Caul Baby by Morgan Jerkins (read any book .TXT) 📕

was reluctant to lay Maman down on the bed because the claws that had announced themselves in the years past were now transformed into talons that stretched farther across the walls, appearing as if they were propping up Maman’s bed with their own might. But Maman grabbed on to her chair, then the edge of her desk, before reaching the bed and nonchalantly beginning to remove her clothes.

“Ma—” Josephine coughed. “How can you stay in there? Let me go get some air freshener.”

“Tried that. Ain’t no Lysol, Pine-Sol, Febreze, or Glade that can overcome the smell, so I’ve just gotten used to it. It’s not so bad.”

“Ugh.” Josephine filled up the basin with warm, soapy water in the kitchen and gathered as much air in her lungs as she could before returning to Maman’s bedroom. As Josephine placed her washcloth in the basin then rubbed over Maman’s bare arms and legs, she tried her best not look at her mother, who was sighing and sniffling, looking somewhere off into the distance with her arms folded over her chest.

“Still feeling upset, huh?” Josephine asked.

“Couldn’t shake it if I wanted to.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

Maman touched the side of Josephine’s face and smiled. “This is enough, child. This is enough.” Despite Josephine lamenting over Maman’s decline, she couldn’t help but appreciate that the weaker her mother got, the nicer she became. There were no more smacks across the face and no more verbal jabs.

When Josephine bent down to dampen the washcloth again, from the corner of her eye, she saw Maman caressing the last piece of caul on her body, right in the middle of her chest. She was thumbing around its edges with her almond-shaped fingernail, and Josephine gently grabbed ahold of that hand. “Maman, stop. Don’t do that. You know how uncomfortable that makes me feel.”

“I can’t help it, Jo. I’m in a bad way, baby. A really really bad way. One thing my people never warned me about is that the longer you stick around, the more you see everything else surrounding you die.”

“There’s still this brownstone, though. We still have it.”

“Yeah, that is true. I better call Landon soon so we can discuss potential clients. Hallow needs to get her head back in the game and focus on what’s happening here and not on other women’s messes out there.”

“I think it’s too late for that.”

“I’m sorry?”

“She’s planning on going to some town hall meeting this afternoon.”

“Town hall meeting? For what?”

“For that Asali girl, I think.”

“Aw, shit. Hurry and dry me off. Hurry, hurry.” Josephine obeyed and styled Maman in another dress and turban.

“Hallow!” Maman called out, violently coughing each time she yelled her granddaughter’s name while hobbling out of the bedroom. Josephine ran to grab Maman’s cane from the bottom of the window seat and placed it underneath Maman’s right hand.

“Yes, Maman?” Hallow leaned over the bannister.

“What’s this I hear about you going to some town hall meeting?”

Hallow cut her eyes at Josephine.

“Well, young lady? I’m talking to you.”

“Yes, I’m going. It’s right at St. Philip’s, just a little over ten blocks away, no big deal.”

“Get down here while I’m talking to you.”

Hallow sighed and trudged down the steps.

“I don’t want you going there. It’s not safe,” Maman said.

“It’s not safe to be around our own people? Do you hear yourself?”

“They are not our people, Hallow. How many times do we have to say it? We’re not like them and they’re not like us.”

“Whatever. I’m still going. I need to know what’s going on in this community, and I’ve about had it with being cooped up in here all my life. You’re not gonna have me like her.” Hallow pointed her chin at Josephine and crossed her arms across her chest.

“How dare you talk to me like that?” Josephine said. “After all I’ve done for you?”

“I am going, y’all, and your cane or your words are not gonna stop me.”

Maman swung at Hallow’s face with the intent to strike her but missed completely and fell onto the floor. Josephine was in a stupor after what just happened. She recalled the memory of Hallow as a baby in her arms, where, just a few feet away, she was tempted to leave out the front door and never come back, only to be slapped onto the same floor where Maman now scrambled to get to her feet. She oscillated between being proud and envious over Hallow forging the independence that had eluded her for her entire life. When Josephine returned to the present, she realized that Maman had been calling her name over and over again to help her to her feet.

Hallow walked toward the front door and pivoted on her right heel to watch the two women regain balance by leaning on the adjacent wall.

“I have a question: What happened to the spearheads outside?”

“What are you talkin’ ’bout, girl?” Maman said.

“The spearheads. There are red marks all over them if you chip away. Why is that?”

“What?” Josephine asked.

“Forget it. I’ll be back later. Call me on my cell if you need me.”

The frigid wind almost knocked Hallow over from the moment she stepped out onto the front porch. She pulled the drawstring of her hoodie and breathed into her palms, surveying the area to see if anyone was walking down the block, but it was far too cold for anyone to be taking a leisurely stroll. She pivoted again on her right heel to see if either Josephine or Maman would snatch her back inside, but when no one came for her, she felt foolish for not having walked out the door sooner. The last time she remembered leaving the Melancon brownstone by herself was four years ago when she had to bring Josephine something from their home to the bodega. There was still an hour and a half left before the town hall meeting would begin, and since the new Starbucks was on the way, she decided to sit there and