Chapter One
1967
During cold weather, in upstate Rochester, New York, Lena sat in her living room on her tattered cloth love seat that faced the window. Every summer morning, weather permitting, at 5 o'clock, Lena sat in the frayed wicker lounger situated on her one-riser wooden porch of her shacklike bungalow, with the chipping paint and broken shudders that were in desperate need of cosmetic attention. The paint was so worn and faded, there was no longer any distinct color-just a faint distinction of the shudders being a darker shade than the house. The same house she had birthed her baby Gweneth in by the hands of a midwife, on January 19, 1930.
It was a time when even the North was still somewhat rural in areas, very much separated by black and white, and older housing existed for mostly the poor or those of color. Gweneth was born during these times-times when many people of color lived on what was called camps while migrating to the North from the South. Camps were considered their temporary homes. To Lena, in some ways, Hussey Place was a slight reminder of those times, those temporary homes. The housing was shabby and so was the landscape. The only difference was that her husband, Kenneth, actually bought their home a few months before Gweneth was born, and it was more than a tent or one-bedroom shack. But Lena was happy to be with Kenneth. She would have lived with him in a shoe. He had done right by her and took her as his wife while she was pregnant in order to give her baby girl a name. Lena felt blessed.
In her time, being unwed and pregnant was frowned upon. Lena felt that she had no other recourse at the early age of fifteen but to marry Kenneth Galloway. Not only did Lena believe that Kenneth was a very handsome man-but a very honorable one-until the day he up and left her and Gweneth and never returned. Lena waited with patience and hope in her heart for Kenneth's return, but as time went on, circumstances surrounding her at age twenty caused her to become so bitter that when Gweneth finished School of Home Design, Gweneth quickly left old upstate New York for California, to pursue her career in architecture and design.
Hussey Place had always been too seedy for her, anyway. Oh, it could have looked brighter, much brighter, if someone had just taken the initiative to plant more flowers, trees, and add some decorative outdoor benches and remove all the raggedy seating that crowded most of the porches. A fresh coat of paint wouldn't have hurt the houses, either, but no one seemed to care or think that there was a chance of improving the old alley, and Gweneth couldn't bear looking at the place any longer.
If only Gweneth knew. Her mother and most of their neighbors were the former children of sharecroppers, who had never owned anything, including the land they seeked a living from, when they'd lived in the South. Most of them didn't know how to do any better, because they had never had any better. Although interior cleanliness was important to the people of Hussey Place, exterior appearances was an option. They were just happy to have their own plot of land.
Kingdome Synthe was a resident of the neighborhood, but not of Hussey Place. He had full custody of his daughter, Kyanna. Kyanna and Gweneth had been friends before their parents met. Kingdome would take the girls out and acted as a father figure. Lena was their mother figure, braiding and styling hair, dressing the girls and herself in all sorts of pretty things, and cooking for everyone. As far as Lena was concerned, her life was full again, although she and Kingdome had never taken a romantic interest in each other. But Lena deemed him to be her true friend because of their similar circumstances, his faithfulness and dedication as a friend, and the understanding they had for each other's situations. Kingdome's wife had also left him with his baby girl. Not only did Kingdome love to cook, he loved to eat. He and Lena sometimes fought playfully over the kitchen and who would do the cooking. The two would play cards, checkers, and other games with the children for hours at a time, almost every day, and things had been good. But when Kingdome found a real love interest, he and Lena drifted apart. This caused Lena to grow bitter again, and this time, more hateful, allowing herself to become overweight and dowdy over time, and become drawn to the seedy look of the alley.
She sat on her porch in her special chair. With her long, willowy fingers, she scooped up a hunk of watermelon into a hand that did not match the large arm and body that it was attached to. However, it agreed with the thin, dark face that usually scowled-a face that would have been more than pretty if she hadn't scowled so frequently. Lena was only in her early fifties; the dark skin and wavy hair she inherited from the Charles clan, who were of Native American descent, were very distinct, down to her cheekbones and her skin, which looked leathery and wrinkled but was so smooth it crinkled with her facial expressions.
Lena spat a stream of snuff over her banister as she held a raggedy fan in her other bony hand, fanned, and warded off the flies and other insects that were attracted to the sweet nectar of her fruit. Snuff was a form of smokeless tobacco that she started dipping when she was a young woman. She would tuck the coffee-colored wad into her lower jaw and chew until all the bitterness came out. After a comfortable time would pass, she would spit out the brown rivulet, sometimes skeeting it through her teeth. Many women who lived in Hussey Place dipped snuff. Some hid in the house and spit their remnants into a tin can, but not Lena. She didn't care who saw her. She slowly and lazily rocked back and forth in the old wicker lounger with the lumpy, stuffed pillows while watching, like a devoted spectator at a sports arena, each tacky-looking, but neatly tucked-away, house in the neglected circle.
