Of Bykes and Men

My momma is the prettiest lady in our church. I know because I checked. On Sunday mornin, my daddy tells me to sit still and quit wigglin so much, but I like to look around. Other ladies in church are nice— some of them wear pretty hats, and some smile real kind to me, even on account a my bein white trash. But my momma’s the prettiest of all. She smells like apple pie and fried chicken and coffee, and when she hugs you, you feel like a little ducklin safe in its nest.

Her hair is long and curly like mine, and she wraps it up in a scarf so’s not to let it fall in the food when she’s cookin or in her face when she’s cleanin. Her scarves are very pretty too— but her hair is my favorite.

Her eyes are sparkly like stars, and she smiles at me every day. I love my momma. Most of the time my momma ain’t happy, even though you wouldn’t know it. I know it because I know her the best, and I know why she’s sad.

My momma says I cain’t talk about it to nobody in town, on account a my daddy bein so strong and the church ladies gossipin so. Bound to git back to his ears, my momma says, and best we avoid that. But I wish I could tell someone so they could make my daddy stop and then maybe my momma would be happy on the inside, and not just in her smiles.

Today my momma’s cookin my favorite food: biscuits and gravy. We only have biscuits and gravy when my daddy works the night shift at his factory, because he says it fills the whole trailer with its stench and looks like dog vomit. I don’t think that’s a very nice thing to say about my momma’s food that she made for him, and plus it’s the best thing I ever ate. But my daddy don’t like it, so it’s a special secret for me and my momma.

My daddy works night shift every Thursday night. He leaves fore supper and don’t come home til lunch on Friday. I like when my daddy goes to the night shift because me and my momma do special things that my daddy doesn’t allow— like biscuits and gravy.

Sometimes on those nights, me and my momma wear pants and splash in the river and git muddy and wet. My daddy says pants ain’t for girls, and gittin dirty outside is for hobos. My daddy doesn’t like hobos, but they’re nicer than he is and they like to play checkers with me at the cafe when I go to clean tables. My daddy doesn’t play checkers with me.

The cafe is the only thing I do that my daddy is happy about. My momma’s old friend Manie owns it, and she pays me ten cents an hour to help her out— I clean tables or sweep the front porch or bring coffee to the workmen who come in on their lunch breaks. My daddy says it’s good for me to make money, even if he doesn’t like that Manie wears pants and never did marry anybody even though she’s nearin forty.

He counts up my money every time I work at the cafe, to make sure Manie didn’t miss any, and then he puts it in a tin can on his dresser. I like working at the cafe even if I don’t get to keep my money.

But today, I’m not workin at the cafe— it’s Thursday, so me and my momma are havin biscuits and gravy for supper and then we’re goin to the crick to look for crawdads. We don’t ever keep the crawdads when we catch em, but me and my momma like to see who can find the biggest one. Sometimes we catch fireflies too and put them in a jar— we look at them when the sun sets and everything is dark. They’re so beautiful, like my momma. But, after a minute we let them go, because they wanna fly around and go back to their firefly families.

My momma sets down the plates on our little table outside the trailer, but she puts three by accident. I tell her so, and she smiles and says, Manie is comin over tonight. I feel a little mad about this, because night shift days are for me and my momma, not friends. But I don’t wanna hurt my momma’s feelins, so I just hush.

My daddy doesn’t like Manie at all, except that she pays me to work at the cafe. She’s never been over here to our trailer before. She and my momma grew up together and they were the best friends in school, fore my momma dropped out cause she was growin me for my daddy, and Manie ran away to ride trains and cook over fires in the woods or somethin. I don’t know. She came back.

Manie looks like a man a little. I don’t mean it unkind-like, it’s just the truth. She wears pants and a shirt with buttons like my daddy, and her hair is cut real short, almost like a boy’s. Her arms are strong like my daddy’s, on account a how she plays ball with the boys from the bar on the weekends. Plus she even knows how to drive a car. I don’t know any other lady that knows about cars, specially round here. My daddy would smack my momma in her face if he saw her drivin a car.

Hey Bean, Manie says when she walks up to our trailer, and I say, Hey yourself. We talk a little at the cafe, since she’s the boss, and sometimes she asks how my momma is, but I don’t really know Manie much. I just know how she and my momma used to be friends and then they stopped talkin much when my momma married my daddy. I guess they’re talkin again since she’s comin over on our special night.

