Parting
Butterflies
Ms O’Riley be mighty pregnant when she stepped on that bus,
six months gone she was. Nobody knew what was comin’. She stumble on with her
shopping from the day, the bus packed. I was on my way home from workin’ at Ms
Mack’s. Our section empty ‘part from old Ms Granger behind me and the two little
O’Connors opposite me chucklin’ away to their Big Ma’s for the evening.
I watched her waddle her way through the crowd, stand in
front of some girls she know. “Mary, oh Mary, please make room I gotta sit down.”
She gasped, pulled down by the weight of her bags and that big baby in her belly.
I knows this Mary girl Ms O’Riley speaked to. Mary Fitz be the nastiest white
lady in town, nobody with any sense mess with her.
Ms Fitz tilted her head. “Loretta, you know I don’t talk to a
cheater.” Ms O’Riley be sweating real good now, the heat of the Mississippi summer
gettin’ to her.
“Mary, you must know that wasn’t true. You know I never cheated!”
“I’m sorry, honey. Head of the Women’s Community Council
can’t be seen with a slut.”
Ms O’Riley gasped,
“Mary!” The bus went quiet. All I could hear was Ms O’Riley’s deep, heavy
breaths. Ms Fitz stared up at Ms O’Riley.
A mist of tension hung in the air, somethin’ like before a southern storm. But
Ms O’Riley turned and shuffle her way through the white people to our section.
“Uh… Ms O’Riley you can’t do that!” A strong-lookin’ white
man called out. “You’d be better off standing.” She turned to look at him.
“What do you mean Arthur?”
“You’ll catch diseases an’ stuff. Especially with that baby
you carrying you can’t be too careful.”
She smirked, “Oh yeah?”
I looked at her as she walked past me. She was only young, already with
two chil’un and another one comin’. This all she needs. She sat at the very back
bench, moving to the end to see out the window. That when Ms Fitz start up her
god awful shriekin’ laugh again.
***
A few months later, I done find myself working for Ms O’Riley
after Ms Mack went off on a holiday with her girls.
After the day gone by, an’ I be setting the places for dinner,
Ms O’Riley come back. I go get her coat from her and I be putting it in the
cupboard when she ask me the daily question, “Any phone calls for me, Coretta?”
She shuffled off her shoes and into her soft slippers.
“Oh yes, actually, Ms O’Riley. Ms Fitz done called around
three o’clock. She sound mighty urgent
though, you betta phone her back quick.’ Ms O’Riley look doubtful but I give
her the number and she agree to call her.
Later that evening just before I be leaving I popped my head
round the sitting room door and say goodbye, reminding Ms O’Riley of her
pendin’ phone call.
“Thank you, Coretta. Have a good evening.” She walked into
the hall to the house phone as I slipped on my coat.
“Hello? Mary? It’s Loretta. You phoned earlier today and my
maid Coretta –“
I rummaged around in the cupboard for my little black bag and
hooked it onto my arm.
“Oh right, yes. It has been a while since we last spoke
hasn’t it?”
So as not to disturb her conversation I looked back, caught
her eye and gave her a little wave. She nodded and gave me a smile. But that
smile faded and her white face paled as she heard Ms Fitz’s news.
“What?...No Mary! Really? No…No…Well… Oh my I just can’t
believe it. I just can’t believe it…”
Slowly I slipped out, trying to dodge the conversation I got
coming.
It be a nice morning the next day, I strolled to work with
the sun beaming down on my brow. But when I walk in the door of Ms O’Riley’s
she march straight up to me with her baby in her arms.
“Coretta, you know anything about that rumour Mary tol’ me
last night, goin’ round about the lynching of Lee Roy James?”
I put my bag and
coat in the cupboard and took her little girl from her arms. “Don’t you worry ‘bout no rumours Ms O’Riley – “
“Coretta. You’re gonna
tell me the truth of that lynchin’ rumour right now and don’t you leave put any
details.” I sighed a heavy sigh; this ain’t gonna come of no good.
“Yes ma’am, you wanna
sit down? I’ll set you up a cup o’
coffee.” I placed her coffee on the table and wait ‘til she settled. ‘Now, I
heard this chattin’ to ol’ Liz O’Connor when we get talking about the lynching.
Ms O’Riley you done know in this day and age our people disappear by the hands
of white men too often. But Lee Roy close to our hearts. I don’t like a rumour
spreadin’ Ms O’Riley and I sure don’t like this one. There are a million
butterflies in the summer months but there’s always that one that stay
fluttering over yo’ head when you’re tryin’ to take an afternoon nap. This
rumour like that butterfly, Mrs O’Riley. But it seems - I- mean it sounds like
– people sayin’ that… Ms O’Riley the rumour ‘bout town is that… the killer be
Johnny, Ms O’Riley. It was your son, Ms O’Riley.”
She asked me to quit the next day, tol’ me Ms Mack ready for
me back. At first I argued against it. She be needing me at this time but she
stopped me - said she won’t ever forgive herself or her son. And I say, ‘Ms
O’Riley I wont ever forgive him either. But you done been a good mama. Nothing
you could have done to stop it.’ She smile then, and a little tear that
twinkled in the evenin’ sun touched her cheek. I was sad to leave her. She
probably the unluckiest, nicest white girl I know.
But then on the bus back from Ms Mack’s last week, I be
sitting still tryin’ not to move too much ‘cus of the heat, when I see her again
with bag loads of shopping, clutchin’ her baby girl to her chest as she squeeze
through the evening crowd. And I see the empty seat she headin’ for when Mary
Fitz be there again with two other girls chattin’ and squealin’. She get to the
seat and look down at them. It been a while since everybody known whose boy
lynched Lee Roy and ‘cus of that Ms O’Riley been struggling to find help. But
I’ll never forget what happened that day.
Mary Fitz look up at Ms O’Riley and smile. She got a sickly
smile that girl. She whispered to the girls next to her while Ms O’Riley be
sweatin’ and pantin’.
Then those three girls done moved apart. Room for Ms O’Riley
and her baby.
But she stand still. Frozen. Then she looked down at her
little girl. She looked down at the fair whisps of hair, the long eyelashes
that lay around those big, bright, innocent eyes. ‘No way am I making the same
mistake twice.’ She said to herself. She look back up to Ms Fitz, look her
straight in the eye and smiled. Ms O’Riley smile her sweet smile and turned.
Ms Fitz began to shout at her, “Why, Loretta you’ll never
learn! That the coloured section, you’ll get your new born covered in germs,
you know and I heard that if-“
Ms O’Riley sharply turned her head and shook it gently. “Shut
up, Mary.”