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  First time she set the food out, she wagged her angry finger at me and said, "But if you eat anything else besides what I set out, you'll be standing on one foot all day for punishment and so will Harmon." She knew she could get me to do right if she punished Harmon for what I done wrong.

  "And thanks a lot for telling Doris about getting the strap, as if we're here beatin' you senseless. One time standing on one foot and you'll be begging for the strap."

  When Mama Linda come, I always asked if she be better now, and every time she said yes, she was gettin' better every day. She never said nothin' again 'bout me coming to live with her, though, and when I called her every week like I supposed to, Mama weren't never home 'cept once. That time I got her, she said I just caught her on her way out and she'd call me back tomorrow 'cause she gotta run, but she didn't never call me.

  Me and Harmon talked 'bout me one day leaving and going back to live with Mama Linda, and he said he didn't want me to never leave 'cause we belonged always together. I knew he were right 'bout that, 'cause I loved Harmon and the ladies most in the world, but I knew if Mama Linda ever said, "Come on," I'd come on, 'cause I knew it were just the way it had to be, and I felt sad inside for never telling Harmon this.

  Mama Linda kept coming most every month, and one time she brung a boyfriend with her. They took me out to a playground. The boyfriend looked too bored, so the next time, she brung a different boyfriend, and we just stayed outside the stink house and did nothin'.

  I never liked any of the dudes she showed me, but just in case, I always asked if they—any of them—be my real father. That's when Mama Linda got creative, makin' up stories, one time saying my father be famous so she had to keep him a secret, and the next time saying she don't even know who my father be, 'cause she had a case of amnesia back then, too.

  Sometimes Mama Linda would forget to come see me, and lots of times she didn't stay long and took me nowhere, and lots of times she got real angry at me 'cause now she were's'posed to come out to see me twice a month and it were messin' up her other plans.

  "Grown-ups like to do grown-up things," she said. "I got plans, little face, so I got to cut this visit short. When you grow up, you'll understand what I mean, but you call me, okay? You can always call me. Here, now, I brought you some candy to share with Herman."

  I always knew when the visit were gonna be short, 'cause she'd wear something black and sexy that showed off her boobs. On days when she stayed long, she wore baggy jeans and kept her boobs tucked in. I liked her best on her long-visit days, even when we didn't get along.

  She were always trying to pick fights with me. One fight she tried to start, she said I acted too much like Harmon, only she called him Herman. "You two are always whispering. I don't like it It's rude. What are you two saying, anyway? Are you whispering about me? "You like making fun of me?"

  "We ain't talkin' 'bout you, Mama Linda. We just talkin'."

  "I don't like that boy. He's too quiet. It makes me nervous. He's always studying me and grinning. What's he grinning at?"

  "Don't he have the sweetest smile you ever did see?"

  Mama Linda hated me not fighting with her, but I knew if I did, she wouldn't never come back, so I never said thing-one against her. Then one time Doris said Mama could take me for a weekend visit, and Mama took me to a motel. Soon as we pulled into the parking lot I got scared, 'cause there be a outdoor pool right at the motel, and last time I were out with Mama Linda, I almost drowned and she disappeared.

  "Why ain't we goin' home?" I asked. "I thought we goin' home."

  "We're supposed to stay in town, little face. Maybe if this visit goes well, I can take you for a home visit sometime, but that Doris said we've got to stay close by for now. But that doesn't matter, does it? I'm never home much, anyway."

  "I know," I said.

  Mama Linda pointed across the parking lot "Look, they got a swimming pool over there, and I bet there's a Coke machine right around die corner from our room. We can drink cola all night, if we want"

  "I ain't goin' in no water," I said.

  "Sure you are, little face. You can swim in your underwear if you don't have a suit You'll be precious. Everyone will think you're just precious."

  Mama Linda had a look on her face like she was seeing it all right in front of her, everyone thinking I be precious and her getting all the glory for it.

  I didn't have to worry long 'bout drownin' in no pool, though, 'cause Mama didn't stick around long enough hardly to do much but pee. Soon as we stepped into the room, she put down the overnight case she brung along with her and run off to the bathroom. I stood in the doorway, waiting.

