Leaving Lymon Read online

  She took a deep breath. “I don’t know who you think you talking to. I’m here ain’t I? Your daddy ain’t.”

  I walked over to the couch and lay down, covered up with my blanket.

  “You think it’s easy letting someone take your baby from you? Telling you, you ain’t good enough? I’m doing the best I can to make sure you all getting what you need. Robert’s trying to be a daddy to you.”

  I closed my eyes.

  “Clean this up in the morning,” she said.

  She may have said more, but I wouldn’t know. I fell sound asleep.

  TEN

  Chicago, Illinois 1946

  FIRST thing I saw when I woke up was the broken guitar. And even though I slept sound, I felt tired all over again. Robert left early, Momma too. So, Orvis and Theo ate some toast while I swept up the pieces of the guitar and put them in the trash. Put the part that was still in one piece back in the guitar case, closed it up, and put it back in the corner. They tried hard not to look at me. Finally, Theo asked, “Want some toast?”

  “Nope. Let’s go,” I told them. “We gonna be late.”

  Errol and Clem knew something was up. In class, I could hear Mrs. Robins talking and scratching out words on a board, but all I could see was my guitar, broken in pieces. I looked up when I heard one of boys in class I call country boy answer a question. Been here months and he’s still wearing old overalls like he’s a farmer down South.

  His slow-talking, slow-walking ways don’t belong nowhere near Chicago. Most everyone can take some horsing ’round at school. Everyone except country boy. After he went and told his daddy I been bothering him after school, he made me madder than Curtis ever did. Watched his daddy come to school, worried about his boy, and walk right in Principal Davis’ office. Next thing, I’m sitting in the office listening to talk about “consequences.” Had to stay home from school for a whole week. First two days, I left same as always, but then one day when I snuck back to the apartment, Robert caught me home, hit me good then told my momma she was “raising a juvenile delinquent.” He was so mad you’d have thought it was his boy was suspended. Even when I could go back to school, I didn’t. Spent days after I dropped off Orvis and Theo walking the streets of Chicago, thinking ’bout my daddy and wishing I had someone, anyone, to fight for me.

  Since I got back to Haines, I been watching that country boy at recess and lunch, when he thinks no one’s looking. He keeps a satchel full of books. Back at Fourth Street Elementary, teachers there would read storybooks, sometimes at the end of the day. It was about the only time I liked to hear their voice, acting out the parts. Reminded me of the stories Grandpops told me at night. I could close my eyes and pretend to be lost in there. But when the book closed, it was back to a class where I didn’t belong. Every time I picked up one of those books to read on my own, I couldn’t hear a story, just the stumbling of my own words.

  I watched him one day, cutting through a fence ’round back that led over to Michigan. Told Errol and Clem, we oughtta follow him and find out where he’s heading. But Clem said to leave him alone.

  “Don’t we got better things to do?” Clem said.

  “Why you worried ’bout country boy now?” I asked, staring him down.

  “Didn’t say I was worried,” Clem said smiling. Clem is always smiling. “I said, don’t we got better things to do?”

  Today, I ain’t got better things to do.

  At recess, I watched country boy walk over to the corner of the school yard, looking ’round to make sure no one saw him. I waited till he opened up his satchel and took out one of his books.

  “C’mon,” I said, tapping Errol and Clem, and walked on over, them behind me.

  He wasn’t expecting company. I stood over him and snatched the book from his hand. I made out the words Weary Blues by Langston something. I know Langston’s country boy’s real name, but I ain’t used it since he got to Haines. Don’t intend to neither.

  Was him and his big mouth got me suspended from school. He still ain’t paid enough for all that time I had to hear Robert’s mouth every day. Beating on me every time he got in the mood. My momma telling me she “don’t have time” for a boy who don’t know how to act right in school.

  “What’s so interesting in this here book?” I asked him and opened to a page, pretending I was interested.

