Songs My Mother Taught Me; A Collection Of Short Stories

Prince

They say in the most defining moments, your life flashes before your eyes.

All I can think about tonight though is Mamie. It's the biggest night of my life and I can't focus on anything but her.

She ain't my mama, o' course. My mama left before I even opened my eyes for the first time to take a look at the world. Everybody says Mamie is my grandma and Uncle Georgie was my real pa. Story goes, Uncle Georgie fell in love with my mama and married her in spite of everybody telling him he was a damn fool. Real pretty, Mama was, or so they say. I remember once we were on the tram into town and a woman says to Mamie; "Is that Joy Carter's boy? I'd know those long eyelashes anywhere!"

Mamie just held my hand in her gloved one and turned her head away as though she couldn't hear. The lady tried to talk to me again but Mamie shook me and made me turn my head so I was lookin' in the white people section and ignoring the talking lady.

I asked Uncle Georgie once, what the best thing about my mama was. I was too little then to know that such questions weren't allowed. Georgie surprised me though, he told me it was her laugh. Joy was the most aptly named person he ever met, he said, because her laugh sounded like bells tinkling in heaven. Mamie told him to shut his big mouth and stop putting ideas in my head.

I can't help but laugh at the memory of Mamie, sitting in her hair curlers and housecoat, snapping at Georgie.

No, Mamie wasn't my mama. Not in name anyway, but if God told me he would take me back in time to change anything, I wouldn't do it for the world. Why, I just have to close my eyes and I can almost hear Mamie's loud laughter as Georgie teased her. It was a happy childhood, Mamie and Uncle Georgie were all I needed to get on in this world. And despite everything I put her through, she never left my side.

If that ain't a real mama, I don't know what is.

***

The boy near me glances at me slyly. I smile at him but he quickly looks away, he ain't supposed to bother me. I can hear Louie making his way down the corridor outside, talking loud, as always. Sure enough, within seconds the door swings open and there he is, puffing on his cigar nervously.

"Wheres my boy?" He grins around the room and as usual, the smile is almost as oily as his hair. He walks over to me, flicking ash on the floor. One of the guys he's with stays over by the door and the other follows him to stand in front of me. Louie flicks his head to the boy and luckily for him, the kid reads the gesture and runs out to the corridor to keep watch.

"How ya feelin' kid?"

"Fine."

"Good, good. Ya remember what we talked about?"

"I ain't likely to forget."

"Just you make sure you don't. Now listen here boy," The jolly voice is gone as he bends down to me. "You go down in the second round, right?"

"I know-"

"Just you make sure you do, kid. There's members of the goddamn mob out there in the audience and I don't fancy winding up with a hit on my head. Ya got me?"

"I know."

"There's millions of dollars in bets riding on this. Don't you dare fuck it up, boy. You go down in the second round and you stay down. Right?"

I nod. I just want him to leave me alone.

"Second round. Go down. Stay down." He slides one of his fat fingers between the vast pink flesh of his neck and his collar and tries to loosen it. "Nice fat paycheck for you, nice fat paycheck for me, the mob is happy and all the bookies want to commit suicide." He chuckles. "Just remember, go down tonight and you're richer than you ever dreamed, kid. Next time, you get ya fair fight. Your big comeback. Everyone's a winner, amiright?"