Mama Ruby Page 2

  “He don’t know that!” Beulah shot back. “And if you ever tell on me, I am goin’ to whup you.”

  “But you told me yourself that a girl bleeds only the first time she’s with a man.”

  A pensive look formed on Beulah’s face. A few seconds later, she gave Ruby a serious look. “Listen, a girl can bleed as many times as she wants to, if she knows her business. Them whore women I babysit for sometime, they tell me stuff.”

  “They told you how to bleed even after you ain’t a virgin no more?”

  “Men are so stupid! Like that nitwit I’m fixin’ to marry next month. He thinks I’m a virgin, and he told me that he wouldn’t marry me if I wasn’t. Hmmph. I bet there ain’t a man alive over twelve that’s still a virgin. Them dogs! They got some nerve expectin’ so much from us. But do you know what? If virgin pussy is what they want, that’s what some of us will give ’em.”

  “What is this trick them whore ladies told you about?” Ruby was curious and she had every reason to be. She had already decided that when it involved sex, she wanted to know as many tricks in the book as possible.

  “You know them big capsules that Mama gives us when we have cramps? Them red and green things that look like they could choke a mule?”

  Ruby nodded. “Yeah. I had to take one last month.” Ruby grimaced. “I’m glad to hear that them nasty tastin’ things is good for somethin’ else.”

  “You open up the capsule and dump out whatever that stuff is they put in it. You drop some chicken blood into one side of the capsule, and then you press the capsule back together. You have to make sure it’s screwed back together right, so the blood won’t leak out before it’s supposed to. Just before the man, uh, sticks his pecker in you, you slide the capsule up into your coochie. As soon as he hits it, it busts open, and the blood trickles out. But before you do all of that, you have to douche with some vinegar or alum to tighten yourself up the way a virgin is supposed to be,” Beulah explained. “I read in a magazine that the women in Europe have been doin’ this for years, and gettin’ away with it.”

  “That’s nasty!” Ruby hollered. “I hope I never have to fool no man into thinkin’ I’m a virgin.”

  “Let me tell you somethin’, girl. When you get involved with men, you will have to do all kinds of shit to keep them in line. Just like a dog. Men have to be fed, petted, and trained right. It’s our burden to keep ’em happy if we want to keep ’em. As long as we do what they tell us to do—or let them think we doin’ it, I should say—they won’t be much trouble.”

  “I already know that. But that don’t mean nothin’ to me. When I do get a man, I am goin’ to do what I want to do, not what he tells me to do,” Ruby vowed.

  Beulah gave Ruby an exasperated look, but she really wanted to slap some sense into her head. She couldn’t believe that she was related to a girl as naive as Ruby. “Girl, you got so much to learn about men. Don’t you know that the man is the head of the house?”

  Ruby nodded and gave her sister a mysterious look. “That’s what you think, but I know better. When I get involved with a boy, I am goin’ to be the one callin’ the shots. When I get married, my husband can be the head of the house all he wants. But I am goin’ to be the neck, and the neck is what controls every move the head makes... .”

  Beulah was flabbergasted. She was stunned to hear something so profound coming out of her baby sister’s mouth.

  “My word, Ruby Jean,” Beulah said, speaking in such a sharp tone of voice that it almost sounded like she was whistling under her breath. “You smarter than you look, girl. We ain’t got to worry much about you. It sounds like you already got everything under control.”

  Ruby was enjoying Beulah’s reaction to her neck comment. That was why she didn’t confess that she had overheard their mother saying almost the same thing to one of her female friends.

  True to her word, Ruby controlled every boy she got involved with. When she played stickball, or any other yard game on her block, she and her male playmates played by rules that she made up as she went along.

  “Ruby Jean, how come you don’t play with girls that much? You gettin’ too old to be shootin’ marbles and runnin’ up and down the street like a savage with them boys,” her mother mentioned one Saturday afternoon. Earlier that day, Ruby had shot marbles for several hours with a couple of boys from across the street.

  “I don’t like girls that much,” Ruby admitted. “They ain’t no fun. And they way too much trouble.”

  Beulah had married and moved out, so Ruby had a lot of free time on her hands now.

