Sacrifices of the Soul – Chapter Seven
 

Theresa is fixing some oatmeal when Miguel comes into the kitchen.

" Hey Theresa."

" Hi Miguel. Do you want some oatmeal. It’s one of Chad’s favorites."

" Oh, so we’re now into Chad’s favorites?" , Miguel says teasingly.

Theresa blushes, and Miguel tells her, " Hey. You know I was only kidding. I know that you and Chad are just friends. A lot like me and Kay. He’s becoming someone that you can depend on, isn’t he?"

" Miguel, I don’t know how I would have gotten through these past months. From the time Ethan married Gwen, and my lies and the blowup with Luis…he was my rock."

" I know. He’s been there for all of us, and I’m glad he’s staying here. I like having him around."

For the first time, Theresa notices how Miguel is dressed. " Um, Miguel, why are you dressed like…well, Chad?"

" He didn’t tell you? He helped get me on the construction crew for the Summer."

" Construction? Aren’t you young? Isn’t it dangerous?"

" They  don’t have me doing any of the tricky stuff, and no, I’m not too young. It’s honest work. I can work on my tan, and make SO much money, Theresa. What I’m making at the construction site in  one month, is more than I would make in three, doing the regular kind of teen jobs during the summer. I can earn a lot of money, plus, the hours that I work are good too. By being willing to go for the early shift, I can get off, and have the rest of the time for myself."

" You mean for Charity."

Now it was Miguel’s turn to blush. " Yeah. I’m gonna spend all my time with Charity. This job will help me get things for her. I love her so much, and I just want to show her."

" Miguel, any girl who was with you, would know that YOU were the prize..not anything you could buy for her."

" Oh, Charity knows that. But, I just want to do things to make her happy."

Chad walks into the kitchen.

" Morning Theresa. Miguel. You ready to begin work?"

" Yep."

Chad sits down and begins on the oatmeal. " Brown Sugar AND Raisins here? What did I do to deserve such luxury treatment?"

Theresa hit Chad on the shoulder. " Luxury? It’s oatmeal, Chad. Not hard to fix. It’s not like it’s caviar or anything."

Chad makes a face. " Fish eggs? No thank you. Gimme my plain, simple oatmeal. It fills you up…not makes me sick."

Theresa grinned. " Oh, you can be such a dope sometimes. Just eat it, and go. "

Miguel finishes his bowl and puts it in the sink. " I’m going to go and get my suncreen."

When he leaves, Theresa goes over to Chad and asks, " Are you sure that Miguel is right for the job, Chad? I know that construction is tough, and.."

" Theresa, don’t worry. He’s not doing any of the really difficult stuff, and all Miguel will get from this summer gig is three things: 1. A tan. 2. Plenty of money for the college fund and the Charity fund, and 3. He’ll be working his muscles in all the right places, so he’ll be more buff for the girls. From a guy’s point of view, this job is a total winner. No down side."

" Ok. I know you’ll look out for Miguel."

" I’m glad you know it." Chad looks at his watch. " Well, we gotta be going. Check you later." Chad leaves the kitchen and once he hits the living room yells, " Yo, Miguel. We gotta go."

Theresa goes over to the counter where she had a pile of papers there. It was information from Harmony University on possible classes that she downloaded from the ‘net the night before. She began to read them in earnest.
 

" Well Eve, how are you doing this morning?", Kevin Collins asks, as he had done every morning for the previous four months. He had rarely encountered a patient like this. He had pulled every shrink’s ‘trick’ that he knew in order to bring her out of it, but, in four months, all he had was a very thin file and notes that said the same thing: patient unresponsive. Nothing more came from Eve’s mouth. So, he continued…

" Today was a particularly beautiful sunrise. Did you get to see it?" Nothing from Eve.
" I was wondering if you’d like to talk about your childhood this morning. There’s not much about it in the files, and I was wondering what life was like for you?"

"What life was like?", Eve thought in her mind. " How about just this side of hell, you Bozo." Eve thought that all this talking that he wanted her to do was a complete waste of time. What was done, was done. No matter what she did, she still wound up in the same place….as broken down as her mother, with a better view.

" I was wondering what a typical day was like for you, growing up.", Dr. Collins asked.

" TYPICAL? What a joke", Eve thought. Well, since the man wants to trip the light fantastic down memory lane, she would oblige. She inhaled the fresh air, because the windows in his office were always opened, unless it was raining. The smell of fresh cut grass. The smell of fresh air. Nearly the antithesis of where Eve grew up.

Flashback

Little Clarissa Morton woke up that morning because of the awful fight that she heard outside her window. The smell from the garbage cans was awful, and the bugs that routinely climbed into her room were disgusting,but, without the little breeze that came through, her little room would literally be a sauna. She saw everything through the bars on the tiny window.

" Bitch! I told you that you weren’t to come back without having my money."

" I had a slow night."

" Slow night, THIS!", the man said, as he began to punch her in the stomach.  Eve watches as the man beats the woman mercilessly. She tries to fight him at first, but, then cowers in the corner and accepts his fists, believing that if he gets it out of his system, he’ll go away. When he is finished, he tells her, " Clean your fucking self up, and get back to my place by Noon. If you’re not there, your ass better be on the way out of town. " He looks to see Clarissa staring at him, and she slowly pulls the shade down. He knows she won’t be a problem and walks away.

