The Matter Is Life (11 page)

Read The Matter Is Life Online

Authors: J. California Cooper

I was her friend, but I got mad at her then, and didn’t know whether I’d keep on bein her friend or not! I could see how she might do me one day! Or anybody! Her father did everything she ever wanted! She never paid no time to her mother either, but that old woman made it so she didn’t need
Vanity. She had her Mega and grandchildren. I know she would have loved to be closer to her daughter Vanity tho. You know mothers.

She did make it to the funeral … late. Mega did all the work need to be done. Mega cried the most. The mother too. Vanity cried, with a glass of champagne in her hands all through the funeral, what was left when she got there. Edward was disgusted … again. He had his arms round Mega, consoling her, more than he had em round Vanity.

Well, now … Vanity had all the money she needed, but them admirers was fadin away. Edward was fadin away. Vanity was lonely, unhappy. Her beauty was really fadin away too. She decided to go in for all that plastic surgery stuff. Edward put his foot down, then he put his marriage down. They got a divorce. Now, she really was alone. Lotsa friends don’t last long sometime. Vanity was very, very lonely with only herself. But that was the main person she had loved.

Everything happened so fast. Edward and Vanity divorced and we looked up and Edward was marryin Mega, who probably saw in him the father she never had. He was good to the children too! Neither one was marryin for money cause they both had some. He older, but they still together and it look like they happy to me. That whole family! His kids is welcome now to his home.

Vanity like to died, sure nuff! when they got married. She said Mega had always tried to take everything from her she ever wanted. Lied. She consoled herself by tryin to take every dime she could from him. She told everybody her sister had broken up her happy home. Lied. Friends (?)
smiled and turned away. Guardian Angel had a sore neck from shaking it.

Vanity was thirty-nine years old then. She spent plenty money on that face surgery. It did some good. Then her mother died. She said she couldn’t let herself cry like she felt, cause her operation was too new, it would ruin it. But even with them operations, she was beginnin to look like her mother. She had mirrors all over her house. She would see herself all day, wherever she moved. Sometimes she just scream, break out in tears and run jump in the middle of her sumptuous bed and cry, tryin to hold her face straight.

Vanity went into retreat. Wouldn’t come out for nothin. Ordered everything brought in. Chile, the woman was somethin! Layin out there in that big ole house with all the rich stuff in it. Lonely and unhappy … and scared. She had never lived like that before, and she didn’t know what to do. Everybody who would help her was gone … or dead. She was alone. No mama, no daddy, no close sister, no child. Alone, chile.

Mega who was nowhere near her in looks had her husband. Vanity knew something was wrong. The men were gone. She was free, divorced, and the men weren’t rushing in. It must be her beauty. She really stayed out of the sun. Spent hundreds of dollars on lotions and creams, magic formulas. Like a lady, she thought. Her Guardian Angel looked over the world, saw the starving, the sick, and cried. That was the saddest angel!

So … she lived her life alone. Retreated from all her “friends” and “admirers” for, to her, the reason for their admiration was fadin away. She wanted to be remembered as the most beautiful. The most beautiful lady ever in their
world. Yea … so she retreated from the world. Like a lady. Her Guardian Angel took a deep breath, sighed and rested in defeat, but hope.

But … no matter what you do or how you hide, this world, life, is not going to let you get away without livin. Long as you breathin, something is going to happen to you!

Her life proceeded in a quiet way. All her days was spent alone. She might talk on the phone just to keep up with what was goin on in her old world. She didn’t want any company. Maybe $nity, but $nity didn’t want to come nowhere dark and quiet. She was old, but she thought she was still goin strong, tho now, she was givin the men her money.

Vanity told $nity, “You are a fool! Givin somebody all that money you have worked hard lyin, layin and marrying for! A man wouldn’t know how to fix his lips to ask me for any of my money! I’ll never get that old and need any loving from anybody who expects something for it other than my time and my beautiful body!” She laughed. “I don’t need anybody, or anything that bad! A man coming into my life better bring something with him!”

