Thursday, June 23, 2011

"Lenora"

(Check out my blog on 5/14/11 for background information on Lenora! Thanks for reading my blog!  If you enjoy it, give a heads up to your friends and invite them to join!  Enjoy!)

          It was hard for Lenora to concentrate on the new book that the Book Woman Club was reviewing,
The Color Purple, because Lenora was mad!  Not at The Color Purple, but at Onondaga County!  The county was cutting the Onondaga County Library System's budget again!  She couldn't believe it!  In this county where the city school district had a 55% high-school drop-out rate?  This city who's literacy rate was below the national average?  It was a crime!  And it was a personal tragedy! 
          The county was talking about closing the downtown branch...where Lenora worked!  She had 20 years on the job and now they were talking about letting her go!  In addition, they were going to reduce staff in all branch libraries, and she just missed the seniority level that she needed to guarantee her job.  "We have librarians who have twenty-five plus years on the job!"  Her supervisor's excuse for her probable lay-off lay false in the churning pit of Lenora's anger! "How many of those old biddies, in all those branches across the whole library system, could have more years than I?", Lenora asked herself.
          And she had asked the same question, using a better word than "biddies", of her supervisor's supervisor, and of her union rep, and of a condescending assistant to the County Executive!  They all told her that there was nothing that they could do.  The County Executive refused to see her, saying that she needed to take the matter up with her union representative!  "I'll be damned if she ever gets another vote from me!", fumed Lenora!
          Lenora was jerked out of her mad by the calling of her name.  Everyone in the room was looking at her!  Carol Jean said her name again, "Lenora, are you with us?  We were asking you to give us your take on the relationship between Celie and Shug Avery.  You know how we count on your literary expertise as a librarian in these discussions!  Now stay with us child!"  "I'm sorry, Miss Carol Jean.  My mind was wandering.  Now what was the question?"  "Lorrie says that Celie and Shug Avery were lesbians."  Carol Jean and the the group turned to look at Lorrie, who herself was of some literary notoriety.  Lorrie was the only published writer that was a member of the Book Woman Club and her opinion, like Lenora's, had weight.  Khadi-jah spoke up, "Oh, get over it!  Lesbian's are a part of our society and deserve the same rights as everyone else!  If the State Legislature does the right thing, the just thing; if we stand up and join in solidarity, the cause of our LGBT brothers and sisters, they will be given the rights of full citizenship and will be allowed to enjoy state sanctioned marriages! "  Everyone in the room turned to look at Khadi-jah in confusion as Carol Jean gently said, "Now, child! Where did all that come from?  No one said anything about the rights of Lesbians!  We were just trying to clarify whether Celie and Shug Avery were lesbians or not!  It's a little confusing with Celie and Mister having sex, then Shug Avery having sex with Mister, and then Celie and Shug Avery being under the sheets and all..."
          "It's an abomination!  I don't know why you so-called Christian women would choose this piece of literary filth to pollute your minds with!  There needs to be a cleansing...a book burning!  Let these sinful pages written in Sodom and Gomorrah burn in hell!"  Glory "Amen" Johnson jumped up, shouting and waving a huge black Bible, blazing with religious fever and righteousness!  She began speaking in tongues, tears streaming down her face!
          Glory had refused to read The Color Purple, this book that she said was full of sin and sinners!  She had brought her bible as a protest.  (Actually Glory always had her bible with her at the Book Woman Club meetings, and always had something to protest concerning the books reviewed by the women.  Usually is wasn't such a large Bible!)  During the discussion three meetings ago, when the group had voted to do a nine week review of books that featured women in transformation, she had bitterly protested The Color Purple's presence on the list and had lost.  They had voted to add it to the list.  Although the Book Woman Club members had been a party to Glory's protests before, they had never before witnessed her in full Christian regalia!  She had never jumped up and down like this, nor had she ever spoken in tongues!  This was something new and way over the top, even for Glory "Amen" Johnson!
