Ayana Williams had been a top student in her Birmingham high school and kept up the good work through college, majoring in Economics with a minor in Accounting at Morehouse, an HBCU in Atlanta. Her parents were behind her all the way, though her father had run into some trouble just about the time she moved to Atlanta. Lawrence Williams had gone to prison for a year for destruction of property during a protest in Montgomery. When he returned home, he was not the same man. Ayana was glad she’d moved out. There was nothing she could do to give him his life back except to make him proud of her in some way.
But then she met Jamal Johnson, and her resolve to be an independent career woman slowly dissolved. Jamal was charismatic, brilliant, a labor organizer and a musician. He inundated her with his needs and somehow made it seem that the most important thing she could do in life was to fulfill them. The miasma of love— the desire for his babies— she hadn’t realized how mesmerizing the call of nature, or maybe just the lure of traditional role-playing, could be. It was fortunate that she managed to graduate, because there was frequent need for her to work, even full-time.
She loved Jamal, and eventually lost him, but not after Yejide, Akin, Morayo, and Folu were born, and not after Jamal had given as much love as he was able to each of them. Folu, the youngest, was six years old when his father left— to be with another woman, to try another career. It wasn’t as if Jamal were gone entirely. But it certainly was different. Yejide had been 15 at the time, and she took it hard. She blamed her mother. Years later Ayana was still cleaning up after Yejide’s disasters and disappointments. Though the oldest, Yejide was still living at home. At least she was looking after Folu, now a teen himself.
Ayana still went by “Mrs. Johnson” most of the time. It seemed to satisfy employers’ expectations. At her age, she didn’t expect anyone to call her “Ayana” except her old friends. She’d had numerous accounting positions over the years, and enjoyed her tasks now at S&C Medical Equipment. But she needed more hours and more benefits. Predictably, given Yejide's thoughtless ways, a grandchild was coming.
Orville Campion was hovering over his desk this morning looking slightly stressed, but he greeted Mrs. Johnson and seemed to want to linger in conversation more than usual. Ayana always tried to be cheerful, and she did so now, telling him about Folu’s wonderful performance with the high school jazz band. She showed Orville a few moments of video on her phone. “I love the piano,” said Orville quietly. “I wanted to play at one time.”
NOW, thought Ayana. “Mr. Campion, Folu’s lessons are costly. It takes sacrifices to grow talent. I have made some, and there are more to come. I need to be full-time here; you know I enjoy it, and I have saved you a lot of money and trouble over the last few years. I would very much like to stay. Will you help me to do that?”
Orville did not seem surprised or displeased; he seemed relieved. It had been a while since Mrs. Johnson’s last request, and he’d been waiting for another. But most of all, he wanted to do some RIGHT THING today, just one right thing.
“Yes, Mrs. Johnson. I think it’s time we gave you those hours. I know Mr. Stillman will agree.”
Ayana was stymied for a moment. She hadn’t expected such rapid capitulation. She’d been trying for this for two years now. But then in a burst of glee she tucked her phone quickly in her jacket pocket and grabbed Orville’s hand, manipulating it into position and starting to shake it, then changing her mind and holding and patting it. “Once I begin full-time work here, Mr. Campion, which I guess will be in a few days, I want you to call me Ayana. Please!”
“I will, Mrs. Johnson! And you can call me Orville, and we’ll all be more like a family, don’t you think?” Orville didn’t really know what he was saying, but out the words came. The strange feeling of gratitude for his ability to improve someone’s life, his spontaneous appreciation of Mrs. Johnson’s son’s music, these were unexpected emotions. It wasn’t that his worries about his marriage vanished, but now there was something good to focus on, something that might brighten his view of the place he spent most of his waking hours.
— Macoff
But then she met Jamal Johnson, and her resolve to be an independent career woman slowly dissolved. Jamal was charismatic, brilliant, a labor organizer and a musician. He inundated her with his needs and somehow made it seem that the most important thing she could do in life was to fulfill them. The miasma of love— the desire for his babies— she hadn’t realized how mesmerizing the call of nature, or maybe just the lure of traditional role-playing, could be. It was fortunate that she managed to graduate, because there was frequent need for her to work, even full-time.
She loved Jamal, and eventually lost him, but not after Yejide, Akin, Morayo, and Folu were born, and not after Jamal had given as much love as he was able to each of them. Folu, the youngest, was six years old when his father left— to be with another woman, to try another career. It wasn’t as if Jamal were gone entirely. But it certainly was different. Yejide had been 15 at the time, and she took it hard. She blamed her mother. Years later Ayana was still cleaning up after Yejide’s disasters and disappointments. Though the oldest, Yejide was still living at home. At least she was looking after Folu, now a teen himself.
Ayana still went by “Mrs. Johnson” most of the time. It seemed to satisfy employers’ expectations. At her age, she didn’t expect anyone to call her “Ayana” except her old friends. She’d had numerous accounting positions over the years, and enjoyed her tasks now at S&C Medical Equipment. But she needed more hours and more benefits. Predictably, given Yejide's thoughtless ways, a grandchild was coming.
Orville Campion was hovering over his desk this morning looking slightly stressed, but he greeted Mrs. Johnson and seemed to want to linger in conversation more than usual. Ayana always tried to be cheerful, and she did so now, telling him about Folu’s wonderful performance with the high school jazz band. She showed Orville a few moments of video on her phone. “I love the piano,” said Orville quietly. “I wanted to play at one time.”
NOW, thought Ayana. “Mr. Campion, Folu’s lessons are costly. It takes sacrifices to grow talent. I have made some, and there are more to come. I need to be full-time here; you know I enjoy it, and I have saved you a lot of money and trouble over the last few years. I would very much like to stay. Will you help me to do that?”
Orville did not seem surprised or displeased; he seemed relieved. It had been a while since Mrs. Johnson’s last request, and he’d been waiting for another. But most of all, he wanted to do some RIGHT THING today, just one right thing.
“Yes, Mrs. Johnson. I think it’s time we gave you those hours. I know Mr. Stillman will agree.”
Ayana was stymied for a moment. She hadn’t expected such rapid capitulation. She’d been trying for this for two years now. But then in a burst of glee she tucked her phone quickly in her jacket pocket and grabbed Orville’s hand, manipulating it into position and starting to shake it, then changing her mind and holding and patting it. “Once I begin full-time work here, Mr. Campion, which I guess will be in a few days, I want you to call me Ayana. Please!”
“I will, Mrs. Johnson! And you can call me Orville, and we’ll all be more like a family, don’t you think?” Orville didn’t really know what he was saying, but out the words came. The strange feeling of gratitude for his ability to improve someone’s life, his spontaneous appreciation of Mrs. Johnson’s son’s music, these were unexpected emotions. It wasn’t that his worries about his marriage vanished, but now there was something good to focus on, something that might brighten his view of the place he spent most of his waking hours.
— Macoff
Dang! What a compelling story written with compassion and anticipation!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Marmar! This is a continuing "novella" that started on Day 1 ("Done in Secret" was the prompt) with Orville's wife finding the receipt for his secret vasectomy. if you are interested, just put "Macoff" in the search bar, and go by date. I have no idea what will happen next~! It depends on the prompts!
DeleteAnd Orrie still doesn't even know that Edwina knows about the vasectomy, does he? Hmmm. Well, I like Mrs. Johnson. Looks like the new baby may be the thing that solves problems? We shall see, we shall see!
ReplyDelete