Church or no...
Jersey struggled with the question when she opened her eyes. It was as cold as a cave in her room. October, she continued to sleep with the air on and the fan running. Her husband, Marshall hated sleeping in the cold room, but she supposed he'd gotten used to it over the years, maybe not. Pulling her housecoat over her shoulders, she forced herself out of bed, and ran down the hall to turn off the air.
When she reached the thermostat she glanced into the living room and glimpsed her brother, Damon. He was up, covered in blankets, watching television. Without a word Jersey turned the air off, the heat on, and ran back into the room.
It was Sunday, 7 o’clock in the morning, and she wanted to sleep another hour. Get in every minute before she got up and faced the real world without Marshall. But, Damon was there, he'd come the night before and had kept her up until the wee hours of the morning.
Jersey shuffled beneath the blankets and was getting ready to try for another hour of sleep when she heard the first knock on the door. She pretended not to hear the thumps. Then came another knock, then another, followed by the creaking door, and a slither of light from the hall.
“Jersey,” Damon called. He tried to whisper, but his attempt was futile.
“What!” Jersey yelled. She lifted her head from beneath the blanket, and fixed the silk-blue bonnet she wore on her head. She just wanted to get back to thinking of her life before everything had changed, and didn't want to hear Damon's complaints about one thing or another.
“You believe your sister?” Damon asked. He walked into her room without an invitation.
“Come on in, Damon,” she said. At least he wasn't talking about Gina, but she was still annoyed with her brother's intrusion, "what are you talking about?” She asked.
“I’m mad as hell.”
“About what?”
“Cordelia!" he said in a huff and he sat down on the edge of Jersey's bed. "She turned my phone off.”
“She just turned your phone off, after all this time, just like that?" Jersey asked, surprised. "Why would she do that?”
Jersey poked her lips out, and she glared at Damon with narrowed eyes.
“Because, she fucked up.”
“You don’t help pay the bill, what you expect.”
“I know, but it’s fucked up. That’s all. First Gina, now Delia." Damon said before he left the room with a slam of the door.
Jersey watched Damon leave with sluggish shoulders and a dropped head. Against her better judgement, she picked up her cell phone and dialed Cordelia’s number. Once Cordelia answered, Jersey went right to the point.
“Delia, you turned Damon’s phone off?”
Cordelia let out a loud sighed, “No I didn’t turn his phone off,” Cordelia said, she sounded as if she was mocking Jersey.
“I thought maybe you turned his phone off because he hasn't paid a bill."
"Not one." Cordelia said.
Jersey laughed, "You know he can't stand being without his phone."
“Jersey," Cordelia said, her tone was rude but polite, "I don’t have to pay for his phone, but all the phones are off, including mine.”
“Oh--He’s over her crying, like his phone is the only one that's off.”
“Tell him to stop crying, and trying coming up with some of the $170 bucks to get them back on. Who does he have to call anyway--ain’t like he has a job or anything? He ain’t calling the fucking police…that’s who he needs to call. Gina called here and told me how Damon jumped on her last night, and he worried about a phone.” Cordelia said and she hung up .
Not surprised at Cordelia’s rant, Jersey threw the phone on her night stand. The heat was just starting to rise. The cold being replaced by the warmth spilling out of the vents. She remained beneath the blanket. From her pillow she could see the big tree outside her window. The leaves blew about in the wind. She could tell by the way they waved about in a wild manner that it was cold. That and dark clouds were giving way to a gray sky. Her eyes rested on Marshall’s wallet. He left it on the window sill. He left behind a bunch of things when he departed. His afro pick was still on the dresser. Every so often Jersey checked to see if the single strain of his hair was still stuck between the teeth. Marshall had been gone a month, had went to live with another woman.
