The Place Within
Seven-year-old
Lee and her older sister, Kay, sit at the small, dingy kitchen table in their
parents’ stuffy apartment. They hover over the Chicago Tribune as their mother,
Dee, gives them their daily reading lesson. Sweat pours down Lee’s little round
shaped, mahogany face as she struggles with sounding out the words on the wrinkled
newspaper. Dee, with large pink rollers in her hair and a frown perched on her
full pursed lips, lingers in the background and glares at the back of their
heads. Her olive colored skin is flaming hot with frustration.
“I…
I..I…ta..ta,” Lee says.
“The word is
It! Read it again!” Dee says as spit wildly flies out of
her mouth.
“Yes momma.
I..I.it.”
Dee takes off her discolored
house shoe and yanks Lee to a standing position. She repeatedly whacks Lee’s
backside as her floral, tie up house dress comes undone. Lee bites her bottom
lip and swallows back a tear, trying to be strong. Dee sees the fear on Lee’s
face.
“You betta’
take it girl. Don’t you dare cry,” Dee says in a raspy drawl.
Nine-year-old Kay, with fear on her
chubby, coffee brown face, cringes over the newspaper, waiting for her turn. Dee
pushes Lee back in her chair and takes a swig of vodka from the petite coffee
cup on the stained kitchen counter. Slightly swaggering, she attempts to
straighten her house dress as she motions for Kay to read.
“Go on Kay.
Pick up where she left off,” Dee demands.
“I..it wa..wa.s
la la.like th..the ca..ca..car ca.came ou..ou..out o..of
na..na..no.wh..where.
I..I..I wa..wa..wish th..that wa..wa..we
ca..ca..could
ha..have re..re..scued ha.her in ta..ta..time st..st..states
Of..of..officer
Wa..Wa..Wilton. Ha..ha..he wi..wit..nes.sed,” Kay
stammers.
Dee slams her fist on the flimsy
kitchen table, almost rattling it off its hinges. Startled, Kay slightly jumps.
Instinctively, Lee knows not to show fear. Her momma would knock it right out
of her. Lee and Kay sit at the table with their eyes glued to the newspaper. Dee’s
eyes penetrate the back of their heads.
“Stop
stuttering Kay! You know how to speak! Always tryin’ to stutter when you cain’t
get your way!
It ain’t gone work today! Speak clearly!” Dee screams as she swats Kay
across her back
with her old house shoe.
Lee knows what her momma doesn’t
seem to understand. Kay only stutters when she is scared or nervous. Lee feels
bad for her sister.
“Why cain’t
yall read better?” Dee asks.
Lee, too focused on trying to be
emotionless, remains quiet. Dee refuses to let up. She thrusts Lee forward. Lee
falls out of her chair and stumbles into the table. Kay catches her before she
completely falls to the ground.
“Yall betta’
answer me when I talk to you!” Dee commands.
It is too much. Tears burst out
of Lee’s eyes. Her mother always knows how to break her.
“Sorry momma, we’re
going to learn how to read,” says Lee and Kay.
“What?!” Dee
says.
“We’re going to
learn how to read.”
“You betta.”
The front door opens and bangs
shut. Mr. Floyd struts in, seemingly sly and never really up to any good. He
was the hustler type, always trying to find a way, legally or illegally, to
make a dollar. He would do construction, deliver newspapers or run numbers to
make a quick buck. It didn’t matter. Besides those things, he was also Lee’s
and Kay’s step dad. Grinning from ear to ear and carrying a brown paper bag containing
probably whiskey, he looks like he just struck gold. When he does get a little
change, he usually drops it on a bottle of whiskey and a twelve pack of beer. Lee
and Kay were frightened of him and his slick ways. They felt the
untrustworthiness in him.
Dee smiles as
soon as she sees him like every other woman who has laid eyes on him. His honey
complexion and fast talking ways made him very popular with the ladies, which
always infuriated Dee. She strolls over to give him a kiss, forgetting her prior
frustration with the girls. Lee and Kay secretly roll their eyes behind their
momma’s back.
“Hey baby,” Dee
says as she pecks Mr. Floyd on the lips.
“Now that’s
what I call suga’,” Mr. Floyd says.
He glances around at the girls.
His eyes smile condescendingly at Lee.
“This chile’
look like she don’ saw a ghost,” Mr. Floyd jokes.
“She’s about to
get her butt whipped,” Dee says.
“Aw let it go.
Besides, Jewels’ll be here soon. It’s Friiiiday.”
Dee turns to Lee and Kay.
“Gon’. Lesson’s
over. Go to your room,” Dee says.
