God Don't Like Ugly. Mary Monroe

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СКАЧАТЬ with the school’s only four Hispanic kids at a table in the back of the cafeteria. Near the Black kids, Rhoda was sitting at a front table alone reading Ebony magazine. I was sitting at another table halfway between the white kids and us across the room by myself.

      I don’t know how I got up enough nerve, but I decided to take my tray and go over to her. Most of the food on her tray had not even been touched! I didn’t know what to say to her. I took a deep breath, walked across the room to the table by the exit where she was sitting, and said, “Can I have your French fries?” I sat down across from her.

      “Sure.” She smiled. She sighed and pushed her tray toward me, then returned her attention to the magazine. “Annette, right?” she asked, not looking up.

      “Yep! Just like the white girl from the Mickey Mouse Club on TV,” I told her. She didn’t look at me again until I let out a belch that could be heard halfway across the room. “Excuse me,” I mumbled, my face burning with embarrassment. Black kids and white kids snickered and glared at me. I had eaten the French fries in record time. I was horrified at my behavior.

      “Are you still hungry? If you are, I’ll go get you some more,” she told me.

      “Yeah,” I mumbled. “With ketchup.”

      “Can I watch you eat them?” she asked softly. Our eyes met for a moment. She seemed to be studying me. Suddenly, I felt like the main attraction in a circus sideshow.

      “What? Why do you want to watch me eat some French fries?” I wanted to know.

      “I’ve never seen anybody enjoy food like you,” she said, an incredulous look on her face. “You finished those fries in less than a minute.”

      “Um…did I? Uh…don’t you eat fries?” I asked.

      “Every once in a while. I have to watch my weight. Besides, the fries here are sometimes so greasy I wouldn’t feed them to a hog I don’t like.”

      The fries suddenly lost their appeal, as did everything else edible.

      “Yeah. They are greasy. And I am kind of full,” I muttered. “But, you can go get me some candy bars, if you don’t mind.”

      “Oh, you like candy too?”

      “Uh-huh.”

      “Ooh. I know how to make this real good candy with molasses and peanuts. One day I’ll make you some, huh?”

      “Yeah!” I tried to conceal my excitement. I was liking this girl more and more.

      “I’ll go get you some M&Ms for now. You like them?”

      “Oh yes. I like them a whole lot,” I admitted. “Hurry up,” I urged. To my surprise, she seemed as excited as I was! She gave me that smile again, then excused herself.

      The next day I attempted to copy Rhoda’s answers on a history test. I sat one desk behind her in the next row. She saw me and rolled her eyes at me in such an evil way I shuddered. I hadn’t seen anybody roll their eyes that hard since I left Florida. I lowered my head and started tapping my pencil on my desk.

      I felt pretty low by the time I arrived home that evening. Mama had left a note saying that she wouldn’t be home until after 10 P.M. and that I’d better do anything Mr. Boatwright told me to do. Pee Wee was already in our living room with Mr. Boatwright, gossiping away.

      Minutes after Pee Wee left, Mr. Boatwright was on top of me on the living-room floor. All the while I lay under him, I was thinking about Rhoda. I wondered what she was really like. The next moment, a strange feeling consumed me. I had developed my first crush: I was in love with Rhoda.

      “How come you so flexible this time?” Mr. Boatwright wanted to know, grinning proudly. “Seem like you finally gettin’ the hang of things, praise the Lord.”

      We had dressed, and I was helping him back to the couch.

      “I had somebody on my mind,” I told him. My boldness surprised me. “Somebody who likes me…”

      “Well.” He paused, and tilted his head, beaming proudly. “I guess I still got it, huh?” He let out his breath and slapped his hands on his hips.

      I sat down on the arm of the couch and stared at him in disbelief. “Uh…no, not you. The pretty girl across the street. The undertaker’s daughter.” I wondered what it would be like to hug her and kiss her the way Mr. Boatwright hugged and kissed me.

      “Rhoda?” A sad look appeared on his face. He was clearly disappointed.

      “Uh-huh. She’s real nice to me. One time she gave me her French fries at lunch and went and bought me some M&Ms. She said me and her and Pee Wee can study sometime.”

      Mr. Boatwright gasped. “What—now why would a gal like that want to hang around with a booger like you? That little heifer think she white anyway!” His comments hurt me severely.

      “She’s a nice girl, and I think she likes me,” I told him. “I think she wants to be my friend.” I smiled; he frowned. “My first real girlfriend,” I added, still smiling.

      The scowl on his face became so profound, his mouth looked like it had been turned upside down and his eyebrows seemed to protrude. “That whole uppity Nelson family ain’t nothin’ but a generation of vipers, girl. With they no-pork-eatin’ selves! When they shit it stink just as pooty as ours—probably worse!”

      “I don’t care what you say—”

      “You sassin’ me?” It was hard to believe, but the scowl on his face got even worse. He drew back to slap me.

      “No sir,” I whimpered, with my head bowed submissively.

      “Now. Let’s find the TV Guide,” he said, almost cheerfully. His scowl suddenly disappeared, and he looked like his old self, which was still bad, but not nearly as threatening.

      Later that night, just before Mama got home, Mr. Boatwright came to my room and dropped his evil body onto my bed right next to me and started rocking and humming “Hush Little Baby.”

      “Mr. Boatwright,” I began.

      He turned to face me, still rocking my bed and humming.

      “Mr. Boatwright, why do you keep doing what you do to me after all these years?” I asked. I had caught him off guard.

      “What you mean?” He gasped and stood, his narrowed eyes darting from side to side.

      “You know I read a lot of books.”

      “And that’s another thing, you and all them books. Gibberish! Worldly! I can smell the brimstone. Everything you need to know in the Bible, girl.”

      “I’ve learned a lot from books other than the Bible. Things I really need to know. I know that what you do to me is wrong,” I said calmly. I think the fact that I didn’t raise my voice or seem mad made him even angrier. If looks could kill, I’d have dropped dead on the spot right then and there. I had never seen him look at me in such a mean way.

      “You mean what we do.”

      “But СКАЧАТЬ