  “Well, you better rethink yourself, honey-child. There is plenty of little girls around here for you to socialize with. It don’t look good for my daughter to be spendin’ so much time with boys. People will start talkin’,” Reverend Upshaw told her.

  Girls bored and annoyed Ruby. All of the ones she knew only wanted to talk about school and church, making their own clothes, and baking pies. The only girl in the neighborhood who was even remotely interesting to Ruby was Othella Mae Cartier. But she was way off limits. Her mother, Simone, was a part-time prostitute with a seventh-grade education. Other than fucking and sucking, she had very few skills. Everybody who knew her knew that she had sold her body to hundreds of men in several New Orleans brothels. In addition to prostitution, she supported herself and her children by doing a variety of dull jobs for wealthy white women—housekeeping, ironing, and anything else that the women she worked for didn’t want to do.

  Ruby’s parents repeatedly ordered her to stay away from all of the fast girls. She received a sound whupping one day for walking down the street in front of half a dozen witnesses with a pregnant thirteen-year-old. This girl drank alcohol in public and bragged about the dozen or more boys that she’d already slept with. Since Ruby was not allowed to associate with girls like Simone’s daughter Othella—who was just as fast as that pregnant thirteen-year-old—she eventually tried to form relationships with other girls. Unfortunately, none of those relationships panned out. Those girls were dull and stupid. They didn’t even know half of what Ruby knew!

  So by the end of that year, behind her parents’ backs, Ruby started paying more attention to Othella.

  “I ain’t allowed to be seen with you in public, but if you want to, we can hang out together on the sly,” Ruby told Othella on the day that Othella invited her to her fourteenth birthday party.

  It didn’t seem fair to Ruby that Othella had more dolls and other toys than she had. And it didn’t seem fair to Ruby that Othella was so pretty. She decided that she could overlook Othella’s good looks, because she knew that it took more than good looks to get a boy’s attention these days. In spite of her feelings of jealously toward Othella, Ruby liked her and wanted to be her friend anyway.

  “That’s fine with me, Ruby Jean. I am used to hangin’ out with certain kids on the sly. But the real reason I wanted you to come to my party tomorrow night is because my brother Ike likes you,” Othella replied.

  That juicy piece of information caught Ruby completely off guard. Her eyes got big and her heart skipped a few beats. “Huh? Me?”

  Othella nodded. “Yeah. My brother likes you... .”

  “DAMN!” Of all the boys that Ruby knew, not a single one was as cute as Isaiah “Ike” Cartier. “He’s just about the best lookin’ boy in town!” Ruby didn’t realize she was licking her lips like a hungry dog until Othella snickered. Embarrassed, Ruby blinked and pressed her lips together for a few moments. “Uh ... he’s got all of them cute freckles on his face. And you say he likes me?”

  “I know he’s cute, he knows he’s cute, and so do all of the other girls around here. But he’s particular when it comes to girls. He’s always goin’ on and on about your titties.”

  Ruby laughed and stuck out her chest.

  “What’s so funny?” Othella wanted to know.

  “Every female has titties,” Ruby chuckled.

  “Yeah, that’s true. But unless she’s a big cow, every femal
e ain’t got no big healthy rack like you got. One of these days, I am goin’ to scrape up enough money and buy me a pair of them fake foam titties that I see all the time in them magazine ads.”

  There was a smug look on Ruby’s face, and that was why what she said next caught Othella by surprise. “Well, if I could give you half of mine, I would.”

  “And you would end up regrettin’ that. Men like big titties. One day you’ll be glad for what God gave you.”

  “I wish I looked more like you,” Ruby admitted, gazing at Othella like she was looking at a fancy new bicycle. “You are the kind of girl that colored men really go for. Teeny-weeny body, light skin.” Ruby paused and looked Othella up and down. “And all of that long pretty black hair. You look just like one of them white film stars with a tan.”

  “And lookin’ the way I do usually causes me a lot of problems. I swear to God, boys and men sniff after me like dogs in heat,” Othella complained, and then she gave Ruby a misty-eyed look and a tight smile. To Ruby, this was an indication that Othella enjoyed all of the male attention she attracted, but she kept that thought to herself. She knew how stuck on themselves pretty girls generally were. “Even my mama’s men friends and all of my brothers’ friends try to mess with me. If that ain’t bad enough, they try to pester all of my girlfriends, too. And a bunch of ’em been askin’ me about you, too.”

