Wild Stars Seeking Midnight Suns Page 6

  Mr. Forest was standing at his wide windows, his arms crossed behind him and a frown on his face as he looked up the street toward the bus stop. He did not have to wait there long. He recognized her by the box she carried. He nodded in her direction, and wondered why he had been thinking of this woman. “She is not attractive, after all. My friend was right.”

  Lily smiled, in more pleasure, at the man, and the shop, where she had enjoyed herself briefly. He saw that smile, and was transported again. He felt her presence again. He took the box from her, and setting it on the counter, turned back to her, saying, “And, so, you are back. How are you?”

  Lily Bea stood there smiling. She even giggled a little, embarrassed or self-conscious, thinking, “He doesn’t want an answer.”

  At her smile, her eyes, her little laughter, he was becoming entranced again. “You must wait to be paid.” He reached for her book. “What is that book you have?” She gave the book to him, with the same smile.

  “Ahhhhh, art! You are interested in art?”

  Lily Bea nodded, and began to speak about the book. She pointed to her bookmark. “I’m reading about Colombian art, but I think I love all art. I’m going to get a book on cathedrals, the ancient cathedrals and temples. I like to study old and strange architecture and art. But they had some special pieces in this book, so I took it out.”

  Her voice, passed from her lips like misty, cultured pearls, went through his ears, encircling his brain, gently, marvelously. The sound quieted his nerves. They spoke, over the book, at length. Her voice hypnotized him. “She is beautiful,” he thought.

  Weldon Forest wanted to give her something. (His heart was a generous one.) As he listened to her, he looked at her manner, her clothes. He thought, “Surely, a little Negro lady would like a lot of things. And this lady likes books, as well.”

  He felt her powers, her gifts, though he did not understand his feelings. But, the next time he had things for the Clean Cleaners, he took them down his own self.

  You may know there is a quality, a gift, some people have. It emanates from their heart and spirit. It imbues their body with an aura that issues from their mind, through their skin . . . to other people who have receptive hearts and minds: those who have beauty in their souls. Lily Bea’s mind was more innocent than some children. It was such a glowing gift. Ephemeral beauty . . . unseen, but felt, in certain people. By the right eyes, hands, and hearts. It must be God Who gives this gift. It is given to few, yet . . . Mystical. Magical. All the taunting, all the pain, in Lily Bea’s childhood caused part of her to huddle, far back, into someplace that was serene and beautiful. She’s still at home there; but her beauty comes out to you, if you have beauty in you.

  Weldon Forest drove himself to take the next delivery, early, to the Clean Cleaners and Lily Bea. He saw Maddy, with the angry crippled leg propped up on a table, jump up on his crippled leg and grin, saying, “Ohhh, Mr. Forest, bossman! How come you to come down here? I coulda come and got those things! Or my wife, Lily here, woulda been glad to pick em up!”

  Weldon Forest’s heart flinched and fell when he heard the word wife. He looked at Lily, who looked miserably embarrassed. Weldon saw none of the beauty. Her face was long and sad. Her eyes were of sorrow. She attempted to smile at Mr. Forest, but lost the effort because there was no light around him. It was vanquished by the dimness of her husband’s shop.

  Mr. Forest looked at Maddy, saying, “Your wife? I didn’t know you had a wife.”

  Maddy was ashamed to have someone ugly to be his wife. He laughed, a stingy, dirty little laugh, said, “Well, sometimes you take what you can get, Mr. Forest. She a good girl, though.”

  Mr. Forest left, thinking, “A girl? Take what you can get? I was out of my mind.” But there lingered in his mind those little thrills, that voice. Then he remembered, Lily had said nothing. Hadn’t even smiled. He didn’t go back to his shop or to his house. He drove to some favorite place of his that was filled with mountains, trees, birds, sky, and clouds. He sat there a long time. His eyes filled with tears that never fell; they just dried, evaporated. Then he drove back to his life. “I don’t know what I was expecting.”