  I read the words from the book out loud slow: “Yet…thou…hast…a…loveliness…” country boy was even crazier than I thought, sitting in a corner at recess reading a book like this. Like everybody else at Haines, he knows to keep his mouth closed when my mouth is open, but he must have been feeling bold. Laughed right in my face.

  “You can’t barely read,” he said, looking up at me.

  Know I heard Errol or Clem, maybe both of them, laughing behind me. All at one time, I could see this country boy and his daddy walking into school, looking like his shadow, and see my daddy leaving me behind again and again. And I could feel Robert’s belt on me and my momma behind him, just looking on, and my broken guitar and the words from the book all jumbled up….

  “If I can’t read, country boy, you can’t neither.” I told him then. Wishing he was Robert and Momma and Daddy and the stupid teachers. And I tore one page after another from his book, just to see his face. He stood up tall. Looked almost as big as Robert then standing over me. I looked up at him. But what I saw when I looked at him was someone not scared but good and mad and tired too.

  Tired just like me of taking a beating every day for something he didn’t deserve.

  “Pick up my book,” he said low, just like Robert does when he’s real mad. He grabbed my arm and twisted it so hard my knees bent. Errol tried to step in, but country boy wasn’t having none of that. We stood like that for a while, eye-to-eye, ain’t neither one of us want to give. I spit right in his face, but he didn’t let go. Never heard a school yard so quiet.

  When Mrs. Robins took us to the principal’s office, I saw country boy smiling.

  * * *

  “Yet thou hast a loveliness…” If I had to read a book, I wouldn’t waste my time on that mess.

  ELEVEN

  Chicago, Illinois 1946

  WHAT changed most ’bout being at school after the fight with country boy, was I didn’t have nothing to do with him. Momma said I get in trouble one more time at school, I’m looking at being sent away. Don’t know where, but I know it ain’t back to Milwaukee and Ma. Sure ain’t with my daddy.

  Me and country boy acted like we ain’t never met. Didn’t even look at each other. Wasn’t like I was scared. Felt more like Joe Louis in the 12th round, like I’d lost some of the fight in me, but I was still standing.

  The other thing was Clem. After the fight, seemed like he didn’t want nothing more to do with me and Errol.

  “What’s wrong with him?” I asked.

  “Don’t know,” Errol said as Clem stayed inside during recess again. We saw him once after school with country boy walking down Michigan. Looked like they were long-lost buddies. Don’t know where they were going but I knew I couldn’t ask. Me and Errol kept right on together, but without Clem, and Daddy, and without my guitar, seemed like I was walking in my sleep.

  After Robert broke my guitar to pieces, I stopped going home straight after school. I walked the streets of Chicago till my feet hurt and got home in time for dinner. But one day, when it was too cold outside for walking, I came home early. Momma came in the front room after changing out of her work clothes and sat next to me on the couch.

  “I’ma see about getting you a new guitar,” she said.

  “That’s all right,” I told her. Wasn’t nothing gonna replace the one Grandpops gave. “I don’t even feel like playing anymore.”

  “You just saying that now, but once I get you one of those fancy new ones, you’ll go right back to playing. Robert’s just been so tired these days. They giving him a hard time down at his job, promising one thing, and doing something else, but you’ll see, he’s a good man.”
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  I couldn’t even look at her. I was afraid she’d see on my face what was in my head. See all the hate I had inside for him and all the times I wished him hurt or worse.

  All I could get out was, “Mmm-hmmm.”

  “Well, I’ma go lie down. Take Theo and Orvis out for a bit okay? And bring the mail up for me,” she asked, pinching my cheek.

  Soon as she said their names, they came out the room, ready to go. My head hurt something bad and today, all of the Chicago noises were just making it worse. Time we got back to the apartment, felt like my head was about to split in two. On our way up the stairs, I remembered the mail.

  “Go on up, I gotta get the mail,” I told Theo and Orvis, and ran back downstairs to get it. Right on top was a letter with a name I knew. Vera Thurman. I rushed up the stairs so fast, I nearly passed Theo and Orvis as I ran into the apartment, hoping Momma would read what Aunt Vera wrote. But there was Robert sitting his fat behind on the couch.

