A Special Relationship (13 page)

 
“Excuse me,” a voice said and she turned to find an obese woman with a wide, smiling face and small, cat eyes, in the seat just behind her.

 
“Yes?”

 
“You Mona’s sister, ain’t you?”

 
Carrie hesitated.
 
She was still trying to get used to Popena’s “stage” name.
 
“Yes,” she said.

 
The woman smiled even greater.
 
“I’m Millie Rawlings.
 
I live downstairs from y’all.”
 
Before Carrie could say a word, the woman grabbed her large pocketbook and moved up and sat next to Carrie. She was an older woman, maybe as old as forty, and her big bulk caused her to grunt when she sat down.

 
 
“You just getting off work?” she asked Carrie.
 
“ I
am too.
 
I work at Jetson’s.
 
You ever hear tell of Jetson’s?
 
It’s one of the nicest restaurants in town, yes it is.
 
Where you work?”
 
She said this as she looked at Carrie’s sweatshirt.
 
“
Myers Cleaning Service
.
 
I heard of y’all.
 
A man name Willie Charles supervise
the night crew, don’t he?”

 
“Yes,” Carrie said.
 
Don’t remind her, she wanted to say.

 
“I don’t care for him at all.”

 
Carrie looked at her.
 
“You don’t?”

 
“I sure don’t.
 
He ain’t my cup of tea.
 
Too fresh for me.”

 
Carrie smiled.
 
“My name is Carrie,” she said.
 
“Carrie Banks.”

 
“You ain’t from around here, are you, Carrie?”

 
“Nope.
 
I’m from Georgia.”

 
“Georgia?
 
Girl, me too.
 
As if you couldn’t tell by my country behind.
 
What part?”

 
“Attapulgus.
 
It’s just outside of Bainbridge.”

 
“Now you ain’t got to tell me where no Attapulgus at.
 
I’m from Clarkston, child, so you know I know where Attapulgus at.”

 
Carrie laughed.
 
“Yeah, your town isn’t much bigger than mine.”

 
“Except we got a hospital.”

 
“Okay.”

 
“And don’t you worry about being the country girl around here.
 
You gonna find real quick that many of these folks ‘round Jacksonville hail from Georgia or other down home places like that.”
 

 
“Is that right?”

 
“Goodness yes.
 
They be trying to act like they don’t know what a backwater is, but they know better than you and me.
 
What church you go to?
 
You are a Christian, right?”

 
Carrie had to hesitate to slow Millie down.
 
Then she nodded.
 
“Yes, I am.
 
But I just got in town yesterday.
 
I haven’t had a chance to look for a church yet.”

 
“Good.
 
You can come to mine.
 
It’s just around the corner from Dresel Street, on Phoenix.
 
Right in walking distance.
 
You’ll love it.”

 
Carrie thanked her, telling her how she aimed to take her up on her offer, then silence ensued.
 
Carrie began once again looking out of the window while Millie continued to look at her.
 
Finally, Millie spoke again.
 
“Okay,” she said.
 
“What else is bothering you?”

 
Carrie looked down,
then
she looked at Millie.
 
The look in her eyes, it seemed to Millie, said it all.
 
“This new town, new life, ain’t been what you thought it was gonna be, has it, Carrie?”

 
Carrie shook her head.
 
“It hasn’t been anything like I thought it would be.”

 
“God is able, girl.
 
Don’t you worry about a
thing.
 
It’ll get better for you.
 
It’ll get better before it gets worse.”

 
“It can’t get much worse.
 
I got fired tonight.”

 
Millie’s small eyes suddenly widened with surprise.
 
“Fired?” she said.
 
“What happened?”

 
“Willie Charles was trying to get fresh with me and I just didn’t wanna have anything to do with that.”

 
Millie shook her head.
 
“That’s a shame.
 
That man oughta be ashamed of hisself.
 
And because you wouldn’t fool around with him he out-and-out fired you?”

 
“He didn’t come out and say it, but I couldn’t work under those conditions.”

 
“‘Course not.
 
You can report him, you know, maybe get
his
butt fired.”

 
Carrie quickly shook her head.
 
“No.
 
I’ll just find me another job, that’s all.”

 
 
“You better than me, girl,” Millie said, “‘cause if that was me?
 
Hun!
 
I’ll tell his boss and anybody else willing to listen.
 
Let him know he picked the wrong one to mess with this time.”

 
Carrie didn’t say anything.
 
