Ch. 7 • Baby, Baby, Blue

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Jackson, MS. October 1943
Monday, 7:23 pm
Later in the evening

Paislee

I was washing off the day's events and work in the shower as I let my thoughts wander far. I do that a lot nowadays it seems like. Thinking about Deen, school, graduation. Tonight must've been Deen's night. It seemed like the little mind of mine kept drifting and dawdling back to him.

"Paislee! I want to talk to you once you get out and dressed in your room," Mama yelled.

I jumped—almost causing me to slip and fall on the slick shower floor. "Okay, mama."

I continued rinsing my body from suds more quickly, anxious to see what my mama's talk would be about. She only announced a talk when it was something weighing heavily on her mind. I leaned on the shower wall, that was shockingly cool to touch, and knitted my eyebrows.

"I'm done for." I sighed, placing my wet hands on my face. I was letting my gringles get to me. I turned off the shower and stepped out with a fresh towel around me. The best part of a shower was after—when the room was foggy and steamy and warm to the skin. I let the towel's fibers dry my skin as I slipped my robe on and walked to my room. I made sure to be careful because the twins were in their room sleeping probably.

"Hey, mama." I smiled a bit to her sitting on my bed and walked over to my vanity. Putting a bit of moisturizer and spreading lotion on my arms. "Anything important?"

She shrugged a bit and stood to close my door. This time I knew it was important. "I just wanted to talk.  Keeping in touch with you."

"What happened? Something with the twins?" Please say yes, please say yes, I thought quietly.

"No it's about you," She said. I gulped nervously. Placing a silk scarf around my freshly pressed hair I turned my full attention to my mom. Simply humming an 'mhm'. "At the diner, I saw you making eyes with that white boy. Who is he?"

I tried not to make my tense body noticeable. "Who?"

"Paislee."

"He just looked familiar mama. I think he was from school or something, I've seen him outside on the court. Don't toss your wig for nothing." I gently laughed to lighten the mood.

"Do you know what they have done? Just a week ago there was mob incident downtown. I cannot sit here and let another man take advantage of my daughter"

"No, no" I traveled my way to my mama and sat beside her. Placing my hand on her shoulder reassuring her. "He's just a—a classmate more or less."

"He's white. Y'all don't even go to the same school Paislee. So where do you know him from?" She asked.

"There's Lenin High right in front of our school. It's easy to make friends–"

"Friends? Well, those friends can get you killed. How do you know he won't be just like the other lil' boys and wait 'til the right moment to pounce on you? You don't and I'm just trying to make sure that my daughter doesn't end up on the news."

"Mama, I get it. There's a such thing as friendly. Just ice it," I huffed.

"I'm not just going to ice it. 'Cause there's also things such as lynching, beatings, riots, and segregation. I could see the way that little boy was looking at you and how you were looking at him. You know better Paislee. I raised you better."

"Yes mama," I muttered quietly.

"I don't want you to get caught up in these young boys and girl that claim that they like you. They don't, I can tell you that. None of them like you, Paislee, because at the end of the day they're gonna' go back to their parents who ultimately despise you. They just want the claim and title."

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