Honoree stared at the bathwater that had turned red with blood. “Help me out. I need to get out.” She reached for Bessie, who took her wrists and helped her from the tub. “Pass me a towel.” She removed the stopper.
Bessie emptied the tub and wiped it clean, refilling it with fresh, hot water. Honoree sat on the toilet seat and watched, shivering slightly, but feeling her body come back to her. “You need to wash, too.”
Bessie stripped out of her clothes. They climbed into the tub and washed each other’s hair.
“Is Dewey your baby’s father?”
Bessie bowed her head. “He’s the only man I’ve been with since I arrived in Chicago. So, yes, the baby’s his.”
“Lord have mercy,” Honoree whispered.
Bessie tilted her head and sighed. “I ain’t worried about Archie, neither. There are quite a few people that could be blamed for his brother’s death before me—or you.”
“But one of those people might be Ezekiel.”
Honoree rubbed her hand over her soapy head. “Fill that pitcher with some water so we can rinse our hair.” They washed and rinsed and when they finished, they got out of the tub. However, Honoree still felt dirty. “Fill it again.”
Bessie did. “You’ll feel better soon.”
“I’ll never feel all the way better.” Honoree hugged her shoulders and, after a while, climbed from the tub. Then she asked Bessie to fill it one last time. “I’m worried about Ezekiel.”
“Ezekiel is a smart man, Honoree. He’ll leave Dewey’s body someplace where Archie won’t find it—at least not too fast. We’ll have plenty of time to figure out what to do.”
Bessie rose and stepped out of the tub. Honoree did as well.
“We should go to New York City,” Bessie said, wrapping a towel around her waist. “Never been to New York City.”
“Neither have I.” Honoree turned on the faucet and rinsed the tub before putting the rubber stopper back in the drain. “Let’s take another bath. I’m not clean.”
CHAPTER 45
SAWYER
Friday, July 10, 2015
The sun rises over Little Italy, Taylor Street, and the buildings east of Cook County Hospital (not the actual name, but it’s the name Honoree uses and I bow to her wishes). I arrive early Friday morning. The doctors give Honoree a room with a view that faces Lake Michigan—per her request. The hospital is not anywhere near the lakeshore, but Honoree longs to see the sunrise.
“It’s a matter of a few days, maybe hours,” Lula tells me, wanting to make sure I’m prepared.
Different from the caretakers at the senior-living facility, the nurses at Cook County focus on the bags of medicine hanging upside down on the long poles next to Honoree’s bed. They are preoccupied with checking her pulse rate, her blood pressure, and how much of her urine is in a plastic bag.
“I came across our neighbor Kenny after the fire, just before we left for Louisiana. He was on a corner, selling boxes of his photographs and paintings, and some motion picture reels he’d stolen.” Honoree’s face wrinkles into a frown. “I had Jeremiah buy me one of those boxes.”
She fists the fabric of her nightgown to the left of her heart. She will tell me this story, even if it kills. And I’ll listen, although I don’t want to go into the quicksand with her.
After a moment, she raises her hand. “Did I ever tell you how much you remind me of Jeremiah? I know I thought Ezekiel at first but considering you ain’t related to either one of them, sometimes you remind me of the one and then the other. You don’t look a thing like ’em, but the way you listen, the way you’re careful when you speak, watching your words because you understand their power—that’s where you remind me of Jeremiah.”
“I wish I could’ve met them.”
“Ezekiel spoke his mind but didn’t always have the patience to figure out the damage that can be done with a word.”
“Never bothered to get to know too many people other than family.” I laugh. “My family was broken. Now the only chance I have left is with my dad.” I think of Azizi, but without the pain, only the sorrow of missing her. I think of Maggie, but she will never admit to anything wrong, so much like her mother she’d never believed.
“The other one,” Honoree begins. “My friend Honoree, she never backed away from a problem, a challenge. She surely never gave in to the men who tried to hurt her or love her.”
“You saved her life, you know.”
“What? I killed a man I wanted dead.” Honoree squeezes my hand and smiles, a naughty girlish smile. “Black folks disappeared back then. No one cared if a colored man up and vanished. Ezekiel and his entire family up and left for three years, and nobody noticed.”
