Chapter 28

Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy: when I fall, I shall arise; when I sit in darkness, the Lord shall be a light unto me.

—Micah 7:8

Johnnie Mae was unpacking a cardboard box when she ran across a cigar box that looked familiar but she couldn’t remember where it had come from. As she peeled off the gray-colored duct tape and opened it, she realized it was the box Angel Gabriel’s great-grandmother had given her. Opening it, she began to flip through some things that at first made no sense to her. There was information on a child recorded in a book Johnnie Mae assumed was done by a midwife—one lonely entry. Johnnie Mae remembered Pearl had been a midwife, as had Pearl’s mother. But Johnnie Mae didn’t have a clue why Pearl had thought it important to give this book to her. There was also other information pertaining to the child, a little girl, inside that box.

Johnnie Mae picked up the phone and called Angel. “Hi, Angel. This is Johnnie Mae Landris.”

“Hi there. It’s been a few weeks since we talked.”

“Yes, it has been a while. Everybody is so busy these days.”

“So what’s up?”

Johnnie Mae looked at the midwife book as she spoke. “Do you remember that box your great-grandmother left for you to give to me?”

“Vaguely.”

“Well, I guess what I really want to know is did she happen to tell you why she wanted me to have it?”

“No. She just asked me to give it to you and said you would know what to do with it,” Angel said.

“Hmmm. That’s interesting, because I don’t have a clue what to do with it. Maybe she thought I’d like to have it for research purposes or something on that line. But there are some things in here about a little girl named Rebecca.”

“Rebecca?”

“Yeah.”

“Rebecca was my mother’s name. But she died when I was around five. We didn’t know it at the time, but I think she probably died from AIDS. My daddy, I hear, was a drug addict and he probably passed it on to her after having used contaminated needles. Back then, people didn’t know what we know now about shared needles spreading that virus. He overdosed, so who knows if he had AIDS or not. That’s how I ended up being raised by Great-granny.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“It’s not something I go around talking about. It was kind of hard growing up without my mother.”

“Where’s your grandmother?”

“I don’t have a clue. I don’t even really know who my grandmother is. She was an off-limits subject for everybody in our house. Like she did something and the whole family completely disowned her or disavowed her and wrote her out of existence—wiped her name off everything, including the family Bibles. And back then when black folks didn’t want you to know something, believe me, they didn’t tell it. Not like it is today where people will get on television and air all their business to the world and whoever else wants to hear it.”

“I would think you could find that information out if you really wanted to,” Johnnie Mae said. “There has to be some kind of record out there.”

“I guess I never really wanted to,” Angel said. “She wasn’t there for my mother or Great-granny. She sure never came home to see Great-granny, which would have been her own mother, during all the years I was there. I just never thought about her. Great-granny had that way about her. Somehow, even as old as she was, I never felt like I was missing anything in my life.”

“So when your Great-granny died, your grandmother didn’t come for the funeral?” Johnnie Mae asked as she rifled through the few papers and other things inside the box. This was starting to sound much like Lena and her mother, Memory’s story.

“Johnnie Mae, I’m not even sure if my grandmother is still alive. I would think not. It’s like I said, I’ve never given much thought about her until you just mentioned it right now. Maybe I should have. But you don’t tend to miss something you’ve never had.”

“And you don’t know your grandmother’s name?”

“No. Don’t think I’ve ever heard it before. Ever. All these years, not one person has said anything about her.”

“Well, okay. I just opened this box and all this was in here. It didn’t make sense to me why she asked you to give it to me, so I thought maybe I was missing something.” Johnnie Mae straightened up the things in the box and closed the lid. “I’ll just put it up and maybe look at it later to see if I can figure out why she thought I should have this or even would want to have it.”

Johnnie Mae and Angel chatted about other things, among them, Brent’s recent proposal of marriage and her not having given him an answer yet. Johnnie Mae hung up and took the box to put it away until a later time, a time when she felt like maybe trying to solve the puzzle. Pearl had a lot of wisdom, and from what Johnnie Mae saw when she met her, Pearl never did anything just to be doing it. There had to be a purpose behind it.

“Pearl,” Johnnie Mae said as she slid the box on a shelf in her walk-in closet, “if you were trying to tell me something, you’d better give me a little more direction here.”

“Mommy, who are you talking to,” six-and-a-half-year-old Princess Rose asked as she peeped into the closet.

“Oh, no one in particular, baby girl. People do that from time to time. We talk when we think no one is listening, to no one in particular.” Johnnie Mae stooped down and kissed Princess Rose on her nose. She couldn’t help but think of Solomon, Princess Rose’s father, and how much he would have enjoyed seeing how beautiful and smart his daughter was growing up to be.

“You mean like when I talk to my friends that other people can’t see?”

“Yes, just like that.” Johnnie Mae tapped Princess Rose’s nose lightly.

“Mommy,” Princess Rose said as she cocked her head to the side and smiled, “can I feel the baby kick again?”

“Well, the baby’s not kicking at the moment,” Johnnie Mae said as she placed her daughter’s hand on her stomach. “See? I think the baby’s asleep.”

“Can we wake the baby up and make the baby play?” Princess Rose rubbed her mother’s stomach in a circular motion.

“I think we should let the baby stay asleep for now. It takes a lot of work to become a baby forming inside there.”

“Did it take me a lot of work when I was becoming a baby inside your stomach?”

“Yes.” Johnnie Mae took her by the hand. “And you see how wonderful you turned out.”

“I hope this baby is as good as I am when the baby comes. Some of these babies get on my nerves. They act just like a baby about everything.”

“Your nerves?” Johnnie Mae said with a laugh. “When did you get nerves?”

“I’ve always had nerves, Mommy. Just like you.”

“Oh.” Johnnie Mae smiled. “Let’s go fix some dinner. I’m getting hungry.”

“Yes, and the baby is probably getting hungry, too.”

Johnnie Mae pulled Princess Rose’s plait. “Your hair is getting so long.”

Just then the phone rang. Johnnie Mae answered it before walking out of the bedroom.

“Sister Landris, this is Monica from the church. I have a woman who wants to schedule an appointment to talk with someone. I see where your name was listed and when I told her who we had available, she wanted to schedule with you. Can you check and see if tomorrow is okay for you?”

“What time tomorrow?”

“She said anytime—morning or afternoon—is fine for her. She’s flexible tomorrow. Said she just desperately needed to talk with someone as soon as possible.”

“Great. I like the flexible kind. Let’s schedule her for in the morning at 10 A.M.”

“Done. If anything changes, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, I’ll have a conference room secured for you, and we’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, Monica?”

“Yes?”

“What’s the person’s name?”

“I’m so sorry, Sister Landris. I’m trying to do too much in a hurry, I guess. Her name is Fatima Adams, and she’s a member here already.”

“Fatima Adams. All right then, Monica. I’ll see you tomorrow around nine.”