         "Sit down, Glory!" Bessie Davis Hudson's "don't challenge me" tone accepted no disobedience, even from somebody as old as Glory!  To every one's surprise, Glory did not sit down!  She continued speaking in tongues, her jib-jabber words tumbling over themselves, her lips moving faster and faster!  Bessie rose to her feet, making a second demand for Glory to sit down!  Still, Glory did not sit down!  She started to dance, and while her feet beat out their frantic rhythm on Carol Jean's well worn carpet, Glory began to scream! She turned and pointed her bible laden hand at Thunderbird, who's eyes widened as Glory shouted, "Oh, Lord in Heaven! Deliver me from this evil!  Deliver us all from this Dark Angel of Hell!"  Thunderbird's mouth dropped open as she and everyone else, except Lenora, rose to their feet; some frightened, some confused and some, well, just plain mad!  Erica began to back away from Glory, her cafe-o- lait skin pale and sweating as she fainted!  Khadi-jah, who was standing next to her, caught her before she hit the floor!  "What the hell!"  Khadi-jah grabbed one of Carol Jean's crocheted dollies off the back of one of the living-room chairs and began to fan Erica with it.  "What the hell is going on?"  "You watch your mouth in my house, young lady!", Carol Jean shouted at Khadi-jah.  She tried to match the beat of Glory's tapping feet as she began to circle around behind her.  Carol Jean wore a white nurses uniform every Sunday at the Most Holy of Holiness Baptist Church on the south-side of Syracuse.  She knew how to take care of her sisters and brothers in the faith, who's bodies were taken by the Holy Ghost!  She reached her arms out for Glory, ready to cradle her to the floor, and to minster to her after she had finished her dance.  But Bessie, who was a Methodist, felt that there was only one course of action.  She stepped in front of Glory, drew her arm back as far as she could and slapped her face!  Carol Jean's living-room resounded with the sound of flesh meeting flesh, as Glory fell backwards from the force of Bessie's blow, and hit the floor!  The rest of the Book Woman Club member, those standing, fell back into their chairs, as if Bessie had slapped each and everyone of them too!  "Girl, you didn't have to do that!", Carol Jean said, as she gingerly lowered herself to the floor, arthritic knees creaking.  She cradled Glory's head in her lap, like Glory was being rocked in the loving arms of Jesus.  "Yes - I did!  She was out of control.  Nia! Go get Carol Jean some ice out the kitchen for Glory's face!"  Nia jumped up and ran to the kitchen, looking over her shoulder, her face as dazed as those faces sitting in the book circle.   Bessie walked over to Erica, and saw that Khadi-jah's frantic fanning had brought her around.  "Looks like she's going to be alright."  Bessie frowned as she heard Erica's barely audible praying.  "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want...".  Bessie sucked her teeth and shook her head.  "Lord have mercy!"  She took the kitchen towel covered ice from Nia, and sent her back into the kitchen to get another one.  Glory began to weep from where she lay on the floor, and Carol Jean began to softly sing to her.  "O troubled soul, be still.  Fear not, thy Father's arms enfold thee.. " "Here", Bessie handed the make-shift ice pack to Carol Jean.  "Put that on her cheek and take her on into your sitting room and give her some time to rest and pull herself together!  Carmen!  Take this little one home.  I think the poor thing has had enough excitement for one night!"  Bessie handed Carmen the second ice pack that Nia had just pressed into her hand, thanked Nia, and then helped Carmen get Erica to her feet.  Nia zombie walked over to a chair and sat down.  As Carmen lead the still praying Erica out the front door to her car, and Carol Jean took the weeping Glory "Amen" Johnson into her sitting room, Bessie got the discussion back on track.  "That's the second time in a month that Glory has interrupted one of our meetings and has kept us from finishing our review!  I won't have it!  Now, lets get back to the book review and get it finished, so we can eat!"  The women of the club picked up their books, smoothed their skirts and tucked their shocked expressions away.  They knew that Miss Bessie did not play!  "Lenora!  What were you going to add to this discussion?"  Bessie sat down, adjusted her bottom on the chair's soft cushion and looked expectantly at Lenora.
           Now, Lenora had gone back to worrying about her job when Glory begun her rant, and had tuned out Glory's performance and Bessie's dramatic response.  After accessing all of her options, Lenora had decided a plan of action.  "They better not mess with me!"  She thought.  "They better not try and take my job!  They don't know!  They just don't know!"  While Lenora knew that the county could take her job, she knew that there was something that no one could take from her.  Knowledge!  Experience!  Once you learned how to do something, no one could take that knowledge away!  No one!  Lenora smiled to herself, her lips curving slowly upward.  Once you knew how to make a bomb, you never forgot!  Besides, she still had her copy of The Anarchist's Cookbook!
          Lenora pulled herself to the edge of her chair, and sat up straight.  Good posture was very important for a librarian.  Lenora cleared her throat.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