  Othella could be as vain and as stuck on herself as she wanted to be as far as Ruby was concerned. It didn’t matter. The fact that she was trying to help Ruby jump-start her love life made a huge impression on Ruby. That made up for the few things about Othella that Ruby didn’t like.

  “Oh? Is that so? Them other boys and your brother Ike? They been askin’ about me?”

  “Uh-huh. Especially my brother Ike. I ain’t never seen him grin the way he does when your name comes up. Ruby, you need to hurry up and get loose.”

  “Sure enough!” Ruby agreed, unable to stop grinning. She was ready to “get loose” and she knew that once she did, she’d be loose for a long time to come. “What time did you say your party was startin’ tomorrow night?”

  CHAPTER 3

  RUBY WAS AWESTRUCK THE FIRST TIME SHE ENTERED THE house that Othella lived in with her mother and six siblings. She had seen the outside on several occasions, but she’d never been inside until now. It was like walking into a carnival fun house. The furniture in the congested living room was loud and mismatched. There was a shabby plaid couch backed against the wall with one brick on top of another in the place of a missing leg. A lumpy yellow and black settee faced it. The settee had no legs at all. A bloodred upright piano sat against the wall by the door.

  “Y’all got a piano, too?” Ruby squealed. “Other than my uppity cousin Hattie in Baton Rouge, ain’t nobody in my family got a piano in the house.”

  “What about the church where your daddy preaches at? I hear piano music comin’ out of there every time I walk by,” Othella pointed out.

  “Yeah, there’s a piano in there, but it belongs to the church, so it ain’t the same as havin’ one in our livin’ room.” Ruby looked around, amazed by all of the pictures on the walls of dead presidents, and a couple of scowling philosophers that she didn’t recognize.

  “Some white lady that Mama did some ironin’ for gave this piano to her for payment last December. It was her Christmas present, too. My uncle Ernest hauled it here in his truck,” Othella revealed.

  “Hey, Simone,” Ruby greeted, offering one of her biggest smiles.

  Simone lay sprawled on the couch with a catalogue on her lap that was open to a page with an ad for girdles at the top and one for chewing tobacco at the bottom. She was just waking up from a drunken stupor.

  “Hey, Ruby Jean. A storm must have blowed you over here. Your daddy don’t want his kids hangin’ out with mine,” Simone said with a sneer.

  “Oh, I don’t worry about my daddy, bless his soul. What he don’t know won’t hurt him,” Ruby replied with a dismissive wave and a chuckle.

  Othella’s handsome brother Ike was seated on the other end of the couch with his mother. He winked at Ruby, and that made her heart skip a few beats. She felt the blood rise in her face, heating it like a steamed towel. She had to force herself not to giggle.

  “Hi, Ike,” Ruby muttered. “Uh, I like y’all’s house.”

  “Yeah,” Ike said. “A uptown girl like you must be used to nice things like we got.”

  “Uh-huh. I’m goin’ to have to come over here more often.” Now Ruby’s whole body felt hot, especially her crotch. She couldn’t take her eyes off Ike. Ike was so cute, with his soft, wavy black hair and big brown eyes. His skin tone was what they called high yellow, and he had slightly darker freckles in the center of his face that resembled the footprint of a small cat’s paw. He looked like the doll that Ruby’s aunt Lucy had given to her a few Christmases ago. Hadn’t she heard something about him having a pecker the size of a cucumber? Girls lied and exaggerated, but Ruby had already made up her mind to find out if what she’d heard about Ike was true. Whether it was true or not, she wanted him. And, according to Othella, he wanted her.

  “You do that, Ruby Jean,” Ike said with a sniff.

  “Sure enough. We like company,” Simone added with a nod. “We are a real sociable family, if ever there was one.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, because I really like your house, Simone,” Ruby said, putting more emphasis on her words than was necessary. “I ain’t never seen no red walls and red curtains, except at that circus that my mama took me to last year.” She gasped with glee when she noticed a guitar and a harmonica on the scarred coffee table.