Lee and Kay nervously rush out
of the room. They didn’t want their momma to change her mind. On her way out,
Lee secretively grabs a copy of her momma’s Sears catalog and puts it under her
shirt. Mr. Floyd unpacks the beer and whiskey. Dee rattles the paper bag.
“Did you get my
cigarettes?” asks Dee.
Mr. Floyd looks up guilty. Of
course, he forgot. Kay hurries to the bathroom to collect herself. Lee goes to
her room that she shares with Kay and shuts the door. Now, she could be in her
own world. She made the rules in her space. Lee takes the Sears catalog from
under her shirt and looks at the 1965 cover design advertising sewing machines,
cameras and the latest other gadgets. Lee sits on the bed and flips through the
pages until she finds the cameras. She runs her index finger across the newest
Kodak Automatic 35F and the Kodak Instamatic M2, wishing that momma would give
her the money to buy it.
But she knew deep
down that her momma would never see the value in buying her the camera. She
sighs and then looks around the bare room. Across from Kay’s small cot, she
sees her modest twin bed with the faded green sheet covering it, which she got
five Christmases ago. Three worn teddy bears barely adorn Lee’s little divan.
On one of Mr. Floyd’s drunken nights, he cut her oldest one in half. He grew
tired of Lee and Kay fighting over it. Lee ended up not caring. Teddy bears
aren’t really her favorite toys to play with. She seldom uses them for make
believe. Mostly, Lee taunts Kay with teddy bears because they are important to
her.
Lee’s
eyes quickly rest on her makeshift bookshelf and library. She uses two rocks,
one at the front and the other in the back, to hold her five books in place.
Her gaze holds on one of her favorite books. It’s her much loved travel and
photography book. She doesn’t know how to fully read yet, so she likes looking
at the pictures of extraordinary creatures and faraway people. Lee skips over
to it. Grabbing it, she barely can contain her excitement as she closes her
eyes. She shuffles the pages. The papers feel cool on her hand as they run
across her fingertips. Her bright smile eagerly waits to see which country or
city her fingers land on.
Bam! Lee stops
on one page just as the front door slams shut. The sound blares through the
thin walls. Lee doesn’t pay the noise any attention. She can’t wait to see
where she landed. She looks down and
sees the Hassan Tower in Rabat, Morocco. Wow, Africa. In the photo, the sun is
shining from the East as it sets. The beauty in the picture resonates Deeply in
her mind and heart. The image literally takes little Lee’s breath away. She
exhales each time she sees it. Sometimes, she lands on other countries, but
this one is special. She can’t vocalize it. She doesn’t know why. The image
dwells in her heart and mind. It feels and looks like a piece of God. Lee’s
heart warms at the thought of God and the magical connection they have. She
feels that she is born to do something great. Lee spots the caption underneath
the picture. Ready to battle, she tackles the first word.
“Th..th..the.
Ha…Has,” says Lee.
Lee paces the floor determined
to read.
“Hassa…san..To..tow,”
says Lee.
Boom! Kay springs through the
door. Lara, their lanky nine-year-old next door neighbor and Kay’s best friend,
falls behind her. They make a beeline toward little Lee.
“Girl, c’mon. Dr.
King is about to speak,” Kay says.
“We can stay up
til’ 10 tonight,” Lara says.
“Na-uh! Who
said that?” Kay asks.
“Our moms did,”
Lara says.
“Our momma said
that?” Lee timidly asks while looking at Lara.
“Yea, she did. And
my momma said so too,” Lara says.
“Girls, get in
here! You need to hear this,” Dee shouts from the living
room.
Lee drops her book upon hearing
her momma’s voice. They all take off to the living room. It looks like all of
the five units are in their tiny apartment. The whole building is there. Lara’s
mom, Miss Betty, ushers the kids to a spot on the floor in front of the
television.
“You kids need
to watch this! You see how they hose us down. This is
reality! The
man ain’t gon’ never give us a break,” Dee says, now all dolled up in
a lime green,
halter dress with her hair in big spiral curls.
The dark, devastating images of
Negro people being hosed and beaten down in the streets of their own
neighborhoods storm across the screen. It invigorates the crowd in her parents’
apartment.
“They treat us
like stray dogs in the street,” Mr. Floyd says.
“Talk to us
like we nothing,” Dee says.
“We need jobs
man, Dr. King needs to talk about that,” Lara’s dad says.
