Mama Ruby Page 25

  “Mama ... Ruby is your new name, you say?” Fat Fanny mouthed. She looked like a snowman dressed in a snug white floor-length negligee, her hair pinned back on her head. She raised an eyebrow and gave Ruby a curious look.

  Mazel rolled her eyes and gave Ruby an impatient look. She still had on the white uniform and white apron that she wore every day. As big as she was, her bosom was flat. Her breasts, even longer than Fat Fanny’s, had dropped from her chest and settled on her stomach like bibs.

  “Yep! I’m Mama Ruby from now on,” Ruby said with a mysterious smile on her face. She gently rocked the baby, thumping her cheek at the same time.

  “Hmmph! Why would a girl your age want to be called Mama anything?” Mazel asked. Even though Ruby was scaring her, Mazel’s tone of voice was as abrasive as ever.

  “Because that’s who I am now,” Ruby said firmly, shooting Mazel a hot look. Mazel felt another cold chill on her back. And the ominous feeling that had come over her a few moments ago seemed even more ominous.

  “Well, I must say, it is a cute nickname. How did you come up with it, sugar?” Fat Fanny smiled.

  Ruby shrugged. “Oh, it just came to me out of the blue, I guess,” she said with a tight smile.

  From that day on, Mama Ruby was the name that everybody called Ruby Jean Upshaw. And that was the name that she would be called until the day she died.

  CHAPTER 41

  MAZEL WAS IN THE PARLOR SERVING MAUREEN’S GUESTS. IT had been two hours since Ruby’s tryst with the nice one-eyed gentleman. She was glad that she was alone in the kitchen, until Maureen’s sudden appearance.

  “I thought you had put that child to bed for the night,” Maureen said, entering the room where Ruby sat at the table rocking baby Viola and chomping on some pork rinds.

  Ruby stopped chewing and swallowed hard. With a giggle she said, “I did. But I just love holdin’ her. I can’t wait to have my own baby.”

  “Well, I hope you will. But in the meantime, I just wanted you to know that you really came through for me tonight.”

  Ruby wiped crumbs from her lips and chin with the palm of her hand. “Thanks, Miss Mo’reen,” she fumbled, rising. The baby was sound asleep and had been for over an hour. But Ruby had become so attached to Viola that whenever she got a hold of her, it was hard to let her go.

  “Miss Mo’reen ... uh ... do you mind callin’ me Mama Ruby from now on?”

  Maureen gave Ruby a puzzled look. “Mama what?”

  “Mama Ruby. That’s what I want to be called now.” Ruby blinked and rolled her eyes.

  “Why?” Maureen folded her arms, but at least she didn’t look mad or annoyed. “Where is this comin’ from?”

  “It’s a real long story, Miss Mo’reen,” Ruby said with another giggle. “I’ll tell you all about it when you got some free time.”

  “All right. I’ll call you whatever you want me to call you, if it’ll make you happy. Who is this Mama Ruby? A elder relation of yours?”

  “No, ma’am. It’s me.”

  Maureen gave Ruby a blank look. “Ruby, I mean, Mama Ruby, have you been in my liquor?”

  “No, ma’am, I ain’t been in your liquor or nobody else’s liquor. I am stone cold sober.”

  Maureen moved closer to Ruby. She leaned forward and sniffed, wiggling her nose like a rabbit. “Naw, I can’t smell no alcohol on your breath, so I guess you are sober.” Maureen shook her head and looked Ruby in the eyes. “You don’t like your regular name? You got to dress it up? And if you don’t mind me sayin’ so, ‘Mama’ is not such an attractive nickname on anybody, unless they happen to be a mama, which you ain’t yet.”

  Ruby pressed her lips together for a brief moment. She gently rocked Viola, even though she was still snoozing like a puppy. “Miss Mo’reen, if it’ll make you feel any better, I like your name. When I have my first girl, I’m goin’ to name her after you.”

  This information pleased Maureen. She smiled. “Hmm. That’s a right nice thing of you to say, Ru, uh, I mean Mama Ruby. I hope I’m around when you do. It’d make me right proud.” There were tears in the old woman’s eyes. She started to dry her eyes with the tail of her flowing black dress, but Ruby snatched a towel off the table and handed it to her.