"Erica"

          Traffic was backed up on James Street.  "It's because of the Angel!", Erica thought.  She  made the sign of the cross, kissing her trembling fingers afterward, and began to softly recite the rosary.  "Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus...".  Erica had been praying for a sign from heaven, and God had answered in the cry of a baby and on the wings of an Angel! 

          Erica walked down James Street, towards downtown Syracuse, leaving Bessie Hudson Davis' house and her first meeting attending the Book Woman Club.  The group reviewed a poem from the book called, I am the Darker Brother, a collection of poems about the Harlem Renaissance.  Although Erica had not said a word, reading the poem over and over again from her borrowed copy of the book, it had been an amazing experience to be among so many learned women.
          It was a beautiful day!  The sun was shining in a blue sky that was so often gray and full of clouds.  Syracuse's weather had multiple personalities, and from hour to hour you didn't know what you were going to get.  Snow in the morning and 90 degree heat in the afternoon!  Thunderstorms in the afternoon and a blizzard in the evening!  You just never knew!  So as Erica walked, she enjoyed the heat and the calming pace of a kid-free day!  Besides, she knew that she couldn't call her husband, Pedro, married as he was to the Saturday afternoon sports games on T.V.!  She was lucky that he had agreed to watch the kids, so that she could attend her "hen-party"!
          Erica walked home alone.  Carmen was supposed to give her a ride.  Carmen, her best friend, had not shown up at the book club meeting, despite the fact that it was Carmen who had invited Erica to join the Book Woman Club in the first place!  Carmen had been pressuring Erica for months to join the club, insistent that Erica get out of the house, away from the kids, away from Pedro.  She had told Erica that she would meet her at Bessie Hudson Davis's house and had given her directions.  Pedro had piled the kids in the car, and had given her a ride to the club meeting, not even saying good-bye as he gunned the car to show his irritation as he drove off!   Erica was there on time, but Carmen never showed.  She would have some words for Carmen when next time she saw her!  
          At first, it was hard for Erica to be at a stranger's house, to be in Miss Bessie's house, not knowing her or anyone else at the meeting.  Erica was shy, and didn't know how to do that small talk "thang"!  But Miss Bessie had made Erica feel right at home, giving her welcoming wink and smile.  It was a greeting that reminded Erica of her deceased mother's loving adoption of strangers, who became family in the matter of moments.   Oh how she missed her mother!  ....But she didn't miss the drudgery of being house bound!  It had been a beautiful day!  No diapers to change, no messes to clean up, no fussing from Pedro!
          Erica quickened her pace, not wanting to anger Pedro by taking too much time in getting home!  She told him that she would be home by 3:30, but the banana pudding the women served at the end of the Book Woman Club meeting was so good, that she couldn't resist slowly savoring a second helping!  She was running late, and nervously chewed the inside of her left cheek, feeling the sharp taste of blood invading her mouth.
          Up ahead, Erica noticed one of the young women from the Book Woman Club, (was Kaditra her name?), arguing with another young lady from the club named Thunderbird, as they stood at the corner of Teal and James.   Thunderbird!   Erica remembered her name clearly!  (What an odd name...and no last name!)  Erica slowed down, not wanting to run into their argument.  She lived on Teal and would have to walk past their confrontation.  She watched as....Kalina?...put both hands on her hip and rolled her head in obvious anger! 
          And then,... Erica heard the baby, it's cries pain-filled and coated with desperation!  Erica turned around, looking back down the length of James Street that she had traveled, trying to find out where the crying baby's disturbing howls were coming from.  "Where are you?", Erica frantically shouted down the street.  "What are they doing to you?"  The baby's wailing suddenly stopped; the abrupt silence eerie as it spread out between the rushing cars on the street.  An elderly woman who was watering the bright bouquet of flowers surrounding her house, held her watering can aloft in the air as she stopped to stare at Erica.  A jogger coming down the sidewalk behind Erica, paused as he ran in place and asked, "Are you alright, Miss?"  "Did you hear it...someone is hurting a baby!  Did you hear where the screams were coming from?"  Erica took a step towards the jogger, who took several backwards running steps away from her.  "Look, I didn't hear anything!  You need me to call somebody?"  The jogger's hand reached into the pocket of his running suit, pulling out a cell phone.   The older woman with the watering can approached Erica.  "What seems to be the matter, dear?  You're really scaring me!  Are you feeling OK?"  "You didn't hear the baby screaming?  Erica face was contorted with concern, her voice rising.  "I'm calling 911!"  The jogger's index finger moved towards the key pad on his phone.  "No! No...wait!"  Erica's mind flashed to Pedro and a picture of his angry face formed.  She knew that if the jogger called the police and Pedro had to come down and get her from the Justice Center, there would be hell to pay!  "I'm...I'm so sorry!" Erica pleaded with the jogger.  "It's just that I thought I heard something.  It's OK...OK?  It's been a long day, that's all!"  Erica turned to the woman and said, "I'm so sorry I scared you!  I got eight kids and one is just a baby!  I guess I was day dreaming and heard him in my head!"  "Yeah, sure!"  The jogger jogged past Erica, his face skeptical, but the phone now back in his pocket.  He kept turning around, watching Erica, as if he expected her to chase after him.  "Men!" The woman smiled a knowing smile at Erica.  "They don't know what it's like to be a mother and worry about them from the cradle to the grave!  I raised six of 'em myself."  Erica offered the woman a last apology and turned around to continue her journey downtown....and in that moment...Erica saw an Angel rising into the sky!  It had huge, white feathered-wings that glowed luminescent in the evening sun.  A halo of the most pure white light surrounded it's head, so bright, ...so bright, that Erica had to shade her eyes with her hands as she tracked its flight through the sky, northward, and then upward into the clouds and out of sight!