Dr. Martin
Luther King Jr. pops on the screen. Quietness falls upon the crowd in their
apartment. Everyone awaits Dr. King’s speech. Lee’s eyes scan the small
gathering. She loves to observe every one’s expressions. Snap! Lee takes a
mental photo of everyone in the room. Her fingers slowly rise to her face and
take the shape of a camera. Lee snaps a mental photo of everyone’s face through
her eye lens. Suddenly, her eyes stop on her momma’s glare back at her. Dee’s
eyes gesture for Lee to turn her attention back to their 19 inch television.
Dr. King looks up at the huge mass of people standing in front of him at the
Washington Monument. Joy springs from Dr. King’s eyes. Lee stares at his eyes.
She examines his expression. He looks peaceful and aware. One could tell that
there is a vision in his heart and mind. One could see it in his eyes. Lee,
mesmerized by Dr. King’s facial expression, stares on.
“I had a dream
last night. Oh brothers and sisters, what a marvelous dream I had last
night. I have a
dream that one day…” says Dr. King.
As Dr. King speaks, Lee starts
envisioning his dream too. She can see Negro boys and girls playing on the
playground with White girls and boys. Dr. King is like a Master Teacher. Lee is
an open soul who is young enough to believe. She sees the future that Dr. King
describes. The images play out in her mind’s eye. She believes.
“Hopefully, that
day will come, Dr. King,” Auntie Jewels says.
“I doubt it.
They ain’t gon’ ever give us a break,” Dee says.
Secretly, Lee
knows that Dr. King’s vision will come true. Something inside tells her. She
can’t articulate it. Lee looks around at Kay and Lara. They both smile at her. Kay
ruffles her hair. Even if it was for a moment, unity fills the room. It feels
good. Everybody is one in a common purpose. If only it can last. Lee knows that
it is “party night” for her momma and poppa. Some people will exchange words.
Maybe some fights will break out. Lee isn’t ready to think about later. This
peaceful moment captivates her temporarily. A loud applause rings out
throughout the living room and on the television. Dr. King is being hugged by
many spectators. Inspiration is all around the room. Everyone is buzzing on
discussing American politics. That is until Al Green’s, Love and Happiness, drones into the room. The beat began to pulsate
throughout the dusty apartment. People start dancing. Glasses clink together
after a shot of whiskey is poured into them. An air of drunkenness and partying
possesses the room. Mr. Floyd twirls Dee’s pear shaped figure in front of him.
Her eyes meet with Lee’s.
“It’s time for
you kids to go to your room,” Dee says.
Lara and Kay groan. Lee happily
gets up. She is ready to go back into her world. Dee points toward their rooms.
Lee rushes to the room and grabs her travel book as Kay turns on the secondhand
19 inch black and white that they share. It was a fixer up that Mr. Floyd won
from one of his many dice games. Casablanca
with Humphrey Bogart is on. Kay happily sits in front of the TV, ready to see
the part when Humphrey Bogart sees his one true love walk into his restaurant
with her husband. Lara turns the channel to the Ed Sullivan show.
“Hey, I was
watching that,” Kay exclaims.
“C’mon Kay, the
Jackson Five is on tonight,” Lara says.
Kay happily
high fives Lara, like thanks for reminding me. The Jackson Five is a cool
group. They are fun to watch, and their music is groovy. But, Lee is on a
mission. She is going to learn how to read if it kills her. She is tired of
getting spanked because she can’t read. She will show her momma that she isn’t
stupid. Kay and Lara dance along to Michael’s voice.
“Michael is my
boyfriend,” Kay says.
“I don’t care.
Jermaine is my man,” Lara says.
“It….i..is..o..ne..one..of,”
Lee says.
“Do you have to
read right now?” Lara asks as she looks at Lee.
“She’s tired of
momma whipping her butt,” Kay says.
Lara laughs.
They continue to dance and sing along with Michael while Lee struggles with
every word. The laughing and crooning of the adults in the other room didn’t
deter Lee either. She kept right on going. Soon, the cool summer evening turns
into the coldness of the late night. Lee wakes to the slamming of pots and pans
against the wall. She wildly looks around her room. She lies in the middle of
her bed fully dressed in her clothes from earlier. The travel book is sprawled
across her chest. Kay sleeps soundlessly in the bed next to her. Lara is gone,
and the TV is off. She could hear her mother’s heavy voice screeching through
the thin walls. Lee yanks open their closed bedroom door. She can’t believe her
eyes. Dee is chasing Mr. Floyd around the room with a skillet. Thank God it
didn’t look hot.
“Liar! I saw the
way you looked at her!” Dee yells.
“Woman, you
betta’ sit yo’ butt down. I ain’t flirt with her,” Mr. Floyd insists.
