Home > Books > The Love Songs of W.E.B. Du Bois(70)

The Love Songs of W.E.B. Du Bois(70)

Author:Honoree Fanonne Jeffers

“But you two young folks come with me. I want to show you one more thing.”

David and I walked with him over to the pecan tree.

“You see here? See these cuts? These showed up a few days after the commotion at the store. Somebody tried to chop this tree down. We never found out who did it, and it never bore fruit again.”

We stood there awhile longer, with Uncle Root patting the pecan tree and sighing. Then he told us we should drive on up to the house to visit my granny. Her feelings would be very hurt if David didn’t stop by and speak.

An Altered Story

“Let me have some more wine,” I said.

“Uh-uh,” David said. “It’s your first time. Sip that slow. That Mad Dog is sneaky.”

“Aw, give the girl some more,” Boukie said. “She can handle it.”

He poured more wine in my mason jar. Mr. Lonny hadn’t bought the liquor; one of Boukie’s older brothers had purchased it. That night, he was at the creek with David and me, and ready to celebrate. Boukie had passed summer school and could play basketball when the season came around. He wouldn’t be left back again and twenty years old by the time he finished high school. I drank my wine and tried not to resent the intrusion as I stared at David, thinking of his kisses, his unashamed affection.

When David lit the joint, he held it away from me, but when Boukie’s turn came, he filled his jaws with smoke. He pressed his lips against mine. I opened and took in the smoke.

David frowned. “Y’all need to stop tripping.”

My head clouded, and I went to the Eldorado, climbing into the back seat. The boys got in the car, too, though in the front.

“Stay up in front here with me,” David said.

“You scared?” Boukie asked. “You want me to sing you a lullaby, too?” He gave a long laugh; he was high.

“Just don’t go back there, man.”

“You want to go first? That’s cool. Save some for me, though.”

“I ain’t playing with you, Boukie. You try to go back there, I’ma have to make some trouble.”

There was a long silence, and I was glad. I wanted to sleep.

“So it’s like that, Baybay? You done had yours, but now, I can’t have mines?”

“Man, I ain’t had nothing.”

“Nigger, you ain’t slick. I know what y’all been doing.”

“I ain’t lying, Boukie. That girl’s a virgin.”

“She don’t act like it. She act like she want to give away some pussy. And I’m ready to take it.”

“She high! She don’t know what she want! And I ain’t gone do her like that. That’s my lady, man. I love her.”

“You know what, Baybay? You just rude. That’s what’s wrong with you. You ain’t got no manners. Now, one thing you can say about me: Boukie Crawford is a polite motherfucker.”

He slammed the car door when he left. I listened for him to come back, but he didn’t, so I slept until David shook my shoulder. It was almost curfew.

I pulled David to me, unzipping his pants, touching him. I urged him, go get the blanket, go get it right now, and he told me we had to go, but he left and returned with the blanket. Shortly, we were out of our clothing and underwear, but he maneuvered beside me. It was safer that way, he told me. He didn’t have a rubber.

I moved against his thigh in slow, wet circles. Wrapped my fingers around him, squeezing.

“Come on, David. Let’s do it. Let’s do it right now.”

“Oh, shit. Naw, girl. We gotta stop.”

“Don’t you want me?”

“You know I do. All the time. I can’t stop thinking ’bout it.”

“Then how come?”

“You promise you won’t get mad?”

I stopped moving. “You have somebody else, don’t you?”

“Uh-uh, I don’t have nobody but you. I love you, girl. I love you so much. But I promised my granddaddy I wouldn’t.”

“How would Mr. J.W. know?”

“My granddaddy, he knows ’cause . . . I kind of, like . . . got a reputation. I been with a lot of girls. You mad, Ailey?”

I thought my first time would be his, too, but I could be understanding.

“No, that’s okay. But, like, who was it?”

“None of your business. Stop being so nosy.”

I took my hand away.

“Why are you acting like this?” Then I remembered that day when I’d asked Boukie about Rhonda. I thought further back, to that time the three of them had gone to the outhouse at Red Mound. “Oh my God! Rhonda? You and her?”

 70/304   Home Previous 68 69 70 71 72 73 Next End