Homegoing(77)

She worked odd jobs, mostly cleaning, though every once in a while she would still go out for an audition. The auditions would all end the same way. She would get onstage, feeling confident. Her mouth would open, but no sound would come from it, and soon she would be crying, and begging the person in front of her for forgiveness. One auditioner told her she had better make her way to a church if forgiveness was what she wanted.

And so she did. Willie hadn’t been to church since leaving Pratt City, but now it seemed she couldn’t get enough of it. Every Sunday she would drag Carson, who had just turned five years old, out with her to the Baptist church on West 128th between Lenox and Seventh. It was there she met Eli.

He was only a once-in-a-while churchgoer, but the congregation still called him Brother Eli because they thought he had a fruit of the spirit in him. Which fruit, Willie didn’t know. She’d been going for about a month, sitting in the very last row with Carson on her lap even though he was too old to be a lap baby and his weight hurt her legs. Eli walked in with a bag of apples at his side. He leaned against the back door.

The preacher said, “The fire of God is fallen from Heaven, and hath burned up the sheep, and the servants, and consumed them; and I only am escaped alone to tell thee.”

“Amen,” Eli said.

Willie looked up at him, then returned her gaze to the preacher, who was saying, “And, behold, there came a great wind from the wilderness, and smote the four corners of the house, and it fell upon the young men, and they are dead; and I only am escaped alone to tell thee.”



“Bless God,” Eli said.

The bag crinkled, and Willie looked up to see Eli pulling out an apple. He winked at her as he took a bite, and she quickly snapped her head back as the preacher said, “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”

“Amen,” Willie murmured. Carson started to fuss, and she bounced him on her leg a bit, but that only made him squirm more. Eli gave him an apple, and he held it in his hands, opening his mouth very wide to take just a tiny bite.

“Thank you,” Willie said.

Eli tipped his head toward the door. “Take a walk with me,” he whispered. She ignored him, helping Carson hold the apple so that it would not drop to the floor.

“Take a walk with me,” Eli said, louder this time. An usher shushed him, and Willie worried that he would say it again, but louder, and so she got up from her seat and left with him.

Eli held Carson’s hand as they walked. In Harlem, Lenox Avenue was impossible to avoid. It was where all the dirty, ugly, righteous, and beautiful things were. The Jazzing was still there, and as they passed it, Willie shuddered.

“What’s wrong?” Eli asked.

“Just caught a chill is all,” Willie said.

It seemed to Willie that they had walked all of Harlem. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d walked so much, and she couldn’t believe that they had gone so far without Carson crying. As they walked, her son kept working on his apple, and he seemed so content that Willie wanted to hug Eli for giving her that little bit of peace.

“What do you do?” Willie asked Eli once they had finally found a place to sit.

“I’m a poet,” he said.

“You write anything good?” Willie asked.

Eli smiled at her and took the apple core Carson was dangling from his hands. “No, but I write a lot of bad.”

Willie laughed. “What’s your favorite poem?” she asked. He scooted a bit closer to her on the bench, and she felt her breath catch, something it had not done for a man since the day she first kissed Robert.



“The Bible’s the best poetry there is,” Eli said.

“Well, then why don’t I see you in church more often? Seems like you should be studyin’ the Bible.”

This time Eli laughed. “A poet’s got to spend more time livin’ than he does studyin’,” he said.

Willie found out that Eli did a lot of what he called “livin’.” In the beginning she called it that too. It was a rush, being with him. He took her all around New York City to places she never would have dreamed of going before him. He wanted to eat everything, try everything. He didn’t care that they didn’t have any money. When she got pregnant, his adventurous spirit only seemed to grow. It was the opposite of Robert. Carson’s birth had made him want to set roots, whereas Josephine’s birth made Eli want to grow wings.

The baby was barely out of her stomach before Eli flew. The first time, it was for three days.

He came home to her smelling of booze. “How’s my baby doin’,” he said. He wiggled his fingers in front of Josephine’s face, and she followed them with wide eyes.

“Where you been, Eli?” Willie said. She was trying not to sound angry, though anger was all she felt. She remembered how she had stayed quiet on the nights that Robert used to come home after being gone awhile, and she didn’t intend to make the same mistake twice.

“Aw, you mad at me, Willie?” Eli asked.

Carson tugged on his pants leg. “You got any apples, Eli?” he asked. He was starting to look like Robert, and Willie couldn’t stand it. She’d just cut his hair that morning, and it seemed the more hair he lost, the more Robert started to peek through. Carson had kicked and screamed and cried the whole time she cut. She’d spanked him for it, which had quieted him, but then he had given her a mean look, and she was not sure which was worse. Seemed like her son was starting to hate her as much as she was fighting not to hate him.