          "Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the the hour of our death.  Amen."  Erica fell to her knees on the pavement.  How could she have ever considered murder?  The Angel shamed her.  "Forgive me father, for I have sinned..."  Erica fell on her face, knocking herself out on the hard concrete!  The jogger, still paranoid and periodically looking back, saw Erica fall.  He took his phone back out of his pocket, and called 911.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Glory "Amen" Johnson

          Glory "Amen" Johnson sat in her car, stopped in the intersection of James Street and Teal Ave., muttering the lord's prayer!  Drivers honked their horns behind her, insistent, shouting obscenities at Glory as they pulled out from behind her into the braking cars of the eastbound turn lane.  The angry drivers spat out a final curse, some shaking their fists out the window, as they pulled back in front of her car and speed towards downtown.
          Glory couldn't move!  She had seen Lucifer, the deceiver! Satan!...the archangel that had been cast from heaven, after being defeated in the battle between good and evil, at the beginning of all time!  Armageddon was upon them and the end times were here!  That hot Saturday afternoon, Satan had come to the Book Woman Club and his name was Thunderbird!
           Glory closed her eyes, seeing again and again, Lucifer's transformation from woman to demon; human arms to taloned black wings.  She saw Thunderbird's face, made in the image of the almighty God, defiled!  Black razor sharp beak and evil yellowish eyes!  Glory had looked into a room of hell and she was afraid!
           Glory "Amen" Johnson knew it was her failures that had brought Lucifer to her; to Syracuse, to the Book Woman Club!  She hadn't been vigilant enough, hadn't prayed enough, hadn't pressed hard enough to safe the souls of the woman in the Book Woman Club.  Oh, she had tried!  Over and over again she had tried to get the woman to read the Holy Bible; to review God's Word instead of the evil writings that they seemed doomed to gravitate towards!  "The Color Purple", full of incest and homosexuality!  James Baldwin, Langston Hughes, Tennessee Williams;  homosexuals!  Those murder books by Jeffery Deaver and by James Patterson; heathen shrines to serial killers and blood!  They read books dripping with cuss words and profanity, reading whole passages of sacra-ledge out loud!"  "Evil begets evil...", Glory "Amen" Johnson murmured words that her mother had repeated to Glory throughout her childhood, "...and God don't like evil!" 

