Read Online Little Gale Gumbo by Erika Marks - Free Book Online

chewing his bread roughly. “All the women in my family are tiny little things. Like Josephine. Bergeron women got stomachs like birds.”
    Dahlia looked across the table at Charles. “That must be why Aunt Vivian is as big as an ostrich.”
    â€œDahlia,” Camille said, her eyes pleading, but Charles was already on his feet, moving to the other side of the table, where Dahlia sat calmly shoveling in spoonfuls of red beans.
    He slammed his palm next to her bowl, causing the whole table to shudder.
    â€œWhat’s that you just said, girl? I don’t hear so good all the way down there.”
    â€œCharles, please,” Camille said, rising nervously. “Leave her be.”
    â€œAnswer me, goddamn it.”
    Josie gripped her napkin in her lap, her stomach lurching.
    Dahlia lowered her spoon, refusing to look up at him. “I said, your sister Vivian is as big as an ostrich.”
    Without another word, Charles snatched the spoon from Dahlia’s hand and struck the side of her face with it, leaving a fat teardrop of red beans just below her left eye.
    â€œCharles!” Camille rushed from her seat, shoving her husband out of the way and moving to Dahlia, but Dahlia had already wiped herself clean.
    â€œJesus, it wasn’t nothin’ but a little tap, Camille. Girl’s gotta know better than to disrespect family like that.”
    Josie stared down at her bowl, too afraid to look up as her father walked behind her chair. Seated again, Charles reached out and touched her cheek. Josie flinched, startled, but he didn’t seem to notice.
    â€œNot you, though, Julep.” He smiled. “I ain’t never gotta worry about you.”
    That night, Josie crept from her room and into the kitchen, wincing as she opened the broiler door, so afraid to hear its usual creak. She reached in with trembling fingers and gasped, feeling the jagged shaft of a key.

Seven

    New Orleans, Louisiana
    Fall 1977
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    November arrived, breezy and mild. Camille had taken a job cutting hair at a beauty parlor while Charles had been serving a six-month sentence for drug possession. He called to announce his release the day before Thanksgiving, though he wouldn’t arrive until the next morning, just in time to make sure Camille had fixed his favorite holiday dish: roast turkey with oyster dressing.
    â€œI’m home!” he called out, blowing through the front door shortly before noon. “Where y’all at?”
    Camille summoned a pleasant smile when Charles swept by her, heading first to Josie to deliver a loud kiss to her forehead and a squeeze so hard that Josie swore he left the imprint of his shirt button in her cheek.
    â€œSmells good, Camille.” Camille nodded, wondering how he could smell anything over the stench of liquor on his own breath. His celebratory round at the Oyster Shell on the way home, no doubt. “Looks good too,” he murmured, stroking her bottom.
    Camille stepped aside to stir the gravy. “Glad you think so, Charles.”
    â€œLet’s speed this up,” he ordered, dragging a finger through the dish of sweet potatoes and sucking it clean. “I got a gig this afternoon at Lucky’s.”
    â€œOn Thanksgiving?” Camille asked.
    â€œWork’s work, baby.” Charles looked around. “Where’s your sister at, Julep?”
    â€œOutside,” Josie said. “In the back.”
    â€œWhat the hell she doin’ out there? Didn’t she hear me come in?”
    â€œI’m sure she didn’t,” Camille said, lifting the turkey out of the oven, knowing just how to distract him.
    Charles’s eyes grew big. “Damn, that is a good-lookin’ bird. Y’all get Dahlia in here while I go take a piss. Then we eat. I’m starved.”
    Camille nodded to Josie, who then walked to the back of the house, pushing open the screen door to