Old Josh, in: Gabriela’s Red Shawl
Old Josh, in:
Gabriela’s Shawl
(1889)
In shantytown, eight – year old Gabriela lived in a one room shack, a black negress, mixed with Spanish blood, she cried a lot it seemed, folks heard her all the time anyhow, if you looked through the shanty window, you might have caught her crying on her pillow, her red shawl around her, the one she loved so dearly, the one Emma Hightower (now twenty-seven years old) had given her, the only one she had. She was cut, I mean a pretty, curtness to her rounded face, large eyes, deep dark eyes, so thought Emma, and when she would come to visit her, take her out on picnics, she brought her one rag doll with her and that red shawl on around her shoulders. Old Josh would bring her down to shantytown, and he’d wait in the buckboard, she felt safe with Josh, and he’d walk around town, talk to his friends, buy a biscuit and find some coffee, and if possible put a shot of corn whisky in it, and just wait for Emma.
Gabriela really had no companions speak of, just her mother, whom was always kind of nervous, symptoms from some illness Emma assumed, and she drank to calm her nerves down, so again she assumed, and she often looked as if she was in dream land, perhaps some opium or whatever might have been available in that area. She wasn’t much older than Emma, and was a pretty girl, from mixed stock, she was just worn out looking now, thin, pale. If there was a father for Gabriela, he was never around, and Gabriel’s mother never mentioned him, although she was seeing a mixture of men, Emma always spotted an item of a man here and there when she’d visit, like a end of a cigar, or a pipe someone might have left on a table, even a tie here and there, and a hat now and then.
Gabriela started calling her Aunt Emma, which put a smile on her face, and one day she even bought her a red bonnet to go with the shawl.
She saw Gabriela that first year at least twice a month. The second year was more like once a month, and on holidays she brought over food for her and her mother, always with the company of Josh Jefferson.
During this second year, Gabriela now nine years old, her mother seemed to have been more intoxicated on the occasions she showed up, and Gabriel seemed to be cringing more around her mother, and this day when Emma came in Gabriela was standing stripped naked in front of her mother,
“I’m giving her a examination,” said the mother, she being a little under the influence and slurred with her speech, the child shrinking.
For the most part, it seemed they lived a quiet, silent, and lonely life, until Emma came around, especially for Gabriela, and when Emma brought these behaviors up to Josh, he kind of bit his lip, and remained silent about it, as if he knew something, but could do nothing, thus, Emma remained confused never demanding an answer, perhaps just Josh’s listening was enough. Although, Josh knew things were different here in shantytown, what you didn’t see, is what nobody wanted you to see. Here you had the whole gamut of the good poor black surrounded by the bad poor black, and those just trying to make it, and those who were learned wrong, and their behaviors were not conducive to Emma’s upbringing, I’m sure Josh felt he couldn’t explain what he knew correctly so he remained silent, figuring she’d learn the truth in time on her own.
It was nineteen-month later, Gabriela was now eleven years old, Emma came to here home with some fruit, left it on the table and heard a noise, a light cry, behind a blanket that was used for a curtain-divider where the bed was, and the one window to the shack, she stepped behind it, there was Gabriela in bed, covers over her up to her neck, and to her left, covers over something else, her red shawl on the floor beside the bed,
“Is your mother there?” asked Emma (Emma thinking her mother was sleeping besides her, which she often did), Gabriela didn’t say a word, shook her head ‘no’, and the body was huge as it pulled covers over its head further, and Gabriela simply said,
“It’s my mother’s friend; she’ll be back in a minute Emma.”
Emma stood in shock, unable to say a word, almost fearful to say a word, then she heard under the covers, a roar like a bear, a husky voice, “Git on out of he’r…or youall be next,” the voice said. And she turned about; tears in her eyes, and then Gabriela’s mother came through the door, saw the basket of fruit on the table,
“Thanks for the fruit she said,” and walked by Emma as if she had business to attend to, actually, overlooking Emma as if she was a nuisance, then looked back at Emma as she was going to go around the blanket,
“Youall can leave now,” she said, “and we aint no longer in need of your hand outs!”
As Emma started to turn about she said, “You bitch!” and walked to the buckboard Josh was waiting at.
She never said a word to Josh about that, she didn’t have to it showed on her face, and there was talk about little Gabriela and her mother, some with amusement and some with pity, folks seemed to be concerned for a while, and even said,
“It out not to be allowed,” then went back to their everyday routines.