Dee isn’t hearing it. She throws
the skillet at him. Paralyzed by fear, Lee stares at them. Mr. Floyd dodges the
hit as Dee grabs a pot from the kitchen counter.
“You liar! You
must think I’m a fool! Actin’ like I ain’t see what you was doing right in
front of my
eyes,” says Dee.
She approaches Mr.
Floyd again, ready to take a swing. Lee starts hyperventilating. She felt like
her whole body was constricting. She couldn’t help herself. The more her
parents argue, the more Lee panics. Mr. Floyd grabs a knife from the dish
drainer. He points it at Dee. Dee momentarily backs down, which gives Mr. Floyd
enough time to run to the front door and out of the house. Dee chases him. She
stops at the front door and yells down the hallway after him.
“You betta stay
gon’ tonight if you know what’s good for you!” Dee shouts.
Tears stream down Lee’s face as
her face turns red from breathing so hard. Dee walks back inside. She sees Lee.
Forgetting her wild hair and sweat stained dress, Dee turns on Lee.
“Girl, breathe
and git back in that room! You should be sleep,” Dee screams.
As her momma
heads toward her, Lee snaps out of her trance and rushes back to bed. Dee
appears in the doorway and sees that Lee is back in bed. Lee’s frail body
trembles under her bed covers. Satisfied, Dee yanks the door shut. Lee looks
over at Kay. She is shocked to find her still asleep. Lee looks at her travel
book. It will soothe her. She picks it up and rocks back and forth, silently
praying to God to take her away from this place and to one of the faraway
places in her book. Her heart tells her to read. Lee quietly reads from her
book.
Over the course
of a series of sleepless nights, Lee practices reading and gets better and
better. The years roll by, and Lee continues to be determined to do well in
school. She graduates with honors from high school. She goes on to a solid
college, but has to drop out her second year because her momma and Mr. Floyd
refuse to help her pay for it by taking out a loan. Lee goes through a confusing
period of searching in her life. She finally decides to work as a bank teller
and meets her future ex-husband at her bank when he comes in for a loan. She
ends up having two girls with him, Karen and Debra, and divorced him after
their youngest graduated from high school. She had become disconnected from
him. He partied and drank too much for her. His alcoholic complacency and lack
of drive became a heavy burden for her to bear.
Then, one day
in 2007 when her bank decided to have massive lay-offs because of the
real-estate recession, Lee looked at her last piece of mail that came to her
office, two advertisement letters on foreclosed homes and the latest Time
magazine with the Hassan Tower on the cover. Lee couldn’t believe it. It was
the same image that she remembered from her childhood travel book that she
loved so much. She took it home to the little apartment that she shared with
her youngest daughter, who was in night school at a local community college.
Debra walked in from class and saw Lee staring at the Hassan Tower photo on the
cover of Time.
“Hey, don’t
stare too hard, you might just fall through,” teases Debra.
Startled, Lee looks up and
smiles at Debra. She pushes the Time magazine under her banker box that is
filled with her work belongings.
“Wow, I can’t
believe you don’t work there anymore, my whole life you have been a bank teller
and loan officer, what’s next?” says Debra.
“Well, I got a
three month severance package, but after that I guess I can collect
unemployment until this recession lets up and then send my resume back out to
other mortgage companies or banks,” explains Lee.
“Or you can go
to this place before you get too old and become bed-ridden,” jokes Debra as she
pulls out the Time magazine with the Hassan Tower on the cover.
“It’s too late
for me, honey, my time has passed.”
“Mom, it is
never too late, in my art history class there are several people who are at
least 55 years or older.”
“Really?”
“Yes, come up
to my school and talk to the admissions office and see what options you have,
you could finally take those photography classes and even get your degree, it
is time for you to think about the things that you love to do the most.”
“Well, aren’t
you just brimming with answers today.”
“Mom,
seriously, everyone knows that you love taking pictures and talking about God,
why don’t you go back to school for photography and do something spiritual with
it.”
Lee looks thoughtful at Debra,
really considering her suggestion. Nine months later, Lee is sitting in a café
in Paris on her laptop. She scrolls over recent photos that she has taken of
the Hassan Tower in Morocco, the Mont-Saint-Michele in Normandy, France and the
Western Wall in Jerusalem. Lee excitedly types an email to her photography
professor that reads- “Professor Clark, thank you so much for helping me to publish
this sacred, holy places photography book. I am so excited to email you the next
photos when I get to Regensburg Cathedral in Bavaria. Talk to you soon.”
Lee hits send
on her email and closes her lap-top. She smiles with excitement and reassurance
as she picks up her suitcase and lap-top and heads to the train station.
El Fin
