“Let me through,” I yelled. “Let me through.” But people were running every which-a-way, and they all seemed to be going in the opposite direction that I was trying to run. I kept getting pushed back, and I couldn’t see any of my family or Cedric. “Granny. Granny,” I called at the top of my lungs, but it was a madhouse. The screams and the yells and the moans filled the air almost as thick as the scent of that barbecue.
I heard another gunshot, and I fell to the ground, trying to get out of the way of any flying bullets. I felt strong arms pick me up. It was M.J.
“Run, Opal. They shooting,” M.J. yelled. “Run. I gotta go see about everybody.”
“Granny’s over there,” I yelled, but he was running at top speed.
Then I saw Jimmy Earl taking off like he was running for his life.
“Doc Henry. Somebody get Doc Henry. They shot . . .” But then his voice trailed off and I couldn’t hear who he said was shot.
“Granny,” I screamed. “Granny!” Somehow I made my legs run me to the crowd of pushing, shoving people.
“Stand back,” I heard someone yell. “Stand back before I start shooting.”
“Mama,” I heard Uncle Myron yell. “Mama.”
I felt arms grab me. It was Sister Perkins. “Come on, chile. We need to get out of here.”
“I can’t see anything, Sister Perkins. Where’s Granny? Where’s my granny, Sister Perkins? Where’s Cedric?” I yelled, but she shook her head and held me tight, not letting me get any closer.
The next thing I knew, I heard a voice say, “Get out the way,” and then Sister Perkins and I got pushed to the ground as someone hurried around us. Then I heard another gunshot. Then two more.
“Run, Opal,” Sister Perkins yelled. She grabbed my hand and we ran until we were hiding behind a tree on the other side of the fairground.
“Where’s Cedric? Where’s my granny?” I whispered. “What’s happening?”
But out of the corner of my eye, I saw something that horrified me more than anything I’d ever seen before. The crowd had moved a bit, and I could see the body of my granny on the ground with someone else who I couldn’t make out lying beside her. Even from a distance I could see by her crumpled-up body that she was hurt. Bad hurt. I had to get to her.
My screams filled the air. “Granny! Granny! Granny! Granny!” I pushed Sister Perkins’s arms away, and I took off running again. My Uncle Myron ran toward me and caught me around my waist.
“She’s been hurt, baby,” he cried. “I don’t know how bad, but Mama’s been hurt bad. I got to find Doc Henry.”
“Noooo. Nooooooooo,” I wailed. “Granny! Granny!” I tried to pull away from Uncle Myron, but he held me tight and wouldn’t let me go. “It ain’t safe. Run the other way, baby. Run.”
“Put down that gun, Rafe Ketchums,” a voice yelled back, where Granny was lying on the ground hurt. “Put it down now or you’ll die today just like your son. Now put down the gun.”
“Any of you niggers move, you gone be just as dead as these niggers on the ground,” Rafe Ketchums yelled. “Y’all killed my boy. Somebody is going to pay for killing my boy.”
“Stay here,” Uncle Myron yelled at me and took off running back toward the crowd.
“Uncle Myron,” I screamed, but he didn’t even look back. I watched as Rafe Ketchums turned the gun on Uncle Myron and shot him twice. Uncle Myron spun around and then hit the ground hard. He didn’t move. Not even a little bit.
“Uncle Myron!” I screamed.
The sheriff aimed his gun at Rafe Ketchums and shot him through his head. He fell like a dead tree, and then everything got quiet. It was like the life was sucked out of the crowd, and then, chaos. People started running and yelling and I could hardly see anything. I tried to put my eyes on Granny again, but the crowd was too thick.
I got up from the ground and saw my Uncle Lem run to where Uncle Myron lay on the ground.
“Doc Henry,” he yelled. “Somebody get Doc Henry. My brother is alive. He’s alive.”
“Thank you, Jesus,” I screamed. I took off running back toward the crowd again. I was determined to get to Granny. I didn’t fear no stray bullet. I just had to see if she was all right, and I had to find Cedric. I still didn’t see him nowhere.
