Born Blue by Han Nolan Read Free Book Online Page A

she said. Never did say I loved her, 'cause 'cept for the ladies and Harmon, I didn't have lovin' feelings for nobody. I tried not to think about it much, but sometimes, when I did, I found weren't
nothin' inside me no more. Seemed the only true feelings I had left were angry feelings.
    I watched Mama Shell stand up from the table, holding on to it, case she fall. "Where's the damn tissue?" she asked. She stepped away from the table with her bony arms reaching out for the counter like she blind, and I saw her hands shook as they was movin' over the countertops and opening cabinets. The lady was strung out bad. She found her some tissue in the bread box and came wobbling back to the table, with the tissues shakin' in her hands.
    "What color were your little girl, then?" I asked.
    I weren't sure this child were for real, but I asked, anyway, to keep her mind off me not loving her and 'cause I wanted to know.
    Mama Shell honked her nose into the tissues and sat back down.
    "She was like café au lait," she said, her eyes fillin' back up with tears. "She had beautiful skin, real soft skin. She didn't have any hair on her arms."
    My body got all tense with her telling me this. I leaned forward toward Mama Shell, forgetting I were trying to stay out of reach. "Where she be now?" I asked.
    "She's dead." Mama Shell pinched at the bridge of her nose again. "She had a heart attack. My baby had a heart attack"
    "A heart attack? How old were she then?"
    "Seven. She was just seven years old. You're not supposed to die of a heart attack at seven years old, are
you?" Mama Shell looked at me, waiting like she wanted a answer from me.
    I didn't have one. I sat back again and let go my breath. Didn't know why, but I were glad she died. Guess I didn't want to see no café au lait daughter of Daddy Mitch.
    Mama Shell put her head down on her arms, so she were talking to the floor, and said, "I want my little girl back I just want my little girl."
    I didn't know if she were talking 'bout me or her own child, but I didn't think it mattered to her. She just wanted a little girl, any little girl, but I couldn't be little no more. I knew too much.

Chapter Eleven
    I HAD ME SOME new friends in middle school but they wasn't close like Harmon been. Never could keep a friend longer than a couple of weeks, anyway. Anytime I got me a new friend, I'd feel all singsongy inside thinking this time it gonna last and we gonna be best friends forever. But we always ended up fighting soon enough, and it weren't never my fault, neither. Weren't my fault their toys and stuff were made cheap and broke easy, and I just give Lizzy a little push and she falls and breaks her wrist like I pushed her hard, when I didn't. It were always something like that, where I got the blame for it all. Didn't matter, anyway, 'cause didn't need no friends; I had my Etta and Odetta and Aretha.
    The new friends in the middle school be different. They like little puppies trottin' after me, wantin' to be round me 'cause I looked grown and 'cause I got this voice and 'cause I just as sassy-assed as they come. They
thought I were acting cool. Weren't just the girls yappin' at me, neither. Boys was wanting to be round me and touch me all the time, especially the seventh graders. They was always telling me how pretty I be, that I got pretty eyes and pretty hair, but they wasn't looking at my face or head when they sayin' it—they looking at my tits.
    I felt funny with them looking at me, so I smacked their faces when they got their eyes where they didn't belong. They come on after me, anyway. Acting sassy like that, and singin' the way I could sing, got me more friends and attention than I ever got before.
    Then Mama Shell got it into her mind that she wanted to move. She told Daddy Mitch she be desperate to move.
    "We've got to get out of here," she said, crawling up to Daddy Mitch, who were sitting on the couch. "I don't know what I'll do if we don't move. We've got to go soon, Mitch.