A Cautionary Tale Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4 

February 5th – 8th cont. 

The sound of the slap is sharp and loud. It startles everyone in the room, including me. The ringing in my ears and the stinging in my hand momentarily distract me and I'm a little confused as to why Dena has jumped in front of me and is pushing me backward. Morgan and LaNissa are also on their feet and wearing twin expressions of shock, and...., and fear. Audree has stopped shouting and so have I for that matter.  

"Danie!" Dena is right in my face. "Stop!"   

I shake her hands off me and scowl at the room in general, but Audree Murray in particular as I snatch my coat off the back of the chair and head for the door. What the hell just happened, I ask myself?  Who is she? When did the woman I have loved like a mother since I was nine years old become this insecure and out of control banshee? When did I? I'm pissed and on autopilot. I pound toward Indiana Ave, make a left, and pound toward Taney St., and make a left. I'm getting a little short of breath as I replay the events of just a few minutes ago. That went bad fast. How can she possibly think that's ok, it's not. She can't rewrite history, they were married. Isn't that what the obituary is about. The story of the life of the deceased, you don't get to change it to what you want it to be, what you wished it were. The facts are indisputable and not up for debate. At the end of Taney St. I make another left, not cooled off enough I stay on Cambria and keep walking. I pass 26th St, Bambrey, and Stillman and make another left on 25th .  I feel the need to feed the beast and as luck would have it I have a pack and a lighter in my coat pocket. By the time I make my final left back on to Bailey, the beast is subdued, and my anger somewhat abated. I walk back in and Dena is on her cell, Audree is upstairs, and the girls are sitting at the dining room table. 

"Mom, you ok?" Nissa asks concern lacing her voice. 

"Not really, but I'm better." I answer honestly. 

"Jimmy wants to talk to you." Dena is pushing her cell in my direction. 

"What's up?" I speak into the phone. 

He asks me what happened and I give him a condensed version. 

"No I didn't." I exclaim loud and indignantly. "I did not hit her, I slapped the table. Who told you I hit her?" I cut my eyes toward Dena 

"I did not tell him you hit her."  She defends. 

I redirect my attention back to the cell phone. "I slapped the table out of frustration. She was screaming and shouting in my face. I was trying to say to her, that she had the best of him. She, made a life with him. She, had his love, his trust and his devotion; and like Dena said we just want an accurate telling of his story." Jimmy starts back pedaling from his earlier position. Now he doesn't want any mention of our parents marriage. When just an hour earlier he agreed that saying a previous union was fair and accurate, and she'd just have to deal with it. He's going on about evidently Audree is going through something. No shit Sherlock, but guess what, she ain't the only one going through something, we're all grieving. But I've had it, this is ridiculous, and wrong. 

"Nissa go upstairs and get your stuff together." I say to my daughter. "I'm emailing you what I wrote, y'all know how I feel. I'm done with this." I inform Dena. 

I go to my old room, gather my shit, email the obituary to my sister, pack my car, and I'm out. Me and my daughter are going home, to York. Now is when we need Big Jim the most; there was no one better at diffusing this type of situation. 

February 13th  

I stand at the lectern. The drummers are beating the drums and I allow myself to sway to the rhythm, thinking 'Man, Daddy would have really liked the drummers'. Mr. Oyende sees me and says something about interpretive dance. I shake my head with a smile and mumble something into the mic. I'm thinking about the time Big Jim made a drum and I think it's still in the basement of his house. I hear a couple of people say, "We can't hear you Dan," and I realize, once again I am thinking out loud. Some guy reaches in and adjusts the microphone and I simply let memories of my dad run rampant through my mind, and I start talking. 

"Everyone has spoken so well of Elder Goodman. I can't tell you how comforting that is, but he wasn't Elder Goodman to me. To me, he was just Daddy. Many of you don't know that he could be silly, and fun, and that he loved to laugh. He had a mischievous side and would pull a good prank in a heartbeat. One of my favorite stories is when he was a young football player at Gratz. He and Mr. Ellison, my 11th grade Elementary Functions teacher, were playing in a game against Central. It must have rained before the game, and he and Mr. Ellison tried, for most of the second half, to tackle this one Central player into a huge mud puddle on the field." I look into the audience and see my brother nod his head and smile. I smile too, and continue. "Oh, I bet none of you know that Big Jim could break dance." I pause to let that sink in. And nod my head a few times. "Yup, back in the early '80's when breaking dancing was the thing, Lil Jimmy started break dancing. Well, Daddy thought this was thee goofiest thing he'd ever seen. So one day, standing in the middle of the living room floor, he starts break dancing. He's got the general moves down pretty good, but when he gets down on the floor on his side, his legs running propelling him in circles like Shemp from the Three Stooges..., me and Jimmy lose it. We are howling with laughter, crying we are laughing so hard." The mourners get the visual and start laughing as well. When the laughter dies down I talk about how involved in our lives he was. 