Once I got to the crowd, it was like they knew to let me in this time because a space opened up for me to squeeze through. What I saw was the worst thing I had ever seen before. People were injured and lying on the ground. I couldn’t tell who had been shot or who had gotten run over by people trying to get out of the way. Once again I tried to get to my granny, but this time, Earl Ketchums, Jimmy Earl’s daddy, stood between me and my granny as he brandished his gun. He pointed it wildly from one Colored person to the next.
“She got in the way. Didn’t mean to shoot her, but she got in the way,” Earl Ketchums yelled. I hadn’t even seen him in the crowd, but he still had a gun in his hand, and he was waving it around at everyone like he was out of his mind. Folks started screaming and yelling again. “Any of the rest of y’all get in the way, the same will happen to you. I don’t hate y’all niggers, but you don’t mess with my kin. You just don’t do that.”
Before I had time to drop back down to the ground, two white men tackled Earl Ketchums from behind and took the gun from him. I watched as they led him away, but then I turned my attention back to Granny, who still wasn’t moving.
“Granny,” I yelled. I didn’t care about nothing but getting to my granny. I tried to get up, but all I could do was crawl toward where she lay. It felt like there was a great gulf between where she was and where I was, but I was determined to make it to her somehow. “Get my granny off the ground. Get her up.”
Once again I felt arms and hands reaching for me and folks calling out my name, but all I wanted was my granny, and nothing, not even the Lord God himself, could have stopped me. I felt arms grab me around my waist, and I pulled away from the arms and hands like I was some wild animal.
“She’s gone, baby. Mama’s gone,” I heard a voice say to me, but I wouldn’t listen to him or nobody. I just wanted to get to Granny. The owner of the voice wouldn’t stop pulling, and I turned around and saw the anguished face was Uncle Michael. He was crying, and his face had been badly beaten.
“They shot Cedric too. He’s alive, but baby, it’s bad. And Mama,” he said, but his voice broke.
“Nooooo,” I wailed. “Granny! Granny!” I knew Granny could fix this. I didn’t know how, but I knew if I could just get to her, this would all go away. She would shake me hard and tell me to wake up. I just had to get to her. When I did, I saw she was lying on her stomach and her dress was wet with blood. Cedric was lying beside her. I could tell he was still alive, but his arm looked like it had been ripped apart. Someone had wrapped it with a cloth, but he was being held down by his daddy and two more men as Doc Henry tried to work on him.
“Take off your shirt and wrap it where the blood is coming out,” Doc Henry ordered, and without a second thought Reverend Perkins ripped off his shirt and gave it to Doc Henry. Doc Henry wrapped Cedric’s arm several times with the shirt, which instantly became a bloody mess. “We need to get this boy to my office where I can work on him. Somebody get a truck and get up here with it fast.”
Cedric moaned loudly.
I yanked myself out of Uncle Michael’s arms.
“Cedric, I’m here. Cedric, I’m here,” I cried out. Reverend Perkins twisted around when he heard my voice, and then he motioned for me just as Sister Perkins ran up to Cedric and knelt on the ground too. I tried not to look at my granny’s body that was now covered. Somebody had just put a cloth over her body.
I knelt beside Sister Perkins. “I love you, Cedric. I love you, Cedric Perkins, and you are going to be okay. Do you hear me?”
“Pretty girl,” I heard him say in a raspy voice. “Pretty girl.”
“It’s me. It’s me,” I said, crying so hard I wondered if he could understand a word I was saying.
Sister Perkins took my hand in hers, and we continued to kneel there until someone finally drove their truck over to where we were. Uncle Myron was in the back of the truck, and carefully, Reverend Perkins and a few more men carried Cedric to the truck. Before I knew it, they were driving away.
“Opal, we should go,” Sister Perkins said.
I shook my head. “Not without my granny.” And I knelt on the ground where she lay all covered up. I sat down beside her and reached under the sheet and took out one of her hands. It was covered in blood. I didn’t know if it was her blood or Cedric’s blood or both, but I held it tight. “Don’t you worry, Granny. It’s just me. It’s Opal. I’m not leaving you out here. I’m going to stay right here until we can get you home. You hear me? You hear me?” I called out.
“Opal,” a voice called. “Opal,” the voice called again. I recognized the voice. It was Aunt Shimmy.
I felt her arms around me. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Mama Birdie’s with Grandpa and the Lord now. She’s all right. She’s all right, baby.”
