To me, San Francisco and Oakland seemed to be on two different planets. Truth is, the San Francisco Bay, which takes about eight minutes to drive across on the Bay Bridge, is all that separates the two cities. As beautiful as San Francisco is, it is no paradise when it comes to crime, but the world had come to know Oakland as an absolute hellhole. It was the last place on Earth I wanted to be on a Saturday afternoon.
“You are going to Oakland alone? Have you lost your mind?” Mom’s horrified voice rang in my ear like a siren. The telephone suddenly felt like a piece of hot coal in my hand. “What does your husband have to say about this?”
“It was Robert’s idea, Mom,” I mumbled, shifting the receiver to my other hand, hoping to find something else to distract me. The cleaning woman who came in twice a week kept everything looking showroom organized and clean. Even the telephone in my hand smelled like Lysol.
My mother had a hearing problem and refused to wear a hearing aid. She spoke in a voice that was so loud it almost pierced my ear. I didn’t look forward to my daily conversations with her. And it wasn’t just the volume of her voice that irritated me. Her special talent was making me feel like an idiot. “I don’t know about you, Meg. All that money you spent on that therapist was a waste. Can’t you find a suitable car in San Francisco? Do you really have to go to Oakland to buy one? And a used car at that.” My mother’s voice rose even higher. “And that’s another thing, what’s the point of buying a used car? You’ll just end up paying for the previous owner’s negligence. By the time it’s over and done with, you’ll have spent the same amount of money that you would have spent on a new car. Maybe even more. And why are you going to look for a car? That’s a man’s job.” There was a triumphant tone in the way Mom sniffed.
I held the telephone away from my face for a moment, rubbing my ear as Mom’s words continued to ring.
“Robert’s boss recommended this place, Mom. I’ve already visited six dealers in San Francisco. And, I am sure that women are intelligent enough to pick out a car.”
“Don’t you dare talk to me about intelligence. Do I have to remind you that you flunked out of college?” I could hear Mom sucking her teeth and mumbling novenas under her breath. “Do you still have that can of Mace I gave you?” My mother’s gruff voice was more irritating than fingernails scraping a blackboard.
“Yes, Mom. It’s in my purse.”
“Do you know how to use it?”
“I’m sure I could figure that out if and when I ever have to use it.”
“Make sure your cellular phone is working. If I don’t hear from you by four, I’m calling the police. What’s the name of that used car place you’re going to?”
“C and L Used Cars, Mom. On International Boulevard.”
“All of those savages shooting, stabbing, and taking drugs. And the police can’t seem to do much about it. It’s a miracle that all of the Whites haven’t moved away from Oakland. It’s a good thing your father had enough insight to get us out of that town before it was too late. As if this family hasn’t had enough heartache already.”
I didn’t even try to hide my exasperation. But the harsh tone of my voice never fazed my mother before, and it didn’t now. “Now you sound like Robert,” I scoffed.
With a steely voice she continued, “I am not a racist, dear. But you know as well as I do that those Blacks, Hispanics, and Asians are the ones giving Oakland such a bad name. When you get to that car place, make sure you find a White salesman, if they have one…”
“Mom, I’ll call you as soon as I get back.”
“If you get back—”
“Bye, Mom.”
It took longer for me to drive from my house on Steiner to a Bay Bridge entrance, but the ride across the Bay was smooth and quick. Eight minutes. Twenty minutes later, I was in the heart of East Oakland, driving into the parking lot at C and L Used Cars.
Before I could park in the customer parking section, a plump, middle-aged salesman in a gray suit greeted me with a toothy grin and a bandaged nose. Mom would be pleased when I told her he was White.
“Are you Lou Cummings?” I asked, climbing out of my two-year-old Lexus.
“At your service, ma’am.” He nodded and extended a wide, soft hand with nails that looked just as well-cared for as mine.
“I’m Mrs. O’Rourke. We spoke yesterday.” A confused look appeared on his round face. He squinted his beady green eyes and smoothed back his long, but thin gray and black hair.
“Oh yes.” Lou snapped his thick fingers. Then he did a brief shufflelike jig and made a face that would have put Jim Carrey to shame. Lou was unusually spry for his age—early to mid forties. His cartoonish behavior put me more at ease. “You’re my first female customer today and where I come from, that means good luck for somebody.”
“Well, I hope that somebody is me,” I replied with a broad smile. “I’ve been to several lots. San Francisco, San Bruno, Brisbane. I’ve looked at more than a dozen cars, and I haven’t seen anything to my liking. And frankly, most of the salesmen I’ve encountered so far didn’t seem as friendly as you.” I felt even more at ease, but I was anxious to conduct and conclude my business.
