1
Race Relations
Emma Johnston or Ms Emma, as the young people in the neighborhood called her, stretched her neck to hear what Gloria and Janice were talking about in the driveway next door. Emma had already saturated the ground with water from the hose, but she was dying to hear some fresh gossip.
"Wait a minute," Gloria said interrupting Janice. "Ms Noisy-butt is trying to break her neck to hear what going on over here."
Janice looked beyond the hedge bushes and waved at the older woman. "Hi yah doin' today Ms Emma?" she asked.
"Just fine," Emma called back from the edge of her front yard. "How's that boy of yours? I saw him last night over by the shopping center near that liquor store with some other young boys. He's going to be such a fine young man. I'm praying Rodney get out of jail soon. A young woman like you shouldn't have to raise a boy all by yourself. A young man needs his father."
"Thank you Ms Emma," Gloria interjected before Janice could respond. "Noisy bitch," Gloria said low enough that Emma couldn't hear her. She knew that Ms Emma was prone to make up a good story if she couldn't find one, and the last thing she needed at the moment was more rumors floating around about her. "Have a good day Ms Emma," Gloria said ushering Janice into her house.
"Hmm! Hmm! Hmm!" Mr Herbert exclaimed as he stopped on the sidewalk in front of Gloria's house to watch the two women enter. He licked his chapped lips and shook his head as the ladies butt-cheeks rose and fell under their knit shorts.
"Get on way from here! You old goat!" Ms Emma shouted at the friendly old drunk and sprayed water at him.
"Why don't you mind your own business, you old bitty!" Mr Herbert said stumbling against the trash cans to avoid the water from Ms Emma's water hose. He made it to the sidewalk on the other side of the street and gave a jester with his middle finger at Ms Emma.
Gloria and Janice laughed at the two old people from the living room window, but were careful not to let Ms Emma notice that they were snooping.
"Hard to believe that they are married," Janice laughed.
"A man has to be drunk to be married to that old witch," Gloria added leading the way to the kitchen.
"I sent Ronald to the store to get me something to drink," Janice said.
"Honey, don't pay any attention to that old bitch," Gloria said.
"After Rodney's sister called, then his mother called to give me a piece of her mind," Janice said. "That crazy old bitch called at the wrong time, and I gave her both barrels."
Gloria retrieved a bottle of rum from the cupboard and poured them both a drink of the liquor over a couple of cubs of ice.
"This is exactly what I needed after letting that bitch have it," Janice said. "Here I am spending every dime I can get my hands on to try and keep her dumass son from spending the rest of his life in jail, and she has the nerve to tell me what I should have done!" She knocked back half the contents of the glass before sitting it back down on the kitchen table.
Gloria knew that Janice needed to get a lot off her chest and was that type of friend. She refilled Janice's glass and waited as Janice gathered her thoughts.
"I should have let his sorry ass family pay the attorney fees, then they might have some room to talk," Janice continued. "And that stupid motherfucker stood in front of the judge with an attitude. He deserves to be in jail. I don't know what I saw in his sorry ass in the first place."
"Janice, c'mon," Gloria said raising one eyebrow. "You know what you saw in him."
"Well, I'll tell you this," Janice said. "A lot of good its doing me with him on lock down. Besides, he's not the only one who can take care of this."
"Shut your mouth girl!" Gloria laughed.
"Aint no need of me celibate and shit just because his dumass got put on lock down," Janice said finishing her drink. "Hell, I've been getting it pretty good on the side while he's been out, calling himself pimpin'."
Gloria laughed eager to know who the guy was that she has been keeping secret. "My girl," she said. "You aint told me who he is yet. I thought we were best friends."
Janice laughed. "Girl, you'd think I'm completely out of my mind," she said wiggling her glass.
Denise, Gloria's daughter and her daughter's two friends, Kelly and Amber, Janice's daughter burst through the front door in boisterous thunder, laughing and talking loud with their shopping bags.
Gloria and Janice stood interrupted as the young women entered.
"Mom?" Denise began. "You'll never guess what your son have gone and done, now. He done picked up him a white girl and brought her home."