  Lily Bea would not do any delivery again. Her life just continued as usual for the next three months or so. She started taking some of the money they took in, for herself. She took to getting her hair done. She kept it up, even when Maddy said, “We ain’t got no money to waste on your head!”

  They did have money. She knew where it was hidden away. She began to take that bus ride, get off at a good place, and go in to buy things for herself. Little things, not too expensive. And she put some away for herself.

  In her daily movements she noticed the pharmacist, the counterman, the meat-market man, just different men she had to talk to. She noticed they wanted to talk more, be nicer, liked to touch her. She didn’t seek these attentions, they just were. She began to feel a power, her power as a woman, however little. Lily did not understand the power, did not seek to use it. But this knowledge of herself cracked the door open to a freedom to like herself. To even love herself. To let herself be seen . . . a little more. Not by anyone in particular, just anyone.

  Lily Bea, in her private, quiet moments, thought of Weldon Forest. “He is older, but he is very nice. Kind. The world looked different when I was around him. It looked . . . happy. I really like him.”

  Doing her work around the shop, she was still called ugly. Always ugly. I knew that was the loop Maddy was hanging her with. I said little things to make her know that herself. As usual, she did not hate, or even despise, anything but her own (she thought) crooked body, and her husband who still grabbed her body in the nights, greedily, whenever he could. Often, he tried to sneak on top of her when she was on her pallet, asleep. She always woke up, screaming.

  Lily Bea wanted to leave Maddy, was saving money to that end. But where to go? No place she knew, and she still didn’t have much money even if she did know. My house was full of grandchildren; I offered her my space, but she wanted her own space.

  Now, life is strange, you know that already.

  Lily Bea was on Weldon Forest’s mind. More than he thought was natural. But, he was still a man who felt few thrills or interests. His was a good wife, though she had long taken him, and life, for granted. She thought they would both always be there. He seemed invisible at home, until she gave a dinner or gathering. His son always wanted his dad to visit him in the East. But he didn’t want to pack a suitcase just for three or four days, and he couldn’t enjoy staying any longer.

  So . . . he thought of Lily Bea. More than liking her so much; she could talk about interesting things, and she was a puzzle to him. When he thought of her, he felt just the slightest thrill-twinge in his mind and heart. Thoughts that gave him any kind of thrill or just reminded him of any thrill, were often on his mind.

  Weldon divined that Lily Bea must be terribly unhappy in the old cleaning shop. There had not been a bit of happiness in her face, or even a hint of the beauty he had seen there in the past.

  One morning Weldon decided, “I have to do something.” He called the Clean Cleaners and asked that Lily Bea be sent to pick up an order because he had a few questions to ask her about a new fabric.

  Maddy had answered the phone. He said, “Oh, don’t worry bout her, Mr. Forest. I can take care of that all right. I’ll be right on over there to see bout things.”

  Mr. Forest’s mind formed a plan without his permission or thought. He told Maddy, “Well, all right. But I am going to send a package of books to your place. I want you to give them to your . . . Lily Bea. They are about fabrics. I want her to read them. Then I want to talk to her about some new fabrics, and systems. Do you understand, Maddy? She has studied these things; she will know what I mean.”

  “Oh, yes, sir.”

  “Maddy, does Lily still do all my work orders?”

  “Yes, sir. I have taught her and she knows. I watch and see what she does. When they leave here, I know they right.” />
  “I’m sure you do. Still, I want Lily to come to my office so I can discuss some things with her. She can tell you when she returns . . . home.”

  “Yes, sir. Sure will. Thank you, sir.” They hung up. Maddy grinned, proud of his business-self. Weldon to sit back in his plush grey leather chair, thinking. Under his breath, he said to God, “I never lied once.”

  The order with two books was sent that day: one book on new European fabrics from France and Italy and their care; another on cathedrals, thick with pictures from France, Italy, and England.

  Maddy called out to Lily where she was cleaning their house. “He done sent a order of work for you and a coupl’a books for you to read. You betta read them things. We in business to make money, and he the money-man. I’ll cook my own dinner or just heat somethin up.”