  "Doris said you can sing," she said after she got off the toilet and come back into the room, zippin' up her jeans. She looked at me. "Well, come on in the room and sing. Let's see what kind of good singer I've got me."

  I didn't move or say nothin'. Mama Linda put her hands on her hips and said, "Sing!" And her voice were angry, just like that.

  "I cain't sing," I said.

  "Doris said you got a pretty voice. Now, come on. Come on, little face, sing."

  I turned round feeing out the door and said again, "I cain't sing."

  Then, before I knew it, Mama Linda were shovin' me out the door and scootin' me back out to the car, and we screeched out the lot and back onto the highway.

  "You won't sing, I'm taking you back to Patsy. That's the way it's going to be, okay? You going to sing?"

  I shook my head with my chin sitting on my chest Much as I wanted Mama Linda to take me back with her, I couldn't do it I couldn't sing for her.

  Mama Linda sped on to Patsy and Pete's, saying she didn't care what I told on her to Doris, she were sick of that fet-ass woman sticking her nose into her business, anyway.

  She didn't take me all the way to the house. She pulled up to mine and Harmon's bus stop and told me to get out. "I'll come see you when you're ready to sing, so if you ever want to see me again..."

  She didn't say more. I climbed out the car, and she drove on, slow, like she were thinking I gonna come running after her.

  I caught her looking in her rearview mirror at me, and I turned from her and walked on toward the stink house. Soon as I did, Mama Linda pulled away with one long screech of burnin' rubber. I just kept walkin' on. I just kept walkin'—and singin'—'cause only thing I knew to do to keep that sick-hungry feelin' away were to sing.

  Chapter Four

  FOR MORE 'N a year Mama Linda been comin' to see me, but she told Patsy she weren't never comin' back so now Doris could give me away for adoption. Doris told me not to worry. I just had to let Mama Linda cool off awhile.

  Me and Harmon said we was happy being just us two again, but I was sad for wanting Mama Linda back sometimes, and Patsy said I was turnin' into a fatso feedin' myself up the way I did when I got to thinkin' 'bout it Sometimes, when no one were in the living room, I tried callin' Mama Linda on the phone. Two times I got her, and both times she hung up on me.

  Then Mr. James and Mrs. James come to visit us. They both had soft brown skin matching exactly like they was brother and sister, and they was both tall and skinny, too, but Mr. James had big teeth and spoke all quiet and smooth. Mrs. James spoke smooth, but she weren't so quiet and she laughed a lot. I thought they come to see me, 'cause no one never come to see Harmon before, but they come for him. They told him he could call them Mama and Daddy if he wanted to, or John and Cherise. Then they took him off somewhere for a couple of hours, and when they brung him back Harmon were changed. He wouldn't say nothin' to me hardly at all. He wouldn't say what be going on, and I got scared and raided the refrigerator that night even though Mama Linda hadn't come in months and wouldn't stay on the phone when I got hold of her. The next day after school, Patsy made me stand wobblin' on one foot till supper time for punishment for eatin' all her tomatoes. My ankles burned so much, even if I did cheat and change legs when she weren't looking.

  One Friday afternoon I couldn't find Harmon on the bu
s and I cried, and kids called me a baby 'cause I were almost seven and I were cryin', but I didn't care, 'cause all I cared 'bout was knowing where Harmon gone.

  Pete were sitting on the front stoop drinking a beer when I got home. He saw my face and said, "What you been bawlin' about?"

  "Where Harmon at?" I asked. "He not on the bus with me."

  Pete waved me away. "Aw, he's gone off for the weekend with that James couple. They're gonna adopt him. They're gonna be his parents now."

  "I ain't never gonna see him again?" I could feel hysterics shakin' my shoulders.

  "Calm down, girl. You'll see him Sunday. He ain't gone yet."

  I hid out in the basement all weekend, sucking on balled-up bread and feeling scared 'cause Harmon took his tapes with him like he wasn't never coming back At night I got sick-hungry, but I knew I couldn't eat up the kitchen no more, so I snuck outside to the lady's house across the street—the lady with the pistol in her boot—and I didn't care what happened to me. I climbed her peach tree and ate on her unripe peaches till I felt sick. Then I went on back to the stink house and yakked it all up in the toilet.

