“Granny. Granny,” I mumbled, tossing in my bed from side to side. “Granny, stop him. Stop him,” I yelled. I could feel his hands all over me. First, there was the grabbing around my waist from behind, wild hands pulling me off the road into the ditch. Then there was his hot breath on my neck, smelling like a mixture of tobacco and sweat. Then there was his hands grabbing at my breast. Mixed in with all of this were my screams as I twisted and fought him, trying to get away.
“Shut up,” he growled. The voice felt familiar. My mind almost allowed me to see his face. In my dream world I tried to focus my eyes to see my attacker, but he was still a blur. It was almost like he was standing in fog. I could make out the form, but I couldn’t make out the exact details of his face. But I was remembering his words, clear as day. “Thought you was gonna get away from me,” he said, his hand pressing against my mouth so hard, I was having a difficult time getting air. So I went off my instincts. I bit down hard on his hand. I remembered that. I could almost feel the weight of my teeth bearing down into his flesh.
Then he slapped me hard across my face. Over and over again until my eyes swelled and blood trickled from the corners of my mouth. I remembered my eyes crowding with tears, but as the dream became more and more in focus, I could finally make out that face. That awful face. Skeeter. Skeeter Ketchums. All this time, his face had been like a ghost to me. I could see the outline, but not the details. But now I saw him as clear as if it were actually happening all over again.
I felt arms pulling at me and I tried to fight. “Stop. Stop,” I screamed.
“It’s Granny, baby. It’s Granny. You all right,” the voice said, holding me tighter, keeping me from fighting her or hurting myself. “Open your eyes. Open your eyes and look at me.”
It took me a moment or two, but I was finally able to open my eyes and see that it was, indeed, Granny holding me, and not Skeeter. I relaxed in her arms, but my body was racked with sobs—sobs of thankfulness that Granny was the one holding me and horror that it was Skeeter, Jimmy Earl’s cousin, who attacked me. Skeeter was the one person I knew without a doubt my uncles and new boyfriend would want to kill after the truth came out. Skeeter was always the one taunting folks and saying ugly things. He was always the one leading the parade when the Klan marched through downtown Parsons. And he was the one who had nearly gotten into a fight with Cedric at the ballgame. I wished my attacker were anyone but Skeeter. I didn’t see any way for things to turn out all right once everyone knew who had hurt me.
“What’s going on?” another voice said. I jumped, startled by the sleepy voice across the room. I had completely forgotten that Lucille had spent the night again.
“It’s all right, Lucille. Opal just had a bad dream. I got her. Go on to my room and go back to sleep,” Granny said.
Lucille mumbled something, walked over to my bed, and kissed me on my forehead. Then she went stumbling out the door toward Granny’s room. I looked over at the little clock by my side of the bed. It was 2:00 a.m.
We had gotten back home about seven last night, and it had taken hours after that for me and Lucille to settle down, as we both talked and laughed and giggled over every single thing that happened, from my encounter with Mrs. Paige to Lucille being allowed to sit next to a boy.
Thinking back now, yesterday seemed years and years ago. Now all I could see was Skeeter’s terrible face and smell his awful breath like he was standing right over me again.
“Granny. I remembered,” I whispered, shaking so hard the bed made loud creaking sounds. “It was Skeeter. Skeeter was the one who jumped on me the other day.”
“Skeeter Ketchums,” Granny whispered back at me. Neither one of us wanted Lucille to hear, because just as sure as she heard me say it was Skeeter, she would run and tell her daddy or mama. “Are you sure, chile? Maybe you just dreamed up his face. Maybe it was some strange white man like we first thought. Somebody you didn’t know.”
“No ma’am,” I said in a low voice. “It was Skeeter who got at me the other day. I’m sure. What are we gone do, Granny?” I asked after I was done telling her every detail I could remember.
All I could think of was how Cedric was ready to beat Skeeter down at the baseball game yesterday for just talking at us sideways. I didn’t even want to think what he and the uncles would do if they found out Skeeter was the one to jump me. I sure didn’t want to tell them the truth of what happened, but I knew how angry the uncles got when we didn’t tell them the truth about me getting hurt in the first place. They would be even angrier if they found out that I got my memory back and we didn’t tell them.
Granny was quiet for a long time. So long, I wondered if she had dozed off. But finally she said what she always said. “Pray, chile. That’s all I know for us to do. Pray.”
“Granny, but what if—”
“Let me talk to Jesus about it. He always knows what to do,” she said.
I tried not to be frustrated. I wanted to yell, “Where was Jesus when all of this happened? Why didn’t he stop it before it started? Why? Why? Why?” But I didn’t say any of those things. I knew Granny would have either gotten angry at me or said, “God’s ways aren’t our ways,” or “We’ll understand it better by and by.” So I said nothing, except my usual “Yes ma’am.”
I pulled the thin sheet over both of us. It was still hot from the lack of rain and June in Georgia, but I needed something between us and the outside world, even if it was just an old cotton sheet. It wasn’t long until Granny’s soft prayers to God gave way to her gentle sleeping noises. I tried to go back to sleep, but every time I closed my eyes, that day just kept coming back to me, new details being revealed with such a quickness, I almost lost my breath.