"What?" Gloria exclaimed moving barefoot across the floor to the front window. She looked to her neighbor's house next door and saw Ms Emma's curtains moving. She snatched opened the front door, and spoke with all the politeness that she could muster. "Darren, honey, why don't you and your friend come inside," she said knowing that Ms Emma might already have the rumor mill rolling.
"Mom," Darren began giving his mother a kiss on the cheek "this is Elizabeth. I met her in the mall."
"Com'on," Gloria said hurrying her son and the young white girl inside. "It's nice to meet you Elizabeth. Would you like something to drink?" She shook the ice in the half empty liquor glass.
"Mom?" Darren said with disapproval.
Elizabeth put her hand on Darren's arm and stepped in front of him. "I would love one," she said to Gloria.
Gloria raised her eyebrows and smiled at Darren, who shook his head at his mother's obvious ploy.
"That's a cute skirt," Janice said about the odd multi-earth toned flower patterned gypsy-styled long skirt that Elizabeth wore right at her pelvic bone.
"Thank you," Elizabeth replied honestly. "I bought it last year for earth day."
"What's that, a day where a bunch of white folks run around in the woods naked?" Kelly joked to Denise and Amber's amusement.
Darren was clearly not amused.
"Something like that," Elizabeth said, "but there are a lot of people from different nationalities and from all over the world that come together and celebrate the gift of life given by god."
The giggling stopped.
Elizabeth noticed a print hanging on the wall in a wooden carved frame. "This is nice," she said walking towards the picture on the wall.
"Yeah, that's what white people like to see," Kelly said "black men on a chain gang."
"I guess you're right about that," Elizabeth replied turning to look back over her shoulder at Kelly. "The name of this painting is Chain Gang, it was painted by a black man named William H. Johnson, and white folk among others liked it so much that the original is hanging in the National Museum of American Art at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C. William Johnson came from Florence South Carolina to Harlem New York in the early 1900's and studied at the Academy of Design, and then settled in Paris where he produced most of his works including his Self-Portrait in 1929."
"Whoa!" Amber laughed with the others. "You better step off that white girl. Her butt is bigger than yours too."
Kelly rolled her eyes.
"Where did you learn so much about African-American art?" Gloria asked.
"My stepfather brought home a print of William Johnson's Mahlinda and my mother realized that he had a real thing for black women," Elizabeth said. "He tried to explain to my mother the value of the art, but all my mother saw was a picture of a black woman lying on a sofa."
"I bet she did," Gloria laughed.
"Yeah, well my step-dad has a love for black women that my mother never understood," Elizabeth continued. "He taught me a few things about African-American art that I might never have known, like the other two you have there." Elizabeth pointed at two other prints in frames on the wall. "The Mount Calvary and Lamentation are expressions that show that god is not just for white people. Johnson's folk-style of paintings influenced many other artists both black and white."
When Elizabeth finished everyone in the room turned towards Kelly at once, awaiting her response. After a few seconds of silence, everyone laughed. Kelly rolled her eyes.
"So, what other African American artists do you know about?" Darren asked liking Elizabeth's display of knowledge.
"There is Robert S. Duncanson," Elizabeth said. "Some of his work is displayed in the Cleveland Museum of Art. He did a really nice landscape called The Calm that I have in my bedroom. It has the sun coming through the clouds over a lake next to a valley. It cheers me up when I'm depressed."
"See, white folks have all this time to go to museums and shit, while us black folks have to struggle just to get by," Kelly said.
"Shut up, Kelly," Denise said.
"Kelly, I don't know if you are just looking for a fight, but you should be ashamed of yourself," Elizabeth said.
Again, the room got quiet.
"Black people, including those I've had the privilege to meet have suffered, so that you can have the opportunity to do and to be what ever you want to," Elizabeth said. "I don't know if it's just me or all white people that you hate, but you don't show any appreciation for those brave black men and women that came before any of us were thought of. I, for one, would never stand in your way of achieving whatever you want. Peace?" Elizabeth went over to Kelly and extended her hand.
