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marching away quickly.

Feeling the resistance subside from the child's body, Chugs allowed Johnny to stand upon his feet and Johnny stood there quietly, on the steps, using the back of his hands to wipe away the tears that had formed down his face.

“Be a good boy; this is your home now;” his mother’s words floated through his head as his chest heaved in and out with short breaths. She was leaving and there was nothing he could do to make her stay. She was leaving without him and she was leaving for good.

An odd calmness gathered inside of Johnny and he surrendered as Chugs restraining hands released him entirely, letting him stand freely to watch her leave. Although Chugs lingered in the doorway Johnny felt all alone standing on top of the stairs. He stood there impassive and idol, as he watched her walk away from him.

He watched her walking further and further away as the dust lingered around her feet, clouds of dry earth formed with each step she made her way down the trodden path. She walked so rigid and stern and he waited to see his mother’s face again, but she never turned back to look at him.

Johnny observed the sight before him; squinting his eyes beneath the sun to focus on her exit.  His small teeth clinched together in the back of his mouth as he suddenly hated the fluffy ostrich feather on her big black hat that fluttered in the Alabama wind. He hated the gold- buttoned down black linen dress that moved from side to side with her sturdy strut. His fist curled up and tightened as he hated the white gloved-hands, swinging in precision with her march. Johnny’s hurt grew heavy in his chest for her as he looked at the black leather baby doll shoes that carried her away from him and he hated Martha Johnson.

He watched her leave and felt an overbearing hurt in his heart and a dark hatred that he had never known; hating the woman he knew as his mother.

A new hurt was forming inside of Johnny as he watched her move farther from his sight; disappearing down the same rocky road she had prayed for him on. Johnny only felt hopelessness from that gloomy road in front of the house and the infantile pain that kindled inside of his broken heart would pave a long path, far coarser than the one he was forsaken on.

With one long and heaving final sigh, Johnny quietly accepted the loss of his mother, as she vanished from the road and out of his life.

But his disparity was quickly doused with a strong older woman’s voice coming from within the large house.

“Who’s at my door this early in the mornin?” the woman’s husky voice came from inside.

Chugs reached his hand down to Johnny and gently held Johnny’s tiny fingers to assist in the introduction to the vociferous women questioning him.

“What’s your name again, boy?” Chugs bent to Johnny, asking in a shielded whisper, as he held Johnny’s small hand and picked up the worn leather box of luggage, walking into the large home.

Chugs rough, massive hands were hard and scaly, nothing like the soft, hands of Johnny’s mother’s he had just released, and Johnny starred at the over-sized swollen fingers. They were gigantic and felt like they would burst with each tightened bend.

Johnny looked up at the large man. His black suspenders were stretched tightly and laid around the sides of his round belly that hung like a stuffed sack, profusely over his pants. He panted roughly, walking heavy with each step, his mouth opened with faint gurgles beneath his breathing.

An older woman stood inside of the front room as they came inside. Her gray hair was pinned neatly in a bun, and Johnny was amazed at the exquisite suit she wore. The bright blue linen jacket’s broad lapel was trimmed in a white satin ribbon and the sleeves had pearl buttons aligning the back of the wrist.  The same white ribbon on the jacket was at the helm of the skirt… and Johnny was awed by her tall stance and her domineering appearance. 

 She held a wide brimmed hat the same color of her outfit, in her hand, and fanned it at the two of them in the doorway.

     “Who is this lil’ one, here?” she spoke in a rude tone, peering at him over her round, wire-rimmed glasses. Her leather oxford shoes, with thick square heels, creaked on the wooden floor as she came closer.

Johnny could smell her rose-scented perfume, as she bent down inspecting him.

“This here is Buzz’s boy by Martha Johnson,” Chugs said, awaiting her approval.

The old woman leaned back and folded her arms across the pearl necklace that lay upon her large bosom.

“So what is he doin here? - --Where’s his momma gone to? - She asked, her arms still locked across her chest as she studied Johnny.

Chugs stuttered to respond with the news,--“Uh, she um, left him here. –She say that she want you or Buzz to take him in.—She say she can’t take care of him no more, Aunt Izzy.”

She leaned back further, exposing the appearance of even larger breast underneath her suit jacket, as her hands rested around her aging waistline. She shook her head from side to side.

“—What on Earth did you say? She can’t take care of this boy? Ain’t this a shame?—You gotta be kiddin me! She can’t take care of him?—can’t take care of him?!- That’s what she sayin now?”  She raised her voice loudly, repeating the news in disbelief, looking at Chugs, and then she continued before he could answer her.

“I knew when I hired that gal that she was trouble! –Just smilin’ all day long and hangin around my boy all the time! I told both of them when I saw them near the shed, that it betta not be no funny stuff goin on. I told them that all they betta be doin together is dog-gone work around the house. Then I start hearin all this bunch of hog mess goin round town-- ‘bout my boy and Martha Johnson—and now this! Now Buzz dun had a baby with this gal and he is married to Elza, takin care of his own family across town! How does she think he supposed to take of her little bastard?!” She threw her hands in the air in disgust and went on with her ranting, standing over Johnny as she chastised Chugs.