Jersey sometimes forced herself not to think of Marshall, tried, but without fail every hour he popped into her mind. She turned away from the pick, once again, tried to put him out of her mind. It was difficult, as they had did everything together. There were times when she felt alone, but at least she had her son's Solomon and Elisha, that gave her satisfaction. But they were grown now. Had their own lives. She had her siblings, of course. Their constant intrusion in each other lives meant someone would always be concerned about her life. Most of the time Jersey was grateful to have them, but there were other days when she wanted to be alone, to dwell on the memories. They had so many memories.
"Not going to spend the day thinking of you, Marshall," Jersey said. She got out of bed and searched about the room. She still wasn't sure if she was going to church, but she was not going to sit in the house with Damon, talking about Gina all day.
Jersey opened her bedroom door and could hear Damon in the living room on the house phone. Damon was going to find two things in life, a phone and someone to talk to.
"Yeah…yeah,” he was saying to the poor person on the other line.
Damon wasn’t young anymore. He was forty-four, spoiled, and dependent upon his sisters to always bail him out of trouble. He’d already stayed with Cordelia and Angel that year, and now it was Jersey’s turn. He came the night before, he had called Jersey at 3’ o’clock in the morning to see if she would pick him up from the train station. Jersey was hesitant to answer, but after he called three times, back-back, she answered. He told her he was in a fight, and that’s what got her out of bed.
“I beat the shit out of her,” Damon said when she picked up from the train station. He crawled into the passenger seat and slammed Jersey's car door.
Jersey was shocked to see his face all scratched up and coagulated blood was spread in places.
“Is she alright?”
“I think so.”
“You beat the shit out of her? “ Jersey repeated, her tone sounded as if she wasn't convinced of that fact. "Why would you do something like that--anyway?”
“I don’t know, I just snapped on the bitch.”
“That’s messed up. She should have called the cops.”
“I know. But she knew she was wrong, that’s why she didn’t call the cops.”
“One of yah going to get killed. “
“She was asking for it," Damon said. "She sneaks out the bedroom and calls her baby daddy over to smoke. I come out, this nigger rolling up a blunt. Then when I start talking shit, Gina takes the motherfucker on the porch and smokes, if that ain't bad enough," Damon said, and he tapped Jersey on the shoulder, "after they finish smoking, she leaves with him. Don't come back until after 1. Now that ain’t some shit?”
Jersey nodded her head—she understood having fist fights. Her and Marshall used to fight all that time, but not like Damon and Gina. They fought every day, and every other weekend she put Damon out.
“You should have left. That was her way of telling you she don’t want you no more.”
“But that’s some fucked up shit.”
“She's a whore, with a bunch of kids and no fucking baby daddy. She’s trying to make it. What you think she’s looking for right now?”
“I know a nigger with some money.”
“Right, she looking for a man that can hold her down," Jersey said. "You can’t do it, Damon. The police hot on your trail. All you can give that girl is a knock on the door from the men in blue. You don’t have a job, always high on pills..."
"I know all that Jersey. I know," he interrupted.
Jersey didn't want to be mean. She hated that she sounded cold, but it was time he heard the truth. When she reached the light at the corner of her street, she turned and looked at her brother. "You need to turn yourself in, worry about your fucking daughter and leave Gina alone. I don't know what Gina was thinking, she should have called the police as soon as she got home and found you were still there."
Damon had a dumb look on his face that made Jersey want to scream, “You right, she should have," he said.
“Did you make sure she was okay?”
“Yeah. She was alive, standing at the door with a knife in her hand. I left her ass standing right there, with blood dripping from her nose, her hands up like this.” He lifted his hands to show how Gina stood. “I got the fuck out of there.”
"You should have," Jersey said to him
Jersey scanned the line of dresses in her closet, and chuckled. The thought of Gina standing at the door made her laugh. She decided to wear a gray dress. It was a sad situation, but even in all that sadness, funny shit happened. Jersey walked over to the mirror and put the dress up to her frame. Yes, that would do for church. “Thanks Gina,” Jersey said as she stared at herself in the mirror, "I'm going to church, because we all need prayer."
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