After long days, bathing, drinkin, creaming her body, wearin her lovely delicate negligies, drinkin, eating, lookin at TV, staring out in space through the curtains of her huge windows, drinkin, listenin to records, starin into mirrors, drinkin again, she was bored and restless, but did not want to go out where people were. She actually thought she was gettin ugly, but she really wasn’t ugly. Older, naturally, but, she didn’t look bad as she seem to think.

She lay in bed at night, lonely, longing. Staring at the mirror over her bed. Wishing for someone. Her first husband … no. Her second husband … maybe. Rainy nights
were the hardest. She played blues records and, yes, sometimes she cried. She felt sorry for herself that everyone had left behind, somehow. They say the blues ain’t nothin but a woman cryin for her man. Well, she just didn’t exactly know who her man was. He had to be in her past. Sure didn’t look like he was in her future.

Sometimes … she felt just like the dogs she could hear howling at night. Oh! Lord! They sure must have the blues, to sound so, so sad. So blue. Even lost, deserted. So lonely … in the darkness of the night … in the rain … in the quiet. Sometime she would cut off all sound, music and TV, in the house and lay and listen to the sound of dogs callin to each other. Mating calls. Sad longing songs that sounded full of need and painful feelings. Alone. In need. Alone.

Her life was so quiet, she began to look forward to orderin things somebody had to bring. The groceries was the most likely thing, cause she did like to eat good food. The liquor store, too, was the most regular delivery.

The man who delivered the liquor was very mannerable, respectful, quiet, youngish … bout thirty-eight or thirty-nine years old. Always smiling. Gentle, smooth, smart. Knew how to do a million things around the house that always need doing and always did a few before he left. Hang a plant different, move a table, a large chair. Fix a small pipe, see why a light didn’t work. All those kinds of things. You know. All the things some women wish a man was around the house for.

He never touched her. Even accidently. No, no. He remained mannerable, never familiar, never out of line. Didn’t even curse a little bit. Just never did anything wrong. You
know. Like I say, the kind some women wish was around the house. He was good-lookin too. Bright, youngish face. Hell, he wasn’t old anyway.

He liked good music. It got to where she always searched for something new to play for him … to hold him a little longer. Then it got to where she had something fixed for him, something he had said he liked to eat. He drank very little. She ordered so much liquor to get him over there, she could have stocked a speakeasy. She liked to see him. He was just about perfect. Her Guardian Angel became alarmed. Because, you see, the angel knew.

Yes, he was almost perfect. He had practiced a long time. He had several older women he always delivered to. A few with money, they had to have money, had even become what they thought was “his woman.” He made love to them. Good love. He was gentle sometimes, rough sometimes, but always only just enough. He never did anything too much. With them.

He had a nice life. Just deliver liquor. His customers bought so much, the owner let him handle just the ones he wanted to deliver to. He could do something extra if he wanted to. He had wanted to deliver to Vanity. He had watched her for several years. She hadn’t seen him. Until she was alone.

He wouldn’t live with any woman. Wanted to be alone, free. Wanted everything he wanted and all he could get of it. He really didn’t want for nothin, not with them ladies he had. He dressed, always in good taste, very expensively. He liked hats and he sure looked good in em!

He knew when not to see someone. He was a bit cruel. He could ignore either one of his “women” for a week or
two. Send someone else with the order. Not call for two or three days. You know. They always end up givin him what he wanted. He never asked, just mentioned. And he only mentioned once. So you better remember what he said and hurry up and get it if you wanted him comin back.

Vanity came to expect him. To count on him. Even to love him … a little, and he had never touched her. Yet. Her Guardian Angel whispered to her, but she really couldn’t hear the angel I guess.

His name was Jody. Jody was born, I think, with something left out of his soul. The ability to love somebody, anybody, but himself.

Yea, he came into her life. Yes, chile. Ain’t it the way life is? Just keep foolin round with it … it will fool back with you!

Jody had all the charm, all the manners, all the look-like concern and care for the female race they needed. He was warm and affectionate with his voice. Color of a sunny Hershey bar, lookin just as rich and sweet. Warm, admiring eyes and a gentleman to the hundredth degree. Six feet tall, large shoulders, played football and basketball in school and college. Yes, he went to college and still just a delivery boy. He wore bikini underwear. Don’t ask me how I know! He, also, had five children he claimed were all not his.