  Harmon come back to the house on Sunday and he had a book of photographs under his skinny black arm and he said it were his life book and it told the story of Mr. James and Mrs. James and their house and their dog and the school where Harmon were gonna go and everything else Harmon could think he might wanna know. He showed me his book, and then he showed Patsy and Pete, and then he looked through it on his own with me watchin' him, and Harmon were so full of happy he didn't see how I were dyin' all over. He told me that him and his new mama and daddy went fishin', and he showed me a picture again of the fishin' hole. He said they took him to a football game, too, and how he met a boy his same age, named Max, who lived close by, and how he were gonna have his own room and his very own toys that didn't have to go in a box, and how Mr. James took Harmon to his office and let him play on a computer and Mr. James said Harmon be a fast learner. Harmon couldn't stop talkin' to see how every word he said were just killin' me.

  I asked him to come on and listen to the ladies with me, and we got down on the rug same as always, only it weren't the same 'cause while Aretha were singin' Harmon kept on talking right over her voice like her voice didn't hold nothin' for him no more.

  I stopped the tape 'cause I couldn't bear what he were doing, and I said, "Ain't we never gonna see each other now, Harmon?"

  Harmon sat up and shrugged, and he hung his head down low over his lap. "Don't know." He looked up. "But you always be my best friend, Janie."

  Two WEEKS LATER Mr. James and Mrs. James picked up Harmon for good. They had their dog in the car, droolin' on the window like it couldn't wait for Harmon to be his. But I couldn't let go. I hugged on Harmon and cried an awful mess, and Patsy kept trying to pull me off, but I just got right back on him. And Harmon were crying, too, and he whispered that he loved me most, even more than the ladies, and all of me were so tore up it felt like I was bleedin' to death.

  Pete got me off Harmon and hustled him into the car while Patsy held tight to me so I couldn't latch on to Harmon no more. The car started rolling away, and I got screaming, the hurt were so bad. Then the car stopped, and I thought they was gonna give Harmon back to me. I hushed up and I saw the back window roll down.

  Harmon called to me, and I ran to the car, wantin' to reach in and snatch him through the window.

  "Here, this yours now," he said. He handed me his tape of Etta James, my favorite, and I took it and sat down in the drive with the tape in my hands and cried hysterics over losing Harmon and the ladies till my voice run dry.

  Chapter Five

  I WERE SINGIN' my own kind of blues after Harmon and the ladies gone away. I climbed into the Japanese maple tree and sung my made-up songs, holding my sound long and bending the tune with my hurt. I sang any words that come to my head, 'cause it didn't matter the song, it just mattered the singin'. All I wanted to do anymore was go down to where my songs would take me, down deep to that place that cut and healed, and cut.

  Didn't hear nothing from Harmon for a long time. Then I got a package in the mail with his name on the return address. Inside I found a shoe box different from Harmon's raggedy box. This one were new. I opened it and it smelled of new shoes, only weren't shoes in the box. Were tapes. Harmon's note said he and his new dad recorded the ladies for me so we could both have them. Asked would I send back Etta James so he could make a copy of her, too. At the end he wrote, "Love, Harmon W. James." He and Etta had the same last name. I told Patsy, who stood behind me with a baby in her arms, looking down at what I got.

  "Harmon got the same last name as Etta James now," I said.

  Patsy said, "James is a common name. Don't go making something big out of it, Janie. You always got to make something big out of everything."

  "You think they know Etta James?"

  Patsy shifted the baby onto her other hip and said, "Now, what did I just say? No, they don't know her. Woman's probably dead, anyway. I don't know why you two are always listening t:o those dead people. Now, here"—she handed me the baby—"he's put a dirty in his diaper. Go change it and don't forget to wash your hands. Oh yeah, and Doris won't be taking you to church this Sunday."

  I had started out the kitchen door but I turned round. The baby were pulling on my hair, pulling it cross my face, so I couldn't see Patsy good.