I shook my head and kept rubbing Granny’s hand. I didn’t want to hear all of that. I wanted my granny’s voice to speak to me. That was the only voice I wanted to hear. Lucille finally got away from someone who had been keeping her back, and when she saw Granny on the ground all covered up, she lay on the ground and put her head on Granny and cried. We all cried there together until finally M.J. drove over with Uncle Myron’s car. He got out and came to us.
“Y’all get up. We gonna take Granny home,” he said, his voice choked. Three Colored men that I didn’t know came over and helped us put Granny in the back seat. I climbed in with her and put her head on my lap. It was the first time I got to see her face. She looked at peace. Her face wasn’t scared or hurting. She just looked like she was taking a nap.
“I love you,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
This was all my fault. The guilt started to come over me, and I got to the place where I could barely breathe, the pain hit me so bad. All of this started because Skeeter Ketchums hurt me. I shouldn’t have told.
“I shouldn’t have told,” I muttered as the tears streamed down my face. “I shouldn’t have told.”
“What did you say?” M.J. asked as he drove slowly through the crowd.
“This is my fault,” I wailed, barely getting the words out. “I caused this. I got our granny killed.”
M.J. turned around, stretching his neck so he could look at me. “It ain’t your fault. Listen to me, Opal, and listen to me good. This ain’t your doing. Them Ketchums did this, and they got what they deserved. Granny wouldn’t want you thinking that way.”
I looked back down at my forever sleeping granny, and I cried. I cried harder than I had ever cried before. M.J. tried to comfort me from the driver’s seat and drive without hitting anyone. Once we got out of the crowd, we started the slow drive back to Colored Town. Back to home. When we pulled up, Uncle Michael and Uncle Little Bud were at the house. So were Aunt Shimmy and Uncle Little Bud’s wife, Cheryl Anne, who was now about six months pregnant and waddling like a duck. Lucille was standing beside Aunt Shimmy, who had her arms tightly wrapped around my cousin’s waist. Uncle Lem was back at Doc Henry’s office looking after Uncle Myron.
Uncle Little Bud opened my door and helped me out. I was a bloody mess, and my dress was torn. I looked down at Granny’s pearls around my neck. They were covered in blood too. All I wanted to do was go soak in the tub and climb into Granny’s bed, but instead I stood and watched as they carried my granny’s dead body into the house. The aunts all went to work. They heated up some water on the stove, and they made a bath for Granny and began washing her body. I watched. I wanted to help, but I felt so overwhelmed that I was rooted to my spot. Finally, Cheryl Anne came over to me.
“Let’s get you out of these clothes. We almost got Mama cleaned up. We need to clean you up, too, baby,” she said. I nodded. I let Cheryl Anne take me to my bedroom, and she brought a basin of warm water into the room so I could wash the blood from my body. I felt lost. It was as if I didn’t know how to do anything. Cheryl Anne seemed to understand, because she quietly helped me out of my dress, and she carefully put Granny’s pearls on my nightstand. Then she started washing the blood from my body. Before long she had me clean, my hair neatly plaited into two braids, and me redressed in one of my good church dresses, Granny’s pearls back around my neck, the blood carefully washed away.
“Folks will start to come,” she said in a soft voice. “It ain’t your fault, Opal. You hear me? It ain’t your fault.”
I nodded and sat on my bed. She sat beside me, rubbing her belly.
“You remember how my little brother got the way he did?” she asked.
I looked at her and for a moment was confused, but then finally I remembered. “He had an accident in the bathtub.”
She nodded. “Yes. I was twelve and he was about eight or nine months old. Mama asked me to give him his bath. He was sitting up already, and I darted out of the room for what seemed like was just a second. When I got back, he was lying in the water facedown. He nearly drowned, but Doc Henry brought him back. Randy ain’t never been right since, though. He can hardly walk, and his talking ain’t much better than a toddler and he’s a teenager now. That happened on my watch, but both Mama and Daddy told me it wasn’t my fault, and anytime I get sad, one or both of them will remind me not to look back and to thank God that Randy is still with us. We don’t control nothing, Opal. Not life and not death. You didn’t do this. It just happened and now we got to pick up the pieces. That is what Mother Birdie would have wanted.”
