Chapter 41

We slept the sleep of the righteous and only got up because I had to go to work. Angela was a trooper about going everywhere I went, but on those rare occasions, like when Othneal and I went for walks, she was alone in the tenement. Once safely inside the Polish grocery, Angela told me she had a visit from Carmen earlier in the evening, while I was out with Othneal. She apparently reiterated her desire to have sex with Angela, and me too.

"She was almost naked, and she smelled like she'd been smoking marijuana and masturbating for about a week straight. It was strong and unpleasant. I was in our room, changing the sheets when she tapped on the door and came in. Her boobs were completely out of her blouse, because she cut the neck open so big, that she bounced out whenever she moved.

"Carmen was stoned. She had one hand on the door frame and the other between her legs, trying to entice me, I think. It wasn't sexy. It was gross.

"She took her hand out of her crotch and licked each finger, while telling me how wet I made her, and how much she craved getting her mouth between my legs. I didn't know what to do, or say, or if I should run, She was so spacey I was afraid she might just hold me down and rape me. It was that creepy.

"It would have been worse, but someone called her from the big room, and she stuck two fingers inside herself, and rubbed them on my cheek before she left. I couldn't wait to wash, and that's why I was so anxious to get you alone, but your news was so important, we didn't get to talk about it until now."

Angela was almost out of breath, reliving the whole Carmen thing. "If Othneal wants to take any more walks, he is going to have to put up with it being both of us, with him, because I'm not letting you be alone with her, again."

Angela held me and I told her about the old man, and the gangbangers, as well as Othneal's disclosures. "It's a good thing that the Judge's people had it all recorded, because this thing might get very weird, really fast. We might have to make run for it, just before the cavalry comes to take them all down, so be ready if it comes to that."

I wanted her prepared for whatever might come, and she was such a trooper, I knew I could count on her if necessary.

Marta was in fine form when we arrived, which meant she was screaming in a combination of languages, one of which sounded remarkably like Hebrew, at her husband because he over slept and they were falling behind, so I dove in and worked like I meant it to help get the ship righted, before Harold ended up with a meat clever for a part in his hair.

When things settled down, I overheard Angela ask Marta why they yelled at each other so much. I immediately thought, 'This I gotta hear, ' and worked my way closer.

Marta's hard exterior softened dramatically as she contemplated her answer. She was about seventy, and as round as she was wide. It was very hard to imagine her as young woman, courting a young man, but I tried to see her that way, while she said, "You youngsters got married way young like Harold and me. We were young like you, only I was thirteen, almost fourteen, and Harold was the baker's son.

"We met because my father and Harold's mother loved to 'comfort' each other, as they were both widows. My mother die in childbirth, with my brother Abraham, and Harold's mother would send him to fetch the baker for one reason, or another. Harold's father would drop everything and run like a bull over to Harold's mother and they would close the doors, and pull the draperies, so they could 'comfort' each other.

"One day Harold say to me, 'Let's go see what our folks getting up about, and we walked to their house. Harold and me, quiet like teeny mice, tip toe to the door and we see my father on top of Harold's mother and she squealing like the little piggy we used to chase around the back yard. They so busy with each other, they never see us, and Harold made a finger sign and I followed him upstairs to his little sleep room.

"Harold look at me and say, 'You know what they be doing, right?' I was young but not so dumb I don't know sex when I see it, so I say, 'Yes. They were making sex together.' Harold laugh and says to me, 'You know we can do that too.'

"I say, 'I gotta think about that, ' but Harold got another think. He unbutton the front of my dress, take my little puppy in his hand and start to squeeze, real gentle, not like my father was squeezing Harold's mother. It felt really good – fine, and he kisses me on my mouth, just like they were doing while we watch them.

"Harold got him a good tongue. It did the good work, and pretty soon he got my dress all the way off, and as it fall to the floor, I couldn't stop thinking, 'What are you DOING, Girl? Your Daddy gonna take a belt and beat you to the moon if he catches what's going on up here, ' but before I think to tell him to stop, he put his thing right in mine, and we're suddenly doing the same thing exact as hour parents.

"I doubt my father hurt his mother like Harold was hurting me, but pretty soon I gotta admit this thing not so bad. Then all at once everything in the whole world is explosioning inside me. We had the shooting soldiers one time, and they run around firing off guns, and bombs, and I swear I saw the bomb lighting going off when Harold started making the mess inside me.

"Just as it went away, I look up and Harold's mother and my father are watching us. They didn't put on no clothes or nothing, when they came to see the racket we were making, and when I looked at my father naked, he just smile and say to Harold's mom, 'I think we gonna be move in together, and forget all this sneaking in and over.'

"Harold and his mother move in our house that night, and Harold move into my room and we make the same bed together until the Priest come and make us marry. I tell you what, little missy, our lives was a lot better off when we were four people, one house, than when we were two people, each house. Things were much worse for everybody then. We were really poor. My Papa he make the good breads and sweet things for all over town, but you can't make much money on flour and a little sugar. We always poor and Harold's mother took washing and sewing to keep their house." Her eyes showed every one of her seventy some years, and I could hear it in her words. Going back to the beginning might be comforting, but it was tiresome for the old woman.