Lena wouldn't leave her spot until way after the sun went down-no matter what the season. At times, neighbors didn't know that Lena sat in her window for hours on bad days. Others forgot that she sat on her porch far into the night during mild weather, and some just didn't pay her that much attention at all. She was no more to them than a wave, a nod, or a brief hello. She was just a nosey old woman who was jealous and watched others going on with their lives, because she'd chosen not to live out her own. It was as if the one man she'd lost was the last.
After spitting her snuff out, Lena chewed her fruit slowly, and wickedly watched her neighbor exit her front door and take the one step down onto her front porch.
The beautiful brown woman turned and smiled. "Hey, Lena!"
She had the same long, thick black hair, figure, and beauty as her twin sister. Her even brown skin was still flawless. The same as Lena remembered Venn's twin sister's to be.
Lena allowed her chuckle to roar within her stomach so that no one else could hear. Each encounter with Venn Bazedale was just a taunt. She had no real interest in the pretty young woman. Lena held a straight face, "Hey, Venn, suga. How are you today?"
"Just fine, Lena! Fine!"
Venn was one of the few people on Hussey Place who worked or took up any time with Lena. Lena had poisoned pets, sprinkled vegetable gardens with ingredients to stump the growth, and had shooed away children who were barely near her door. No one could ever prove that it was Lena who had poisoned pets or killed their gardens, but everyone knew how nasty Lena could act and therefore kept their distance.
As Venn turned to lock her door, Lena cut her eyes wickedly and smiled as she remembered Chell-Venn's twin sister. Each time she saw Venn, she'd please herself with the same thoughts.
Venn walked over to Lena's worn-down fence. "Lena. Did you know about the new center that's opening?"
Lena took a deep breath. She didn't want to scare Venn away altogether; she loved her secret game. She gave Venn a fake smile and crossed her arms. "No, baby, I sure didn't."
"Yeah. That's where I'm headed. I'll be working there part-time-evenings. They got some of everything down there for everybody-kids and all, Lena."
Lena stared at Venn blankly. Why would she want to associate with any of the people from around her way? She barely talked to them as they passed by. And Venn was the last person she wanted to get close to. Venn was the only one who didn't know it.
Lena almost chuckled as she spoke. "Well, you go ahead and enjoy your new job."
Venn could hear the cynical, venomlike tone of Lena's voice. She cleared the embarrassment from her throat. "Uh-hum. Okay, Lena. Have a nice day."
Lena laughed inwardly but grinned outwardly. She enjoyed Venn's uncomfortable stride and watched her until she was out of view. Mission accomplished.
Lena finished feeding her mind with the thoughts she loved as she leaned back, closed her eyes, and relaxed.
She and Chell had gone out together to one of the old hole-in-the-wall clubs. Lena had gotten close to Chell and pretended to be her friend, allowing her constant visits to her home, but only when Lena's husband was away for long periods of time. Lena couldn't let Kenneth know that Chell was coming over, or that she had seen him offer the young girl money. That would mess up her entire plan. Lena couldn't let that happen, but pretending to be Chell's friend was inwardly eating away at Lena.
Lena was desperate. She felt that she had to do whatever it took to keep her man-and tried to never shy away from her plan-of pretending that she and Chell were equals and best of friends. It was a struggle for her, but she endured. When she felt that she and Chell were close enough, she successfully helped Chell to get out of the house by lying to her parents so that they could hang out together like two old friends. Chell would be spending the night and helping her out with some odd jobs. Chell almost had to cover her mouth so that she wouldn't grin and giggle as she listened to Lena lie for her.
Lena dressed Chell in the prettiest outfit that she could find, made up her face, and did her hair. Every now and then, she'd purposely snatch or comb Chell's hair a little too hard, causing Chell's sentences to break up, or her to say, "Ouch, Lena. That hurt, Lena. Lena!"
Lena would only halfheartedly apologize, but Chell hadn't noticed. She had still giggled and chattered through the whole ordeal. She was so excited, and hadn't quieted down until they were seated at their destination and the band began to play at the old hole-in-the-wall.
Lena had remained quiet the entire time, not really hearing a word Chell said or the band. She was going through her plan, over and over again, in her mind. It had to work or she'd be without her man. She'd even caught her man a few times talking about Chell in his sleep and moaning. Sure. The twins were pretty, even beautiful, but Lena had been quite a looker herself. And she'd done more for that man than the average woman would have back then.
Chell was only seventeen at the time; Lena was twenty-eight and was to look out for Chell. Instead, she'd set her up. When the band began to play, Jay Mocker called to Chell. Chell looked over at Lena, then back to Jay Mocker, who was now shushing her with his finger.
Chell shook Lena's shoulder. "Jay Mocker callin' me-"
Lena quickly turned to her and snapped, "Then go see what he want, girl! I ain't goin' no place!"