          Another angry driver threw his profanity out the window, and it landed with a thud on her hood. Glory "Amen" Johnson opened her eyes.  She looked around, shading her eyes in the bright sun and realized that no one else seemed to be upset by Lucifer's appearance, his flight into the sky in broad daylight!  "Was I the only one who had seen Thunderbird's change?", Glory pondered out loud.  And then she knew; her words left hanging in the small space of her car's front seat answered themselves.  She was the only one who had seen the evil one!  She had failed to safe the women in the Book Woman Club and now Satan was here to take her down to hell!
          Glory "Amen" Johnson pressed down hard on the gas peddle, the car taking flight as it carried her home.  She drove as if the hounds of hell were chasing her!  She continued to pray, her hands tightly gripping the stirring wheel of the car, her silent praying turning into a eerie keening as Glory began to call upon the name of Jesus.  "Jesus in heaven, oh Jesus!  Oh, Jesus!  Deliver me from evil!  Please, Lord!  Deliver me!"
          Reaching the corner of Oak and James, Glory made a screeching left turn onto Oak, ignoring the three massive Victorian homes that neighbored her house, and spun into her driveway!  She threw the car into park and yanked out the key.  Grabbing her purse, she ran to her front door.  Glory's eyes frantically searched the sky as she fumbled with the front door, finally unlocking it after dropping the keys twice!  She threw herself on her knees, slamming into the hardwood of the living room floor, pressing her hands together in a church steeple and again took up her desperate call to Jesus!  "Oh, Jesus, save us sinners!  Save us!  Jesus in heaven, hear my prayer!  Oh, Jesus!"  She then began to speak in tongues, guttural sounds rising from her throat!  A language known only to her soul bounced across the ten foot ceilings of her Victorian paradise, causing the cathedral windows in her dinning room to ring softly like bells.  Glory "Amen" Johnson rocked and moaned, her tongue flying, her knees aching on the unforgiving hard wood.   And then she passed out, delivered from her fears, delivered from the horrifying reality of Thunderbird's transformation into Lucifer's flight!








       

Saturday, June 11, 2011

"Thunderbird"

