Ordinary Beauty by Wiess Laura

Author:Wiess, Laura [Wiess, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: MTV Books
Published: 2011-06-14T00:00:00+00:00

The Tragedy That Birthed a Miracle

WHEN MY MOTHER AND I WALKED to the mission the next morning for breakfast, there was a big pile of flowers and teddy bears and candles placed near the front door, but it wasn’t until we got closer that I could see the familiar, smiling face staring out of the framed picture at the heart of the tribute.

“That’s Miss Mo,” I exclaimed, stopping in front of it and staring up at my mother. For a moment my brain refused to process what this meant, and translated the little Madonna statues and sympathy balloons into birthday tributes. “We didn’t bring her a present!”

My mother looked at me funny, pulled the door open, and said, “Come on, let’s go see what’s up.”

I followed her, not really getting what she meant—or maybe I did, but just couldn’t bear to acknowledge it—although once inside with the people talking, crying, and praying all around us, everything became clear.

Miss Mo had been murdered last night in her carport.

Stabbed by Mareene’s ex-boyfriend.

Mareene had found her.

The cops had arrested Harlow Maltese, who was splattered with Miss Mo’s blood and still had the knife on him.

Mareene was a basket case, and her father was flying in from Georgia to stay with her.

The wake would be in two days, the funeral service out of Holy Mercy Baptist Church, and the burial at Holy Mercy cemetery.

Somehow my bewildered brain let me hear it and make sense of it all, but not feel it. Miss Mo was dead, but that fact hung somewhere out ahead of me like a distant, neon sign and it stayed that way until the other volunteer ladies went back behind the counter to begin serving breakfast. We all got in line, but when I got to Miss Mo’s spot it was empty and the pan that she always gave me scrambled eggs from was empty and her fun, red-striped apron hung limp on the hook and all of a sudden I wasn’t hungry anymore so I got out of line, and dizzy, with knees like water, walked out the door to the tribute and sat down on the sidewalk in front of her picture, just sat and stared into her wonderful eyes until my mother finally came out and found me.

“Did you eat?” she said.

“No,” I said, pushing myself up off the ground and dusting my hands on my jeans. “We have to go to the wake.”

And she must have seen something in my face because she didn’t argue, only said, “It starts Wednesday afternoon,” and walked quietly beside me all the way back to the motor court.

We went down to the Methodist church on Tuesday because they’d had a clothing drive for the needy and my mother found me a pair of navy blue pants and a plain white top with crocheted lace around the edge of the sleeves, and a black pin-striped pants suit and a cream-colored V-neck blouse for herself. She found black high heels, too, and I got a pair of decent running shoes.

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