“Oooh That Buzz! He is  just too much! His Daddy probably turning over in his grave right now, with all this stuff he’s been pullin lately!  I ain’t gonna be takin care of this little bastard, right here—Just cuz I’s this boys Grandmama! I dun told Buzz when I heard about it, I wun’t gonna be havin nothin to do with it!--Folks are already talkin too. Now, who does that lil gal think is gonna wanna raise a bastard and bring somethin like that up in their Christian home? — I tell you who! No body, that’s who!”

She held the tip of her spectacles still looking angry, over Johnny as she spoke.

“And any-ways, I got enough shit to deal with!----- Awe! --You see there!! -- You see there!"- She waved her finger in the air at Chugs.

“Ya'll makin me cuss, on a Sunday---‘--excuse me Lord—Satan must be near, the Devil must be near!” she spoke, apologetically, looking up toward the ceiling, then returned her eyes to Johnny frowning at him as she gaped over him.

“It’s gonna take a lot of rearin to turn you right boy-- Look at you!--….Lookin like Buzz with them bubble eyes.—And what color is those eyes of yours?”- She bent closer, bending down to his face.

“Look at that...He got them light colored eyes like that girl got, lookin all funny and stuff!”-She shook her head in disgust.  “It ain’t enough that he’s a bastard son,… the boy gots this strange look to him too!”

“I heard about that crazy Injun blood in some folk’s families around here. Them folks bein Blackfoot Injuns down this way and mixin with our kinds! If I would’a had any say in that- there wouldn’t be no such thang as half Colored and half Injun people around here.”

“Some folks just don’t care about nothing! -- Comin from Lord knows where and mixin blood, -- And it just ain’t right.”

She rubbed her hand lightly across the top of Johhny’s head, feeling his curly, soft and fine hair with the tips of her fingers… “Your hair ain’t so bad, I guess… But look like that’s about the only thang so far that’s good about you…” she said with approval and then continued with further observation of Johnny.

“Injuns and Colored! Humph! Mixin our kinds with others…It ain't enough that the white blood from down the line still be comin out in our chil’ren ... Lord have mercy, just a-look at your poor brother Keys; dark as night, with them blue eyes and straight hair. You know Chugs, I had always thought your Momma, got a hex put down on her when Keys was born. Here Keys come out of her, wailin’ up a storm, lookin like a dark Injun with blue eyes! Don’t know what your mama would have done without me keeping you all busy whiles you was growin up.  Her and my pore brother,  havin to raise Keys, with his funny looks,  and havin to hear  all over town bout his looks was like a fruit fly over cut peaches,- just a nuisance,  a pain in the-…” she cut her sentence short and returned her daze to Johnny.

     “And now this thang come up in here, in my house!-What am I gonna do with this little thang lookin like a mutt. Big ears, crazy eyes, ---just funny-looking!

“Can you even talk boy?” she asked pushing her fingers into Johnny's small chest, as he rocked back to regain his stance.

Johnny was petrified with silence as she continued her persecution towards the 3-year old.

“Do you even know anything bout your daddy boy?” she asked Johnny starring into his frightened face.

He blinked his eyes to fight back the tears and shook his head, No, from side to side.

“Have you ever seen him before-?”She asked.

Johnny shook his head “No” again.

“You Speak to me when I ask you something boy! You gots a mouth aint ya? ”she yelled at him this time pushing him in his chest harder.

“Ummm No,’ Johnny answered his voice, low and shaking.

“You don’t be talking to me like that boy,” she yelled in response.

“You’s best learn how to start talkin to people right now! Your momma ain’t taught you nothing! She haven’t even taught you to say, “ No,-“ma’am?” – Well, I’m telling you now, that’s how you betta always answer me or any other lady.”  She corrected him.

“No, ma’am,” he whispered, repeating in obedience.

She drew in a long sigh and released a heavy breath, as she walked behind him, with further inspection.

“Ahhhhh,--that boy of mine---Buzz Lureaux! He just oughta know how to keep his thang in his pants by now!”- She paced back and forth, inspecting Johnny from behind.

“And that gal got some nerve goin around here sayin my boy did such an indecent thang to her, too! --- She probably sayin that cuz she ain’t married yet!” She nudged Johnny’s little shoulder with her hand.  I hear the man she s’pose to marry gots kids of his own and didn’t want this lil one she had! I hear she is carrying another child that’s due soon too, that her new man don’t even want.  That’s what the town is sayin.”  She clinched her teeth together with anger.

“Now wonder she dun brought him here—cuz don’t nobody else in Selma want this boy!” She put her hands on her hips, as she stood over him, still examining the toddler from head to toe.

“Dear Lord Help Me!” She finally said, turning away and walking over to a large wall mirror hanging by the front door.

Johnny stood shaking,

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