She knew she should do exactly as Millie was suggesting
,
if for no other reason than to help other female employees who had to cross his path.
 
But she just couldn’t muster the energy for that kind of fight.
 
All she wanted was a job, a place of her own,
a
chance to make a start in life.
 
She was twenty-four years old and was tired of
setbacks,
tired of putting her needs on hold for the sake of others when they never appreciated it anyway, tired of fighting other people’s battles when she couldn’t even fight her own.
 
This sorry excuse for a life was all she had now.
 
There was nothing back in Georgia.
 
This was it.

 
The bus stopped on Phoenix Avenue and Carrie and Millie made the block-long walk to Dresel Street together.
 
Night out on the east side was busy, as the juke joints and pool halls and chicken shacks and rib joints were lively with in and out activity all along the avenue.
 
Drug dealers and prostitutes worked hard for attention too, and every time one came Millie’s way she didn’t hesitate to voice her displeasure.
 
“If I die, I die,” she said when Carrie suggested that it might be better to leave those types alone.
 
“But right still right and
they
still wrong.
 
God is still runnin’ this show!”

 
Carrie smiled.
 
She’d never met anybody quite like Millie Rawlings.
 

 
But by the time they made it to their apartment building in the heart of Dresel Street, and the loud, raunchy rap music coming from Popena’s apartment could be heard even over the loudness in the streets, that smile Carrie once displayed sunk downward.
 
And reality struck.
 

 
Millie saw the change in Carrie and stopped her before she could climb the stairs to her sister’s apartment.
 
“Would you like to come in for a spell, Carrie?” she asked her.
  
“Greg, that’s my old man, he ain’t due home for another few hours.
 
He
work
over at that rib joint on Twenty-First.
 
But he wouldn’t mind you
visiting
anyhow.”

 
“Thanks, Millie,” Carrie said, touching her extended hand of kindness, “but I think I’ll just go on to bed.”

 
“With all that noise goin’ on?”

 
“It’s okay.”

 
“I used to complain to Mona to stop playing that sinful music so loud, but she wasn’t stuttin’ me.
 
Tried to cuss me out a time or two, yes she did.
 
That sister of yours something else now.
 
And spiteful, Lordy be.
 
Hateful with it too.
 
You better watch that one.”

 
“She’s been through a lot in her life,” Carrie said, feeling a need to defend her sister.
 
“But she’s always had a big heart.”

 
“A big heart?
 
Mona Banks?
 
You sure we talking about the same person?”

 
“Goodnight, Millie,” Carrie said, not about to get into it with a sweet person like her.
 
She, instead, walked on upstairs to Popena’s apartment and entered a dwelling that had the feel of a loud, smoke-filled juke joint rather than a place of refuge.

 
Mona wasn’t rowdy, however, as Carrie had expected, but was smoking a joint and chilling on her filthy sofa with a big, muscular man she introduced as Dooney Wallace.
 
“And why you back so soon?” she yelled to her kid sister over the loud music.

 
“I’m not working there anymore,” Carrie yelled back over the music, believing it best to be honest up front.

 
“Not working there?
 
Willie Charles fired you?”

 
“Yes.
 
I mean, not really.
 
Not exactly.
 
I’m just not working there anymore.”

 
“You mean to tell me you quit?
 
You quit a job?
 
I know better than that!
 
How you gon’ pay rent, Carrie?
 
How you gon’ pull your own weight around here?
 
I ain’t taking care of you!”

 
“I know that, Po. . . I know that.
 
I’ll find another job, don’t worry.”

 
“You better find it quick.
 
Ain’t no free rides ‘round here.
 
I don’t play that crap.
 
Ain’t nobody gonna be free loadin’ off of me!”

 
Carrie sighed in anguish and walked into the adjourning kitchen to get
herself
a glass of water.
 
The music was deafening to her ears and she couldn’t wait to get into her bedroom, a room she hated, but at least had a door that locked.
 
She knew she had to do some serious praying tonight.
 
She had to make it in Florida.
 
She had to.
 
She had no-where else to go.

 
Dooney was busy nodding his head to the beat of a Ludacris rap, but he also couldn’t take his eyes off of Carrie.
 
“Your kid sister you say?” he asked Mona.

 
“Yeah.”

 
“How old is she?”

 
Mona looked at Dooney.
 
She knew full well the affect Carrie always seemed to have on men, but she didn’t like for a second that it was her man that was being affected.
 
“What’s it to you, Dooney?” she asked him.