My Mama Told Me by Sade C. Morrison

Author:Sade C. Morrison [Morrison, Sade C.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Drama & Plays, Dramas & Plays, United States, African American, Literature & Fiction, Women's Fiction
ISBN: 1478152109
Amazon: B007WEX8EC
Publisher: Story Marketplace Publishing
Published: 2013-12-10T05:00:00+00:00

Gloria

TEN

July 29, 1980

I held down Naomi’s shoulders with my palms. She wouldn’t sit still for the pressing comb. She kept sliding around in her chair every time she felt the slightest heat.

“You know I’m not gonna let you leave the house with your head as nappy as it is.” I parted her hair and put some “Blue Magic” hair oil on her scalp.

“It’s too hot for this, Mama,” she sighed.

She was right. It was only ten o’clock and it was already eighty-five degrees. Anthony came into the kitchen and poured a full cup of coffee into his Harley Davidson mug. He swore that he was gonna buy one of those stupid motorcycles. Over my dead body! Those things were too dangerous. Accident machines!

“I wanna wear my hair like Daddy’s.” Naomi pointed at Anthony’s short Afro.

“If you were a little boy, I’d let you. But that style don’t look right on girls.”

He smiled. “You look so pretty when your mama does your hair. And when you get back from the church picnic, I’ll take you for some ice cream.”

“I don’t want ice cream,” Naomi said. “I want a Popsicle!”

“Okay. Whatever you want, little lady.”

“Ooochh!” Naomi shouted from the heat of the pressing comb.

“Watch it or you’ll get burned.” I shook my head at Anthony. “You need to quit spoiling her so.”

“Huh?” He looked up from his cup.

“I said, you need to quit spoiling her so!” I used the hot comb on the edges of Naomi’s kitchen. The little naps along the nape of her neck straightened with a few strokes.

“If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll take you too. All three of us, it’ll be fun.”

“Or maybe I can make some ice cream. Sweet Pea got a good recipe for butter pecan.”

“I told you I didn’t want ice cream!” Naomi huffed. She was truly testing me. At seven years old, she had the nerve to say anything that came to mind. I came from a generation where children were seen and not heard.

“Young lady, watch your tone,” I warned her. “I won’t allow you to be disrespectful. I’m your mother.”

“How is it disrespect just because I don’t want ice cream?”

Anthony knelt down so that he was eye-level with Naomi. “Be a good girl today and we’ll all do something fun later. Okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

He kissed her forehead. Then, he hugged me from behind. “Hey, I gotta go. Y’all have fun today. I wish I was going to Belle Isle.”

“Why don’t you come with us, Daddy?”

“Sorry, little lady. I’ll go next time.”

“But the next time isn’t until next year.”

“I can’t because Daddy has to go to work today. But we’ll all do something later, little lady.”

He left out of the side door.

By the time I finished Naomi’s hair, I had sweat stains under the armpits and in the middle of my back. I told her to pick out some barrettes while I went upstairs to change into another sundress.

When I came back down, Naomi was sitting on the floor, leaning into the TV screen.

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