  Lily Bea was drudging in the rooms behind the cleaning shop in the kitchen, which had no light of joy in it. She heard Maddy’s words and could hardly wait to see the books, but she didn’t want to appear excited to her husband. She moved into Maddy’s bedroom, hastily smoothed the covers, and turned quickly away from his bed. Maddy cared nothing for symmetry, or harmony of the furniture in the rooms. The “furniture” was mismatched pieces from secondhand stores or the dump.

  When they married he had said, “This all we need.” He laughed as if it was a pleasant joke. “These things, and us, all look the same in here in the dark: broken and used.” He always included her because he needed her ugliness to make her as crippled as he was. He never complimented her, not even on her special work. He would look over the fine work she had done and tell her, “Oh, it’s all right.” There was no joy in her life. And lately, it had reached the place where she did not know how she could continue living her life.

  Her heart grieved so much from her life, recently she had gone to her mother, Sorty. Sorty had listened, with another glass of gin in her hands, bought with the money Maddy gave her every month. Said something like, “Chile, you lucky! We all got a cross to carry, but, at least, your belly is full, and you got a man to help you carry your burden. You betta count your blessins! I wish a good man would come take care me!

  “You got to r’member, Lily Bea, you ain’t no pretty woman! I’m your mama, and I’m gon to tell you the Lord’s truth. You a ugly woman and you lucky you got any man at all!” Sorty believed these words. Both of them did.

  The morning the order arrived with the books Lily Bea had been thinking of all these things as she cleaned. “I’m so glad I don’t have a child from this man.” She tried to picture a life of love and happiness, but her mind couldn’t make the picture come alive for her. “Soon I will be old, and . . . something . . . there must be more to life than this. Life will have passed me by. Just an ugly, nobody wants, woman in this world.”

  The tears were rolling down her cheeks when Maddy called out to her about the package.

  Holding back her eagerness to run to the books, she began dusting a half-blackened mirror and, looking up, she saw herself: ugly. She sighed, saying, as she moved away, “Lord, I’d rather be alone. But how? Where? I don’t have more than a hundred dollars hidden away. And I’m not going back to my mama’s.” She began to silently cry from her heart. Her body and her heart were so lonely. So hungry and so lonely.

  She felt so disheartened her body started moving to the waves of her sorrow. A slow, swaying, dirge. Her body moved smoothly, even in the cramped space. Her eyes closed. She was thinking to herself, “My life and I are one big zero. Every day.” She prayed, “Deliver me, please God. Deliver me.”

  Maddy was jealous of Mr. Forest’s request for Lily Bea, but he respected him too much to try to deny the request. “Besides,” Maddy thought, “I am getting older, my leg givin me more trouble lately. I’ma have to let her do more round here. Let her take care me for a while! Let her see how she like that! I have a wife don’t like no lovin! So, work fool!” (He had never explained to anyone how his leg came to be crippled. He was not born with it that way. It was an angry leg and his whole face was angry with the movement of that leg. He was pitiful in his own right. But, one wondered, if he did not blame an accident? or someone else? had the fault been his own?)

  When Lily Bea came to him, Maddy said, “Mr. Forest sent this order over here to my shop, and he sent a package, a book, for you to read about how to do your work better. So if you finished cleanin and cookin, you can read it. I’ll take care the regista.”

  He gave the books to Lily. “You take these work books and go head. Study and see what he talkin bout. I’ll do this order. You forget I taught you most all you know, and I don’t need you to do everything I do.”

  I don’t have to tell you, when Lily Bea took the package of books, she felt both pleasure and importance. She made a cup of tea, and went to her pallet to settle down and read. She opened the smallest book first: the fabric systems book. It looked interesting. Then she opened the art book, and was lost for several hours in beauty, history, and dreams. She thanked Weldon Forest from her heart. Maddy didn’t pay her any attention because he wasn’t interested in books.

  The Epitome Cleaners’ order was finished in three days; the books had been read, and it was time for Lily Bea to deliver.

  When Lily arrived to see Weldon, her hair was done neatly, and she was wearing a secondhand, simple but good, dress. She was smiling and looked nearly happy. Weldon smiled down at her as he shook her hand. He held it awhile as they spoke.