Clarissa goes to where her mother keeps the Witch Hazel, and gets it. She puts it on the kitchen table, and is at the door when Stella knocks.

" Well, Clairee, is your Mama home?"

" Yes, Miz Stella."

By this time Clarissa’s mother has staggered out of her bedroom, " Stella, what the fuck happened to you?"

" Guess."

" Ooh shit. Leroy caught you without his money."

" Yeah."

" Girl, I told you that you had to lay off the shit for a bit. That he wasn’t gonna continue just beatin’ your ass where nobody could see." She went over to her face and turned it from side to side. " When he’s willing to damage the face, his ass is PISSED OFF! I’m just glad you didn’t tell him that you were here last night, and we were enjoying his money. "

" I know. Shut up and help me."

" Clairee, get the Witch Hazel and a towel."

" I already did, Mama."

" You sho’ did. Well, go on. Get out. You got school, or somethin?"

" It’s Sunday."

" I don’t give a crap what day it is, I said get the fuck out!"

" But, I didn’t get anything to eat."

Her mother raises her arm as to slap her. " Do I have to tell you again?"

Clarissa is backing out kitchen to the door. " No, Mama.", and in an instant, she’s gone. She walks up the stairs from the basement apartment, and out onto the street. She didn’t get to see what time it was. So, she heads down to the corner store, which isn’t open, but, peers through the window to see their clock. It was 10 minutes to 9. If she hurried, she could make it to the bakery 10 blocks over, across the tracks, in the poor white section of town. Leonardo’s always threw away the test bunch of pastries a little bit before 9 a.m., as the patrons on their way home from the first mass would be coming by to purchase their Sunday goods. Though Blacks didn’t usually go to that part of town alone, and knew better than to ‘cross the tracks’, it was Sunday, Clarissa was a girl, and a light-skinned Black, who didn’t even look as dark as some of the Sicilians that she had seen. It had been by accident that she wound up here..she had been lost about a year ago, wandering trying to find her new home, hungry, when she saw the owner throwing out the old pastries.

She got over to the bakery, and opened up the trash can. Sure enough, they were there. She took out the biggest bag, and began to eat them when she was closer to getting back to the Black side of town. She made her way to her best friend Simone’s apartment building. Simone’s mom was a maid for a rich White family, and her only day off was Saturday, so, she was gone by now, to prepare lunch, which on Sunday, for some reason, her mother said, was called ‘brunch’. Clarissa knocked on the door, and Simone opened it.

" Hi."

Clarissa showed her the bag of goodies.

" I’ll get us some milk."

Clarissa took the bag and went to Simone’s room that she shared with her little brother. She went to the old tattered blanket that she and Simone used when they sat on the fireescape together. She laid it out, and sat down, and soon after, Simone was there with the milk. They both began to eat the pastries.

" I…ummm…can’t believe…ummmm…that they threw these away.", Simone said while chewing.

" I know."

" Your Mama have company?"

" Yeah. Miz Stella."

" I was taking out the garbage when I heard Petey and Old Miss talking. She wasn’t giving him his money."

" I know. He beat her face today."

" Oooh. She made him really mad."

" Yep."

" Why didn’t you come by yesterday?"

" Um… I was busy." Clarissa usually told Simone everything, but, how can you tell your best friend that you spent the day helping your mother shoplift?

Simone knew her well enough to leave it alone. " Hey, guess what I got?" She went into her bedroom and came back with an envelope. " My Daddy sent me a birthday card. He remembered!"

" Simone, your birthday isn’t for another month."

" So. At least I GOT a Daddy."

With that, Clarissa’s eyes darted towards the street. What could she say to that? Nothing. Simone may only get a card around her birthday, and one at Christmas, usually with a toy, but, Clarissa had never gotten that. She had no idea who her father was, and the couple of times that she had brought it up to her mother, the answer always came in the response of some kind of physical violence…so, she never brought up the subject again. Her mother didn’t hit her often, so, she learned what not to do to ever be hit. Though, there were sometimes, when her mother was high, that it didn’t matter what she did. So, she learned to create hiding places even in their tiny apartment, that she could easily escape to when necessary.

Simone knew that she had hurt Clarissa, and came over to her, waving an éclair in front of her face.

" Come on, Clairee, you know you love ‘em. You know I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry."

Clarissa took the éclair and began to eat it. They sat in silence, and did their own personal Sunday ritual. They would sit for the Sunday Parade, as they called it. The parade of the men, women, children, you would always get dressed up in their ‘Sunday Finest’, and be on their way to church. Everyone looked so new. So shiny. So clean. Clarissa wished that she had a dress like the little girls, and she wondered where they got such shiny shoes from, because none of her shoes were that shiny. Simone had a fancy dress. It was one of the things that her father sent her for Christmas with the present every year. Since they had known one another, Simone would put on a fashion show and she would let Clarissa try on the dress too. Clarissa felt like a Princess in those books that she would read at the library, and always promised herself that she would get one of those dresses one day.

