Reverend Samuels ' car was quiet but for Pearl 's weak moans and the tread of the tires against the road . It started raining as soon as we left Milledgeville . The rhythm of the raindrops on the windshield would have been soothing another time , but right now all I could think about was getting Pearl to the hospital . In the dark quiet , I thought about Momma . She would surely be pacing the floor until she heard some news . I went over in my mind how I could have made this situation better , but I couldn 't . I looked at the back of the reverend 's head and thought about his words to Momma before we left . I needed to accept that we were all doing the best we could . Still , I shivered thinking about Momma . I wasn 't sure she would be able to get past any of this . I nodded , curious about why the pastor chose now to say that . Could he read my thoughts ? Could he see the worry on my face for both my sister and my mother ? " Some the other ladies … " he said . " … In , in the congregation … . " He paused like he was holding his breath , nervous about something . " Well … we 've been worried about her . She just ain 't able to stand much since Ernest died . " I looked out the window and gave thanks for the darkness . From the heat I felt in my neck and ears , I knew my face had to ten shades of red . Here I 'd been working all these weeks to help Momma get a break , to keep other people 's noses out of our business , and here the reverend says the one thing Momma feared the most - that she was being talked about by the pastor and the church women . He spoke more softly now , as if he knew he had embarrassed me . " She got those young ' uns to raise , you know . And now … this . " He whispered the last part and glanced quickly over his shoulder at my sister who had stopped moaning and started shivering . " Reverend , I thank you for your concern and I thank you for helping us out tonight . " I bit my tongue and tried to remember my manners . " We 're … Momma 's doing alright . " " I didn 't mean to offend you , Miss Grace , " Reverend Samuels said . " All I meant to say was … your Momma is in a mighty fragile mental state and … . " He glanced back over his shoulder at Pearl . " She got plenty of reason . " " What 're you sayin ' , Reverend ? " My voice was barely above a whisper . It was all I could manage . " I take good care of Momma . Don 't I ? I look after her and the little ones . " I squeezed Pearl 's hand . " We ain 't got money for anything more . " The car slowed as we neared the hospital . Reverend Samuels pulled up as close as he could to the door and got out of the car . I wasn 't exactly sure how old he was , but until that day he had always just been old . Watching how fast he moved and how easily he lifted Pearl into his arms , I wondered just how old he really was . We hadn 't gotten halfway down the sidewalk before two orderlies came running out with a gurney . While Pearl was loaded onto it , I tried to avoid the blood staining her entire lower half . I shut my eyes and tried to tell myself that my sister was so young , so healthy , and oh so stubborn . Surely she would be okay . When I opened my eyes , Pearl was already inside the building . Reverend Samuels had his head down . When he saw I was ready , without a word , he bowed and held the door open . The doctor held up his hands and shook his head . " No , no . No , you need to understand what 's happened here . Pearl 's lost a lot of blood and it looks like the pregnancy did some damage to her reproductive organs . She can 't ever have kids now . We need to remove those organs so she can 't ever get hurt like this again . " I couldn 't say anything back . Tears ran down my face . I was thankful to know Pearl would be okay , but to think of her losing her chance at being a mother made me ache inside . The rain had almost stopped as we got back into Reverend Samuels 's car . It had turned cold while we were in the hospital , and my teeth began to chatter . My body started shaking . We drove for a while in the darkness without a word . I thought over the whole awful night . For the first time in hours , I thought of Momma and remembered she was probably still up pacing the floor . " I don 't know what to do , " I said out loud . " I was planning on going back to college next fall , but Momma and Pearl … . Who 's going to look after them ? " " I was a young man when I came to minister to the people in Milledgeville . Not long after I arrived , a young woman came to talk to me . She was in a similar way that Pearl was . Even though the father of the child was still around , they weren 't married and she was afraid if she told him , he 'd run out on her . She was so scared . I 'd never seen anything like it and I worried she might do something desperate . " The reverend nodded . " He was such an angry young man . They were both miserable , truth be told . He said he had to leave to get some air . Said he couldn 't breathe inside a church . As he walked away , I knew he wouldn 't be back . I never felt sorrier for anyone more than I did that girl . She was all alone . " Reverend Samuels grimaced . Your momma and Ernest fell in love by Christmas . They got married in January and , if I remember right , you were born in February . " " The girl was my momma and Daddy wasn 't my real father ? " Big tears fell from my eyes and I didn 't even try to wipe them away . " Whatever happened to my real dad ? " " I have no idea who he was or where he went , " Reverend Samuels said . " I 'm sorry to tell you all this now . You 've been carrying a heavy burden and I just thought you ought to know . " After everything I done to be a good daughter and sister , none of it really mattered . None of it had been really real . I was the reason for Momma 's shame . I was the reason that Momma didn 't expect anything to ever work out for her . Just as I had always suspected , I was the reason for all the misery . Grace Washington is a contributor to Jet Planes and Coffee . Like many of our writers , she is from Texas with roots all around the South . Her stories often uncover the realities and courage of those who fight for justice . I didn 't have time to worry about Momma 's shock and her sudden discovery of Pearl 's condition . Momma looked so odd sitting at the table with her mouth open trying to absorb what all had just happened . The three younger children had put their forks down completely ignoring the meal Momma had made , even though it was everyone 's favorite . I put my arm around Pearl and walked her back to the bedroom . Pearl was barely in bed when Momma came charging into the room . She was hysterical . " Grace , " she cried . " We got to call the amblance people ! Run across the field to Lillibelle 's and see if she can call them ! " " Oh Lordy , help us now in our hour of need , " she said . Tears were streaming down her face . The hands she lifted into the air were shaking . " I call upon the Great God of heaven to come and save this … my errant child . " " Go to Lillibelle 's , " I said . " Call Reverend Samuels . He 's the only one with a car that might take mercy on us and drive us to the colored hospital over in Tilton . " Mother stared at me as if I had grown horns . " What you mean , girl ? I ain 't gonna call my reverend for something like this ! You think I want the church people knowing what 's happened here ? " It took a couple of seconds for the impact of Momma 's words to sink in . When they did , I had to sit down next to Pearl on the bed . I felt gutted . Was my own sweet mother more concerned about what church folks thought than her own daughter 's life ? " Momma , forget the church people , " I heard myself hissing at my own mother . " This is your daughter ! We need Reverend Samuels ' car . If he has any soul at all he 'll see us as we are . We 're all sinners - he knows that ! He 's our only hope , Momma . " To my shock , Mother left us only to reappear just before the reverend arrived . Her hair had been combed out and she had lipstick on . But no amount of makeup would hide her hysteria . She shook like a leaf and , before Pearl passed out , she wailed with Pearl 's every sound . The boys led the reverend to our bedroom . He had taken off his coat and hat before he got there as if he was there for a prayer meeting . His face told me he hadn 't expected what he got . " You hear that , young lady ? " Momma said , her voice a little shaky but not hysterical . " We got to do the best we can . That means you too . " " I think she 's about four months along , " I said . Now I understood the shame Mother had felt moments before . Speaking it out loud like that to someone of Reverend Samuel 's stature made me feel so ashamed . " Alright then , " he said . " I already took the liberty of calling Mercy hospital to let them know we 're coming . I didn 't know how bad it was - just thought it might be pneumonia or some such . " Grace Washington is a part - time contributor to Jet Planes and Coffee . Like many of our writers , she is from Texas with roots all around the South . Her stories often uncover the realities and courage of those who fight for justice . My legs bounced with impatience while I sat on the couch in the middle of the night waiting for Pearl to come home . I was the only one awake in the house , but then , I was the only one who knew Pearl wasn 't there . While my life was trudging slowly by , people I had known at college seemed to be on fast tracks to all kinds of success . And Pearl was on the fast track to trouble . I stood up and peered out the front window . I closed my eyes tightly and wished for Pearl to appear . When I opened my eyes , she was nowhere to be seen . I looked up at the radium clock that sat on a wall shelf in the living room . It was three in the morning . The bar was about four blocks from where we lived . Before I could talk myself out of it , I had my coat on and I was out walking in the cold . I resented every step I took . The winter wind blew in my face and I blamed my little sister . By the time I reached the parking lot of the bar , I was angry and winded . I was caught up short , though , when I realized