"My good friend Tricia from high school once remarked on how Daddy was always at my different activities. And he was, whether it was a track meet or some cheerleading event, he was there. Dena and I went to this very church as young kids, and whenever we were asked to participate in an activity we always said, 'we have to ask our dad'. Well evidently this was odd, and one day some adult asked us, why do you say you have to ask your dad, most kids say they have to ask their mom. 'Our dad is raising us,' we'd tell them. I didn't know that was anything special, it was just the way it was. Big Jim was the head of our household, and the leader of our family." I share. "And now I have to learn to live in the world knowing he's no longer just a phone call away." I'm shaking my head and can feel the tears brimming. 

Jeff says some wonderful things about his Uncle Jim. Dena rounds out the family, also sharing stories of how present and encouraging he was in our lives. LaNissa leans over just as Mr. Oyende is about to start the eulogy. 

"Mom, where is the bathroom?" 

"You can't hold it until the end of the eulogy?" I ask. 

"No," she stage whispers. "I've been holding it."  

It has been a long service I think to myself. "Ok, it's easier if I just show you." 

CJ has fallen asleep in her lap. She gently wakes him and we rise and move down the aisle headed to the bathrooms downstairs. As I go down the aisle I see my entire childhood seated in the pews. My heart swells. Vonn and Tucker, The Jamison girls, Miss Carlene and Arnelle, and on and on and on. Our neighborhood really showed up for Big Jim. Once downstairs I point Nissa in the direction of the Ladies Room, and I go into the Community Room where the repass will be held. There is a buffet line set up. Willetta, Diane, Annie, and a couple other trusted family members have turned Heavenly Grace's kitchen into our families kitchen, and the aromas are as mouth-watering as they are familiar.  

I turn and break into a huge grin. Mack has made his way downstairs and with him is my boy, Nate. I haven't seen him in forever. Literally, I can't remember the last time I clapped eyes on him. Nate introduced me to Mack. Nate and I lived on the same street, went to the same schools and he used to 'go with' one of my closest childhood friends, Vanita.   

"Wow, Nate. Oh my God. How long has it been? How are you?" We give each other a big hug. 

"I'm good, how ya been, girl?" 

"Good, good, good. I mean it's been crazy lately, but otherwise, I'm good."  I respond. 

"I was sorry to hear about your dad." He offers me his condolences. 

"Thank you, that's very kind of you."  

"Where did you move to?"  He asks. 

"York, Pa." 

"How did you end up there?" 

I laugh, " Running from my husband." I tell him truthfully. "My mother is from there, so I ran home to Mama."

"It's been, what, thirty years since I last saw you." Mack adds. 

"No it hasn't." I correct him. "The last time I laid eyes on you I was round and pregnant with Nissa. It was at the corner of 19th and Chestnut. You were in a squad car, I was waiting to cross the street. You pulled up pointed at my pregnant belly and said 'what in the world.' I said, 'I'm gonna have a baby,' the light turned green and you drove away. That was, 22 years ago, because LaNissa will be 22 next week." I make a funny face at him. "Then there was my apartment on 45th and Pine; I remember seeing you there a couple of times too."

Nissa comes up and I introduce her to my childhood friend. More people are coming down and I wonder if the eulogy is over. I really shouldn't have missed my father's eulogy. 

"I can't stay. The service has been really long." Nate tells me. I give him a 'yeah I know', kinda nod. "I gotta get back to work, but I wanted to make sure and say hi."  I give him a hug goodbye and tell him  how good it was to see him after all these years. 

Nissa is distracted, by Dena. Nate is saying hello to some of our other old neighbors and friends. Mack takes the opportunity for one last hug, and discreetly whispers in my ear, "I still find you sexy as hell." 

"Don't get yourself in trouble." I whisper back. 

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When we get back upstairs Mr. Oyende is finishing the eulogy. 

I ask Cyrus to be a pallbearer; I think Claude is going to be one as well. After the service everyone is milling around in front of the church. I'm very emotional and in no shape to make small talk so CJ, my nieces and I get right in the limo. There is a knock on the window and Arnelle motions for me to roll it down. I open the door and step out instead. 

"What you said about your dad was beautiful." She says, "I really liked what you said about not knowing your dad being so involved in your lives was anything special." I thank her and we talk for a few minutes. I hear someone say, "Ms. Goodman."  Looking to my left I see Mack standing by the big black SUV. I wave and get back in the limo. Once again he leads the procession of cars as we take Daddy to his eternal resting place. I'm so touched when he leads us back through our neighborhood, and up Bailey St. allowing Big Jim one last trip home. We get to the cemetary and he pulls off to the side as the limo and the rest of the cars proceed in. I look back and he is standing outside his vehicle waving, I blow a kiss, not sure if he sees or not. His presence and the kindness he's shown on this most difficult day has sealed his place in my heart. 

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