Beverley glanced toward the house several times while chopping the wood. She never saw the two men looking out at her—Richard and his older brother, Leon, whom everyone called June-bug. They looked out of the screened porch at her, discussing her.
“Man, you gonna take her back to New York with you, aren’t you?” Richard asked his older brother. A decision had to be made. Beverley didn’t recognize Leon as her daddy but he was.
“I don’t know, man,” Leon pondered. “You know Maggie just lost another baby. We’re trying to make this marriage thing work. We don’t need Beverley underfoot full-time while we are doing what we need to do,” he explained to his younger brother, hoping to justify his decision to not take his daughter with him.
Richard continued to reason with him.
“Leon, she’s your daughter, man. She’s lived with Mama and Daddy since she was a baby. Mama’s getting older. Bev needs to grow up around kids her own age. You can’t just keep her out here in the woods, Leon,” he rationalized.
“Look at your other girl, Mildred,” Richard continued. “At least she is growing up with her mother and they live around more people. I think you’ll be making a big mistake if you leave her down here with Mama,” Richard concluded, shaking his head.
Richard knew what it was like living out here. So did his brother. They had lived it. Richard didn’t want his niece to have to go through what he had already lived through, especially since Daddy wasn’t going to be around any longer. He had to figure out a way to convey this to his older brother. He just had to.
Leon suddenly became angry. He felt judged and didn’t like it. Although it wasn’t the best decision, it was the only decision he was prepared to make. He wasn’t prepared to bring Beverley back to New York with him right now—he just wasn’t. What was he going to do? What could he do?
He and Maggie had only been married for five years. She’d had three miscarriages in those five years and was greatly discouraged about not being able to give him children. She welcomed his daughter every summer without fail. He could tell that Maggie really cared for little Beverley. But Leon felt that their lifestyle just didn’t include having a teen around full-time.
“Man, you just don’t understand,” he said angrily to his brother. “Look, you got kids you don’t even see! So how can you judge me?” Leon asked nastily, hitting his younger brother below the belt. He decided that he would not be bullied by anybody into making a decision he was ill-prepared to make.
“All right, man,” Richard said, backing down. “I’m not judging you. I’m just telling you—Beverley is your kid and you’re responsible for her. You know what? Just forget it. I’m done,” Richard ended, leaving his brother on the porch.
Although the conversation was over, Leon continued to consider his youngest daughter out in the yard despondently chopping wood. Yes, he thought. She would probably be better off here in the South. Mama would have more time for her and could keep a better eye on her. He would leave her here he finally decided as he went through the kitchen to check on his mother.
Later on that night, Beverley lay in the big bed in the middle room, the house quiet and still. After all the visitors left, she silently went back into the house. She bypassed the kitchen and Mama who remained in her bed still angry with her husband for leaving her.
Collecting her nightclothes from under her pillow, Beverley went through the kitchen to fill up the wash pan so she could take a quick wash-up. She took the pan into the little closet they called a washroom. There was only one source of running water in the house, a pump in the kitchen. The house had no bathroom or toilet. Instead, they used pots to do their business after dark and the outhouse during the day.
The only time Beverley was afforded the opportunity to experience modern conveniences was when she went to town to Aunt Ida Mae’s house or when she spent the night with her cousin Gloria.
Beverley washed up quickly and put her nightclothes on. She threw the water out the back door and went through the darkened house to her bed. She lay there contemplating the events of the past couple of weeks. Daddy was gone. Today made it final.
She missed him terribly, more than she thought she would. She had loved that man and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he loved her. Why did he have to drink and smoke so God would punish him and send him to Hell?
Looking through the window blinds she had left open, Beverley rolled over onto her left side, gazing at the night sky. She closed her eyes for what she thought was only a moment. When she opened them again, she couldn’t believe her eyes! There was Daddy standing on the front porch!
He didn’t look anything like the corpse she had seen in the casket at the funeral. He looked so handsome, wearing a plain short-sleeved shirt and dungarees. And he had his whiskers. He smiled at her through the window.
Sitting up in the bed, Beverley attempted to wipe the sleep out of her eyes. Was she dreaming or was she awake? She didn’t know the answer to that question and didn’t care. All that mattered was Daddy had come back.
“Daddy,” she asked, hope filling her heart. “Is that you?”
“Yes, baby, it’s Daddy,” he assured her. “I want you to do something for me,” he said with a gentle smile, love filling his eyes.
“OK, Daddy,” she replied eagerly, happy to hear his voice again.
“Take care of your mama,” he requested. He repeated the request, “Take care of your mama.”
Then he was gone.
Beverley sat up in the middle of the bed. Daddy had asked her to take care of Mama. She pondered this request from her beloved Daddy. Why would he ask her to take care of Mama?
More than anyone else, Daddy knew there was no love lost between Beverley and Beulah. It was a well-known fact within the family that when Beverley was born with very light skin, Beulah was ecstatic. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on her new light-skinned granddaughter! Beulah quickly went to New York to get her so she could raise her. As the child grew older, her skin became darker. The difference caused Beulah to shun the child.
Otis noticed but hoped his wife would get over her prejudice against the darker-skinned toddler. She didn’t. As the child grew older and darker, it became obvious that Beulah only tolerated her. As the other lighter-skinned grandchildren came along, Beulah favored them more and Beverley less.
This was the main reason Beverley and Otis became so attached to each other. Otis took the little dark-skinned girl with him everywhere he went except work. When he went to Aiken to visit his sister and her family, Beverley always went and played to her heart’s content with her cousins. When he went off to drink and smoke with his friends, Beverley was his confidant and never told his secrets.
So why would he tell her to take care of Mama? She drifted back to sleep pondering this question a little more but couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation. When she got up the next morning, she quickly told Beulah about the visitation. Still in bed supposedly mourning, Beulah turned her back on the child, admonishing her to not tell tales about the dead.
Beverley considered her grandmother’s back sadly. More than ever, Beverley wished Beulah could have been the one to die and not Daddy. The moment when Beulah turned her back to her, Beulah became the evil, wicked old grandmother. She was not “Mama” anymore.
Beverley contemplated the turn of events in her life and unconsciously began to count down the days until she became eighteen. At eighteen, she would no longer need to look at the back of this woman whom she had grown to despise.
“Father, what is to become of the child Beverley?” asked the Son. He had observed all the turmoil the child had gone through since birth. She had been rejected and had now lost her only friend on the Earth.
“You will see, My Son,” said Almighty God. “This one is strong and will accomplish all I have sent her to the Earth to accomplish. You will see,” promised the Father.