I looked at Cheryl Anne. I had never heard her say so much at one time. I leaned my head against her shoulder, and she held me. We stayed there together for a long while until finally Lucille came in. Someone must have gotten her clean clothes, too, because she was dressed and her hair was freshly combed. She stood at the door.
“Y’all can come sit with Granny now,” she said, the tears streaming down her face. I got up and went to her, pulling her into my arms as we both cried together. I reached up and touched my pearls that Granny had just given me that morning. They were all that I had of hers that was special, and I didn’t mean to ever take them off again.
“Let’s go,” I said, and we walked out of my room and across the hall to Granny’s. Someone had drawn the curtains so just a little bit of light was creeping into the room. Granny’s kerosene lamp had been lit, and it was casting a strange glow throughout the room. The big clock that hung on her wall had been stopped, and the one mirror that was on her dresser had been covered. That was how we prepared our dead and the space they occupied until we buried them. The clock would be restarted and the mirror uncovered after the funeral.
I didn’t know where this custom came from; it was just what we always did. The other custom was that we would sit with Granny’s body until the funeral. She would never be left alone. We called it “sitting with the dead.” One thing we did do different from a lot of Colored families: we buried our dead quickly. I knew that by Monday evening, Granny would be laid to rest beside Grandpa and the twins, who died during childbirth when she was a new bride. They would have been older than Uncle Myron.
I went over to the bed where my granny lay. Uncle Little Bud was sitting beside the bed with his head on Granny’s shoulder. Aunt Shimmy was kneeling by the bed, praying softly, her hand lightly touching Granny’s feet. Uncle Michael stood over to the side with his arms wrapped around his daughter, Lanetta; her baby girl, Gloria; and Uncle Michael’s wife, Aunt Pearl. Uncle Michael was crying short, hiccupping cries. Almost like a child. I went to Granny and sat on the bed with her.
Granny looked so beautiful. I stroked her face. The warmth was gone, but her skin still felt soft and wrinkle free. She just looked like she was in a deep sleep and if I shook her or called out her name, she would wake up and look at me and smile. I fought the urge to start screaming her name. Instead I stroked her hair. Someone had combed her hair and shaped it just like she liked it, and I could smell the herbs and spices someone had rubbed her body with to prepare her for burial. Granny looked ready to go. She looked like she was prepared to meet God looking her very best. I laid my head on her chest. My head touched Uncle Little Bud’s.
“You didn’t have to leave me,” I whispered. “You didn’t have to leave me like this.”
Uncle Little Bud lifted his head, his face covered in sweat and tears. He reached for my hand. “You ain’t alone, baby girl. You won’t never be alone.”
I squeezed his hand. That was all I could do. I had run out of words. All I could think about was Granny and then Cedric and Uncle Myron. I prayed they were doing okay. I wanted to go to both of them, but I didn’t want to leave Granny either. I was so torn. As if on cue, my Uncle Lem came into the room. I hadn’t heard his car drive up. Everybody looked up.
“Myron’s gonna be all right,” he said. Everyone erupted into cries of thanks. “The twins are with him, and he was resting good when I left.”
I got up and went to him. “Cedric. How is Cedric?”
Uncle Lem put his arm around me. “He lost his arm, baby girl. Doc Henry did everything he could to save it, but it was too messed up. The doctor made him comfortable, and his mama and daddy are with him. He’s still at Doc Henry’s.”
“I need to go to him,” I said. I looked back at Granny. There was nothing more I could do for her. Right now, I needed to be with Cedric. I needed to see him for myself.
Uncle Little Bud got up. “Take my seat, Lem. I’ll take Opal to see about Cedric.”
Aunt Shimmy got up from her knees and came over to me and hugged me tight. “We’ll take care of Mama Birdie. You go see about your beau. He’s gonna be needing you.”
I nodded and followed Uncle Little Bud to Uncle Myron’s car. Someone had cleaned the back seat. Then I got angry.
Miss Lovenia had given me just one of those little bags. She hadn’t told me that my choosing to give the bag to Cedric meant Granny would be left without a covering. I was so angry, I didn’t even know what to do with all the feelings. I wanted to go to Miss Lovenia and scream and yell at her, but I knew it would do no good. None of that would bring Granny back. So instead, I tried to concentrate all that I had left in me on Uncle Myron and Cedric. That was all I could do.
