The Sittin' Up by Shelia P. Moses Read Free Book Online Page B

Jesus,
” they sang.
    â€œI did the best I could for you, Bro. Wiley!” Ma cried. Miss Lottie Pearl held Ma back with both hands to keep her from climbing into the hearse. Ma knew good and well that was no way to carry on in front of that dignified man, but her heart was broken. She didn’t seem to care. When Papa and Mr. Jabo finished helping get the casket inside the hearse, Papa came over and held her real tight. The same gust of wind I felt when Mr. Bro. Wiley took his last breath came across me again. I wondered if anyone else felt it. I didn’t say a word. Just whispered a good-bye from my heart.
    While TJ and LJ closed the doors of the hearse, Mr. Gordon placed a white plastic flower on the door. Ma turned her head. She couldn't stand the sight of “the flower of death.”
    As soon as Mr. Gordon drove off, Ma fell down on her knees. He was taking away the only daddy she had left on earth. The womenfolk got to shouting all over the porch. The menfolk said, “Amen.” Me, Ralph, and Pole ran to the end of the path to watch the hearse head up the road for as long as we could.
    â€œBye, Mr. Bro. Wiley,” Pole said.
    â€œHe can’t hear us, girl,” Ralph told her, like he didn’t know she was smarter than both of us put together.
    â€œI don’t care that he can’t hear anymore. Now tell him good-bye,” Pole insisted.
    â€œBye, Mr. Bro. Wiley,” me and Ralph singsonged. We knew better than to argue with Pole.
    â€œFarewell, Mr. Bro. Wiley.” I could not believe my ears. It was Mr. Thomas’s boy Christian standing at the end of his path. His face was as red as a beet.
    â€œHey, Mr. Christian,” Pole said, with me and Ralph echoing.
    â€œAfternoon,” he said. Then he was gone as fast as he had appeared. I was surprised that he said a word because Mr. Christian never spoke to colored folks except Mr. Bro. Wiley. Folks say he almost drowned down at the river when he was a boy. Mr. Bro. Wiley heard him screaming and grabbed his little prejudice hind part out of the water.
    After Mr. Gordon was out of sight, all the menfolk went off to do their Saturday chores—all except Papa. He went in the house to try to mend Ma’s broken heart. Ralph went with his papa into town on horseback to get Mule Bennett. There was no need to go back to the field because it was almost noon. The women went home to get their pots going as they talked about who would cook what for the sittin’ up that would start after church the next day and last a whole week. Miss Lottie Pearl went inside Mr. Bro. Wiley’s room and took the death sheets off the bed. Me and Pole stood in the hallway and watched.
    â€œWhat in the world we gonna do without him?” she said to Ma as they sat on the bare mattress, while Papa fanned his wife.
    â€œWe gonna give Mr. Bro. Wiley the kind of sittin’ up he deserves before we take him down to the riverbank.”
    They cried something awful.

S EVEN
    J ust like Mr. Bro. Wiley, Saturday passed away. We didn’t go to church come Sunday. Papa said it was all right not to go to the Lord’s house ’cause Ma was tore up with grief. Instead we sat around the house and collected food from the neighbors for the sittin’ up. Miss Lottie Pearl was the first to arrive. You could smell her chicken potpie before she opened the door. Mr. Jabo was carrying a wooden box filled with pies that Pole told me her mama stayed up all night baking. I was some kind of glad to see my friend when she came in with her folks, carrying a pitcher of tea. I wanted to see how she was doing.
    She had pulled herself together and managed to smile.
    It wasn’t long before our neighbor Miss Dora Mae, who lived across the road, came with some cabbage and white potatoes. Miss Moszella brought cornbread that she left in the skillet too long. The two women were best friends. Neither one had a husband, so they lived together. Both ladies