“And by the way, that Bull Connor shit is a low blow,” Diane said. “Please apologize.”
“I’m sorry, sister-in-law,” Belle said.
“I forgive you. Now come to my women’s group.”
“With all those white ladies? Absolutely not. No, ma’am.”
“I’ll be there. And womanhood has no race, Belle. It’s a universal class. And I’m white, so what are you trying to say?”
“You’re different, Diane. You’re my family member.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“And didn’t you tell me the last time a Black woman came to one of those meetings, somebody thought she was the maid?”
“Oh my God! They apologized! How many times are you going to bring that up?”
“Every time you ask me to come to one of those meetings.”
Diane laughed, opening her mouth wide. “Why do you have to make me feel so guilty?”
“High as you are, I didn’t know you could feel anything.”
“You sure you don’t want a toke?”
“Smoking reefer is not ladylike, Diane.”
“I’m going to forgive you for that, too.”
“I don’t need your forgiveness. I’ve got Jesus on my side.” Belle wondered if she’d caught a contact high, despite her precautions. She hadn’t been to church since before Lydia started walking.
*
At the next community meeting, Zulu gave Geoff a passionate, complicated soul shake and introduced him around to some of the other brothers. It was rumored that Zulu was a Black Panther, but when questioned, he always denied it, though he smiled when doing so. He’d twirl a finger, saying, be careful. The FBI had spies everywhere.
“Brother Geoff, we want to talk to you about starting a health clinic here at the center.” Beside Zulu, the other brothers nodded. Yeah, yeah. Right on. Speak on it. They kept their hands folded over their groin areas.
“I think that’s a great idea!” Geoff smiled eagerly. “Gosh, I’d love that, Zulu. But I haven’t finished med school yet.”
“You still could help us. Give some talks on nutrition. Things like that. Maybe get our people off this swine. It’s ridiculous how much we love barbecue. But it’s dangerous!”
“That’s the truth! You are so right.”
Belle turned her head to the side: her husband loved bacon. He’d eaten three pieces that morning.
“Also, something else,” Zulu said. “It’s about that noodle thing you brought last time for fellowship. Do you think you could cook some more for next week?”
Belle discreetly elbowed her husband, but he put his arm around her.
“Oh, I didn’t make that! My wife did. She calls it—what do you call it, woman?”
“Macaroni and cheese,” Belle said.
“Sister, that dish was most delicious!” Zulu said. “Very rich and savory. Do you think you could bring an extra dish of that for the next meeting?”
The other men nodded again, making affirmative sounds. Yeah, yeah, that noodle thing had been out of sight. Right on.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m kind of busy.”
“Please, my dear sister?” Zulu parted his full lips earnestly, and despite herself, she felt flutters: he was a dead ringer for Sidney Poitier, her favorite actor.
“Um . . . all right.”
He clapped his hands. “Oh, thank you!”
At the next meeting, Zulu made satisfied noises as he gobbled down his second helping, telling Belle she was truly gifted. Not only a cook, but a chef. No, she was a griot of the stove, telling ancestral stories with eggs and cheese and spices—and by the way, wouldn’t it be so wonderful if could she bring a third dish of macaroni and cheese for the next meeting? Could she fry a couple of chickens, too? The word had spread about the delicious refreshments provided at the meetings, and attendance had increased. Truly, she was helping the movement.
By July, Zulu was asking for pies—sweet potato, to be exact. Geoff bought twenty pounds of tubers and dragged them up the stairs. When he went back down and carried back up a huge sack of sugar, Belle decided this had gone on long enough.
That night, she made her husband’s favorite dinner. She didn’t complain that he was coming in late, meeting with Zulu and the other brothers.
“I need to talk to you about this food situation, Geoff.”
“Woman, your cooking is so good! Everybody loves it.”
“That’s nice of you to say, but I don’t have time to do that anymore. I have a small child and a husband.”