  “Did you want me for somethin’ else, Miss Mo’reen?” Ruby asked, lowering her voice. “Is there another gentleman you want me to socialize with?”

  “Come here,” Maureen said, beckoning with her finger for Ruby to follow her out to the hallway. As soon as they reached the parlor room entrance, Maureen leaned close to Ruby’s face, smiling like she had won a prize. “Dobie was so pleased with your, uh, talent, he gave us a huge tip.” Maureen handed Ruby a wad of cash, all in one-dollar bills. “Now what else did he give you?”

  Ruby looked at the money in her hand. Then she looked up at Maureen. “Nothin’, ma’am. He told me that you told him to pay you, and that you would give me my share.”

  “That’s right. And I just did.” Maureen cleared her throat and gazed at Ruby with mild contempt. “Any questions?”

  Ruby exhaled as she counted the money. Her mouth dropped open and both of her eyebrows rose. Then she looked at Maureen and asked, “Ten dollars? Is this all I get for all I done for that missin’ fingers, one-eyed, white man?”

  Maureen’s eyes got big and she placed her hands on her hips. Even though she was one of the most liberal madams in the District, she still maintained a certain level of decorum when it came to dealing with low-level people, meaning people of color. “Now I like you, Mama Ruby, and I hope that you will be with me for a long time to come. But you know better than to cross the line with me, girl.”

  “But Miss Mo’reen, I done that deed for you on account of, I thought I’d get some big money. I can’t do a whole lot with the ten dollars a week you pay me to cook, clean, and babysit.” Ruby paused and shifted the baby around in her arms. “And I take care of them chickens you got in the backyard, I wash clothes, I maintain your flower garden, and I—”

  Maureen’s eyes got even bigger. She gave Ruby the most incredulous look she could manage. “Hush up! I know everything you do around here! And I have to admit, you do it damn well—which is why I make you do things that Al or Mazel ought to be doin’. Them lazy boogers! But this is the thing, darlin’.” At this point Maureen steered Ruby back toward the kitchen. “You are livin’ here in my house, free. You are gobblin’ up my food—that I pay good money for—like a ’gator, free. I even give you them maid frocks you wear, free! What more do you want, girl—diamonds and gold? I bet you can’t go no place else and make out this good! Now you count your blessin’ and behave yourself, you hear?”

  “Yessum,” Ruby mumbled, surprised at how well she could hold her tongue when necessary. “I guess I’ll take little Viola upstairs and put her back to bed.” With a contrite look on her face, she turned to walk away.

  “And another thing,” Maureen hollered, tapping Ruby on the shoulder.

  Ruby stopped, but she didn’t turn to face Maureen. “What is that?”

  “If you stay in your place as long as you’re in my house, me and you will be real good friends. Don’t start no mess, won’t be no mess. Is that clear?”

  Ruby turned her head around just enough so that Maureen could see the contempt on her face. “That’s clear. It’s so clear I could see it even with my eyes closed,” she said dryly, her lips barely moving.

  “That’s better. Now you put that young’un back to bed, and take the rest of the evenin’ off and do whatever it is you want to do. You deserve it. I’ve been meanin’ to show my appreciation for all you’ve done lately. Go do somethin’ that’ll make you feel good. Go to that night revival at that colored church tent thing across town that I heard about from Mazel and Al. They went to it last Sunday, and it done them both a world of good. They’ve both been real humble most of the week, like they should have been already. I didn’t even have to remind Al to spray the mattresses this mornin’. And Mazel hasn’t been burnin’ the grits like she
used to every mornin’.”

  “Mazel said I had to help her serve your guests later when it gets even more crowded and busier tonight,” Ruby said. “Do I?”

  “Mazel don’t pay your wages. She ain’t got no more say about nothin’ around here than this itty-bitty baby in your arms.” Maureen removed the child from Ruby’s arms and started to walk away. “You tell Mazel that if she’s got a problem with anything you do, she can talk to me about it. And take my word for it, I’ll straighten her out real quick. Now you git! Go put on some glad rags, and go out and enjoy yourself somewhere. I’ll put this child to bed myself.”

