Foreign Soil by Maxine Beneba Clarke

Author:Maxine Beneba Clarke
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria / 37 Ink

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Delores take the lid off the blue bucket, tip the small glass jars-a nail varnish out onto the couch. They clink gainst each other as they tumble: reds, yellows, greens, purples. Some-a the jars unopened, plastic still ringin’ the lids, waitin’ for they Beauty Day debut. Ten years she been workin’ on this collection. Long as she got the dollars in her pocket she buy up a new shade every time she stumble on one. Got glitter polish, glow in the dark, even press-on silver stars she bought five years ago on vacation in Las Vegas. Her collection prove handy for the performers, come carnival time.

“Perfect day for it.” She turn to Ella. “Heat like this, our varnish gon dry in no time at all.”

Ella don’t answer. She miles way. All the excitement done disappear an she look like she sulkin’ or somethin’: her bottom lip pokin’ out so far it’s damn near draggin’ on the polished wood floor. “Delores,” she say, “I just still can’t believe you not gon go check on Izzy’s boy. After how long you known each other? An you damn know that boy got no one out there that understand him.”

“Chile, I don’t wanna hear nother word of it. There jus some things y’all li’l ones can’t understand. You gotta take my word for it.” Delores don’t often hold things back from Ella. Fact, she can’t remember the last time she properly did, but the goddamn chile won’t let up. “Y’all gon choose a color, or what?”

“Bet Carter’d love our Beauty Days an all.”

“Ella! Quiet yourself!” Delores ain’t mean to raise her voice. Sounded so much harsher than she intend.

“Y’all cryin’, Delores?” Ella’s lookin’ at her now, starin’ real close, worried.

“I’m sorry, Ella. I think maybe we should go on an cancel our Beauty Day today. I got a lotta sewin’ to do for the carnival an I ain’t gon be able to pay my rent less I got the costume work all done.” Delores get up from the couch so the chile can’t see her face but Ella follow her, cranin’ her neck to see if she really upset, touchin’ her arm.

Been years since her days in Newmarket came to Delores like this, so clear an unforgivin’. She can smell the dry rot-a the wooden house, hear the sassafras out front rustlin’. Can taste Izzy’s pie—the one she always got to makin’ for her an Jackson from the mulberry tree cross the way. Back fore Delores properly existed. Back when Delores were still Denver, an Denver were still Izzy’s husband.

Denver an Izzy been married nine years an already had Jackson by the time Izzy found out bout Delores. Delores can’t even remember Denver clear now. Not how it felt to be him. Not every day carryin’ that brawn, or that clumsiness—not the men’s jeans an bulky shirts, the furry all-over hair. In Delores’s memory, Denver jus facts, jus details. Not a man an a body that actually used-a be her.

Denver work in senior operations at the meat plant.

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