a very nasty bump under that wrap. The doctor said you will be fine in a few days.”
“How did I get here? How long has it been?”
“You’ve been here all day. These nice women over here found you.” She pointed to the women wearing red hats, sitting patiently in a corner of the hospital room.
Alma noticed a little bit of everything had gone into the making of the hats—silk ribbon, tulle, beading, and yard after yard of material. One of them stood up. She was white and had a big, round, pretty face with an unhealthy yellowish color to her skin, like uncooked chicken.
“My name is Delilah, but my friends call me Sister Dee, and these are Sisters Joy, Stephanie, Sarah, Yvette, and Magdalena.” The ladies smiled and waved hello at the calling of their names. “We are the Red Hatters.”
“We were walking by and saw you fall against the window. We had to break down the door to get to you. Some fool left the gas on! But don’t you worry your dear heart, Sisters May and Aubrey are there now, making sure the place gets aired out and the door gets fixed. They will leave your key with the building manager.”
“Did you go through my stuff?” Alma asked accusingly.
“Why, of course not,” Sister Dee replied.
“Momma, be nice,” Angel whispered through clenched teeth.
Alma rolled her eyes, dismissing the chastisement. “How’d you get here so fast if no one went looking through my stuff?”
“I called the house to wish you a happy birthday, and one of the Red Hats, Sister Joy, I believe, told me there was an accident and police were in your house, so I hopped the first plane I could to come see you. Now, why don’t you thank these nice ladies for being kind enough to look out for you, Momma?”
“Thank you,” Alma said.
“You are quite welcome. Anyway, we just wanted to make sure you were OK. We’ll be getting on now and will certainly keep you in our prayers. Take care,” Dee said, and she beckoned the others to leave.
Alma and Angel sat in silence as the women left.
“I want to go home,” Alma said, attempting to sit up. The pain in her head prevented any real movement.
“You’re not going anywhere right now! And when you do leave here, you are coming home with me.”
“I don’t want to go to Texas.”
“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you! Suicide, Momma? No, I already made the arrangements.”
“You know I don’t fly.”
Angel showed her two Greyhound bus tickets.
“What about Chubbsy Wubbsy? What’s he going to say about this?” Alma asked.
“Darryl said it would be fine with him.”
“He really said that?”
“Yes. He understands our bond, and besides, if he didn’t like it, he’d have to lump it elsewhere,” Angel said defiantly. Alma liked this strong will of hers. It reminded her of her own self.
“I’m not giving up my apartment! All my children were born and raised there.”
“I’m not saying you have to give up nothing. I just think you need to get away from all the memories for a while, until you have a chance to heal. Some sunshine and fresh country air will do you good.”
“How long is a while?” Alma asked.
“Three months.”
“I was thinking three weeks. You know me and Fatso won’t make it past three days.”
“You certainly won’t if you keep calling him Fatso, Momma.”
“I’ll work on it. How’s my favorite grandbaby?”
“Nia is great and so happy her grandma is coming to live with her.”
“Well, if you had said that to begin with, we wouldn’t need to be having this conversation,” Alma joked.
It took four
days to get to Texas, because Alma kept complaining about the smell and the speed and the route of the bus. They got off twice to check into a hotel so Alma could bathe and get a little sleep. Angel had the patience of Job, and flying was not an option. When they arrived in Texas, Fatso met them at the station. He was obviously not happy about Alma’s visit.
“Hello, Darryl,” Alma said exactly the way she
“How did I get here? How long has it been?”
“You’ve been here all day. These nice women over here found you.” She pointed to the women wearing red hats, sitting patiently in a corner of the hospital room.
Alma noticed a little bit of everything had gone into the making of the hats—silk ribbon, tulle, beading, and yard after yard of material. One of them stood up. She was white and had a big, round, pretty face with an unhealthy yellowish color to her skin, like uncooked chicken.
“My name is Delilah, but my friends call me Sister Dee, and these are Sisters Joy, Stephanie, Sarah, Yvette, and Magdalena.” The ladies smiled and waved hello at the calling of their names. “We are the Red Hatters.”
“We were walking by and saw you fall against the window. We had to break down the door to get to you. Some fool left the gas on! But don’t you worry your dear heart, Sisters May and Aubrey are there now, making sure the place gets aired out and the door gets fixed. They will leave your key with the building manager.”
“Did you go through my stuff?” Alma asked accusingly.
“Why, of course not,” Sister Dee replied.
“Momma, be nice,” Angel whispered through clenched teeth.
Alma rolled her eyes, dismissing the chastisement. “How’d you get here so fast if no one went looking through my stuff?”
“I called the house to wish you a happy birthday, and one of the Red Hats, Sister Joy, I believe, told me there was an accident and police were in your house, so I hopped the first plane I could to come see you. Now, why don’t you thank these nice ladies for being kind enough to look out for you, Momma?”
“Thank you,” Alma said.
“You are quite welcome. Anyway, we just wanted to make sure you were OK. We’ll be getting on now and will certainly keep you in our prayers. Take care,” Dee said, and she beckoned the others to leave.
Alma and Angel sat in silence as the women left.
“I want to go home,” Alma said, attempting to sit up. The pain in her head prevented any real movement.
“You’re not going anywhere right now! And when you do leave here, you are coming home with me.”
“I don’t want to go to Texas.”
“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you! Suicide, Momma? No, I already made the arrangements.”
“You know I don’t fly.”
Angel showed her two Greyhound bus tickets.
“What about Chubbsy Wubbsy? What’s he going to say about this?” Alma asked.
“Darryl said it would be fine with him.”
“He really said that?”
“Yes. He understands our bond, and besides, if he didn’t like it, he’d have to lump it elsewhere,” Angel said defiantly. Alma liked this strong will of hers. It reminded her of her own self.
“I’m not giving up my apartment! All my children were born and raised there.”
“I’m not saying you have to give up nothing. I just think you need to get away from all the memories for a while, until you have a chance to heal. Some sunshine and fresh country air will do you good.”
“How long is a while?” Alma asked.
“Three months.”
“I was thinking three weeks. You know me and Fatso won’t make it past three days.”
“You certainly won’t if you keep calling him Fatso, Momma.”
“I’ll work on it. How’s my favorite grandbaby?”
“Nia is great and so happy her grandma is coming to live with her.”
“Well, if you had said that to begin with, we wouldn’t need to be having this conversation,” Alma joked.
It took four
days to get to Texas, because Alma kept complaining about the smell and the speed and the route of the bus. They got off twice to check into a hotel so Alma could bathe and get a little sleep. Angel had the patience of Job, and flying was not an option. When they arrived in Texas, Fatso met them at the station. He was obviously not happy about Alma’s visit.
“Hello, Darryl,” Alma said exactly the way she
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