Read Breaking the Ties That Bind Online
Authors: Gwynne Forster
Breaking the Ties That Bind (20 page)
“It’s not too bad, but I wouldn’t like it as a steady job. I’ll play your request in five minutes. Let’s get together someplace this weekend.”
“I’d thought we might explore Alexandria. We hardly saw the old town and, except for the cotton picking, plantation slavery of the Deep South, it’s a living history of African American life from the early eighteenth century onward. What do you think?”
“I’d love it. If I had a car, I think I’d spend my free time getting acquainted with the nearby historical places. Would you believe I’ve never been to the Chesapeake Bay?”
“Then I’m going to have a wonderful time introducing you to Maryland’s Eastern Shore. I’ve got my boat docked over there, but it’s down for the winter. I may go to my place over there around the first of the year or for a quiet New Year’s Eve.”
“My papa said that your family is to spend Christmas Eve with us. He has a really nice apartment in Silver Spring. But he’ll tell you about that when he sees you next week at your dad’s house.”
“I’m looking forward to that. From the time Mom died, Dad and I are usually alone at Thanksgiving, and it’s been a rather sad occasion. But this year will be different, and I’m going to enjoy celebrating the holiday.”
“At least you miss your mother. I’m not sure I’d ever miss mine.”
He didn’t want to think about Ginny Hunter. “Let’s not dwell on anything that hurts you right now, Kendra. You’ll reflect it in your tone when you’re on the air.”
“You’re right, and the five minutes are about up. Here’s your song. Bye for now.” He’d have her understand that it was
their
song, but time enough for that.
their
song, but time enough for that.
Ginny struggled home through the thick snow, unable to feel her heels or her toes. Once home, she filled the bathtub with hot water, sat on the side of it, and let the water bring her feet back to life. She had been almost oblivious to the discomfort as thoughts of Asa and his cruel remarks pained her. She’d like to know who told him about Kendra and how he found out about her situation. For two cents, she could maim him. He was hell in bed, but other than that, he wasn’t much of a man. She rubbed her tingling left foot against her right instep in an attempt to get rid of the numbness.
Now what was she going to do? If those men had come home with her, she’d have gotten at least fifty dollars from them, maybe more since they looked prosperous. She took her feet out of the tub, dried them, and padded barefoot to the kitchen. She had to go to that awful salon the next morning or lose that means of getting a few dollars. Her untidy refrigerator contained milk, half a loaf of bread, three eggs, and butter. She knew that in her pantry she’d find a can of corn, a box of oatmeal, a sweet potato, four white potatoes, and a small can of Vienna sausages. She hated Vienna sausages, but it was meat, and it filled her up.
Luckily for her, the clerk at the court house had accepted her plea of a cold and high fever as reasons for not being at her court hearing at the scheduled time, and she’d been let off on probation. But that meant she had to toe the line for the next five years, considering her past offenses. Damn him! Damn everybody! She washed a cotton uniform, hung it up to dry, and went back to the kitchen to cook her supper.
Scrambled eggs, toast, Vienna sausages, and a baked potato. She sat down to eat, realized she’d put too much salt in the eggs, and a tear trickled down her cheek. She wanted to call someone, but she hadn’t paid Angela back, and neither Bert nor Kendra wanted to hear from her. Nobody had to tell her that she’d been with Asa for the last time. If only she hadn’t lost her temper and said those things to him.
Desperate, she phoned the old man. “Hi, Mr. Dunner. This is Ginny.”
“Ginny? You were just here. What’s the matter? You must be needing money. Sorry, I can’t accommodate you tonight. My daughter is here, and it looks like she’s gonna have to spend the night. Call tomorrow afternoon. If the coast is clear, you can come over.”
“All right. Call you tomorrow.” She hung up, disgusted. She hadn’t wanted a session with him, and if he thought she was strapped for money, he’d make her do everything he could think of, the depraved old coon.
She put her dishes in the dishwasher, cleaned the kitchen, and went to the living room to watch television. One of these days she’d shake the Washington, D.C., dirt off her shoes, take the first train north, and never come back. Damn! She couldn’t even do that, because she had to stay in Washington for the next five years. The court had been ready to throw the book at her. Everything she’d ever done wrong was there in front of that judge. One false move and she’d go to jail. She shrugged first her left shoulder and then her right one. “I’ll deal with it when I get to it.”
Kendra looked out of her bedroom window the next morning, saw that much of the snow had been removed from the sidewalks, and prepared to get ready for school. After turning on the radio, she learned that school was open and that students were expected to attend class.
Her phone rang. “Hi, Papa.”
“What time do you have to be at school?” She told him.
“Fine. Be downstairs in about forty minutes. We’ll take you in one of the tow trucks, and from the looks of things, we’d better pick you up after your classes and take you on to work. It’s not snowing, but it’s bitterly cold, and it’s icy underfoot.”
“Thank you, Papa. I have a nine o’clock class. I don’t know how I’d manage this without you.”
“You would. Incidentally, Sam called me last night to see if I was bringing you home. I have a feeling that you are not playing your cards right with him.”
“It takes two to tango, Papa, as you well know.”
“Yeah. This is true. See you in about forty minutes.”
She hung up and released a long, deep sigh. If her mother were half as supportive as her father, how much easier her life would have been. Well, it was too late to try repairing that damage.
Her first class was with Professor Hormel, and she was one of the few among his students who attended that morning. Hormel entered the room and closed the door, but not tightly. “I expect we’ll have a few stragglers,” he explained, “and on such a day, that’s considered normal. Thank you all for coming. First, let me say that names of the winners of the journalism writing trip are on the bulletin board in the dean’s outer office. We are all very proud of the winners.”