I try to stay mad at Manie for ruinin night shift supper, but I really cain’t once we start eatin and she starts talkin. For one thing, she don’t ever talk this much at the cafe— I guess she’s too busy cookin food and tellin the drunks to please go outside if they’re gonna hurl— so I never knew she was so funny.

By the time my momma has stacked up the dirty plates and brought out the jello she made for dessert, we all three of us are laughin so hard our sides are pinchin with pain. I don’t think I ever heard my momma laugh one time before, honest. But I heard it a lot at supper with Manie.

After my momma rinses down the plates, we all head down to the crick. My momma shows Manie how we catch crawdads and hold em up to see who found the biggest one, and Manie says, Come on now. She looks for maybe one minute and then pulls up the biggest dang crawdad I ever seen, honest. Sorry for the dang— but it was a huge one. My momma laughs again. It’s a real pretty sound.

We stay at the crick till the cicadas start hummin so loud I cain’t even hear my momma and Manie talkin on the shore. My momma’s layin down with her head in Manie’s lap and Manie is brushin her hand through my momma’s hair. Sometimes my momma does that to my hair, and it feels real nice. Sometimes I fall asleep on account of it bein so calm. I hope my momma falls asleep here on the crick shore so I can stay out to see the stars.

When we finally go back home and wash the crick off our bodies (she never did fall asleep after all), my momma tucks me in and kneels down next to my bed. She lays her head down on the quilt next to my arm, and I roll over so I can look in her eyes. She turns her head to look at me and says, Thank you for bein nice about Manie comin over today— I know it’s normally our special time.

I tell her back, I was mad when you said she was comin, but it was actually real fun, and I hope she comes next week too. My momma smiles a little, but she looks nervous, like when my daddy comes home smellin like the hobos he hates.

She sits for a minute, then says quiet, Bean, you can’t tell your daddy about Manie comin over today. I nod and don’t ask any questions because it’s a pretty safe guess that if somethin is good, my daddy don’t like it. She still looks real worried, so I say, Don’t worry Momma, I won’t tell him— Manie is our special night shift secret.

My momma laughs and pulls my quilt up so it’s extra warm for me. She closes her eyes real hard, like she is holding something inside her eyelids, and she whispers, I love you so much, Beanie, you know that I do, don’t you?

I ask her, Bigger than the world? She opens her eyes and they’re wobbly from tears, and she smiles and says her part, Bigger than that.

We say this every night— twice when my daddy is drunk and hollerin.

I tell my momma I’m a little sleepy now, and she nods and kisses my forehead as she stands up. Sweet dreams, Little Bean, she tells me, and I fall asleep before she even closes my door.

Manie starts comin over every night shift supper, and stays till bedtime. Sometimes me and my momma and Manie all go catch crawdads after night shift supper, but sometimes we stay at home and Manie teaches me things. She knows all kinda things that my daddy wouldn’t like. She knows about whittlin wood into shapes, and about makin a fire and cookin food on sticks in it, and about playin cards. My momma was happy when Manie taught me about whittlin and fires, but when she saw the cards she said, No ma’am, not in my house. So we stick to the other things.

Tonight after night shift supper, we learn about climbin a tree— but I ain’t very good. I try real hard, but being so far off the ground is just too scary for me. Manie says, You’ll git better with practice, but my momma says, It’s probably a good idea to git on to bed now. I fall asleep real quick, I’m so tired from climbing the tree.

I wake up when it’s still dark outside, and I really thought my daddy came home a day early— but it was just a nightmare. Normally, I can be brave after a bad dream and go to sleep, but I just really want my momma right now. I tiptoe across the trailer, and open my eyes real big to try and see where I’m goin.

When I make it to my momma and daddy’s bed, I can hear her snorin a little— she sleeps better when my daddy ain’t home. I try not to wake her up as I crawl up into her bed— I just want to snuggle with her and go back to sleep— but as soon as I git on top of the bed, somethin moves.

I scream and fall off, and my momma screams and sits up. Beanie? she asks, and I say, Momma? I hear her fumble with a box and then strike a match, lightin the candle by her bed. I stand up and see Manie there in my daddy’s spot. She looks scared, and glances at my momma like she doesn’t know what to do.

