No Pockets in a Shroud by Maxine Thompson

Author:Maxine Thompson [Thompson, Maxine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, United States, African American, Women's Fiction, Teen & Young Adult
Amazon: B00LUF9FGY
Publisher: Black Butterfly Press
Published: 2014-07-15T04:00:00+00:00

15

“Did y’all hear on the news yesterday about these white cemetery owners who want to dig up a dead baby because they found out the father was black?”

“You lying?”

“No. Here we are, about to enter the twenty-first century, and racism is just as bad as ever.”

“This white-black thing is never going to end.”

“Ummm, ummm, ummm.”

“That’s too much sugar for a dime.”

Everyone shook their head in resignation.

“Well, this book I’m reading here is something else, too. It’s talking about a love triangle between a man, his wife, and the husband’s male lover.”

“Sister girl, let me see that book.”

The hairdresser, Rasheeda, had to have the last say on this matter.

“I don’t care if your ass is gay. But at least tell my ass before you start trying to go with me. Those the men you have to watch. The Double-o-Sevens.”

“What’s that, Rasheeda?”

“The ones leading a double life.”

“I heard that.”

“Girl, that’s some scary stuff. ‘Specially with all this AIDS out here.”

“Yeah, you’ve got to be careful.”

“Ain’t it the truth?”

“My mother’s cousin was married for thirty years to her husband. Then, one day he just announced he didn’t want to be married anymore. That he wanted to go with men.”

“And what happened?”

“He left. At least he did claim that he had never been with any men while he was with her. But she was devastated.”

“I know that’s right.”

“Girl, my mother’s cousin hasn’t been right in the head since.”

“I guess it’s something to wake up and find out your whole life has been a lie.”

Was she living a lie? Nefertiti pondered her situation.

Here she was, married to what appeared to be a successful white-looking man. But what was wrong with this picture? Hadn’t she been told to forget the past? Now, she even wondered about that lost link in her family. Her father had forgotten the past so successfully that she—his daughter—didn’t even know her paternal grandfather’s name. And look at Miss Magg. She acted as though she never wanted to find her mother, Betty Lee. Well, that was them. Those were their parents. People they never chose for their parents. But this was her child. Who didn’t ask to be born. She had to do something. But where would she begin her own search? Would she be able to find her daughter? Nefertiti had only planned a cursory search before. Now, she was determined, she’d find her. Oh, God, let her be all right.

When Nefertiti was through having her hair done, she smiled into the mirror. Pulled up into an upsweep, the dreads looked more like a crown of braids. While looking in the mirror, Nefertiti felt someone staring at her. She looked around the shop. There were only four other women waiting now. Nefertiti could swear this one girl, a young woman, about in her early twenties, had been staring at her.

When Nefertiti gained eye contact, the woman dropped her eyes, as if she was reading a magazine. Maybe she’d thought that she knew Nefertiti from somewhere. Nefertiti often had that happen to her.

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