At the end of the lecture, Kendra tore out of the classroom and raced down the hall to the dean’s office like a teenager. At the door, she marshaled sufficient self-control to open the door and walk in.
“Where’s the list?” she asked the secretary.
“Right in front of you.”
“Hot dog!” she said aloud.
“Congratulations,” the dean’s secretary said. “Have you decided where you want to go?”
“Italy.”
“Professor Hormel said you’d choose Italy. You have three weeks in which to map out a travel and research plan, a loose one. Just indicate the place you want to go and what you’d like to write about. The department will assist you in making at least two good contacts. They must all be reachable entirely by train and bus. Then we’ll get a travel agent to help you firm things up. You’re lucky. First prize got first choice. Third prize gets what’s left of the three locales.”
“Thanks so much. I’ll see you in a couple of days.” She sat on the steps leading down to the first floor and dialed her father.
“I won. I won,” she shouted when he answered his cell phone. “Papa, I won first prize, and they’re going to send me to Italy.”
“You can’t imagine how happy I am for you, Kendra. Somehow, I knew you’d do it. When are you going and for how long?”
“Next semester, but I hope it’s not for six weeks. If Mr. Howell can negotiate a shorter period with the chairman of my department, I’d prefer that.”
“I wish him luck.”
That remark surprised her.
“You bet I do. I want you to have interesting and fulfilling experiences, but I don’t want you to stay away from Sam indefinitely.”
She phoned Sam who greeted her with loving words.
“I thought you wanted us to slow things down.”
“Dammit, Kendra, they’ve already wound down to a snail’s pace. How did you get to school this morning?”
“Papa and his friend with the towing business took me to school and they plan to chauffeur me for the remainder of the day.”
“What’s the name of the guy who owns that tow truck?”
“Grayson. When I got into the truck that first time, Papa just said, ‘This is my daughter.’ ”
“He didn’t intend for you to be friends with the guy.”
“I don’t even know what the man looks like, because I only see the back of his head. Papa sits in the front seat with him. When are we going to Alexandria this weekend?”
“If the weather’s good, I suggest we leave your place Saturday at noon. Shops and museums will be open, and you’ll get a better feel of the place. Would that suit you?”
“Fine. I can study Saturday morning and Sunday.”
“It seems like years since we spent any time together. I’m looking forward to Saturday.”
She took a great deal of satisfaction in that. Perhaps his plan was having a good effect on him. “I’m looking forward to it, too,” she told him. And as far as she was concerned, that was an understatement. But she was growing up by the hour, and he didn’t need to know that she was dying to be with him.
At work that evening, she went directly to Howell’s office and asked to speak with him. Her status was now such that Howell’s secretary gave her immediate access to her boss. “You did a great job here last night, Kendra, and Tab held down the TV station. I hope we don’t have anymore snow emergencies this year.”
“That may be too much to hope for, sir. It’s only just past mid-November. I have some news, Mr. Howell.” He cocked an eyebrow, put his right elbow on his desk, supported his chin with the ball of his hand, and waited.
“I passed the competition with the highest score, and I can do the research for my journalistic paper in Italy.”
His eyes widened. “No kidding. Italy, huh? If you want to write something fresh and interesting, stay away from Rome, Florence, Venice, and Milan. But you don’t speak Italian.” He paused. “Do you?”
“No, sir. I was planning to get along with English and modest French. You said you’d contact my Professor in the communications department. He’s Professor Hormel.”
“Yes, I did. I’ll try to reach him tomorrow and see if he’ll settle for a month.”
“Thank you, Mr. Howell. I need that experience, but I also need to pay my bills.”
“You’ll never be the same after you come back from Italy,” her father told Kendra as they drove her home that night. “You’ll feel freer there, and you’ll be where the finest things in life—the best foods, great music, and the greatest art—are ever-present and revered everywhere.”
“I’m getting excited, Papa.”
“Good. Order your passport now so you won’t have any last minute hang ups.”
She wished that Sam was going with her, but she didn’t voice that thought to her father. He liked Sam, and she wanted her father to continue liking him.
Sam’s feelings about his relationship with Kendra had begun to perplex him. He was not a wishy-washy person. He considered a problem—or what he thought was a problem—worked out a solution to it, and applied that solution. He’d done that in regard to his relationship with Kendra, but it hadn’t satisfied him. Indeed, he thought at times that he’d done the wrong thing and sometimes he believed he’d been foolish. He had deprived himself of true intimacy with her and certainly of any rights. It should be he and not her father who took her to and from work or school when necessary, and he gave up the right to advise her. He certainly couldn’t expect her to follow his suggestions now. He was not a man who wavered, and he was far from fickle, so why had he demanded that Kendra accept a proposal by which he no longer wanted to abide? As with anything else, repairing that damage would be more difficult than creating it.
He’d walked with Kendra through two blocks of Alexandria’s “Old Town” feeling that he might as well have been miles away from her. But as they stood facing the old Bruin “Negro Jail” on Duke Street, where slaves had been housed in brutal conditions while awaiting purchase, Kendra stepped closer to him and took his hand in hers. He looked down at her as she stared at the remnants of their ancestors’ wretched past and shivered visibly. He put an arm around her. She looked up at him, squeezed his hand, and walked on. Maybe she had decided to fix the mess he’d made of their relationship. He hoped so, and he intended to follow her lead.
Farther up Duke Street, with map in hand, she stopped at Franklin & Armfield Slave Office & Pen, former location of one of the largest slave trading companies in the country. Enslaved black Americans were housed in “pens,” large walled areas with males kept on one side and females on the other.
“I’d rather not linger here,” he told her. “This place has always taken the starch out of me.”
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