Lou nodded and caressed his chin, which was surprisingly pointed for a face as round as his. “Well, if you’re looking for a good deal on a good car and friendly service, you’ve come to the right place.”
“Thank you, Lou.” I looked around the lot. It was a small business, with no more than a dozen cars occupying about a corner of the block next door to a Vietnamese restaurant. A huge American flag was displayed in the front window.
“Now let’s get down to business. You wanted a little something for your daughter. Well, I am sure that we can get you fixed up real nice. Now what did you have in mind? Girls are a lot harder to buy cars for than boys. The main thing a girl wants is something cute. My niece insisted on something in a color that would show off her tan in the summertime. Go figure young people.” Lou gave me an exasperated look and waved his hand. “Now how much do you want to spend, dear lady?”
“I don’t care about the price. As long as it’s something dependable.”
“And cute?”
“And cute.”
“Let’s see now. How about a Tercel? We have a couple of those in stock, and the young girls seem to love them.”
Just then another car pulled up and parked next to mine. There were already two other cars in the customer parking lot.
“Why don’t you just let me look around, please? I’m not in a hurry, so you can go take care of someone else first,” I told Lou.
As Lou trotted toward another customer, I clutched my purse as two young scowling Black men strutted past me, looking at me as if I’d just arrived from the moon. Suddenly, Black men seemed to be everywhere. Two more drove into the lot, rap music blasting. Another one was strutting in my direction. But this one was different. Only the Devil himself could have startled me more than Clyde Brooks.
“Megan, is that you?”
I looked into the face of the last Black man in the universe that I ever wanted to see again.
“Clyde? Oh my God!” I exclaimed. First, my body swayed, and then I felt like I was levitating. “It’s been years,” I said, wailing.
“Twenty-eight and a half,” Clyde said, sneering. “That’s a whole lotta years. Some folks don’t even live that long.” The expression on his face was grim and determined.
“Uh, yes, I know,” I stammered.
Clyde was wearing a black denim jumpsuit. I had planned to go to the gym later, so I had on a gray sweatshirt, a plain cotton skirt, and running shoes. My hair, longer than I usually wore it, was in a ponytail. Except for the silver Lexus, I didn’t look like the wife of a wealthy architect.
“I thought it was you. After all these years, I’d know them legs anywhere. Even from behind.”
“Jesus Christ!”
“Not quite, but if I had more hair, and if it was wooly, I’d look like Him. Now don’t be standin’ there lookin’ like you ain’t glad to see me. I used to be your favorite nigger—oops, excuse me, African-American.”
I looked around before responding. For the first time in my life, I prayed for an earthquake. One that would open up a hole under my feet and swallow me whole. “How are you, Clyde Brooks?”
“I’m fine, Megan Carmody.”
I shook my head. “It’s O’Rourke now.”
“Oh, that’s right. My grandmother told me that your mama called her up back when, and told her all about you marryin’ some rich architect. I was sorry to hear that it was to one of them highfalutin peckerwoods that would love to give me a one-way ticket to Africa,” Clyde said with a smirk as he scratched his chin.
“Uh, I haven’t seen you since…since…”
“Since our daughter was born. That pretty little girl you didn’t want nothin’ to do with,” he said, growling.
I glanced at the ground. I had to compose myself before I could respond. After a few deep breaths, I looked in Clyde’s eyes. His glare made me feel transparent and frightened. “I-I was just looking for a little something for my daughter. She’s in Europe spending some time with her grandparents.”
He nodded and folded his arms. “Uh-huh. So you got married and got you another daughter?” he asked with his brows furrowed.
“Heather is eighteen. My son, Josh, is twenty.” I sucked in some air and forced a smile. “You look well,” I offered, looking him up and down.
“Oh, it’s all good. I could complain, but I won’t. I just got back from Mexico, and it did me a lot of good. I got me a lot of rest, did a lot of dancin’ and drinkin’, and burned every candle at both ends.” He paused, grimaced, and rubbed the side of his head. “I done got too old for all that high livin’, but that ain’t never stopped me. I’m fin to go to Hawaii next.”
“Have a nice trip,” I said, attempting to leave.
“Hold on now,” Clyde said, stepping in front of me. “I ain’t seen you in years. Don’t be rushin’ off like that.” He crossed his arms and gave me a look that made me even more uncomfortable. “Now, if you don’t mind me sayin’, you still lookin’ mighty good. I guess married life agrees with you.”
“Yes, I have a good life. Uh, how is your grandmother?”
“She’s as good as can be expected for a woman her age. But to hear her tell it, she got one foot in the grave, and the other one on a slippery rock. She ’bout to drive me crazy talkin’ about the kind of funeral she want and shit. She’ll probably outlive me and you both.”
