Mobile
Page 2 of 4
"The downtown has gone to pot," Mrs. Turner screamed, and pulled her mauve tunic close around her. "I don't know how on earth they stay in business." She pointed to the Afro wigs on display, her head shaking back and forth. She had the habit of constantly removing her glasses and letting them swing on the rhinestone-flecked chain around her neck while she cleaned the lenses again and again with a little wadded-up piece of tissue, a nervous habit, I suspected, for she had already confessed to being "scared of the coloreds," her fear being that "they are taking over the town; give them an inch and they'll take a mile." My father called Edith Turner the paranoid image of Theresa Poole. Fortunately, the parade was too crowded for Mrs. Poole's Adirondack, and instead she sat up in the manager's office in Woolworth and looked to the street below.
"What's it like at the schoolhouse? Hmmmm? Problems with them?" I realized that she was talking to me. "I said I bet they cause trouble there at the schoolhouse, taking over, using double negatives." I just stared at her not knowing what to say. "I do declare if your face hasn't improved. I would swear that place has gotten smaller or paler or something." She looked at my mother and nodded and then continued without even taking a breath. "And those children from out in the country" -- she cleaned her lenses, peeked through, and then cleaned them again -- "bad. I hear they are so bad. The filthy language. Filth."
"It's bad, the language is awful, just awful," Misty said, and nudged me right as Todd Bridger and some of the other boys from our class stepped into the crowd on the other side of the street. I kept losing sight of him while Mrs. Turner and my mother discussed how important it was to line a commode seat with toilet paper before sitting on it. Mrs. Turner said it was especially important at places like the movie theaters where they no longer had a separate bathroom for the coloreds.
"Is she stupid or what?" Misty asked, and then she was waving and calling out to Dean, who was on the other side of the street. I just stared straight ahead, concentrating on the huge bare tree limbs and the bright blue sky, and the little stone man down at the end of the block where the parade would circle onto the next street. The crisp wind stung my face and gave me a good excuse to put my gloves against my cheeks. "The language is filthy," Misty whispered in mimic. "What a stupid old bitch."
I saw Perry Loomis like a flash over the other side of the street, and it was like she was looking right at me. One day I had said hello to her in the hall, and she had looked surprised, as if to ask who did I think I was, speaking to her. She had quickly nodded and then hurried past, her books up to her chest. Now I saw her face in and out of the crowd, the boys from my class not far from where she was. I looked past the float with what was supposed to look like the nativity but instead looked like some hippies in a barnyard; I had decided that I would speak to Perry again if I got the chance, even with Misty right there beside me. The high school drama students who were manning the float had live animals, and now Joseph had thrown down his walking stick and was wrestling a sheep who was butting the chicken wire that enclosed the flatbed trailer.
Once the animals were under control, and Santa finally passed, the crowd thinned. Children ran through an alley to catch the parade going back the other way. Again I saw Perry, now turning away from the curb and walking toward the corner. She was wearing a light blue carcoat that for the world looked like the one I had outgrown, and she had a little baby propped up on her hip like a grocery bag. I had once overheard Todd Bridger say that Perry's mama was never at home and they could do as they pleased as long as Perry cooked supper and changed her little brother's diaper. I lifted my hand when I thought she was looking but instead I got the same blank stare she had given me in the hall that day. Todd and some of the other boys were standing around her, but she seemed uninterested as she shifted the child from hip to hip, turning to smile as if she were paying attention to what they were saying, though she looked as if her thoughts were miles and miles away. It hardly seemed fair that anyone should be so pretty, with such thick wavy hair and large dark eyes.
Latest in Cover
Calendar
-
UniverSoul Circus @ Ver El Mobile Village
- Fri., May 9, 7 p.m., Sat., May 10, 12, 3:30 & 7:30 p.m., Sun., May 11, 12, 3 & 6:30 p.m., Thu., May 15, 7 p.m., Fri., May 16, 7 p.m., Sat., May 17, 12, 3:30 & 7:30 p.m. and Sun., May 18, 12, 3 & 6:30 p.m.
-
-
Improv Game Night @ CATCh
- Fri., May 9, 7:30-9 p.m. and Sat., May 24, 7:30-9 p.m.
-
-
200 Hour Yoga Teacher Training in Rishikesh India @ Arogya Yoga School
- First Monday-Sunday of every month, 7 a.m.-7 p.m. Continues through April 25
-
-
Coveted Luxury Watches
- Mondays-Fridays, 9 a.m.-6 p.m. Continues through Dec. 30
-
-
AllMachines - Forklifts
- Through Dec. 30, 12-6 p.m.
-
-
Fall Arts Calendar
-
Beauty Industry Trends To Look Out For In Charlotte In 2022
-
Blowing smoke with the founder of Stoned Media Group
Charlotte-based startup mixes 'canabusiness' with pleasure