Thunderbird followed Khadi-jah out of Bessie Davis Hudson's house and shouted, "Hold up! You got a minute?""  Khadi-jah turned around, glancing at her wrist-watch. "Sure, but I am in a hurry!  I have to get to this meeting about the school budget cuts. Your name's Thunderbird, isn't it?".   "Yes", Thunderbird put out her right hand and Khadi-jah returned her squeeze of introduction.  "Khadi-jah."   Their hands parted and Khadi-jah said,  "Look, I'm in a hurry and can't talk now.  I usually take the bus, but it's such a beautiful day, so I'm walking."  "I bus it too!  I'm heading towards downtown.  I live off Teall Ave.  Where's your meeting?", Thunderbird asked.  "Downtown." Khadi-jah again glanced at her watch.  "Why don't I walk with you?   I wanted to talk to you about the Book Woman Club", answered Thunderbird.  "O.K.",  Khadi-jah replied and began to walk briskly down Sunny Street, her urgent pace challenging Thunderbird to keep up with her in the humid summer heat.  Khadi-jah's 5'11" frame towered over 5 foot Thunderbird, engulfing her in the rise and fall of her shadow.  They walked in silence the half block to James Street and then turned left onto James, heading for downtown Syracuse.  Thunderbird broke the silence with a flurry of words.  "I'm a writer and I think I want to write a blog about the women in the club...I mean,  I've been coming to meetings for three months now and I just find the whole thing so fascinating!...you know, not just reading the books...I mean, don't get me wrong, I love reading and I love the discussions that take place, but, what really fascinates me are the women that are in the club...I mean, wow!...there are truly some interesting characters attending these meetings...don't you think???...I mean I don't want to spy on anyone or anything, but I just think these meetings would  make a great story!"  Thunderbird's words flew through air, making Khadi-jah's ears pop, as air rushed in to fill the vacuum created by their lightning speed.   Khadi-jah spoke slowly as she tried to regain her barrings.  "You want to write a blog about the Book Woman Club?"  "Yes, I do! See, I just moved back to Syracuse from NY City...I haven't lived here since high school and, I mean,  I've wanted to connect with people interested in art and culture..I mean, in New York you can just step out your door and there's a concert in the park or a violinist playing on a street corner...and then there's all kind of theaters and plays going everyday somewhere in the city...and  I saw an announcement in the Syracuse New Times about the Book Woman Club and I thought, wow, that would be a great way to find out about the cultural offerings of Syracuse, so I started coming, but I need to know some background about the women that attend and I thought you might be able to help me...I mean...you seem to have a pulse on the the inner workings of Syracuse life...could tell me about some of the woman - where they're from...how they came to be in the club, I mean, some of the dynamics in the group, some of the secrets...You lived here long?"  Khadi-jah stopped walking.  "What?"  "Have you lived in Syracuse long?" Thunderbird asked.  "All my life." Khadi-jah shook Thunderbird's splatter of words off her face.  "Wait!", she said as she turned to face Thunderbird.  She put both hands on her hips and her neck began to roll.  "Let me get this straight!  You want to write a blog about the Book Woman Club and you want me to what?...be your spy?  I don't betray the people I associate with.  Who the hell do you think you are - McCarthy?"  Khadi-jah felt her anger beginning to heat up inside of her.  Who was this Thunderbird girl and why did she think I would  be her spy?  I don't even know her,  Khadi-jah fumed, the heat of her anger bursting into flames!  She turned and began to walk away from Thunderbird, her long legs eating up the sidewalk as she tried to distance herself from this Nazi fascist!  "Wait, wait!  It's not like that.  I don't want you to be a spy!  I just wanted to ask you a few questions!  Wait, Khadi-jah, wait!  I didn't mean to offend you!"  Khadi-jah ignored Thunderbird's pleas, crossing the street as the light changed to red, just making it across the street as cars began to turn behind her.  Thunderbird stopped walking, trapped across the street from Khadi-jah by the barrier of turning cars.  Khadi-jah picked up her pace, speeding down James Street as if the devil himself was pursuing her.  "The nerve of that bitch!", Khadi-jah muttered to herself.  "She better not get up in my face again!"  Thunderbird stood on the corner, watching Khadi-jah's fading form.  She looked up into the sky, tilting her head back at an impossible angle.  She spread her arms out to her sides like wings...and flew off into the air!

Thursday, June 2, 2011

"Khadi-jah"

Dear readers:  You will want to go back and review my post about "Bessie Davis Hudson" (April 30th, 2011) to understand this posting. Not all of the postings will be in sequence, so you may read about a Book Woman Club character in one meeting this week, and then the next posting may be about a different character that is attending a different Book Woman Club meeting!  I will try to not post about more than two Book Woman Club meetings at a time and will always give you information that will help you keep informed about the action...like what you are reading now!  Enjoy!