“Let me go. Let me go,” I had yelled as Skeeter held me down to the ground.
“Keep fighting me. I’m gone give you something to fight over in just a minute,” he had said, trying to put his mouth on mine. But I kept twisting and turning, determined not to let him defile me with his nasty mouth.
Somehow I managed to twist around enough to knee him real good in his privates, and he doubled over in pain but recovered so quickly I didn’t have time to move out of his way when he hit me hard in the face with his fist. Then he lifted me up and smashed my head back down. By itself it probably would have hurt me bad, but the back of my head hit a rock, and the next thing I remembered was waking up in Miss Lovenia’s house.
Those memories were crashing back into my mind so hard, I wrapped my arms tighter around Granny’s waist and pressed my head against her back. Before I knew it, I was waking up to Granny telling me it was time to get ready for church.
Granny had let me sleep a little later than normal, so there wasn’t much time to talk about anything. Lucille kept asking me if I was okay, and I told her the truth. Well, sort of the truth. I told her that I had a nightmare about the other day. She came up and hugged me hard.
“You don’t have to say another word,” she said. “We’ll just think about yesterday and how good of a day we both had, and the fact that your boyfriend is going to come walk you to church again. I wish Mama and Daddy would let Ray Carver walk me to church, but Mama said no. Can you believe that they are being so stuffy?”
I could, actually. I knew Lucille acted my age or older, but she was just fifteen. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but I agreed with my aunt and uncle that she needed more time before getting serious about a boy. So I just sort of nodded. But in true Lucille fashion, she moved right along. Her feelings would get hurt sometimes, but she didn’t stay hurt for long.
“So what are you going to wear?” she asked, her excitement renewed.
I groaned. The last thing I wanted to stress out over was my clothes again. Between keeping secrets and all around feeling nervous about me and Cedric, I decided to just go to my closet and wear whatever my hands touched first. I pulled out a light-blue dress I hadn’t worn in a few Sundays. My hair was still neat from yesterday, so once I was done dressing and checking myself one more time in the mirror, I went outside and sat on the porch swing. I was glad I did because I got to catch a glimpse of Cedric walking up the road and crossing over into our yard. Mr. Tote, who only went to church once in a blue moon, was sitting on his stoop. I had called out to him when I came out, but he was busy whittling something, so he’d not said much more than a howdy. I was fine with that. My mind was still full.
“Hey there, Brother Perkins,” he called out to Cedric. “You been mighty regular over here at Miss Birdie’s house, I see.”
I felt my cheeks blush when he said that, but Cedric just laughed.
“Ain’t no secret, Brother Tote,” he said. “Sister Birdie got a beautiful granddaughter, and I’m hoping she’ll let me walk her to church. You ought to join us.”
“Well, Brother Perkins,” Mr. Tote laughed back, “if Miss Birdie would let me walk her to church, I might be heading down that road with y’all.”
I was so glad Granny wasn’t outside to hear Mr. Tote say that. She would have said he was being too fresh. Granny didn’t like Mr. Tote’s flirting. She said she didn’t even want God to send her a godly man, let alone a rascal like Mr. Tote. She just wanted to spend the rest of her days with her family and friends.
Cedric laughed at Mr. Tote’s words and kept walking toward our house, singing to himself as he made his way to the porch steps. When he caught a glimpse of me, he smiled a wide smile.
“Hey, pretty gal,” he said, and then I noticed. Cedric was wearing a pinstriped, powder-blue suit that nearly matched the dress I was wearing.
“They’re gonna think we planned this,” I groaned. “Yesterday was bad enough, but now . . .”
He sat down beside me. “Planned what?”
“Our outfits,” I said, as a tear slid down my face. I felt stupid. With all that I was carrying inside, here I was shedding tears over us both wearing the color blue. I just didn’t want to deal with the snide looks from Hazel Moody and her friends, and I didn’t want to deal with the teasing from M.J. and my other cousins. And I didn’t want to deal with the sideways looks from Granny and my uncles. “I’m going to go inside and change,” I said, about to get up, but Cedric reached over and took both of my hands in his.
“What’s wrong, Opal?” he asked. “I know you ain’t carrying on over some matching outfits. They just clothes, and who cares if somebody thinks we a couple. We is, ain’t we? So what’s really wrong?”
“I—” I started, but before I could finish my thoughts, I heard Granny clear her throat at the door.
“Time to go, children,” she said, walking out with Lucille behind her. “Good morning, Cedric.”
“Good morning, Sister Birdie. Good to see you again this morning,” he said. “Morning, Lucille.”
“Good morning, Stank,” Lucille said as she took Granny by the arm and guided her down the stairs. Lucille was wearing a yellow dress with blue roses on it. As usual, she looked like a dream.
“Morning, Miss Birdie Pruitt,” Mr. Tote called out from his porch. “You looking mighty nice today.” And she did. Granny had on a green dress that she wore with a matching green straw hat. She had her walking stick this morning. I felt bad for keeping her up so late last night. Whenever she didn’t get her rest, her hips and knees tended to hurt her.