  "Why ain't she taking me?"

  Patsy turned away and picked up another baby from the high chair.

  "I got a call saying her daughter died."

  "She got a daughter? She got a daughter who dead?"

  "Yeah. What did you think? You think she don't have a life outside of you?"

  I pulled my hair out of the baby's hands. He were stinking bad but I kept standing there.

  "How old her daughter be?"

  Patsy shrugged and set her baby in the sink "She's grown up. She's probably my age."

  "How old you be?"

  "I'm thirty-six, miss nosy britches. Now go on and change that baby's diaper before his butt stains." Patsy yanked her baby's shirt up over its head and took the dish-rinsing hose and sprayed it at the baby.

  "What her name be?" I asked.

  "Who? You mean Doris's daughter? It's Leshaya. Was Leshaya. Why? Don't you believe me? You think I made it all up to make your life miserable? Think I got nothing better to do than make up ways to keep Doris away from you?"

  I turned and walked away with the baby, thinking on the name Leshaya. Were a pretty name, Leshaya—a real pretty name.

  Chapter Six

  LESHAYA. I SAID the name to myself all afternoon. I took it to bed with me and slept with it close on my tongue so when I woke up the next day it were the first word I spoke. I loved the sound of it—gentle, easy sounding, just as easy as a breath. Saying it and hearing the sound of it made me feel quiet inside, peaceful, like sitting in a empty church 'with Harmon and Doris before it filled up with people.

  I carried the name with me to school that day, keeping it in my head and not saying it loud for others to hear, 'cause I weren't ready to share it yet. Just like with the ladies and their singing, I needed to keep the name to myself and think on it awhile. During math I spelled it out different ways on a piece of paper over and over, and I covered the page with it—Leshaya, Lashaya, Lisheya. It spelled out just as pretty as it sounded, no matter how I spelled it, but I picked Leshaya. I thought how I wanted that name for me, for keeps. I wanted everybody to call me Leshaya.

  Riding on the school bus that afternoon, I were thinking that when I got to the stink house I would say to Patsy and Pete, "My name be Leshaya," then see what they do, but Mama Linda were hiding in a bush near my stop and jumped out at me before I got walking far on the road to the house. Her hand shot out from the bush and clamped down on my arm and yanked me so hard she 'bout snatched me outta my shoes. She said, "Come on," and I did 'cause I had no choice. I went on with Mama Linda to a white car waitin' on the road on the other side of th
e bushes. She said for me to scoot on in the back, and I did. She climbed in behind me, and before I could remove my backpack, turn round and get sitting with a seat belt and all, we was outta there. I got myself strapped in and looked up to the front. A skinny-faced white lady with babylike teeth were looking back at me, smiling, and a black man with a couple of mean scars on his face were driving the car.

  "Janie, this is Mitch and Shelly," Mama Linda said.

  The lady up front stuck her hand out and said, "I'm Shell."

  She had a wild, jazzed-up look in her eyes, almost like she were gonna eat me soon as she could.

  The lady shifted a look at Mama Linda, waitin', I think, for Mama Linda to explain or say something else to me.

  "We're taking you away from that stink hole you've been living in," Mama Linda said. "You're glad about that, aren't you?"

  "Yes'm, I reckon," I said, and Mama Linda nodded at Shell and said, "See, what'd I tell you, polite and sweet and pretty."

  I smiled inside myself 'cause I knew she were talking 'bout me. Shell nodded, then said to me, "Hey, you hungry? We got you a chicken sandwich at the Chik-fil-A."

  She turned round and fished 'bout for the sandwich, and Mama Linda said for Mitch to take a left and the signs would take us out to the highway. I saw Mama Linda's hands trembling, and her eyes looked 'bout as wild as Shell's. She had on makeup, but it didn't cover up her yellow-lookin' skin, and she had on her usual strong flower oils she wore for perfume, but it didn't hide her stink—a strange kind of rotten smell.

  "Where we goin'?" I asked.

  "You're going to Birmingham. Won't that be nice?" Mama Linda said. She didn't look at me. She wiped her mouth. Her lips were sore chapped.