Read Online Somebody's Someone by Regina Louise - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Regina Louise
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the other with my hand until the water ran out, and then I wiped up the puddle I made. Realizing that most houses in the South had clotheslines in they backyards, I found Odetta’s and hung the clothes out on the line to dry. Then I got back in bed to wait for Odetta to wake up.
CHAPTER THREE
TALKING TO STRANGERS
“GOOD MORNING , Miss Lady.” Odetta smiled as she came back into the room after her night out on the couch. I didn’t notice b’fore, but her hair was sectioned and twisted on li’l torn pieces of brown paper bag. I recognized ’em right away; me and Sister had some of our own. They was used to roll hair on when you didn’t have money for the pink sponge rollers; and they was s’posed to be just as good; at least that’s what Big Mama told me when I asked for the pretty pink ones and she wanted to know how I was gonna pay for ’em.
“Hi.” I waved shyly to Odetta, not sure if she still felt the same ’bout me today that she had yesterday.
“Now that cha all cleant up with a good night’s sleep, can you tell me why them folks over yonder was aiming to beat the daylights out cha?”
“Um, I dunno,” I answered back as my shoulders lifted to help me out, all along knowing that I couldn’t even explain them folks to myself let alone her.
“I just think that Lula plain ole hates me, and that’s why she wants me dead. Ever since my mama left us kids out to south Austin, Lula’s been mad at her. And since Ruby, my mama, ain’t there to stand up for herself, Lula takes it out on me and sometimes, but not too much, my sister Doretha Ann.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right, ya sho’ do have a sister out there, ain’t cha. I wonder what that mama of yours Ruby was thankin’ when she left y’all kids out there with them there people? From what I hears she ain’t bit more kin to them than I am to the man on the moon. I guess she was just no more than a chile herself and didn’t know what else to do wit’ cha, huh? Plus yo’ mama sho’ was a fast one from what I hears. I ain’t seen her too many times, but I know she sho’ is pretty too. That’s what knocked my boy Glenn off his feet, was her prettiness. They met out at the high school, Ruby and yo’ daddy. I don’t think they known each other too long b’fore you come along. Seem like I met ya’ mama once or twice, and the next thing I known she ain’t coming round no more. But, that’s all right, ’cause you is here now.”
I didn’t know if Odetta was talking to me or herself. Seem like some of her words should’ve been meant for grown folks’ ears and not mine. At Big Mama’s I always eavesdropped to find out this stuff Odetta was telling on folks.
“Miss Odetta?”
“Yeah, what, baby?”
“What name should I call you by?”
“Well you can call me ‘Mama,’ or you can call me whatever sounds good, but whatever you do, call me somethin’ nice.”
I hated it when grown folks tried to be funny. I know she was telling me not to use dirty words when calling her attention, like “hey dog-face” or “yella-belly sap-sucker.” She didn’t have to worry; I knew better than to say anything bad ’bout a grown-up to their face. Since Odetta was actually bigger than Johnnie Jean, I thought she was a better fit for the name Big Mama. So I gave her the name Big Mama Fontaine. Anyway it was easier than saying just plain ole “Mama” and I was hoping to save that word in case I was to ever get one of my own.
I watched as Odetta laughed herself right into a li’l coughing spell. After nearly choking herself to death, she opened up a drawer in her bedside table and took out a ho-hound drop.
“You want one, sugar?”
“Yeah.” I took it and folded it in my hand. Ho-hound was one of Big Mama’s favorite hard candies; she used ’em just like Odetta—when she coughed. As my eyes wandered round the place, I seen a picture on the headboard of Odetta’s bed which I hadn’t given much mind to the night before. It was a man
CHAPTER THREE
TALKING TO STRANGERS
“GOOD MORNING , Miss Lady.” Odetta smiled as she came back into the room after her night out on the couch. I didn’t notice b’fore, but her hair was sectioned and twisted on li’l torn pieces of brown paper bag. I recognized ’em right away; me and Sister had some of our own. They was used to roll hair on when you didn’t have money for the pink sponge rollers; and they was s’posed to be just as good; at least that’s what Big Mama told me when I asked for the pretty pink ones and she wanted to know how I was gonna pay for ’em.
“Hi.” I waved shyly to Odetta, not sure if she still felt the same ’bout me today that she had yesterday.
“Now that cha all cleant up with a good night’s sleep, can you tell me why them folks over yonder was aiming to beat the daylights out cha?”
“Um, I dunno,” I answered back as my shoulders lifted to help me out, all along knowing that I couldn’t even explain them folks to myself let alone her.
“I just think that Lula plain ole hates me, and that’s why she wants me dead. Ever since my mama left us kids out to south Austin, Lula’s been mad at her. And since Ruby, my mama, ain’t there to stand up for herself, Lula takes it out on me and sometimes, but not too much, my sister Doretha Ann.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right, ya sho’ do have a sister out there, ain’t cha. I wonder what that mama of yours Ruby was thankin’ when she left y’all kids out there with them there people? From what I hears she ain’t bit more kin to them than I am to the man on the moon. I guess she was just no more than a chile herself and didn’t know what else to do wit’ cha, huh? Plus yo’ mama sho’ was a fast one from what I hears. I ain’t seen her too many times, but I know she sho’ is pretty too. That’s what knocked my boy Glenn off his feet, was her prettiness. They met out at the high school, Ruby and yo’ daddy. I don’t think they known each other too long b’fore you come along. Seem like I met ya’ mama once or twice, and the next thing I known she ain’t coming round no more. But, that’s all right, ’cause you is here now.”
I didn’t know if Odetta was talking to me or herself. Seem like some of her words should’ve been meant for grown folks’ ears and not mine. At Big Mama’s I always eavesdropped to find out this stuff Odetta was telling on folks.
“Miss Odetta?”
“Yeah, what, baby?”
“What name should I call you by?”
“Well you can call me ‘Mama,’ or you can call me whatever sounds good, but whatever you do, call me somethin’ nice.”
I hated it when grown folks tried to be funny. I know she was telling me not to use dirty words when calling her attention, like “hey dog-face” or “yella-belly sap-sucker.” She didn’t have to worry; I knew better than to say anything bad ’bout a grown-up to their face. Since Odetta was actually bigger than Johnnie Jean, I thought she was a better fit for the name Big Mama. So I gave her the name Big Mama Fontaine. Anyway it was easier than saying just plain ole “Mama” and I was hoping to save that word in case I was to ever get one of my own.
I watched as Odetta laughed herself right into a li’l coughing spell. After nearly choking herself to death, she opened up a drawer in her bedside table and took out a ho-hound drop.
“You want one, sugar?”
“Yeah.” I took it and folded it in my hand. Ho-hound was one of Big Mama’s favorite hard candies; she used ’em just like Odetta—when she coughed. As my eyes wandered round the place, I seen a picture on the headboard of Odetta’s bed which I hadn’t given much mind to the night before. It was a man
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