  “Boys,” he said, looking up when we came in.

  “Hey, Daddy,” Theo and Orvis said. I nodded my head.

  “You got the mail there?” he asked me, holding out his hand.

  “Something in here for my momma,” I told him. Should have just shut up, but I needed to know what Aunt Vera wrote. When he didn’t say nothing, I said, “Should I bring it to her?”

  “Nah, just give it over here,” he said, waiting.

  I handed him the whole stack and stood there while he looked through. He turned to me.

  “You ain’t got nothing better to do than to watch me open mail?”

  I went in the room with Theo and Orvis and watched them play jacks on the floor.

  Daddy told me to hang on. And I promised I would. But I been hanging on longer than anyone should have to, and it was time I figured some things out for myself instead waiting for God and Daddy.

  When I heard Momma in the kitchen, I came out, holding my head.

  “What did the letter from Aunt Vera say?” I asked her.

  “What letter?”

  “One that came today. I gave it to Robert.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t see any letter. I’ll look later. What’s wrong with your head?” she asked.

  “Hurts. Theo and Orvis are too loud.”

  She stopped and held her head to the side, looking at me.

  “Go on and lie on my bed while I’m getting supper started,” she said.

  “Where’s Robert?”

  “He had to go to one of his Mason meetings. He’ll be home later. Go on ahead,” she told me.

  My momma’s room looked out onto the street, but she kept a big curtain at the window to keep it dark. My momma’s side of the bed had some clothes piled up from the laundry she was folding, so I had to sleep on Robert’s side. I took my momma’s pillow, so I could smell her perfume smell. On Robert’s table, I saw the stack of letters I gave him earlier. Didn’t think twice, I grabbed the stack and looked for Aunt Vera’s letter. It was all the way at the bottom, opened. Her letter didn’t have but a few lines:

  Dear Daisy,

  I should have sent this sooner but we’ve been busy taking care of my mother. Please use this to help with Lymon. I’ll send more when I can.

  Send him our love,

  Vera and Clark

  The sound from the el train made the room shake and my head pound harder. Where’s the money she sent? I turned that envelope upside down, but wasn’t nothing in there. Looked over on Ma’s dresser and on her side table. Robert’s work pants were hanging on the chair. I went over and dug my hands deep in one of his pockets. There at the bottom was four bills folded in half. I took them and put those bills in my front pocket. Laid back down on my momma’s pillow. Another train went by and with Aunt Vera’s money in my pocket, I knew then what I had to do.

  Lymon

  ONE

  Chicago, Illinois 1946

  I didn’t need to wait long for Robert’s freight-train snoring to start up before I pulled on my clothes, tied up my shoes, and closed the front door behind me.

  I didn’t mind walking. I could walk all the way to Milwaukee if I had to, but I was hoping instead to buy a ticket on a midnight special back to Milwaukee. Everybody in Chicago knows where to find the train station, so when I stepped outside, I asked the first person I saw, and they told me how to get there. When I got lost, I asked again.

  Felt bad ’bout not saying goodbye to Theo and Orvis. And Errol too. Much as I’d miss Chicago, I’d miss them more. I wondered if Clem would even notice I was gone. Soon as I got back, I was gonna see Mr. Eugene about work, not for haircuts this time, but real money to help Aunt Vera and Uncle Clark. I think Ma’d be happy to have me back, have someone else to fuss at.

  I kept checking to make sure the money was still in my pocket. That money was as much mine as it was theirs. Robert sure didn’t do nothing to earn it. Had to be enough to get me to Milwaukee.

  * * *

  Never been out in the streets of Chicago this late at night. During the day Chicago looked like it was all about business, with everybody off to work and in shops, but at night, it felt like a party. Buildings were lit up and flashing with music pounding out of doorways. ’Long the way, I looked in every nightclub, hoping I’d maybe see my daddy. The men at the door would push me outta the way.