I 'd have to walk through a half - dozen couples kissing in that cold parking lot to reach the door of the bar . It made me feel sick . From outside the bar window , I saw Pearl . Even at that distance I could see her pregnancy glowing on her face . And then she tipped up another drink from some kind of dark bottle and she laughed at something the young man across the table said to her . But she did have something to lose . She had that baby growing inside her and she wasn 't doing a thing to take care of herself and make sure it was healthy when it arrived . I hadn 't wanted that baby any more than anyone else , but in the last few weeks , I had begun to think of him or her as a part of our family . With courage I didn 't know I had , I pulled my coat tighter and marched through the thicket of kissing couples in through the door of the bar . Before Pearl could even register who I was , I was standing in front of her table . I pulled the bottle from her hands and grabbed her arm , forcing her to stand up . You would have thought I had said she had the plague . Every single man in that room simultaneously leaned away . Some of them even slumped off to the darker regions of the bar , as if they might be accused of getting Pearl pregnant . I pulled my sister by the arm and shoved her out into the night . She was drunk . She could barely walk , but I refused to give her any help . She 'd brought this on herself . She looked at me for an answer , but I was too fed up to say anything now . I had done what I set out to do - get Pearl out of that bar . Even so , I was guarded . I kept one eye on her and felt my heart twist with disappointment and suspicion . " What am I supposed to do with you ? " I asked . " You don 't care about anyone but yourself . Look at you ! You 're pregnant ! Don 't you want to be a good mother ? " A few hours later , I rose from a muddied sleep and looked over at Pearl . She was sleeping peacefully . I shook my head and pulled back the covers to get out of bed . As I shuffled off to the bathroom , I kept telling myself that all this stuff I did for my little sister was really for my mother . Her peace of mind meant so much to me that I was willing to stay home from college for a year just to help her out . Without meaning to , I wished Pearl had never been born . Without her there would be fewer worries , even with all the other kids Mama had to contend with . Then I chided myself . Pastor would look harshly upon me for the things that were in my heart when I thought of that selfish girl . Looking into the mirror in the bathroom , I asked Jesus for forgiveness for my mean thoughts . I asked him to take away my mean thoughts toward Pearl and help me to be a better person . And then I leaned my forehead on the mirror and prayed I would get through the day without falling asleep . I had a cleaning job to get through . I knew it was going to be a hard day when I saw Mr . Butler 's car in the driveway . I wondered why he was home on a Tuesday morning . His wife 's car was gone , though . With her there , at least I 'd have a buffer , but now I 'd have to keep my eyes down and pretend to be deaf , dumb , and mute . He was one of the meanest men in town and everybody knew it . I tried to soothe everything by laughing and saying , " Oh my ! You gave me quite a surprise . I didn 't realize you had come in the room ! I 'm so sorry . " But it came out high pitched and completely unbelievable . " You little bitch ! " he spat through clenched teeth . Then he paused and listened . There was a car door that slammed and heels clacked on the pavement outside . Mrs . Butler walked in seconds later . Even before she got through the door , she was chirping on about a good buy on porterhouse steaks . She and Mr . Butler were hosting a cookout for all their friends and she went on and on about what it was going to be like . " Honey ? " Mrs . Butler said , " Why are you still in your p - j 's ? " Her voice sounded worried and she stepped forward with a hand raised , like she might try to feel his forehead for a fever . I was relieved to get out of there and continue my work . I just had to get through four more hours of cooking and cleaning before I could go home . By the end of it all , I was exhausted and I felt like I might just break down right there on the sidewalk , but I kept thinking about why I was doing this kind of work - for Mama - and I kept going . It was worth it , too . When I walked through the back door of our house , I took a deep breath . Mama had made hot beans and rice with bacon and cornbread . It smelled so good after such a long day . " I was 17 . Your father was so happy I had married him ! " Her eyes were distant , as if she was being transported to that time when she and Daddy were so young . " He was so happy I had married him ! " She giggled and slapped the table with her fingertips . " You know , he was so eager to make us official that he went down to the bank and added my name to his checking account ? It wasn 't just Ernest Washington , Jr . anymore . It was Mr . and Mrs . Ernest