          "Where does she get off ordering me around!"  Khadi-jah fumed as she carried the tray of banana pudding into the room.  She rolled her eyes behind Miss Bessie's back, knowing that it was not a good idea to roll them in front of her!  Khadi-jah didn't like to admit that she was intimidated by this matriarch of the Book Woman Club, but she was.  It made her all the more angrier that she just couldn't seem to speak up for herself with this elder!  Khadi-jah began to hand out bowls of the warm banana pudding.  "Thank you sweetie!" said Miss Bessie smiled and winked at Khadi-jah as she took her bowl,  making Khadi-jah cringe inside.  Miss Bessie had just finished yelling at her and ordering her into the kitchen and was now calling her sweetie?  "She should have taken my side!" thought Khadi-jah, resentfully.  As she handed Glory "Amen" Johnson the last bowl of banana pudding, she had to stop herself from dumping the warm gooey mess into Miss Glory's lap!  Glory "Amen" Johnson seemed to sense Khadi-jah's thoughts. Miss Glory took the bowl from Khadi-jah and held it mid-air for a dramatic moment or two, while she stared, unsmiling, at Khadi-jah.  Miss Glory lowered the bowl into her lap, and continued to stare at Khadi-jah while she lifted a blind spoonful of the dessert to her mouth.  "Bitch!" Khadi-jah thought as she turned away.  Khadi-jah sat down hard in her chair.  "Sweetie," Khadi-jah turned to look at Bessie Davis Hudson, getting another smile and wink from the older woman. "You gonna eat some of Karen's banana pudding?  She really out did herself this time!" "No-thank-you-Miss-Bessie", Khadi-jah hurriedly mumbled.  "I don't eat sweets anymore.  Sugar weakens the brain and muddles your thinking."  Miss Bessie smiled and winked again as she lifted a pudding filled spoon to her lips.  Khadi-jah crossed her arms in front of her chest and mentally detached herself from the Book Woman Club meeting. Khadi-jah was angry!
          Khadi-jah was always angry! She couldn't remember a time when she wasn't angry.  She was angry at her mother and father for forcing her to spend her childhood in a white suburb and she was angry at the "nigger-calling" white kids that tormented her everyday at school!  She was angry at her turn-coat Republican older brother who thought he was white! She was angry at the United States for the way it had enslaved Africans and for how it continued to treat African-Americans like second-class citizens, despite having elected an African-American President!  She was angry at Glory "Amen" Johnson and her sanctimonious preaching about "Christianity being the only true religion", and angry at Miss Glory for constantly throwing her narrow views all up in Khadi-jah's face, like Khadi-jah was a heathen because she had converted to Islam!  And most of all, Khadi-jah was angry at herself because, try as she might, she could not stop herself from being so angry!!!
           Khadi-jah's anger made it hard for her to feel like she fit in anywhere.  She would join different groups, hoping to fit in.  She would at first be quiet, try listening instead of speaking, and she would carefully choose her words when she did decide to speak.  But then the heat would rise up in her.  Waves and waves of anger would wash over her, becoming a tidal force that she could not hold back!  Then she would find herself on her feet, sometimes a fist raised in the air, yelling and pontificating like a Baptist preacher trying to save doomed souls in hell! 
         Most of the time, after these episodes, Khadi-jah would not return to the group that she had "performed" in front of...too embarrassed to show her face again.  She hadn't been back to any of the meetings of the African-American Peoples Revolutionary Communist Party since she had delivered a 15 minute tirade about their lack of commitment to the plight of Woman Workers.  The members had voted against Khadi-jah's suggestion that they chain themselves to the dance polls, inside of a strip joint on the north-side of Syracuse, in order to show solidarity for the exploited workers of the exotic dance industry.  The Party members, instead, agreed to hold "teach-ins" to educate the public about the abuses of the industry.  They met Khadi-jah rant with silence, not one of them saying a word after her rant.  She remembered how she slowly sank down into her chair, her chin dragging painfully on the floor.  How she intently looked at the intricate henna design on the top of her African sandal-ed feet, unable to meet her fellow Comrades silent eyes.
          The Book Woman Club was the only organization that Khadi-jah had returned to over and over again despite, her dramatic, and more often than not, verbally abusive outbursts.  Because...while her mother and father refused to talk to her after a hate filled rant about their inadequate parenting skills and retarded understanding of how to raise an African-American child; while her brother didn't talk to her because he feared, that when she finally got arrested under the Patriot Act for her subversive talk against the government of the United States of America, that she would take him down with her and he would loose his job, his freedom and his Republican Party membership; and while the African-American Peoples Revolutionary Communist Party thought she was too radical in her thinking to be a part of their mission to shape the U.S. into a Utopian Communist society...Bessie Davis Hudson always called her "sweetie", and smiled and winked at her after one of her anger filled performances.
          Khadi-jah tuned into the meeting long enough to listen to Rose-Ann come up with still another excuse to explain why she could not offer her home for the next meeting.  Khadi-jah was about to offer her apartment, when Karen volunteered to hold the next meeting at her house.  Khadi-jah stood up saying, "Well, I have to get going.  I have a meeting to get to.  I'm helping to organize a candlelight vigil, to be held in front of city hall next Monday night, protesting the city school district lay-offs brought on by cuts in the budget made by the City of Syracuse Common Council.  I'm sure some of you will want to attend to show support for our children! They are our future!"  "See you next week, sweetie!" Bessie got up and gave Khadi-jah a big hug. Khadi-jah briefly held onto Bessie's circle of love, and then stepped back, embarrassed by this public display of affection.  But, Khadi-jah knew where she would be next Saturday afternoon at 1:00.  No protest could keep her from attending the next meeting of the Book Woman Club.