  Bright green linoleum covered the floors in half of the six rooms in the house. Wood covered the other three. There was a deep well in Simone’s backyard, right next to a chicken coop that she regarded as one of her most prized possessions. The family ate chicken in some form almost every day of the week. Simone and her children shared the well with several neighbors. There was no indoor plumbing, so the whole family bathed in foot tubs or took bird baths in the kitchen sink. And since there was no indoor plumbing, they used portable toilets, better known as “slop jars,” when they didn’t want to go outside to use the outhouse.

  Simone always managed to keep a dependable jalopy in her driveway. As soon as one became inoperable, she acquired another one with a little help from her men friends.

  Almost every house in this section of Shreveport, which was an unincorporated district called Thelma City, had a backyard garden that contained everything from collard greens to tomatoes.

  As hard as it was to believe, Othella’s shabby gray house was on the same street as Ruby’s, just three blocks away. But compared to Othella’s “neck of the woods,” Ruby’s house and the other nice houses on her block looked like they were from another planet. Her family home was a large one-story, red-shingled house with a well-kept front lawn, indoor plumbing, four neatly appointed bedrooms, a large dining room, and a living room with impressive imitation leather couches.

  Ruby’s father always drove a shiny Packard, or a car equally impressive. He bought a new used vehicle every two or three years, not because he was a show-off, but because he had an image to maintain. He was the pastor of the Church of God in Christ, where the members of his large congregation spoke in tongues when the spirit moved them. And if the spirit moved them hard enough, they also twisted, shouted, fainted, and rolled around on the floor. And when it came time to offer a donation, most gave more than they could afford, but they didn’t mind. They wanted to make sure that they had a nice-looking church to worship in. And that they lined the preacher’s pockets so he wouldn’t be tempted to move on to another church like some preachers did. Reverend Upshaw was not hard up for financial aid, but he never refused any. He also worked for a cleanup crew at a turpentine mill on the outskirts of Shreveport. He was the only black employee at the factory. The foreman who had hired him had done so because he had heard that the preacher was an honest, hardworking man w
ho “knew his place” and didn’t give white folks any trouble. Reverend Upshaw was a big shot in the black community, but to his employer and coworkers, he was as meek and docile as a saint. He did everything he was told to do, with no resistance whatsoever. One of his responsibilities included a task that no white man in his right mind wanted to do: he maintained the four putrid outhouses behind the mill.

  Ruby’s mother baked pies for an upscale restaurant that catered to rich white folks. To enforce that, there was a huge sign in the front window that said: WHITES ONLY. Not that any black folks Ruby knew wanted to patronize a segregated establishment anyway. Ruby’s parents provided as lavish a lifestyle as black parents could at the time, so she didn’t want anything from white folks.

  Now that she had Othella as a friend, her life was almost complete. The only thing missing was a cute boyfriend with a nice big pecker between his legs.

  “You like ice cream, Ruby?” Ike asked, rising from the couch, hitching up his loose overalls with both hands. He was as glad as Ruby was that she had finally come to the house.

  “Uh-huh. You got some?” Ruby tried not to look too eager. But if Ike had placed a stick of butter in her mouth, it would have melted like ice on a bonfire.

  “I’ll walk you over to Spoons’ when you get ready to leave and we’ll share a scoop. Vanilla,” Ike told her with a gleam in his eye. He was still fiddling with his pants, and Ruby couldn’t decide if he patted his crotch for his benefit or hers. She pretended not to notice that bold gesture. She promptly returned her attention to Othella.

  After Othella showed Ruby her doll collection in the bedroom that she shared with her younger sisters, Ruby was ready to leave. One reason was because Othella was very touchy about her dolls and she recalled how Ruby used to chase her with sticks, trying to take them from her before they became friends. Now, each time Ruby picked one up, Othella snatched it out of her hand and returned it to its place. There were at least ten dolls, all with rosy cheeks, blue eyes and blond hair, in various sizes. They were all over the bed, on top of the oak dresser, and even in cardboard boxes on the floor. The three largest ones occupied the top of a chifforobe facing the bed.