  She was carrying a book in her hand she had read on the bus. Maddy hadn’t wanted the driver-man to pick her up. “Ain’t no sense in botherin that man! You can make it over there on your own!”

  Weldon Forest was, unexpectedly, nervous. After he indicated to the counterperson to take the basket, he saw the book Lily took out of it. “What is that book, Lily?”

  “Fairy tales, Mr. Forest. And I loved that book you loaned me. I loved it!”

  Weldon smiled, delighted. “Fairy tales? For a woman your age? Why do you still like fairy tales?”

  “Wishes that come true. Golden apples and carpets that can fly you to some magic land of dreams.” She smiled, and he reached out in too great a haste. Self-conscious, he was glad the book was there to sidestep being too forward. He touched her whole hand and the book.

  “Let me see it. I have read a few fairy tales in my time.” He leafed through the pages, looking at them and her.

  When he handed the book back to her, he did not release the book that she half held in her hand. He felt her presence, greater than ever. She smiled questioningly at him.

  He still held her hand as he said, “Lily, I have been thinking. I might open a little specialty shop . . . just to handle silks and delicates. Even sell a few imported things.”

  Lily pressed his hand in her hand, and let it go. “Oh! that would be nice, Mr. Forest. That will be more work for me.”

  He placed his hand on her shoulder, leading her to his simple but rich office. “Let us go into my office. I want to talk to you about this.” Lily felt fear that something was ending, and excitement that something might be beginning. When they were seated, Weldon leaned toward her, saying, “Well, you see, I had something else in mind, Lily. And call me Weldon, please, and I will keep calling you ‘Lily.’ We are . . . friends, in a way.” Lily smiled, and looked down at the floor.

  “Look up, Lily. Look at me, please. Listen, I want you to think about this. I know your . . . husband”—she frowned, and Weldon took note—“owns a cleaning business, but I wondered if you would . . . manage my new specialty shop?”

  Suddenly, Weldon looked like a piece of heaven to Lily Bea. With a surprised gasp, a glow slowly covered her face. “Mr. Forest, ahh, Weldon. I would be so happy to have a real job. Make money for myself.” She couldn’t stop herself. “Have a different life.”

  Weldon cleared his throat and said, “I know this is personal, Lily”—her glow gave him courage—“but, are you . . . happy, Lily?” He liked to say her name. “You didn’t look happy in your, ah, that shop
.”

  She took a moment before she answered. “I don’t know anything about being happy, Weldon. I only know about work. I . . . I have been wanting to leave . . . the shop, but I have nowhere . . .” She stopped, realizing she was telling this man, this almost stranger she barely knew, her secret business. “But, it is the truth,” she thought, so she continued. “I would like to be alone, for a change. I have to work, and I want to, but,”—she looked around his office, then closing her eyes, said to him, “I would like some nice things of my own. My own. Not just touch them when I clean them. Have a few things of my very own . . .”

  She opened her eyes. Weldon had leaned back, he was smiling, slightly, nodding his head slowly, and gently rocking in his chair. He lowered his head, his eyes looking directly into hers. He spoke softly but firmly, “Would you mind . . . if I helped to place a few of those things at your disposal? You would owe me nothing. Not one thing. Now or ever.” She nodded her head. “Yes.” His heart began beating happily, as he reflected, “I can tell myself I am doing a good deed for this young woman, but it is making me happy. I am really doing it for myself.”

  They discussed more of the matters their new business entailed, making outlines and notes. Mr. Forest had his secretary type them up for clarity, each taking a copy to add to or change. “In a few days, we will talk again. We’ll know how these plans are working out, and any changes we should make.”

  He wanted to shake her hand, but decided he did not want to frighten her. He leaned forward again, saying, “Well, that settles it. I have been looking at a few places, just tentatively, of course. A few places near here. Vacant business rentals are difficult to find. So, when you can, you might look them over, see what you think?” Lily was smiling, or grinning, and nodding yes to everything he said.