Washington , Jr . ! " " We had a little Christmas tree by the window , " Mama continued . " His mother had given us one string of lights to wrap around it . They blinked off and on , and we would lie in the dark and watch those blinky lights for hours at a time . Ernest had already put a present under the tree for me . It was a long sort of flat box that he had wrapped himself . He made me promise not to peek , not to ruin the Christmas surprise . I spent lots of time wondering what that box held . Then on Christmas Eve , when both of our families were at our apartment , we each opened one present . Ernest got up and handed me the long - awaited present . I was almost afraid to open it , but when I did I couldn 't believe my eyes . I didn 't want to believe it . " Mama laughed like I hadn 't heard her laugh in years . This made me laugh too . I stood up to grab a handkerchief from a drawer just outside the kitchen and that 's when I saw Pearl . Her face was ashen and her eyes were hollow . Grace Washington is a part - time contributor to Jet Planes and Coffee . Like many of our writers , she is from Texas with roots all around the South . Her stories often uncover the realities and courage of those who fight for justice . Share this : TwitterFacebookPinterestEmailPrintMoreLinkedInRedditGoogleTumblrLike this : Like Loading . . . Posted in Contributors , Essays , Fiction , Grace Washington , Literature Tagged essay , fiction , Grace Washington , short story Confronting Pearl I tried not to think of how things were going to turn out . Many nights I sat in the dark in my mother 's rocking chair in the front room praying , crying , asking for divine intervention . My sister , Pearl , was a mindless creature lurking about in the night - trying to find some hapless man to marry her . I didn 't say anything to her when I heard her crawling out the back window . What could I have said ? Truth was , I was half - hoping she would find someone to marry her so she could be someone else 's problem . Sometime around dawn I woke to the sound of Pearl trying to get back in the house through the bedroom window we shared with our siblings . Most nights I ended up sleeping on the couch . It just wasn 't ideal for me to sleep in the same room with so many people . On this night , though , I stayed put because I had heard my sister slip out around two in the morning and I wanted to be there when she got back . She looked shocked when she saw my face in the window . I glared so hard I knew she 'd be able to see my anger glowing in the dark . Before she could say a word , I pointed out toward the front of the house . Her eyes grew two sizes larger and , without protest , she made a beeline in the direction I had pointed . I don 't think I had ever scared her as much as I did right then . It was a heady experience . She was so strong - headed ; not much upset her . Under the yellow light of the porch , my younger sister looked like something you might find in the gutter . Her dress had dirt on one side of it as if she had been rolling around in the mud . In one hand were her high heels , in the other , a cheap bottle of wine . All the spunk she was building up to moments before washed right out of her . She slouched and then stumbled to the steps of the porch . She plopped down and sat quiet for awhile . " What ? " Now it was my turn to be gut - punched . I shuffled to the steps and stood behind her . " That baby doesn 't need a name ! It needs a family ! " If it had been anybody else , I would have crumbled and cried beside them . But this was my sister , a girl who had never shown love for anyone but herself . She had never once offered to help Momma with the children or taken on odd jobs to help pay the bills . Times were tough with our father dead and our mother struggling to make ends meet . I squinted at my little sister and said , " You will not bring that baby under this roof . You understand me ? It would finish Momma off if she knew this had happened . " I thought of our mother sleeping peacefully in her bed . I had helped her all summer with her cleaning jobs , and for the first time since Daddy died , she was beginning to look rested . I tried to take stress off her , but Pearl only added to it . She was so different from me . She didn 't think through things . She certainly didn 't give much thought to all the pain she had caused Momma . But there she was sitting on the step crying hysterically now . She lived so completely in the moment , so absorbed in her own wants . All she ever thought about was the next drink , the next cigarette , the next man . I looked at her sobbing and knew she had not a clue what having a baby meant - not only to her , but to her momma and all the rest of us . In the end , it broke my heart . I knew what was going to happen next . I hurt for Momma , I hurt for what this would mean for me and , to be honest , I hurt for Pearl too . She was only 15 . From all outward appearances , she was a woman , but on the inside , she was just a kid . After watching her for another minute , I did the only thing left