When we pulled into the driveway of Doc Henry’s office and house, Jimmy Earl was coming out of the office. I turned my head away from him.
“We’ll sit here until he leaves,” Uncle Little Bud said in a quiet voice. He reached out and took my hand in his, and finally, we heard the sound of Jimmy Earl’s truck firing up. When we heard it leave, we went inside. It smelled like bleach and some other cleansing scent I didn’t recognize. Doc Henry was standing at the door and he looked tired, but he smiled a weary smile. He reached out and touched my arm.
“They’re both going to be fine,” he said. “Your Uncle Myron was shot in his arm and his neck. Thank God neither bullet pierced an artery, so I was able to remove them fairly easy.”
“And Cedric,” I said in a hesitant voice. “You had to take off his arm? His pitching arm?”
Doc Henry nodded his head, his face pained. “I tried to save it, Opal. God knows I did. He’s got a stump. That was the best I could do. But he won’t have no use of that arm again. I’m so sorry.”
I nodded. I felt numb. Uncle Little Bud put his arm around me.
“I need to go see Cedric,” I said.
Doc Henry showed us in and took us to a room in the back of the house. When we walked into the room, Doc Henry went over and gave Cedric a shot of medicine in his good arm. Cedric groaned a bit, but he soon relaxed again. Reverend Perkins and Sister Perkins were sitting by Cedric’s bed. Sister Perkins got up and came to me. She pulled me into an embrace, and I cried in her arms.
“It’s all right, baby,” she said. “It’s all right.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
She pushed me away slightly so we were facing each other, and her face was stern. “You didn’t make any of this happen, Opal. None of this was your fault. Those evil men and boys did this all by themselves, guided by the hands of the devil himself. And I am so sorry about Sister Birdie. Your grandmother was a stalwart for the Kingdom of God, and she is already sitting with our King as we speak. No one blames you for this. Please, don’t blame yourself.”
“Opal,” I heard Cedric call out in a frail-sounding voice.
She smiled. “He’s been calling out for you all afternoon. My son loves himself some Opal Pruitt. Go to him, baby. Take my seat. I’m going to step out and get a bit of air.”
Reverend Perkins got up from his seat and came over and hugged me too. “I’ll go out and let you and Cedric be alone for a minute or two.”
All of them left, and I went over to the bed where Cedric was lying. He had a pained look on his face, and giant tears flowed down his face when he looked up and saw me.
I sat down beside him and took his hand and held it and stroked it. His other arm was wrapped up so tight. I could tell there wasn’t much of it left. Doc Henry cut his arm off from the elbow down.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get to you,” I said in a soft voice. “I haven’t stopped worrying and thinking about you all afternoon.”
“They took my arm, Opal,” he said in a hoarse voice. “I tried to help Miss Birdie, but I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t stop them and they took my arm.”
“Shh . . . ,” I said, putting my finger on his lips, which were dry and parched. I reached over to the stand by the bed he was lying in and got the little glass of water. I dipped my finger into the glass and dabbed his mouth. He licked the liquid gratefully. “Granny isn’t in pain anymore. Don’t worry about her.”
“She was your world,” he groaned in a hoarse voice. “I wish it had been me instead of Miss Birdie.” He coughed, and I dabbed more water on his dry lips. I was afraid to give him too much, so I just kept dabbing. Finally, I spoke again.
I put my finger on his lips. “Don’t say that again, Cedric. I am grateful to God that he didn’t take you from me too. I love you, Cedric Perkins. I wish my granny was still here, but I wouldn’t want to sacrifice your life for nothing. Not for nothing.”
“I ain’t gonna be able to play ball. You won’t be able to be the head wife like Satchel Paige’s wife,” he said, his voice starting to sound distant and sleepy. The medicine Doc Henry gave him must have been working.
“Shh . . . ,” I said again. “Just sleep. I’ll be here. I ain’t going nowhere. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
I watched as Cedric drifted off to sleep.
I looked upwards, barely able to focus because my eyes were so filled with tears. “You done us wrong today, God. Today, you done us wrong,” I whispered, and then I laid my head against Cedric’s good arm and cried. I cried for my granny. I cried for my Uncle Myron, and I cried for Cedric. But mostly, I cried for myself.