In two months, they were close, old friends. Watchin the results of all they had done in the garden at night. Vanity would only come out at night. He smiled that warm, sweet smile and started workin with her. He had to build some new shelves on his day off, for all the liquor she had bought. He never asked for a dime. Never accepted a dime. Anyway, that started him spendin most his days off with her. One of
em anyway, she didn’t know he had all of em off if he wanted to.

Then, his television broke. He could fix everything, but he couldn’t fix his own stuff. Naturally they spent several evenings, just friends, lookin at TV. Somehow Vanity mentioned, in a laughin voice of confidence between friends, how she loved to make love in the mornings, and when it rained, when it stormed, when it thundered. You know?

One day, when the weather report said “rain, storm,” he came by that night, to check on her, of course. She sat down and lay back, in one of them flimsy rich gowns and looked at him. He was quiet, but he knew how to look back. He looked so good, so big, so strong. Vanity squirmed, crossed her legs back and forth, all them things we do. She finally jumped up when the programs was finished, news, weather and all. Jumped up and said, “Go! Please go! I … I … I don’t know what’s wrong with me! Please go.”

He smiled a warm intimate smile, said, “Talk to me. Tell me what the matter is.”

She couldn’t.

He said, “Am I your friend? I guess I’m not. And I … I feel so much for you. I want you to like me. But … I know you can’t.” He looked down into his drink, then back at her, deeply. “You are so beautiful. So beautiful. You could talk to, or have anyone you want in the world.” He stood, as if to go. Vanity raised from her seat, but she didn’t stand, just sat up. He went on talkin, “I am only me. So … I understand. I’m not … something enough for you.”

Vanity slowly got to her feet, reached one hand out to him. “Oh!” Her other hand touched her throat. “Oh, you are
everything wonderful to me. You are my friend. The only one I have. Do I really look beautiful to you?”

Jody reached out to her slowly, with that warm hand. Took her arm that had brushed against him so regularly lately, pulled her to his side. She buried her face in his shoulder. He used his chin to nudge her head around til their lips met … then he kissed the shit out of that woman.

Moments later, with heavy breathin from both of them, he said, “I better go … I’m only a man … and you are a beautiful woman. I won’t be able to control myself.” And he left, even tho she was holdin him and pullin on that man for all she was worth. He left. And she longed.

Vanity went to the phone, ordered more liquor. A big order. Then she went to her dressin table, made up her face. Perfumed her body. Soon the deliver came, Jody brought it. Not long after, she came. Jody brought it.

His time had come. The next time she saw him he said, “I am ashamed to have taken such a liberty with such a beautiful woman of whom I am not worthy.” You ever seen or listened to a woman convince a man he is worthy of her? Well, all I can say is her Guardian Angel wept for her.

Vanity told him he was worthy of her when she came again … and he went away, satisfied. She came … he went … and that ain’t the same thing. You know it! But Vanity fell asleep, satisfied. Like a lady?

When she woke up the next day, everything else did too. Passion, love, need. All for a man whose address and telephone number she didn’t even know. A man she didn’t even know what his dreams was. A smiling man she didn’t know, who brought her liquor when she ordered and paid for it. A
stranger. Maybe we are all strangers, but, Lord, help a woman at such a time in life where she will put her heart in strange hands full of blood and tears. Lord, help the men, too, cause it’s all kinds of strangers out here.

Jody didn’t come back with the next order … nor the next. A young, young boy did. Vanity like to died. All her morning had been about getting ready for him. She called the store and asked for him … he was not there. She had no-where else to call and the store owner could not give her his number, he didn’t know it. Finally, in a few days, he just dropped in about 11:00 at night. Her heart bloomed, opened, screamed out at the sight of him. He had come again! And so did she. But this time there was fear in the coming and she did not sleep so soundly satisfied when he left at 1:00 in the morning. The heart that had blossomed, had wilted with a little hurt pain. He gave her no number, no address. Said he had no phone and was never hardly home anyway. Always lookin for a job to do. He had huge bills to pay. “But, no, don’t worry, I will make it.” He said, “I don’t want your money.” She had offered, of course. She loved him and his painful beauty.

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