My momma sighs real big, and says, Oh Bean, I’m sorry—we didn’t mean to scare you. I say, That’s all right. I ask Manie if she’s sick, and she says, I’m sorry I scared you, I’m just stayin here tonight because it was too dark for me to walk home. I say, That makes sense.

I still want to snuggle with my momma, and I tell them so. Manie smiles and gits out of the bed. She says, I got just the right amount a sleep, so I better head on home anyways. And she lets me climb in. My momma looks up at Manie, worried, but Manie just shakes her head a little and smiles. I don’t know what that means, but I’m already almost asleep again, so I just cuddle up with my momma and close my eyes.

When it’s mornin, my momma is already cookin breakfast and Manie ain’t here anymore. My daddy comes home from the factory and goes right to the bedroom— he don’t say hi to me or my momma, and he leaves his muddy boots on the floor. My momma just cleaned the floor. She looks at me and shakes her head a little— she means, Don’t worry about that.

My momma asks me, Do you wanna help me cut up these tomatoes to fry later? And I say, Yes ma’am, because fried green tomatoes is just about my favorite thing to eat, sides biscuits and gravy. I climb up on the little stool by the counter, and my momma puts a plate with three tomatoes on it in front a me.

I start cuttin em up— I got a lot better with the knife since Manie taught me about whittlin— and my momma starts hummin a song she used to sing to me to put me to sleep when I was a baby. I love that song, but I cain’t ever tell her cause really it’s for babies.

I almost forgot my daddy was home until we heard him start yellin.

Sylvia you bitch, he screams, and he slams the door from the bedroom to the kitchen open, breaking a hole in the wall. My daddy runs out, holding a brassiere, and shoves it in my momma’s face. His face is red and sweaty when he yells at my momma, You brung that fucking bike in here didn’t you? He leans over my momma and she looks so small. I don’t know why he’s so angry about a brassiere, or why he thinks my momma had a bike in the trailer when it wouldn’t even fit.

My daddy grabs my momma’s wrist and twists it so she yells out in pain. She starts cryin real hard and says, Glenn, please, please stop, Beanie is here, please Glenn, just stop it. My daddy is heaving his breath when he looks over and notices me for the first time, still standin over the tomatoes with my knife.

He looks at my eyes, and I think for just a second there he remembers how he used to love me. We look at each other a little longer. Tomato juice runs down my hands. Then he shakes his head just a little, and snaps my momma’s wrist all the way so it breaks.

We all three of us scream. My momma falls to the floor and holds her wrist as she wails and says, Beanie git outta here. My daddy is yellin, Let that teach ya not ta eat fuckin— But he doesn’t git to finish cause I’m screamin too and I yell to my daddy, Don’t you hurt my momma, and before my brain knows enough of what’s goin on to tell my body to stop, I run into my daddy with that kitchen knife and he stops his screamin.

My momma gasps, choking on her tears and snot. My daddy falls to the ground, lookin up at me like I’m an alien from Mars, like he cain’t even figure out what just happened. I wonder myself, but I figure it out quick enough.

I drop that big kitchen knife on the ground, and it lands and slides a little towards my momma. My daddy is groanin and lookin at his side, and his shirt is turnin real red, real fast. Too fast. He’s gotta hole in him now and pretty soon he’s gonna be empty from it.

I look at my momma’s eyes, terrified. This is nothin like my nightmares, this is my real life. My momma looks at my daddy— his eyes are closed now, and his face is real white. He’s mutterin somethin but I cain’t understand it. Then she looks back at me, and scoots over on her butt. With the hand my daddy didn’t break, my momma reaches up and grabs my face.

Look at me, she says, and she starts cryin real hard. Look at me Beanie, she says as she sobs. I look at her, and she says, Listen to me— I did it. I don’t understand, and my momma can tell. She says, I killed him Bean— ya hear me? I nod slowly and she grabs my face even harder. Say it back to me, she says, say what happened.

I look over at my daddy and I cain’t tell if he’s empty of his blood yet. He ain’t movin. I look back at my momma and she nods a little and bites her lip. I think for a minute, then finally I say, You killed my daddy. She nods, wantin me to go on.

I’m cryin now too, cause I understand. I say, My daddy got real mad at you and he broke your hand and you were cuttin tomatoes so you put your knife in him so he wouldn’t hurt you anymore and you killed him by an accident. I’m gonna tell the police man so when he gits here. My momma closes her eyes and nods, shudderin from her cryin.

Good girl, she says.