  An hour and a half later, Ruby entered the Smart Set. It was a run-down bar on a dark narrow street that catered to black folks, and also white folks who didn’t have enough money or class for anything better. Other than a few servicemen at the bar, there were only about five other patrons present.

  Ruby didn’t want to spend her money on a drink. And she certainly didn’t want to take a chance on the bartender embarrassing her by asking her to show some ID to prove she was of legal drinking age. She ordered a large root beer and took it to one of the six booths in the dimly lit place.

  It had been a long, busy day, but Ruby had enjoyed it. She couldn’t stop thinking about her intimate encounter with the man who had suggested her new nickname. Mama Ruby ... oh, she liked that.

  When a tall black man in his midtwenties approached her and asked her name, she promptly answered, “Mama Ruby.” He was in a soldier’s uniform and that impressed her. To her, a military uniform was an indication that a man had some dignity. He was cute, too, and that almost made her giggle. Her oldest sister, Flodell, had told her one time that calling a grown man “cute” was an insult. Dancing bears and trained seals were cute; good-looking men were handsome, her sister had insisted. And this one certainly was handsome. He was almost as dark as Ruby. He had dimples and nice thick juicy lips. His slanted brown eyes gave him a slightly Asiatic appearance, which Ruby found very exotic. She cleared her throat and shook her head to put her thoughts on hold.

  The soldier didn’t even ask if he could join her. He removed his cap and slid it securely under his belt—a belt that seemed like it had been glued to his trim waist. Then he slid into the booth, sitting so close to Ruby their knees touched. She liked his smell. It was a deep husky smell that she wouldn’t have been able to describe if somebody asked her to. But at least it was a clean smell. She glanced at his big hands, glad to see that each one still had four fingers and a thumb.

  “Mama Ruby, you ain’t got no business out here by yourself this time of night. A pretty young thing like you,” the bold soldier said, grinning. It was the first time in her life that a man had called her pretty. All of the males she knew had only referred to her as looking “healthy” or “juicy” when they paid her a compliment. A few had told her that she was “ripe,” which she assumed was another vague compliment. “Where is your man at tonight?”

  “I ain’t got no—uh, my man is overseas fightin’ in this crazy war,” she lied, blinking and pressing her lips together so she could keep her face straight. “We got married last month... .”

  “Your man is lucky,” the soldier mouthed.

  “You mean because he ain’t been killed or shot or nothin’ over there where they fightin’ the war?”

  “Well, that too. But what I meant was, he’s a lucky man to have a woman like you.”

  CHAPTER 42

  RUBY WAS GLAD THAT SHE HAD DECIDED TO WEAR ONE OF her low-cut blouses. Even though people told her on a regular basis that she was not pretty, until tonight, she knew that she had at least one thing on her body that most men appreciated: titties to die for. The soldier’s eyes spent more time inspecting her bosom than her face.

  “Them Japs and Germans is blowin’ up the world, and this is a time for Americans to be together,” the soldier added. “Especially us colored folks.”

  “You got that right. So how come you out here by yourself then?” Ruby asked, sitting up straighter in her seat to make her titties look even bigger. She felt sorry for Othella from time to time. In spite of her beauty, it must have been hell having a chest like a boy. Maybe if she could afford to, she’d buy Othella some of those fake foam titties herself when Othella’s next birthday rolled around.

  “That’s why I came over here to talk to you,” the soldier answered with a grin. “Uh, that’s a nice blouse you got on there. A real good choice for a spectator like me.” He laughed. Ruby laughed with him as she gently touched his hand on the table and squeezed it. It was so refreshing to hold a hand that had all of its fingers. A sad thought crossed her mind as she thought about that nice Mr. Dobie, who had paid so dearly for her virginity. She wondered if he had ever tried to fondle a woman with so many pieces of his right hand missing. Well, she thought, part of a hand was better than part of a dick. She had no idea why she couldn’t stop thinking about Glenn Boates and how she had castrated him for trying to take advantage of her and Othella.

  “You seem distracted. Your eyes keep wanderin’ off,” the soldier noticed. “You must have a whole lot of other things on your mind.”