to do . I scrunched down and sat next to her on the step . I put my arm around her and rocked her back and forth until she calmed down . When she was quiet , I wiped the tears from her eyes and said , " Alright now . You are my sister and I love you . I don 't like you , but I love you . I will be here for you . " She put her head in my lap and sobbed again while I rubbed her back . I looked out at the road in front of our house and saw all of my dreams collapsing . My place would be here to help Momma and Pearl and the rest of them . Grace Washington is a part - time contributor to Jet Planes and Coffee . Like many of our writers , she is from Texas with roots all around the South . Her stories often uncover the realities and courage of those who fight for justice . Share this : TwitterFacebookPinterestEmailPrintMoreLinkedInRedditGoogleTumblrLike this : Like Loading . . . Posted in Contributors , Essays , Fiction , Grace Washington , Literature Tagged essay , fiction , Grace Washington , short story Tarnished Pearl My sister Pearl was the biggest waste of humanity I had ever seen . Most everything she did bothered me and I knew I couldn 't make her do better . Momma was too tired to make her do better and Daddy had gone to his reward last year . She didn 't seem to notice that the shack we lived in on the edge of town was falling down around us . She just sat at her mirror and tried on different lipsticks and pomanders . She had slicked her hair back . I wanted to tell her it looked awful but my opinion mattered not at all to Pearl . Momma looked so tired lately . She seemed to age a whole year in 24 hours . So I made her stay in bed until she got some good rest . I tried to reassure her , let her know I would keep up her cleaning jobs for her . If it got around our little town of Milledgeville , Georgia she couldn 't keep up her work , there 'd be no work to have . This was small - town Georgia in the sixties . If it weren 't for her cleaning jobs , I wouldn 't have a job either . It 's not for lack of trying , though . I saw a " cook wanted " sign on the window of a diner recently , but when I asked around , nobody seemed to know about it . I waited out back for somebody to go empty the trash or something . Finally , a woman came out and tried to shoo me away like I was a dog or something . " Mm - mm . Not gonna happen . Not here . My husband would have my head on the silver platter his daddy passed on to him from Stonewall Jackson . Now , go on . " All the way home , I fought back tears . All I wanted to do was give Momma a good life . She gave me everything she had and she was getting old . I would leave school and work my fingers to the bone if she needed me to . But if I couldn 't get my own work , I didn 't know how I was going to make it happen . This was the way of life that I knew . I knew how to abide by the rules . But sometimes the rules just didn 't make sense . Before I stopped at that diner , I had cooked two meals for two different white families and made cookies for their children . Toward the end of June , Momma seemed more rested . There were times she 'd even sit on the front porch when I walked up to the house after cooking and cleaning all day . This made me so happy . Some nights I needed to just sit in the dark by myself when everyone else had gone off to bed . It was quiet and peaceful . I 'd sit in the kitchen where it still smelled of dinner and family . It was in these moments I felt my soul resting after it had tossed and turned all day in a hateful world . On this night , my peace was interrupted when I heard the floorboards creaking from the room I shared with my siblings . At first I thought she was just going to go to the bathroom . I heard the shuffle of her feet and then the squeak of the door closing . I don 't know what made me look out the kitchen window . It was on the same side of the house as the bathroom . When I did I saw a man - or what looked like a man - standing at the edge of the yard . Moments later , I heard the bathroom window slide open and a thump against the ground outside . And yet , watching her walk off hand - in - hand with this man who , in the dark , seemed twice her age , I knew I couldn 't tell Momma . It would break her heart . Momma had all those other children coming up to take care of . I whispered a prayer . " Please don 't let any of them be like Pearl . " I spoke each of their names . " Take care of the twins , Tom and John . They 're only nine . And Maribelle she 's just a little girl . Keep her sweet and good . " Her tone sounded more grown up than she was . She was only fifteen . " I guess you think if you can go do adult things now you can talk to me like you 're an adult , huh ? " " Oh no , honey , " said the man . " You got to do something about that . I can 't be giving up the rest of my life to go work in the coal mines . You 're a fine woman , but even you aren 't worth that . " " You think about it , baby , " said the man . " Let me know what you want to do . I can get some money together somehow . I 'm willing to help you … do something . " " That ain 't happening , " he said . Then he laughed a mean sort of laugh that only men seem to know how to do when they 're trying to put blame on somebody . " I know lots of boys you been with . That baby could be anybody 's baby . " I closed my eyes . It was all I could do not to run outside and throw them both on the street for good . Pearl only thought of herself in everything she did and the rest of us paid for it , especially Momma . Outside , things were quiet except for the muffled sobs coming from Pearl . I pulled the curtain back . The moon was bright . There was my young sister standing by herself . Her head was in her hands and her shoulders were curled over in grief . The young man was nowhere to be seen . Grace Washington is a part - time contributor to Jet Planes and Coffee . Like many of our writers , she is from Texas with roots all around the South . Her stories often uncover the realities and courage of those who fight for justice . Share this : TwitterFacebookPinterestEmailPrintMoreLinkedInRedditGoogleTumblrLike this : Like Loading . . . Posted in Contributors , Essays , Fiction , Grace Washington , Literature Tagged fiction , Grace Washington , short story First Summer Home Sunday mornings were always busy in Momma 's house . All five of us kids knew church attendance was mandatory . Even I , who had been off at college over the last year , knew not to question that . Being the oldest , it was my job to help the younger ones get ready . I had just stood up from buckling my baby sister 's shoes when I caught my mother looking in the mirror in her bedroom . Outside that room I felt the chaos of five young people getting their hair pinned back or worrying about where they put their gloves . Inside Momma 's bedroom , it was completely still . It had been months since my father had passed away . The last time I had been home , he had been confined to the bed that was now perfectly made , without the hint of a wrinkle . He had shriveled up to nothing by then , but his presence was anything but quiet . He was in such pain and misery and so very helpless . I was at college when he died , but Momma told me to stay put . She didn 't want me to miss a day of schooling . Momma turned from the mirror and smiled . That weariness I had heard in her voice on the phone showed up in the wrinkles that tugged at her eyes . She was forty - five , but she looked sixty . She had the same expression on her face that I had seen on other black people as they aged . It was the look of resignation . All of us moved toward the door and I noticed as Momma walked through , her shoulders relaxed and her posture grew more confident . We were going to church as we had done every Sunday since before I was born , but it was the first time I realized what it gave my mother . It was a way for her to feel more hopeful and secure about her life and the world in which she lived . The walk to the church was not far and we met up with others along the way . I had grown up around all of them . We were like extended family , really . I watched Momma greeting the other families . She was so graceful , so much more alive than any other time . Her smiles were effortless with her lady friends at church . I thought about the many times I had seen them gather at one another 's homes after worship and how everyone raved about my momma 's bread pudding No wonder she loved it so . It gave her so much and helped her keep going . As happy as it made me to know she was well loved and respected , my year at college had opened my eyes to a life different than this . It was a hoped - for life , but it was a life without the weary ways of hard labor and racial injustice . I felt sad when I realized that there were borders in every part of my Momma 's life , lines not to be crossed . She had accepted her lot in life a long time ago , but I couldn 't let go of the possibilities of something different . Walking with those families to church for the first time since returning from school , I couldn 't help but feel a world apart . I think they felt similarly . Sure , they smiled and were kind , but they looked at me differently , as if I had crossed one of those borders , as if I had betrayed them somehow . I remember then struggling to keep my mouth shut . What did she know ? She was 15 , beautiful , and boy crazy . With all the boys who flocked around her , she was headed toward babies and marriage before she was 17 . I didn 't think she had a lick of sense . But since returning from school , I was starting to think maybe others felt the same way . Still , I did my best that summer to fit back in and to help out Momma . I put on a uniform , just like Momma 's , and I accompanied her to her cleaning jobs . When she wasn 't at the nursing home taking care of old white folks , she was cleaning their families ' houses . She worked so hard . I wanted to take some of the burden off her if I could . No matter what I did , though , I couldn 't shut out the year of college under my belt . It had opened my mind , raised my consciousness . Momma never questioned