A Matter of Souls by Denise Lewis Patrick Read Free Book Online Page A

Mama Vee bustled in with a tin mug of what smelled like peppermint tea. Hazel obeyed, because her head and stomach had jiggled in time with each other when she moved. She lay back on the pillow as her grandmother came around.
    â€œJurdine said you tossed and turned all night, and Evelyn came in here and said she felt a fever on you. I don’t have time to do no coddling, just here’s this tea to settle your stomach.”
    Mama Vee was wearing her starched black uniform, and her smooth silver hair was sleek under a hairnet. She put the cup on the small bedside table and stood over Hazel like a doctor who could examine with x-ray eyes.
    â€œâ€˜Course, I don’t believe it’s your stomach that needs settling—I believe it’s your hard, kinky head!”
    Hazel closed her eyes. It was no use trying to point out to Mama Vee that her hair had never been crinkly or kinky; just as it would never be any use trying to convince her the truth was that being
any
shade of brown was simply being Black to the folks Mama Vee wanted to impress. Hazelrolled away from her grandmother, pulling her knees up to meet her chin as she lay on her side. Her joints ached.
    â€œYou surly wench! I’ll send word round to the school and Miss Clotille that you won’t be comin’ to work today.” Mama Vee’s voice receded as she marched away. “Seems to me, somebody in your position would take her job more serious …”
    Hazel wanted to holler that Jurdine took her job real serious, but she didn’t have it in her. Jurdine was only trying in her own way to do the same thing as Hazel. She wanted more out of her life than an ordinary Colored one—or Negro or Black one—was likely to provide.
    When Mama Vee was long gone, Hazel slept fitfully. Thoughts skittered in her semiconscious mind between stretches of nothing.
    â€œHazel! Hazel!” Was that Jurdine? Couldn’t be … Hazel slowly forced her heavy eyelids open. The light filtering underneath the half-pulled shade was different. She was overwhelmed by the scent of chicken feathers and sweet perfume. Her stomach turned and cramped. Yes, Jurdine.
    Hazel blinked up at the pale face.
    â€œW-What?”
    â€œI brought you a surprise. Wake up!” Jurdine was grinning. Hazel took a deep breath. She still felt something awful.
    â€œCome on, girl. Sit up, now. Let me smooth your hair. And this gown …” Jurdine looked around quickly andgrabbed a blouse from the twins’ bed. She threw it over Hazel’s shoulders and arranged it like a bed jacket.
    â€œWhat in the world are you doing?” Hazel asked, wanting to resist her sister’s out-of-character fussing and concern.
    â€œThere!” Jurdine stood back for a moment. “Now, close your eyes.”
    Hazel sucked her teeth in irritation. “For real, Hazel! It’s a big surprise, but I have to give it to you in a hurry, before anybody gets home!”
    Hazel frowned and obeyed.
    â€œDon’t make that ugly face!” Jurdine said. “You’ll be sorry!”
    â€œJurdine—”
    â€œOkay, open your eyes. Surprise!”
    Hazel turned in the direction of her sister’s voice, and there in the bedroom doorway stood Johnson C. Johnson. He had on his crisp khaki uniform, but he had topped it with a cocky straw Panama. He swept off his hat with one hand; with the other he held out a bunch of roses from Reverend Clark’s yard. Hazel’s physical and mental agitation eased, and she managed to smile.
    â€œExcuse me for imposing, Hazel Mozella Reed. But your sister here found me and said you were laid up, and I knew it must be serious because I never heard of you missing school or work or anything. And I thought … maybe you might not be up for tomorrow night, so—”
    Hazel wanted to say “No!” but a wave of nausea shook her. As she watched JC’s expression change from simplecaring to worry,