe giving her one of mine. “Is someone picking you up from the bus station?”
She nodded. “My brother will.”
She looked like she was waiting anxiously for something. Oh shit! I hadn’t given her the money yet. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a fifty and four dollars and handed it to her.
Her eyes grew large. “Oh, thank You, Jesus! Thank You. Now I can eat and won’t have to ask my family for nothing!” She raised her palms toward the ceiling and said a silent prayer. I wish my kids got that excited when I gave them their allowance.
“I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”
“Don’t worry about it. You just get down there and see your mother before they bury her.” We moved back into the living room. “Please call me if you need anything.”
“You’ve done more than enough. I won’t call unless I just have to.”
She handed me a disconnection notice from the electric company to write my number on. I knew what it was because I had one just like it at home. Mine was because I had been too lazy to log onto my account. Hers was because she didn’t have the money to pay it.
“Write your number big so I can see it.”
I wrote my name and phone number in big block letters and had her read it for me. She saw it just fine.
“Do you think you’re coming back?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m going to take all my clothes and see what happens when I get there. There’s nothing important here so I can just leave it.”
“You got all your medicines?”
“Yes.” She rose and moved to the kitchen. “Come see.” I followed her back into the kitchen and found six different bottles on the table. I glanced down at several that I knew my mama took. “You’re diabetic?”
She nodded, then moved to the refrigerator and showed me her insulin.
“My dog’s diabetic.”
She found that funny. I laughed with her, then moved back into the living room.
“You know, my mom is schizophrenic, so I understand. You remind me so much of her.”
“What’s her name?”
“Bernice Brown.”
Her eyes lit up. “I know her.”
“You do?” She’d only been here five months, so there was no way she knew my mother.
“Yeah, I know her.” She nodded. “I just saw her.”
My mind was racing and I wasn’t sure what to believe. After all, this woman was crazy. “When… when did you see my mother?”
“I just saw her a couple of weeks ago.”
My knees nearly buckled. My mother had been missing for years, yet this woman was sitting here telling me she’d seen her just weeks ago. “Where did you see her at?”
“At the center.”
“What center?”
“At Nyra Recreational Center. The van picks me up every Wednesday. We do crafts and have classes on taking control of our mental illnesses.”
My heart was pounding rapidly. I wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth or not.
“You look like her, except she has a bigger gap between her two front teeth.”
She did know my mother. Bernice was known for her wide, gappy smile.
“When... when was the last time you... uh... saw my mother?” I was so nervous I couldn’t even talk straight.
“Let me see. I think it was probably three weeks ago. Once a month we have a birthday bash at the community center in honor of everybody who has birthdays that month. And your mom was there because I remember her standing up and being recognized for her birthday.”
Oh, my goodness. I couldn’t breathe. It was June. My mama was born in May Just like Lisa. I tried my damndest not to get overly excited because all I would do was set myself up for disappointment.
“When does the center meet?”
“Every day, but I go on Wednesdays. We have crafts and they make us lunch and have other activities.”
I nodded, then rose. I desperately needed to be alone so that I could think. “Hattie, if you need anything else, please call me.”
“Thank you so much. I’m going to finish packing tonight and have Melody drop me off at seven o’clock. I’ll call you to let you know that I made it safely.”
“I’d like that.” I hugged her again, then headed out the door and climbed in my car.
I only lived around the block, but the drive felt like forever.
I was shaking so hard I don’t know how I managed to drive at all.
By the time I pulled into my driveway my teeth were chattering.
I couldn’t believe it. After all these years, I might have finally found my mother.
I went in the room, buried myself in a pillow and cried like a baby.