Jocelyn's River

Jocelyn's River: Chapter 6

        I entered my room, shut the door, and leaned my back against it.  Never in all my sixteen years have I witnessed such an altercation with my father that revolved around me.  It was all for River.  My father was pigheaded and it was his way or the highway.  I was afraid of that because I lost hope of ever seeing River again. 

            Click! It wasn’t until I heard the sound that I came back to earth.  In slow motion, I walked to the window and looked down to see River.  A tiny rock was in his hand, but he promptly dropped it the moment we saw each other.  Stuck on the other side of the window was a ripped piece of cardboard that read, “See you in two weeks. Take it easy, baby.”  He smiled and winked at me before leaving.  My heart felt light as a feather after that.

        During those two weeks, I kept myself busy.  I agreed to tutor a young lady in fourth grade on Mondays and Wednesdays.  Her mother brought her by the house every morning.  Sitting around the house became tedious.  I missed riding my bicycle and being able to get around without my parents thinking that they ought to help me. 

            When my ankle was devoid of the cast after those two weeks, I woke up to a cool Tuesday morning and decided to ride my bike.  After a shower, I brushed my hair up and tied a ribbon around the ponytail, covered myself in a pastel pink blouse of short sleeves, navy blue capri pants, and a pair of white Keds.  Mama was already up and getting dressed for work.  Daddy was gone before I woke up.  Because I did not want her to be concerned about my absence, I entered the bedroom where she was buttoning the last button on her blue maid dress in front of the mirror.  Sneakily, I came up behind her kissed her on the cheek.

            “Oh!” she screamed.  “Jocelyn, what are you doing up so early, girl?”

            “I wanted to go for a ride on my bike,” I said.  “I think I might go visit Kenny and Michelle and babysit for her when she goes to work.”

            When she had buttoned the top button, she sat on the bed to put on her shoes.

            “You seem to be in a much better mood today,” she commented.  “I'm mighty glad for that.”

            I put my hands in my pockets and walked to the bed and sat on it.  She pulled her white stockings to her knees and I watched her.  My mother was a hardworking woman.  She could have been a housewife since Daddy could support us all, but she wanted to work and I respected that.

            “So?”  I urged with a cheeky chin and my eyebrows raise.

            “So what, honey?” she asked. 

            “Is that okay with you?”

            “Honey,” she began and took a deep breath afterward.  “Your father has your bike locked up somewhere.”

            “What?” I gasped.

            “I'm sorry, Jocelyn.  He was afraid you'd try to ride out to be with River.  I can get Bessie to drive you to Michelle's house before we go to work if you want?”

            And that's what I did.  I rode in the backseat of Miss Bessie Florence's 1958 black Oldsmobile and listened to her gossip about the white people she worked for.

            “Chy, that white trash hussy Holly came over to the Yonces’ house the other day.  I know she got her eyes on Mr. Frank.  I know it!”

            “Bessie that has nothing to do with you.  You do your best to stay out of it.”

            “Hm-hm,” Bessie hummed with her lips pressed in a hard line.  She combed her fingers through her short gray wig.  Ms. Bessie came to a stop in front of Michelle's house.