I stepped around Clyde, and started to move toward my car again. “Well, it was good seeing you again, Clyde. Tell Effie I said hello, please.” I froze when Clyde grabbed my arm, squeezing so hard it throbbed.
“Don’t let me scare you off. Again. We still friends, ain’t we?”
“It’s not that,” I told him, prying away his grip. Even after he’d removed his hand, my arm continued to throb. “But I am in a hurry, and I don’t see anything to my liking. My daughter is so picky.”
“Look, you ain’t got to be scared of me. I’m just tryin’ to be friendly. That’s all I ever tried to be with you. I ain’t just another nigger off the street, or did you forget? I guess that rich architect done clouded your memory. Where is that racist son of bitch at now? At home nailin’ up a cross to light up in somebody’s front yard or washin’ out his sheet? Or both.”
“That was unnecessary, Clyde,” I hissed. I could imagine the ugly picture Mom had painted of Robert for Clyde’s grandmother. Yes, my husband was a bigot. But he was not as bad as Clyde made him sound.
“I bet. But the truth hurts, don’t it?”
I was exasperated beyond belief. “Clyde, it was nice seeing you again, and I’m glad to hear that you and your grandmother are doing well. But things are different now,” I said as firmly as I could. A sour taste was spreading throughout my mouth.
“Tell me about it. Are things too different for you to even ask about your daughter?”
My flesh crawled at the mention of my daughter. “How is she?”
“She?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know her name,” I said hotly.
“Her name is Keisha, and she’s fine. You want to meet her?”
“What?” My legs buckled. I stumbled and fell against Clyde. His arm went around my shoulder.
“Come on. She ain’t got to know who you are. She’s asleep anyway and ain’t even got to know you was here.”
Clyde led me into the office where Lou was yelling at someone on the telephone. He looked up and glanced from me to Clyde, but said nothing as Clyde led me into another room toward the back of the small, cluttered office.
There was an old file cabinet, a water cooler, a CD player blasting Toni Braxton on a desk, and a small refrigerator humming noisily in a corner. Next to the refrigerator was what appeared to be a cot or a daybed. On it, lying on her side facing the wall, was a woman with long blond hair in neat corn rows. A thin blue blanket covered her up to her shoulders.
“This is your daughter,” Clyde announced.
I stood back by the door with my trembling arms folded.
“Come look at her,” he urged, beckoning me with both hands.
I couldn’t feel my legs as I moved toward the lump on the cot. As soon as I got close enough, Clyde gently pulled back the cover. I almost fainted. One side of my daughter’s face was twisted and so severely swollen I could barely see her eye.
I gasped. “What happened to her? Was she attacked? You promised my family and me you’d have your relatives in Mississippi raise her. I—”
“I promised I would do just that, and I did.”
“Then why is she here in California?” I asked, waving my arms. “Is she…is she here for a visit?”
A blank look appeared on Clyde’s face. I couldn’t believe how soft his voice sounded. “When she was three, somebody ran her over with a car. In a church parkin’ lot at that. Me and Grandma Effie, we went to see about her as soon as we heard. It was a hit-and-run so we never found out who the low-life bastard was who done it. If I ever do find out, I’ll be goin’ to prison. My baby was in a coma for months, and wasn’t expected to live. But she did.” Clyde paused and leaned over to stroke the girl’s face. I moved away a step when she stirred and moaned softly. “Don’t worry; this girl could sleep through Armageddon.” Letting out a deep breath, Clyde turned back to me. “When she came out of the coma, she had to learn how to walk and talk again. My folks down south told me right off that they couldn’t deal with no child like her no more. But they didn’t even have to go there. I knew from the get-go that my baby was comin’ back to California with me, and that I was goin’ to do whatever it took to take care of her.”
“I didn’t know. I had no way of knowing. I never saw her.”
“I know all of that shit.”
“Well, is she normal? I mean, does she get by all right?”
“Hell no.” With that, Clyde snatched back the blanket and revealed legs that were not only crooked, but unusually thin. “Because of that damn accident, her blood couldn’t keep circulatin’ the way it was supposed to. With her still a growin’ child when it happened, her legs didn’t grow straight and strong like other girls.’”
“Can she walk? Can she get around all right?”
The more Clyde talked about Keisha, the softer his voice got. “She gets around all right, one way or another. Sometimes she gotta use two canes. Sometimes, I carry her.”
I covered my mouth and stumbled to a metal chair in front of the desk. Clyde handed me a Styrofoam cup of water and sat down on the corner of the desk.
“Do you keep her at home?” I asked in a voice that was low enough to be considered a whisper. Clyde cupped his ear and leaned toward me. “Do you keep her at home?” I repeated, much louder.
