Midnight Without a Moon(25)

While I had been outside giving city Ophelia an education on country living, someone had been out to Aunt Belle’s car and returned with two large shopping bags.

“Since your birthday is coming up,” Aunt Belle said to Queen, “and you’re turning sixteen, I thought pantsuits would be perfect for you. Especially with the way you’ve filled out.”

Pantsuits! Aunt Belle brought us pantsuits! Just like the fancy one Ophelia was wearing.

When Aunt Belle began pulling the bright-colored outfits out of the bag, Queen squealed. “I’ll be the only girl in school with pantsuits from the city,” she said, beaming.

“Probably the only girl in pantsuits at all,” Aunt Belle added.

Papa cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. But Ma Pearl threw up her hands and cried, “Lawd, if that NAACP mess don’t git y’all sent straight to hell, wearin’ them pantses sho’ will.”

Aunt Belle handed the two bags to Queen. “Here. I don’t need to pull them all out in front of everybody. Take these on to the back and try ’em on.”

When she handed the bags to and directed her statement at Queen, and Queen only, my heart stopped beating for a few seconds, then started back up again. Seeing all the fashionable pantsuits she had brought for Queen, I thought it was only right to ask her if she brought me anything. Maybe someone had neglected to bring them from the car.

“Did you bring me anything?” I asked.

Aunt Belle’s head jerked up, and she eyed me strangely. Then she looked at Ma Pearl. Then back at me. “Rose Lee, honey, Mama said you wouldn’t be needing any school clothes.” She looked at Ma Pearl again, her mouth slightly open.

Ma Pearl nodded. “That’s right. She ain’t going back to school.”

My chest tightened as “What?” slipped quietly from my lips.

“You heard me,” Ma Pearl said. “You won’t be going to no school. You finished seventh grade. That’s more’n you need already.”

“Ma Pearl—”

“What you need mo’ schooling for?” She narrowed her eyes. “You strong. You can work with yo’ hands. And Papa go’n need you to pick cotton anyway, with Albert ’n’em gone.”

My heart pounding, I turned to Papa. “Can’t you get somebody else to help with the cotton? What about Slow John?”

Ma Pearl’s eyes bucked. “That fool? He ain’t go’n work for nobody.”

Monty, with an expression just as perplexed as mine, chimed in. “This child’s absence from school is only until the cotton has been picked, correct?”

If looks really had the ability to kill, Monty would have died instantly with the way Ma Pearl stared at him. “This ain’t yo’ bizness,” she said. “This between me and mines. If I say she got all the school’n she need, then she got all the school’n she need. Seventh grade. That’s way mor’n I ever got. When she finish the pick’n, she can help me out round the house.”

Tears stung my eyes. And a pressure filled my head so quickly that it felt as if it could explode. Plenty of folks who worked in the fields kept their children out of school until the harvest was over, but Ma Pearl was talking foolishness if she expected me to quit school altogether. I had no choice but to speak up. “Miss Johnson said I was one of the smartest students at the school,” I said, my voice shaking. “She said I could even go all the way to college if I wanted to. I can’t quit school. That would be a waste.”

Ma Pearl grunted. “Waste?” she said, her brows raised. “What’s a waste is a strong gal like you goin’ to school ’stead o’ work’n like you should be. You thirteen. Too old for school.” She sniffed and added, “Besides, what that lil’ foolish teacher know? College ain’t free. So how a po’ Negro like you s’posed to go?”

My eyes met Papa’s. “Can’t you find somebody else to help pick the cotton?” I pleaded.

“I said you ain’t goin’ back. Cotton or no cotton,” Ma Pearl interjected. “I need you here at this house takin’ some o’ the load off me ’stead o’ runnin’ up there to that school gittin’ too smart for yo’ own good.”

Monty gestured toward Fred Lee and Queen. “What about these two?”

Ma Pearl’s nostrils flared. “Don’t try to tell me how to raise my grandchi’ren.”

“Papa,” I pleaded again, my voice cracking.

“We’ll talk about this later, Rose Lee,” he said quietly.

I was so lost in my misery, I hadn’t concerned myself with what Aunt Belle’s friends might have been thinking until they began to shift nervously on the sofa. When I saw how they stared at me with pity, my tears crested and flooded down my cheeks. Ma Pearl had not only crushed my spirit. She had also totally humiliated me in the presence of the sophisticated Saint Louis spectators.





Chapter Twelve


WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 24


WHILE REVEREND JENKINS READ FROM THE BOOK OF ISAIAH, I removed a scrap of paper from my Bible, took a pencil from behind my ear, and scribbled a note to Hallelujah: “Ma Pearl said I can’t go back to school.”

Shock raced across Hallelujah’s face. What? he mouthed. He removed a pen from his shirt pocket and scribbled on my note. He handed it back to me.