“Praise the Lord,” Granny said. “You’d look nice sitting in a pew at the church house.”
“You gone let me sit in the pew beside you?” he asked.
“If that was what it took to get you in the house of the Lord, I reckon so,” she said, but she didn’t slow down walking down the road. We took off behind her as Mr. Tote laughed and waved. Lucille caught up with Granny and walked with her, and Cedric and I walked a few paces behind them.
“What’s wrong, Opal? You not acting like yourself today,” Cedric said down low.
I looked at him and I wanted to tell him. I didn’t want to start off having a relationship with a boy based on lies and half-truths, but at the same time, I didn’t want to start a war here in Colored Town and Parsons. I didn’t want folks fighting over me, and I sure didn’t want somebody I loved to get hurt over something that was over and done with, so I just smiled.
“I think I’m just tired,” I said, and I was telling the truth. I was tired. So maybe that was enough for me to say for now.
“Ain’t nobody gonna say nothing sideways in front of me when it comes to us, Opal Pruitt,” Cedric said. “It took me a while to come to my senses and see that I wasn’t living the kind of life I needed to be living, and in just a few days with you as my girl, I finally seem to see where I want to go in life. I see my purpose.”
I didn’t really know what to say. Hearing Cedric say these things meant the world to me. I had never really pined too hard over not having a boyfriend. I figured the day would come. I figured some boy or man would one day take a shine to me, but I never thought it would be Cedric Perkins. He and I didn’t seem to have anything in common at first glance. But these last few days of being his girl made me see different. I always figured I didn’t have much to offer anybody besides my cooking and cleaning skills. But Cedric made me feel beautiful and worthy to be loved by someone like him. I couldn’t believe I was going into my birthday week and Founder’s Day Week with a boyfriend and a new outlook on life.
It didn’t take long for us to get to church. This Sunday was way different from last Sunday. Sister Perkins was waiting outside, and we all spoke, but she stopped me as everyone else continued to go inside, including Cedric. Once it was just the two of us, she pulled me into a hug.
“Thank you, Opal Pruitt,” she said.
“What are you thanking me for, Sister Perkins? I didn’t do anything,” I said, feeling shy. I had always liked Sister Perkins, but she was never someone I felt close to like some of the older ladies at church. She was kind to everyone, but she had always been a bit standoffish. I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.
“Chile, you have done more than you can even know,” she said, still holding me around my shoulders. “My son is not the same person he was just a week ago. You have changed that boy for the good. God and you, that is. As a mother, we pray that our sons will fall for good girls. Christian girls. Girls with the potential to be good wives and mothers. I know you two are just now starting to talk to each other, but I just wanted you to know, you’ve got my approval. Sister Birdie is the best there is, and for my son to like a granddaughter raised by her, well, I could not ask God for more than that.”
And before I had a chance to say anything else, she squeezed my arm once more and went inside. I was stunned. I didn’t know what to do, so I just sort of stood there not moving.
“You okay?” a voice asked. I looked up and it was Cedric. “Mama didn’t say anything out of the way, did she?”
I shook my head. “No. She was very nice. She said some very nice things.”
He nodded. “I figured. She told me last night when me and Daddy got home that she thought you was good for me, and she hoped I would be good for you.”
“You are,” I said. “We better get inside before Granny comes looking for me.”
Cedric opened the door, and although we didn’t do anything forward like hold hands, we walked together down the aisle of the church. We were early, so there weren’t a lot of people at church yet, but as Cedric and I walked down to the front of the church where I normally sat, and he slid in beside me, I could feel the eyes of people watching us. But the only eyes I focused on were Sister Perkins’s. She looked over at us and smiled and nodded. As some of the older folks walked in, they all stopped at our pew and spoke.
“You young folks looking mighty nice today,” Sister Walker said as she bent down and kissed my cheek. “I meant to come look in after you last week, but my arthritis had me down in the bed. You doing okay?”
I nodded. “Yes ma’am. I’m okay.”
“Don’t you worry none about that Klan and that awful person who put hands on you,” she said. “The Lord sent me a word for you, baby. He said for you to remember Hebrews 13:6. ‘So that we may boldly say, The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do unto me.’”
“Thank you, Sister Walker,” I said, trying not to embarrass myself by crying. It seemed like anytime I was feeling low or bad about anything, one of the elders at church would come to me with a Scripture that they said God had placed on their heart for me. I didn’t always understand everything about God or church or the Scriptures, but I did understand these God-loving people. These saints. These amazing people who stood in the gap when I was motherless and fatherless. They always made sure I felt loved, no matter what.
“You okay?” Cedric asked again.
I nodded. “I’m good.” And I was. I didn’t know what Granny and I were going to do, but I knew this . . . I knew I was going to listen to the words Sister Walker shared with me, and I was going to trust that Granny’s prayers made it all the way to heaven to God’s ears. I didn’t want to be afraid anymore. I didn’t want to worry about Skeeter. I just wanted to enjoy my day sitting with the boy of my dreams in the church that I hoped would one day be the place where I would stand before God and everyone I loved and look into Cedric’s eyes, and him in mine, as we both said the words, “I do.”