As soon as Chell got close enough, Jay Mocker pulled Chell into the men's room, where several men began to attack her. Her clothes shouldn't be torn or soiled. Lena wanted it that way. She had to seem genuinely shocked by Chell's story. Chell had to look like a liar when she returned to Lena. Lena had paid good money for things to look a certain way, and had spent a lot of uncomfortable time with Chell. It all had better work, or she'd report them with Chell if she had to.
Lena remembered watching the scene through the battered and cracked door. Sonny was muffling Chell's screams while two men held her arms. Mack Dolin lifted her up by the legs. She was dropped to the floor and left on the men's room floor when they thought they'd heard an unfamiliar sound. They slowly and cautiously exited the bathroom, looking around before doing so. They were all too frightened to complete their mission.
Lena stood on the other side of the wall so that she couldn't be seen.
Jay Mocker remained near the bathroom. When he saw that the hallway was clear, he went back to Chell. He stood over her dazed body. "You sho is pretty, Chell."
Chell reached up for help.
Jay Mocker pushed her hand aside. "Not till me and you get better acquainted."
Chell tried unsuccessfully to make her screams be heard over the band.
Lena wiped the sweat from her face and forehead as she watched her prey being tortured. The hurtful sounds Chell made excited, and satisfied, her. But Jay Mocker moaning out about her attractiveness angered Lena more; it seemed to make her ears ache, made her wish that Chell would be damaged for life when he was done with her. How could Chell have been so naïve as to believe that she could mess around with her man and she'd forgive her so easily? She'd pay for that, and Lena wanted her to pay in the worst way ... shamefully. She remembered how she pretended to be on her way to the bathroom when she saw Chell staggering out of the men's room. How she quickly helped Chell back inside, helped her to clean up, and lectured Chell after Chell told her what had happened. Neither one was to speak another word about the incident to anyone-and from Lena's point of view, she suggested maybe an older man wasn't what Chell needed, and she should stay away from all of them.
Chell never perceived that Lena knew all about her husband giving her money. At first like a father figure, then to woo her. And although Chell had turned him down, Lena was angry. She was going to make sure that Chell wouldn't want her husband or anyone else's. But none of that had mattered. As soon as Lena's husband sought Chell out again, she ran off with him, believing no other man would want her. She was sure if she had stayed in Rochester, someone was soon to find out about her being raped, and then not even Lena's husband would touch her.
When comforted by Venn, Chell's twin sister, Lena pretended not to care that her husband had run off with a mere child, but she did. She cared every day.
That had been twenty years ago-back in 1947. She was still making Venn pay today for her twin sister Chell's mistake. Venn remained in that forsaken house that reminded Lena of her sister. The comfortable house that always had a mother that adored her children and made sure that they always looked perfect and ate well. And a father that kept that house in tip-top shape, and now Venn's little prize was still taking care of their house.
But where was Lena's man? Yeah, Venn would pay until the day she or Lena died-no matter how much Venn sided with her or apologized for her twin sister's indiscretion. Lena sometimes wouldn't say a word to Venn; at other times very little when Venn tried comforting her out of a guilt that she had no business owning. But each day, as long as Lena could breathe, she'd make sure Venn paid for her hurt and loss.
Lena allowed the aromas of the stews, meat loaf, chicken, pork chops, and boiled corn that wafted through the air to caress her nostrils and draw her attention away from her old memories. The houses were so close Lena chuckled secretly and shook her head. The thought of being able to tell what was going on in each home, right down to the flavor of Kool-Aid that she knew was being mixed in large generic containers and being poured into mason jars loaded with ice, made her take a deep breath.
She closed her eyes and imagined those aromas-Grape, orange, cherry?-then continued feasting on her watermelon. The snuff would have to wait, the watermelon would be her only meal for the day. She couldn't dip and eat. She had never been able to maneuver the snuff under her lip, like she had seen others do. She scooped and smiled impishly until she saw Thomas, Venn's son, back out of their front door, pulling their lawn mower along with him.
Thomas allowed the screen door to slam as he and the mower made contact with the porch. He'd already begun to sweat from the struggle. He pulled his T-shirt over his head. His upper body glistened. It was an unpleasantly warm summer's evening. He'd complete the yard work as usual before he lost all light. But Thomas also had other intentions. He glanced over at Lena's porch. She gleamed at him. Thomas checked his watch. Lena stood up and lifted the corners of her long skirt as she rose. Thomas, using one of their signals, slightly nodded in her direction. In an hour or so, he'd be with her. It all had to be calculated just right. Like all of the older women from her day, no one else was to know about their ventures. They had to be discreet or become bigger outcasts than they already were.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Hussey Place by LEOLA CHARLES Copyright © 2009 by Leola Charles. Excerpted by permission.
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