Clarissa had been friends with Simone as long as she had been in school. Her mother didn’t see the sense of Clarissa being in school when she was young, because she could ‘help her at home’, so when Clarissa went to school, they skipped kindergarten for her and put her directly into first grade. She had been there for a few months, when Simone came one day. Though Clarissa gave off a ‘tough’ air and kids didn’t mess with her, Simone gave off a weaker aura. Her light skin, and ‘fair’ features, coupled with long, beautiful hair, made her an instant target. Clarissa came upon a bunch of bullies with a pair of scissors about to cut her ponytails, and jumped into the fight, helping Simone along. Knowing that she wasn’t alone, gave Simone the courage to fight, and, they defeated the bullies, and had been fast friends ever since. Now, they were about to enter the third grade together.

It would never fail….the tail end of the Sunday fashion show would coincide with the beginning of the playing of the music. The  beginning record today was Duke Ellington’s ‘Take the ‘A’ Train.’ Mrs. Ofield was the resident ‘eccentric’ of the neighborhood. She never really left her apartment, and played her phonograph from morning until late night. Her groceries were delivered. In fact, Simone and Clarissa had, on a dash of bravado, and needing money, went to her, offering to do her shopping for her…for a fee. So, every week, the both of them would go to the store and buy off of her list. The owner of the grocery store, would go to her house, at the beginning of every month, and get the money for the month. For delivering her groceries, each of them was paid twenty-five cents a week.

Clarissa remembered the first time that she went into the apartment. What struck her was the size. Because it was built on the corner of the apartment building, for some reason, Mrs. Ofield’s apartment was nearly twice the size of everyone else’s in the building. The living room was large, twice as big. The largest room in the entire building. On the walls were pictures of glamorous looking ‘Negroes’. In the corner was the phonograph, and she had floor to ceiling bookshelfs custom-built, and they covered the entire wall. They were filled with both records and then albums. So many, Clarissa stopped counting when she got to 200 albums. She didn’t mind going to Mrs. Ofield’s apartment, because, if she was ‘all there’, Clarissa usually got a meal out of it, and some interesting stories. Though, when wasn’t ‘all there’, she would ramble for a long time, about nothing, and do bizarre things, like put her cat in the icebox.

Sundays with Simone were the best. When it was nice outside, they could sit on the fireescape and just observe the people. They would talk about the future:

" When I grow up, I’m going to be rich and famous."

" Doing what, Simone?"

" An actress, like Dorothy Dandridge, but, I’m going to get my picture in Jet and Ebony . Everybody’s going to see my house."

" When I grow up, I’m going to be rich, famous, and my kids will have a Daddy. He’ll live with us, too. There will be lots of presents underneath the Christmas Tree. And, no roaches."

" Definitely, no roaches.", Simone says and they begin to laugh. They continue talking until Simone hears her little brother crying. Simone and Clarissa go inside. They make sure that he takes his Sunday bath, and then gets some breakfast. Soon, he’s ready, and they all go down to the sidewalk, where they each get involved in their games: him ball, while the girls jump rope, play hopskotch, and various games of tag. The Sunday passes, and it finally gets dark, and Simone, Clarissa, and her brother go inside. They make sure that her brother takes another bath, and changes into his pajamas. Clarissa plays with Simone’s little brother while Simone takes her bath, and usually by the time Simone is dressed for bed, her mother is finally back from work, with the one bonus of working Sundays: Brunch leftovers. For Clarissa, it’s the best meal of the week, as Simone’s mother always invites her to stay. Everyone gets stuffed with the leftover food, and finally, Clarissa is on her way back to her apartment. When she gets there, the door is open a crack. She walks in to find her mother passed out at the kitchen table, clutching loosely an emptied bottle of gin. She takes the bottle away, and rinses it out, and puts it on the side of the sink. She locks the door shut, and sees if she can move the chair, so that if her mother vomits, she won’t swallow it. She goes into her room, seeing her ‘friends’ scatter, once the light is turned on. She checks the bed to see if her ‘friends’ are there, and once that’s done, she uses the rudimentary pest control product that is sold at the cornerstore, so that she can possibly have a somewhat uninterrupted sleep. She puts Vicks Salve underneath her nose, to  deaden her nose to the stench from the garbage cans outside of her open window. Usually, she only has to get up once in the night, to put the salve on again, and she can make it through the night. She closes her eyes, and dreams of a place with ‘no roaches’, and where she is happy.
 

End of Flashback

" So Eve, did I jog your memory any? Anything that you would like to share?", Dr. Collins asked, bringing Eve out of her trip down memory lane. Eve said nothing. Only checking his clock on the table, counting the minutes to when this farce would soon be over. She saw nothing positive or sane in talking about the past. What’s done is done. Can’t change it. Lived through it, and no amount of talking will change it.
 

Patient continues to be unresponsive and uncommunicative. Though, when asked questions, patient seems to be comprehending my questions, and her brain appears to be engaged. But, no communication. Dr. Kevin Collins writes in his latest entry in Eve Russell’s file.