  “Grown folks only, boy,” they’d say.

  But at one of the clubs, a man in one of those fancy suits standing at the door letting people in, let me stand just inside enough to see the stage and see the men up there playing. The club was small and so thick with smoke I started coughing, but I could still see someone tapping on a piano up on stage and some of those shiny horns that sound so pretty. There was a woman up there too in a sparkly dress singing. Her hair was done up all nice, and she was singing in the microphone like she was singing to her man. My heart was just ’bout beating out of my chest. If I didn’t need to get on to Milwaukee, I would have stayed half the night. I remembered Grandpops saying when he heard his first record, he felt like he died and gone to heaven. Watching that band, I was right up there with them on stage and in heaven too. I could see how my daddy couldn’t leave this alone. How the music pulled him from one town to the next. I played the strings of my guitar on my pants leg. Played right along with my eyes closed.

  * * *

  If I was going to make the train, I needed to keep walking, so I did, felt like all night till I made it to Union Station.

  Looked like a lot of folks were looking for a midnight train ’cause even though it was late, Union Station was lit up bright. People were coming and going every which way. The names of places, spelling out MINNEAPOLIS, SIOUX FALLS, and OMAHA, places I never heard of, were all up on one big board.

  I found a seat on a hard, wood bench next to an old lady. Looked like she had ’bout one hundred suitcases. I waited awhile to catch my breath. My feet felt like they were on fire.

  “Excuse me ma’am,” I said. “Can you tell me how I get to Milwaukee?”

  “Well, you go right on over there”—she pointed at a sign said TICKETS—“and buy yourself a ticket.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Think you missed the last train,” she told me. “Next one ain’t till tomorrow morning.”

  I didn’t care how long I had to wait. I walked over and waited in line. When I got to the man at the ticket window, I said, “I need a ticket to Milwaukee.”

  He never looked up. “One way or round trip?” he asked, sorting through his papers.

  I didn’t answer. Finally, he stopped sorting and looked at me.

  “You coming back to Chicago or not boy?”

  “No sir,” I said. “I’m not coming back.”

  He looked at me funny then. “Where’s your parents?” he asked.

  “I’m going to visit my grandma. She’s sick.”

  “Can’t sell a ticket to a minor. You’ll need to bring your parents if—”

  I turned and walked back to the benches. Needed tim
e to think about how to get the ticket. Figured maybe I could ask the old lady to get it for me, but when I went back to the bench, she was gone. Suitcases and all.

  While I was sitting and looking, thinking about who I could ask, I heard someone behind me ask, “You looking for someone, son?”

  When I turned around, I saw blue uniforms and two police officers.

  TWO

  Chicago, Illinois 1946

  THE sun was just coming up as they put me in the back of the police car. Momma and Robert were probably just getting up, on their way down the hall to the bathroom to get ready for work. As we drove, I looked out the window at all the streets and shops I walked past trying to make it to the train. All that just to end up right back where I started. Wondered where I was gonna go since Momma said they was gonna send me off if I messed up again. Robert probably had all my clothes packed up and sitting by the door already.

  “Here we are,” said the police officer who was driving. “Home sweet home.” We parked in front of a white brick building, and they came around and opened the back door to take me out, up the stairs, and inside.

  “Sit over there,” they told me, and pointed to a bench.

  The police station was almost as busy at Union Station. Police brought in people still fighting, took people out with their hands in handcuffs behind their back. Made me almost miss being back at the apartment. As bad as it was, I didn’t want to miss a thing. The station felt like a pot ’bout to boil over.

  “Excuse me, sir,” I said as the police officer who brought me in passed by. I’d been sitting there for so long my behind was sore.

  He stopped and stared down at me.

  “How long do I have to sit here?” I asked him.

  “Till we tell you that you can move,” he told me.

  “Is someone gonna tell my momma I’m here?”