  Ruby let out a mournful sigh and placed a hand over her heart. “Oh, I was just thinkin’ about my husband, hopin’ he’s safe, and that he makes it home like you.” She squeezed her admirer’s hand again.

  She was enjoying the soldier’s attention, and she didn’t hesitate to accept the beer that he offered to share with her.

  The handsome soldier told her that he had just come home from Italy with an honorable discharge. And that despite several surgeries, he still had a bullet lodged in the back of his right thigh, and a “few other injuries” that he didn’t want to discuss. “I will be gettin’ a nice check from Uncle Sam till the day I die, and I got a good job drivin’ for a dizzy old peckerwood that’s so forgetful he pays me twice for doin’ the same job. Now I’m sittin’ here with my pocket full of money, and I sure would like to spend a few dollars on you.”

  “If you give me twenty dollars, I’ll do anything you want me to do,” Ruby said, surprised at how bold she was behaving. And she was thinking, If I’m goin’ to be a whore, I want to be a good one.

  “I was thinkin’ more like two dollars. I ain’t no Mr. J. P. Getty, and to tell you the truth, you ain’t no twenty-dollar piece. Shit. Them white gals over there in Italy, they did it with me for even less than that! Some did it for free!”

  The soldier didn’t wait for a response from Ruby. He grabbed what was left of his beer and returned to the bar.

  Ruby finished her root beer and exited, unaware that the horny soldier was right behind her.

  “All right. I’ll give you twenty dollars for a piece of tail, and yours better be worth it!” he yelled as soon as he caught up with her.

  The soldier resided in a flophouse two blocks down the street from the bar, and that’s where he took Ruby. He was good to her. He gave her a twenty-dollar bill before she even got naked. Then he made her climax within one minute after he’d eased her down onto the hard roll-away bed in the middle of his one-room residence. As soon as he finished his business, he played with her titties for a few minutes. Then he turned over on his side with his back to Ruby. When he began to snore about ten minutes later, she assumed he was asleep. She got up and quietly dressed in such a hurry that she put her panties back on inside out. She left the room running, carrying her moccasins in her hand. As soon as she got out of the building, she slid her feet into her shoes and smoothed down the sides of her corduroy skirt. She looked up at the window in the soldier’s room. He had already turned off the light and for some reason that made her feel cheap and sad. It seemed like the end of another chapter in her convoluted life in New Orleans.

  During the long walk back to Maureen’s, Ruby realized how much she had missed having sex. The white man who had paid for her bogus virginity earlier that night had not been that good of a lover, but he had aroused her. The soldier who never even told her his name had intensified t
hings and finished what that white man had started. And the way he had humped and pumped into her in that squeaky roll-away bed of his, it was hard for her to believe his story about the bullet in the back of his leg.

  Ruby didn’t know how much longer she and Othella would be living in Miss Maureen’s house. But one thing she did know was that she had to have a man, or some men, who could give her some pleasure on a regular basis. If not, she was going to go crazy.

  The next morning, Ruby knocked on Maureen’s bedroom door and entered before she answered. “Miss Mo’reen, I need to talk to you about somethin’. Uh, a business deal.”

  Maureen was surprised, annoyed, as well as curious. She waved Ruby into her room and motioned for her to lock the door. Ruby did as she was told, then shuffled over to the side of Maureen’s bed and stood in front of her as stiff as a stuffed bird.

  “What’s the matter? What business deal do you need to discuss with me? Them chickens got loose durin’ the night again?” Maureen asked, rising with the white cut-off stocking cap that she slept in every night still covering her head. She removed the cap and swung her bony, varicose-vein-covered legs to the side of the bed, giving Ruby a harsh look.

  “Your chickens is fine, Miss Mo’reen. I just come from takin’ a look-see at ’em.”

  “Why ain’t you in that kitchen yonder helpin’ Mazel out then? You done tended to them kids of Fat Fanny’s?”

  “Yessum. I did everything I am supposed to do every mornin’,” Ruby said proudly. “I done even emptied all of the spittoons, ashtrays, and every single slop jar from last night. I got the first batch of sheets soakin’ as we speak. And I didn’t forget to use that Epsom salt solution on them jism stains that some of the men leave behind.”