He gave me an incredulous look. “What’s wrong with you, woman? Of course we keep her at home. This is my child. Where else am I gonna keep her? See, that’s the problem with you White folks. First thing y’all wanna do is hide somebody like Keisha in one of them asylums. Well, my girl ain’t crazy, she ain’t retarded, and she ain’t got no other problems that me and Grandma Effie can’t handle.”
“That’s not what I meant. It’s just that, well, trying to take care of someone with physical limitations must be difficult.”
“Look, lady, just livin’ is difficult. Even for folks like you and me. Yeah, it’s hard takin’ care of Keisha, but I been doin’ it all this time. Me and Granny Effie. And as long as I’m alive, I goin’ to take care of my child.” Clyde lowered his voice and added, “Which is more than I can say for some folks.”
“I have to go now.” I set the cup on the edge of the desk and rose. “I’m happy to see that you, your grandmother, and Keisha are all doing well, Clyde.” I sighed and nodded. “I really mean that.”
“Where you live?” he asked abruptly, looking at me with contempt. “We don’t get too many customers like you,” he added with a sneer.
“I presume you work here, too?” I asked, looking around the congested office.
He nodded. “C and L Used Cars. I’m the C, my buddy Lou out there, he’s the L. Now, answer the question I just asked you. Where you live at?”
“Uh, we live in the city.”
“You been in the Bay Area all this time and I ain’t seen you? I got me a place in ’Frisco, too. How come I ain’t seen you until now? You know me, I get around. I done run into everybody I knew from when I first moved to California. Everybody but you, until now.”
“We lived in Sacramento for a while after we were married. We don’t get out much. The house and the kids keep me busy. And, we travel a lot. We just got back from visiting Robert’s family in Ireland. My daughter might remain there until she starts college this fall. My son’s in the navy.”
Clyde nodded. “Uh-huh. Well, I doubt if I’ll go to Ireland any time soon. Too much mess is goin’ on at them airports these days. Mexico is about as far as I go.” Clyde sniffed and scratched his neck. “Y’all got a phone?”
“Why?” I gasped. My eyes felt like they were going to pop out and roll across the floor.
“Just askin’,” Clyde said, holding up his hand. He returned to the cot and sat on the side, crossing his legs. He pulled the blanket back up to Keisha’s shoulders and looked at his watch. “I’ll have to get her up in a little while. She can’t lay on her side for too long. Fluids might drain and settle on the side of her head where she got the most injured. That’s the way it’s goin’ to be for her ’til the day she die.” Turning to me with a look I could not interpret, Clyde folded his arms and cocked his head. Words slid out of his mouth like venom. “I hope I see you again real soon, Mrs. O’Rourke.”
Just as I was about to attempt to leave again, Keisha sat up, yawning and rubbing her eyes.
“Hello, Sleepin’ Beauty,” Clyde cooed. Nodding in my direction he blurted, “This is your mama.”
I gasped and stumbled against the wall.
Keisha looked from me to Clyde and back to me with a warm smile. “Daddy said I got my good looks from you,” she said.
“Hello, Keisha,” I managed, furious that Clyde had put me in such an impossible position. “You…you are lucky to have a daddy who loves you so much,” I stuttered.
“Did you come to see me?” Keisha asked, struggling to swing her legs to the side of the cot. She groaned, shuddered, and rubbed the side of her head.
“You all right, baby?” Clyde asked.
“Daddy, I’m fine,” Keisha insisted, keeping her eyes on me. “So why did you come?”
“Uh, I came to buy a car.” I had almost forgotten the real reason I had come to Oakland. “I didn’t expect to see you,” I mumbled.
“I’m glad you came. I always wanted to meet you, but I didn’t think I ever would. Daddy said it was better for you.”
“There’s a lot more to it than that, Keisha. I was very young when you were born. I was scared and unmarried.”
“So was Daddy,” Keisha reminded me, rising. With a great deal of effort, she stumbled over to me. “You can hug me if you want to.”
I hugged my precious daughter for the first time. It was too late for tears, but that didn’t stop them from coming. Clyde handed me a paper towel.
“Mama…” Keisha stopped, moved away from me, and looked at Clyde. “Daddy, what do I call her?”
“Her name is Meg, girl. You know that.”
Turning back to me, Keisha said, “You can come see me whenever you want to, Meg. If you want to.”
For the first time in my life, I couldn’t talk. I dropped the soaked paper towel to the floor. Then I snatched open the door and ran all the way back to my car.
I didn’t look back, but through my rearview mirror I could see Clyde and Keisha in the window watching me as I sped out into the street.