Passing through Perfect (Wyattsville #3)(65)

“Not right now maybe, but just you wait! Once they get a foothold in the neighborhood, the next step up is marrying a white girl.”

“Hogwash!” he said and walked off.





Although John knew Prudence Wentworth was a busybody who went about stirring up trouble where there was little or no cause, her last comment got stuck in his head. Elizabeth was a beautiful blue-eyed blonde, a gentle soul with a sweet disposition. The kind of girl any man would want. He’d always figured she’d marry well; a doctor or lawyer maybe. Now, according to Prudence, there was an ominous threat living just three doors down. That thought picked at his brain until late in the evening when he asked Mary Beth if she’d heard anything about such a rumor.

“You know Prudence,” she laughed. “She’s always looking for something to complain about.”

“Maybe so,” John answered, “but do you think there’s any truth to the rumor?”

Having already started up the stairs with a stack of folded sheets she’d brought in from the line, Mary Beth didn’t answer.

~

When the Klaussners sat down to supper on Sunday evening, Carmella thanked Benjamin for the work he’d done in the yard but never mentioned Prudence Wentworth’s telephone call. It was simply an unpleasantry better forgotten.

On Monday the Klaussner household went back to its normal routine: hot oatmeal with brown sugar and canned peaches was served for breakfast. Before the table was cleared everyone began wandering off to start their day. Sid and Benjamin were first to leave. They started for the store at seven-thirty; a short while later Paul headed for an accounting class, and Jubilee tromped out to wait for the school bus. She’d asked to take Isaac along, but the answer was no. Carmella knew she could do what she wanted in her own house, but the Virginia schools were segregated and there was no way of getting around it.

“How come I ain’t got school?” Isaac asked.

“You’ve got to be a permanent resident before you can register,” Carmella answered. It was a lie of convenience, because she knew there was no colored school in Wyattsville. The closest was two towns over and twenty miles away.

Isaac looked up. “What’s a permanent resid—”

“Someone who’s lived in the town for a long time,” Carmella said lightly.

“How long?” he asked hopefully.

Carmella squatted down and looked into the boy’s face. How could she possibly tell an innocent child the truth?

“I don’t know exactly how long,” she said, “but for now you can study your lessons right here at home.” She pulled Isaac to her bosom and held him there for almost a minute. When she finally let go, she began telling him how at one time she’d been a teacher.

“Of course, that was a long time ago,” she said. “Before Sidney and I started thinking about having a family.”

They sat at the kitchen table, and Carmella handed Isaac a notepad and pencil. “Let’s start with spelling.”

In the Grinder’s Corner School there was never a time when a teacher gave a student such one-on-one attention, and Isaac wallowed in the specialness of it.

“When you didn’t be a teacher no more, was that ’cause Mister Paul got born?” he asked.

“No,” Carmella laughed. “Paul and Jubilee came to live with us two years ago”

“They ain’t your real babies?”

“I’m not their birth mother,” Carmella said, “but they’re my babies. God gave them to me as a present.”

“You figuring God’s gonna give you any more babies?” Isaac asked.

Carmella chuckled. “You ask way too many questions. Now stop stalling and let’s get to that spelling.”

~

By mid-morning Benjamin had already swept the store and the sidewalk in front of it. He’d also restocked the shelves, cleaned the front window, and polished the brass handle on the front door.

“There’s not much else to do right now,” Sidney said. “Take a break; grab a cup of coffee if you want.”

As far as Benjamin was concerned, unless a river of sweat was rolling down your back and your legs were too weary to be walking taking a break was the same as sitting idle.

“How about I clean up that other refrigerator instead,” he suggested.

“Don’t bother,” Sidney replied. “It’s broken. I think the motor’s gone.”

Benjamin’s face lit up. “Might be I can fix it.”

Sidney gave a pessimistic shrug. “Try if you want, but I think it’s shot.”

Once Benjamin disappeared into the back storeroom, Sidney went on about the business of waiting on customers. Other than a bit of banging around back there, he didn’t hear from Benjamin again until almost three-thirty.

When he finally came from the back of the store, Benjamin’s overalls were spotted with oil and a large clump of gray dust clung to the side pocket. Beaming with pride, he said, “I got her going.”

Sid looked up with astonishment. “You fixed the refrigerator?”

Keeping that same prideful grin, Benjamin nodded.

“Well, if that’s don’t beat all,” Sid laughed. “I figured that thing was ready for the junkyard.”

Still proud of his achievement, Benjamin went step by step explaining how he’d gone about fixing it, and although Sid listened he didn’t understand most of what was said. When Benjamin finished, Sid said an achievement such as that called for an ice cold Coca-Cola. He pulled two from the refrigerator case, opened the bottles, and handed one to Benjamin.