her existence . She didn 't have the luxury to think about it , I guessed . And she didn 't understand why I did . I wanted to make a difference . I wanted to help . I especially wanted to make Momma 's life better , but as the weeks passed , I didn 't think change would come in time to save her . It was Momma who broke the silence . When she spoke , I realized that she had been holding whatever it was in . Her words came out awkward and hurried . I stopped walking and turned to look at her . She stopped too , but she looked off in the direction we were headed . I had the sensation that she was afraid to go on but also afraid not to . " It 's just , " she said and then paused for too long . She was searching for something . " Maybe you oughtn 't to come with me . " Before I could protest , Momma raised a hand to my arm . " There 's a man at this first job , " she said . " He 's … he 's not a good man . " She didn 't answer my question directly , but she didn 't have to . I tried not to hate anyone . Being vindictive and resentful never did anyone any good . But sometimes , I just wanted to take matters into my own hands and hurt those who hurt the ones I loved , especially Momma . " You can 't go there , Momma , " I said . I heard the pleading in my voice and I couldn 't control it . " Please . Let 's find something else . " She shook her head . " If I don 't go , there won 't be anything else . Word gets out that I 've up and quit for no good reason I won 't get another job anywhere . Gracey , I need the money . " I looked into her dark eyes and I felt all her weariness weighing into my shoulders . Survival was why she put up with this life . She just needed to get through another day , get her kids fed and grown . I wanted to take all that from her and give her a good life . I wanted her to have respect and ease and comfort . And then I felt the resignation I had seen in her . It crept up into my shoulders and neck . She had no other choice . There were hungry mouths to fill and no other way of making do . " I 'll go with you , Momma , " I said . I tried to speak evenly so she wouldn 't hear the heartbreak in my voice . " Maybe with two of us there … . " I didn 't finish the sentence . I wouldn 't have been able to without being honest . The truth was that I hoped with us both there he wouldn 't try anything and I wouldn 't have to kill him . Momma nodded . She held out her hand and I took it . She wrapped my arm in with hers and we walked the rest of the way in silence . Grace Washington is a new contributor to Jet Planes and Coffee . Like many of our writers , she is from Texas with roots all around the South . Her stories often uncover the realities and courage of those who fight for justice . Share this : TwitterFacebookPinterestEmailPrintMoreLinkedInRedditGoogleTumblrLike this : Like Loading . . . Posted in Contributors , Essays , Fiction , Grace Washington , Literature Tagged essays , fiction , Grace Washington , short stories No More It took restraint for me not to roll my eyes . It would do no good to be disrespectful . It didn 't matter that I was a grown woman now , a college graduate . Momma could still remind me of her place in our house . But now I was moving out from her roof and she was scared . With every piece of clothing I packed , her hands plunged deeper into the pockets of her uniform . I knew her heart was breaking , but it was time for me to go , even if where I was headed was scary and dangerous , even to me . It had been two years since the Freedom March in 1962 when I had heard Doctor King speak . My heart swelled with pride when I listened to his speech . He gave such an impassioned plea for help with the civil rights movement . It had stirred something deep within my soul . I looked over at her , her hair graying at her temples already . My going to college was hard enough on her , but she was proud I had graduated , and magna cum laude , no less . The whole neighborhood got an earful about that . But the people Momma worked for didn 't even know she had a daughter that had gone to school . In fact , she hid that fact from most white folks . If they knew , it might make life very difficult for all of us . No , if I stayed in Milledgeville , I 'd end up walking with Momma every morning to Rosehill Lane where all the society matrons lived . I 'd spend my days minding their children and doing someone else 's dirty laundry . They would give me those measuring looks when they wondered if I had taken some of their silver after I spent the afternoon polishing it . They would choose to treat me as if I were a pet , and pretend we were friends . Or they might scream and yelI if I didn 't stay in my place . I saw the writing on the wall . I could see how it would always be . I wouldn 't survive in Momma 's world . I needed things to change . In Momma 's world , she was " Girl " and she had to jump whenever anybody told her to . The only place she could be just herself was at the Immanuel Baptist Church around the corner . They called her Mrs . Washington there . I 'm not sure how she did it , but somehow , every Sunday , she managed to get all five of us kids washed up and down to the church . We went during the summer 's heat or winter 's ice . It didn 't matter . My momma had made a name for herself at church . Even after working long hours at the nursing home , she was there for any family who needed her . She was known for always showing up on the doorstep of bereaved families with a baked ham or a caramel cake . Some days , her oven didn 't get turned off until late at night . In addition to looking after the white folks at the nursing home and the heartsick people at church , she tended to her houseful of kids and a sick husband , too . Was it wrong that I wanted something different than that ? It was 1964 , and change was in the air . I wanted to be a part of that . " Now don 't forget to bathe everyday , " Momma said , as if I might forget . " And don 't draw any attention to yourself . I don 't want you to get hurt . " Her eyes glazed over then . I could tell she didn 't hear me when I told her I would be okay and would do all that she told me . I watched her face for a minute . She seemed lost in another time . " That was my brother , " she said . " Ben . I don 't even know how he got that picture made . He was always a charmer . He had his ways . And it 's what got him in trouble . " " What happened to him ? " I asked , even though I had my suspicions . Even these days it happened often enough that I didn 't really have to guess . " I was just a girl , " she said . " It was after midnight . We lived in a two - room shack out in the woods . " She pointed somewhere in the distance , a place I had never heard of or been to . " The hooded white men in sheets came up on our front steps . They banged on the door and hollered for Ben to come out . The whole family was terrified . " Even so many years later , her eyes were wide with fear . " Daddy asked what business the man had with his son . Ben was only fourteen . But the man just fired a pistol in the air and said , ' Bring us Ben or you 'll all get some of this . You got ' til Three . ' And he started counting . " " It didn 't take but one word for my brother to walk out onto that porch with the rest of us . We didn 't even blink twice before those men had him off the porch and strapped up in an oak tree right next to our house . They had the noose made already and they tied his hands behind his back . " Momma shook as she told this story . I realized I was shaking too . I guided her to the bed and we sat down , both crying hard tears . " Every one of those men grabbed some part of the rope and hoisted Ben into the air . He put up such a struggle . And then one of them yelled up to him . ' You gonna whistle at another white woman , you nigga ? ' But Ben couldn 't answer . " She grabbed my hands tight and said through gritted teeth , " And now you 're going off as if you can change anything . Why in heaven 's name you got to put yourself in harm 's way ? Where did you get this from ? Ain 't nobody in our family got the gumption you got . Why 'd you have to grow up and be like this ? " Tears blurred my vision . " Momma , " I said . " I got to do this for Ben . I got to do this so we don 't have to grieve like this anymore . " All around me were empty seats , but my place was in the back . I felt angry all the sudden , sad and angry . I hesitated for only a moment at an empty aisle seat and the white woman sitting next to the window put her purse down , daring me with her eyes to just try to sit there . If I had , she would 've caused some sort of ruckus . I might be kicked off the bus before I left my own town ! I moved on toward the back and tried not to show my anger . An old black woman on the next to last seat in the bus patted the seat next to her . She seemed upset about something and I assumed she was angry about the same thing I was . Her dark eyes flashed and her lips were pursed together tightly . She was dressed much like my momma , in a service uniform , but I couldn 't tell where she might have worked or why she was on the bus . It didn 't much surprise me to hear her say those things . Momma probably would have said the same thing . But I said what I would have said to Momma , " Nothing will change until someone makes it . " She stared at me as if I had slapped her and it nearly made me smile . She did remind me of Momma . And something about that gave me comfort . The bus driver announced the next town ahead on my journey to Mississippi and any fear I 'd had before disappeared . It was happening . It was really happening . I reached out and took both of the woman 's hard , work - roughened hands . " Don 't you understand ? Everything I do from now on is so we don 't have anymore of those . " Grace Washington is a new contributor to Jet Planes and Coffee . Like many of our writers , she is from Texas with roots all around the South . We look forward to hearing more from her ! Post was not sent - check your email addresses ! Email check failed , please try again Sorry , your blog cannot share posts by email . % d bloggers like this :