Death of Innocence : The Story of the Hate Crime That Changed America (9781588363244) by Jesse Rev (FRW) Christopher; Jackson Mamie; Benson Till-Mobley Page B
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on him again if I ever needed him, the way a daughter might need to call upon her father. While we never talked about what had come between us, I appreciate all that we did have a chance to say, and, of course, the message in between all the words we spoke.
Thanks to my father’s help, Emmett and I moved into another house with another family, the Harrises, an older woman, her husband, and another relative. They rolled out the welcome mat, and they gave me the front room for a bedroom, the best room in the house. And they fell in love with my boy. They just went crazy over Emmett. There were no children in the house and Mr. Harris practically adopted my son. He just took him away from me. On Saturdays they always had somewhere to go: the circus, the movies, a ball game, from early in the morning until late in the afternoon. Of course, that meant that Bo couldn’t do much for me. Not that there was much that he could do anyway, but he was starting to channel his energy, make a contribution around the house. For one thing, he was learning how to cook and that was a big help to me when I’d come home from a long day, bone tired. But there would be more surprises from this industrious little boy.
One day I came home from work and both women were sitting in the kitchen. It was like they were watching a performance. In a way, they were. I wound up joining them.
Bo was in the pantry working. The first day, when we’d moved in, Bo and I noticed immediately that the Harrises had a roach problem. It was a big problem. Bigger still because Bo just couldn’t take roaches. So he’d taken it upon himself to go out and buy some D-Con, the liquid kind you mop with a brush. Now he went into the pantry and, starting at the top shelf, he pulled everything down, washed the shelf, mopped it with the D-Con, and put newspaper on the shelf. That shelf belonged to Mrs. Harris, because she was tall. The next lady was about five-two or -three, so she got the middle shelf. Emmett cleared that one. As he cleared the shelves, he washed and organized everything that he took down. He put everything back on the middle shelf, and then he got to mine. I had the bottom shelf, because he was little and I’m barely five feet tall myself. He went through the same process there. When he finished with the pantry shelves, he got down on his knees and painted the kitchen and pantry baseboards with D-Con.
Then he wanted to clean the refrigerator. I don’t know how he knew this, but he had told Mrs. Harris that roaches would live in the back of your refrigerator. She just let him go for it. He cleaned back there, and then he wanted to clean the inside of the refrigerator. I held my breath. He took everything out, but thank God he didn’t put any D-Con in there. I exhaled. He just washed it and put everybody’s stuff back in it. Finally, he scrubbed the kitchen floor. It was such a big kitchen. But he did the whole thing.
When he finished, I stepped in. “Now you have to take a bath,” I told him.
He looked so pretty after he got cleaned up, with his cheeks all rosy from the scrubbing. I just wanted to keep looking at him, this very special child of mine. And I wanted to hold on to that moment, to cherish it.
As busy as I was with work and caring for Emmett, I did find a little time to socialize with my cousins Ruby and Juanita. Juanita was engaged and took me once to visit her fiancé, Alfonso. That’s where I met Alfonso’s next-door neighbor, Pink Bradley. Since Juanita was going over there all the time, and since I seemed to be hanging out with her whenever I could, I wound up running into Pink quite often. He seemed like the nicest person. A sturdy five-foot-ten, he towered over me. He was very dark and appeared to be a strong man, which is what I needed. And he had a good job. I knew that because Juanita had started whispering in my ear. He worked for Chrysler Corporation, a company that apparently was generous with overtime. I mean, those boys
Thanks to my father’s help, Emmett and I moved into another house with another family, the Harrises, an older woman, her husband, and another relative. They rolled out the welcome mat, and they gave me the front room for a bedroom, the best room in the house. And they fell in love with my boy. They just went crazy over Emmett. There were no children in the house and Mr. Harris practically adopted my son. He just took him away from me. On Saturdays they always had somewhere to go: the circus, the movies, a ball game, from early in the morning until late in the afternoon. Of course, that meant that Bo couldn’t do much for me. Not that there was much that he could do anyway, but he was starting to channel his energy, make a contribution around the house. For one thing, he was learning how to cook and that was a big help to me when I’d come home from a long day, bone tired. But there would be more surprises from this industrious little boy.
One day I came home from work and both women were sitting in the kitchen. It was like they were watching a performance. In a way, they were. I wound up joining them.
Bo was in the pantry working. The first day, when we’d moved in, Bo and I noticed immediately that the Harrises had a roach problem. It was a big problem. Bigger still because Bo just couldn’t take roaches. So he’d taken it upon himself to go out and buy some D-Con, the liquid kind you mop with a brush. Now he went into the pantry and, starting at the top shelf, he pulled everything down, washed the shelf, mopped it with the D-Con, and put newspaper on the shelf. That shelf belonged to Mrs. Harris, because she was tall. The next lady was about five-two or -three, so she got the middle shelf. Emmett cleared that one. As he cleared the shelves, he washed and organized everything that he took down. He put everything back on the middle shelf, and then he got to mine. I had the bottom shelf, because he was little and I’m barely five feet tall myself. He went through the same process there. When he finished with the pantry shelves, he got down on his knees and painted the kitchen and pantry baseboards with D-Con.
Then he wanted to clean the refrigerator. I don’t know how he knew this, but he had told Mrs. Harris that roaches would live in the back of your refrigerator. She just let him go for it. He cleaned back there, and then he wanted to clean the inside of the refrigerator. I held my breath. He took everything out, but thank God he didn’t put any D-Con in there. I exhaled. He just washed it and put everybody’s stuff back in it. Finally, he scrubbed the kitchen floor. It was such a big kitchen. But he did the whole thing.
When he finished, I stepped in. “Now you have to take a bath,” I told him.
He looked so pretty after he got cleaned up, with his cheeks all rosy from the scrubbing. I just wanted to keep looking at him, this very special child of mine. And I wanted to hold on to that moment, to cherish it.
As busy as I was with work and caring for Emmett, I did find a little time to socialize with my cousins Ruby and Juanita. Juanita was engaged and took me once to visit her fiancé, Alfonso. That’s where I met Alfonso’s next-door neighbor, Pink Bradley. Since Juanita was going over there all the time, and since I seemed to be hanging out with her whenever I could, I wound up running into Pink quite often. He seemed like the nicest person. A sturdy five-foot-ten, he towered over me. He was very dark and appeared to be a strong man, which is what I needed. And he had a good job. I knew that because Juanita had started whispering in my ear. He worked for Chrysler Corporation, a company that apparently was generous with overtime. I mean, those boys
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