Chapter 1 #4
I hadn’t mounted but one step when some huge, slobbering dog came barreling at me from the side of that raised porch—its motions swift, but oddly awkward.
I knew better than to run, but that barking and snarling had me stumbling.
Next thing I knew I was falling backwards, unable to catch the porch railing, suitcase sprawling in the grass and popping open.
Landing on my back, curling into a ball and protecting my middle was my only thought.
Lying on the ground, that dog coming for me, I wrapped my arms about myself, deciding I’d let that creature chomp on me before ever letting him taste my belly.
That simple, curled up protectiveness caused an internal shift. Something creaked open within me. Possibility?
“Cato!” A woman’s voice shot out, unleashing a stream of words in a language I couldn’t interpret.
Clearly, Cato could. That dog paused his pursuit and walked around me, growling low in his chest—head at an odd angle—sniffing viciously.
Daring to peek at him, I saw one eye was sewn shut; the other socket was empty. That explained his awkwardness. My attacker was blind while I had the benefit of sight. Still, he had a predator’s advantage, and didn’t fully back away until called again.
One arm about my middle, I sat up, trembling and praying nothing was injured while staring at the woman atop the steps, Cato standing beside her, protectively.
Not sure what I expected after only hearing stories, but this Miss Celestine wasn’t it.
She wasn’t old and hag-looking, like she boiled bats’ wings, collected toad mucus, stared into crystal balls, or chopped up infants.
A little older than Mama, with skin the color of browned butter, she was pretty.
“I knew you were coming.” That was her greeting.
“Yes, ma’am.” That was politeness speaking. I hadn’t notified her so she couldn’t have been aware of anything.
“That White boy knows?”
Reaching for my fallen suitcase, that stopped me cold. I sat back on my heels staring at her like maybe she was crazy. “Ma’am?”
“Binding your belly yet?”
She had me off-balance, jumping from topic to topic. Shaking my head, I responded. “No, ma’am.”
“Just your breasts.”
I nodded, wondering if she saw through my thick sweater to the strips of cloth I’d snuck from Miz Stanton’s notions basket and wound about myself, trying to deal with achiness and swelling.
“You don’t have much time before your waistline vanishes.
So make up your mind about it.” She looked off into the encroaching night with a sigh.
“Guess you wouldn’t be out here ’cept you already decided.
” She refocused on me, eyes shining as if seeing my most hidden things.
“Everything you lay down here gets given back to God. I don’t keep nothing ’cept the pay.
Can’t take coins, only paper money. You got enough? ”
“I believe so.”
“Fine. Come on up.”
Looking at her beast of a hound, I hesitated.
“Cato don’t want you, gal. Stop sitting in the dirt and get on up here.”
Just like that I was back on the bus. Back in the overcrowded rows, holding my breath, watching Miz Rosa sit when she’d been told to stand.
Her “no” was enough.
What if she wasn’t just speaking for herself, but for the Colored citizens of Montgomery? For folks tired of feeling like life mirrored the conditions on that bus, demanding we pay full fare while being crushed, crammed, and secondary? What if she spoke for me?
I wasn’t trying to prove I was a woman, because I wasn’t. I wasn’t some nice, decent-looking Christian lady others could praise or admire for her bravery. Yet, what if I could do likewise and defy tradition and propriety?
“No…”
I shared a room. I made do with hand-me-downs. Didn’t I deserve my own something? That two-letter word had been enough for Miz Rosa. It had to be enough for me, and what I was carrying.
“You letting that purple-eyed White boy do you that way and still keep this baby?”
Her words had me quivering. Did she know Edward, with his jewel-toned eyes like Hollywood’s Elizabeth Taylor’s? Was she a seer?
“He didn’t take nothing.” My voice was quiet, shaky, but I meant every word. I gave Edward what I wanted him to have, but the look on Miss Celestine’s face told me she either didn’t see it that way or thought I was fibbing.
Suddenly, her opinion didn’t weigh as much as that matchstick from the bus reigniting itself back up somewhere near my heart. Its warmth didn’t mean I wasn’t scared. I was. So much so that I could barely push my fallen belongings back in my suitcase with my unsteady fingers.
“You didn’t need luggage just to head nowhere. You never even wanted to be out here.” Looking up, I found her staring hard at me. “It’ll be dark in a second. Best get yourself home. Cato…”
When she turned to scratch behind his ears before heading indoors, I saw it. I swear! A pollywog birthmark swimming towards her left ear.
It was visible in the twilight only because it was larger than the man’s on the bus and shades darker than her skin.
Before I could climb those stairs to confirm what I thought I saw, Miss Celestine was inside with the door closed. Between that pollywog and a hoot owl suddenly hooting too early in the evening, I took off running before leaving something precious out there that I suddenly needed.
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