8-14-2008 (No: 67)
Gabriela’s Shawl
(1889)
In shantytown, eight – year old Gabriela lived in a one room shack, a black negress, mixed with Spanish blood, she cried a lot it seemed, folks heard her all the time anyhow, if you looked through the shanty window, you might have caught her crying on her pillow, her red shawl around her, the one she loved so dearly, the one Emma Hightower (now twenty-seven years old) had given her, the only one she had. She was cut, I mean a pretty, curtness to her rounded face, large eyes, deep dark eyes, so thought Emma, and when she would come to visit her, take her out on picnics, she brought her one rag doll with her and that red shawl on around her shoulders. Old Josh would bring her down to shantytown, and he’d wait in the buckboard, she felt safe with Josh, and he’d walk around town, talk to his friends, buy a biscuit and find some coffee, and if possible put a shot of corn whisky in it, and just wait for Emma.
Gabriela really had no companions speak of, just her mother, whom was always kind of nervous, symptoms from some illness Emma assumed, and she drank to calm her nerves down, so again she assumed, and she often looked as if she was in dream land, perhaps some opium or whatever might have been available in that area. She wasn’t much older than Emma, and was a pretty girl, from mixed stock, she was just worn out looking now, thin, pale. If there was a father for Gabriela, he was never around, and Gabriel’s mother never mentioned him, although she was seeing a mixture of men, Emma always spotted an item of a man here and there when she’d visit, like a end of a cigar, or a pipe someone might have left on a table, even a tie here and there, and a hat now and then.
Gabriela started calling her Aunt Emma, which put a smile on her face, and one day she even bought her a red bonnet to go with the shawl.
She saw Gabriela that first year at least twice a month. The second year was more like once a month, and on holidays she brought over food for her and her mother, always with the company of Josh Jefferson.
During this second year, Gabriela now nine years old, her mother seemed to have been more intoxicated on the occasions she showed up, and Gabriel seemed to be cringing more around her mother, and this day when Emma came in Gabriela was standing stripped naked in front of her mother,
“I’m giving her a examination,” said the mother, she being a little under the influence and slurred with her speech, the child shrinking.
For the most part, it seemed they lived a quiet, silent, and lonely life, until Emma came around, especially for Gabriela, and when Emma brought these behaviors up to Josh, he kind of bit his lip, and remained silent about it, as if he knew something, but could do nothing, thus, Emma remained confused never demanding an answer, perhaps just Josh’s listening was enough. Although, Josh knew things were different here in shantytown, what you didn’t see, is what nobody wanted you to see. Here you had the whole gamut of the good poor black surrounded by the bad poor black, and those just trying to make it, and those who were learned wrong, and their behaviors were not conducive to Emma’s upbringing, I’m sure Josh felt he couldn’t explain what he knew correctly so he remained silent, figuring she’d learn the truth in time on her own.
It was nineteen-month later, Gabriela was now eleven years old, Emma came to here home with some fruit, left it on the table and heard a noise, a light cry, behind a blanket that was used for a curtain-divider where the bed was, and the one window to the shack, she stepped behind it, there was Gabriela in bed, covers over her up to her neck, and to her left, covers over something else, her red shawl on the floor beside the bed,
“Is your mother there?” asked Emma (Emma thinking her mother was sleeping besides her, which she often did), Gabriela didn’t say a word, shook her head ‘no’, and the body was huge as it pulled covers over its head further, and Gabriela simply said,
“It’s my mother’s friend; she’ll be back in a minute Emma.”
Emma stood in shock, unable to say a word, almost fearful to say a word, then she heard under the covers, a roar like a bear, a husky voice, “Git on out of he’r…or youall be next,” the voice said. And she turned about; tears in her eyes, and then Gabriela’s mother came through the door, saw the basket of fruit on the table,
“Thanks for the fruit she said,” and walked by Emma as if she had business to attend to, actually, overlooking Emma as if she was a nuisance, then looked back at Emma as she was going to go around the blanket,
“Youall can leave now,” she said, “and we aint no longer in need of your hand outs!”
As Emma started to turn about she said, “You bitch!” and walked to the buckboard Josh was waiting at.
She never said a word to Josh about that, she didn’t have to it showed on her face, and there was talk about little Gabriela and her mother, some with amusement and some with pity, folks seemed to be concerned for a while, and even said,
“It out not to be allowed,” then went back to their everyday routines.
8-14-2008 (No: 67)
posted by Dennis and Rosa Siluk at 10:24 PM
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