Month: July 2020

Family Owned

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Part II: Getting Things In Order

Favorite mug|Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

Starla sipped coffee from her favorite mug: strong, black, and with a shot of whiskey. The day will be filled with making sure Chloe is comfortable enough to take on her new role: Personal Assistant. Starla had to dig into her bag of tricks to provide a decent environment for her niece — the pressures of life are already more than enough to drown a teenager’s hopes and dreams but add to that the death of a parent, and what you could potentially have is a disaster. And Starla did not want that — not for her niece, not for her family.

“Chloe. Let’s see what we have for you today. Did you hear me? Come on down and let’s start this day anew with a list of things you will help me with for the shop.”

Chloe stared at herself in the mirror — her eyes sunken and darted with sadness. She buttoned her top, zipped up her jeans, and slid her pedicured feet into her sandals. Could this be the start of her new life? Or at least, a new day? She descended the stairs, hair bouncing with the weight of each step, her arms at her side, and lips pursed into a perfect position. She stood before her aunt, prepared for her personal appearance review.

“Well, look at you! You are a sight for sore eyes, Chloe. Thank you for meeting me this morning. Lemme start this day off by sayin’, I ain’t tryin’ to put anything on you that you don’t need, I am only tryin’ to keep you from breakin’ and livin’ in a world of pain. This — all of this, could be good for you.”

Starla pointed in the direction of both the flower shop and the B & B, watched the expression on her niece’s face, and began again with her speech.

“Since June passed, Davie Boy says he’s noticed some changes in you. Now, I ain’t gonna sit on no high horse cuz Lawd knows I’ve had my share of dippin’ and dabblin’ into things I shouldn’t have, but I also know where those things could have led me had my daddy not put his foot down when he did. You will help me out with the shop Mondays through Thursdays from 9:00 am until 3:00 pm. We will always have a feast of a lunch at 12:00 pm until 12:30 pm. The B & B staff will see to that. When 3:00 pm hits the dot, do as you please, but within our rules and guidelines here. We will go over those later. Are we good so far?”

Chloe looked at her aunt, a feeling of trapped emotion dwarfed her. She heard every word and instantly felt the presence of her mother. Someone to direct her. Someone to guide her. Someone to give her options and make sure she makes good choices. She patted the thighs of her jeans and nodded in agreement.

“Good! Good! Now that we are on one accord, let’s have ourselves some breakfast.”

Davie Boy entered the dining room of the B & B looking for his sister and daughter. His eyes lit up when he spotted the two of them sitting at one of the tables talking.

“Mornin’, ladies. How goes it?”

“It goes, Davie Boy. Whatchu up to?”

“Not too much of anything right now, Starla. You gettin’ this one up-to-speed with how things go ‘round here?”

“I am and we don’t need no once-overs from you. I think Chloe’s gonna be just fine.”

Starla looked at her niece, gave her a wink, and nodded in approval. Davie Boy smiled his approval as well. To know he will have help raising his daughter once again took a heavy weight off his shoulders. He could already feel his breathing become easier to do.

“You listen to your Aunt Starla and I’ll be back to getcha ‘round 3:15 this afternoon.” He bowed his capped head in his daughter’s direction and blew her a kiss. “Starla, anything you need for the shop while I’m out?”

“I think we’re good for now, Davie Boy. If you find that brother of ours gallivantin’ ‘round town, let him know we’re still missing last week’s deposit. He ain’t pickin’ up his phone.”

“I sure will, Starla. I sure will.”

Starla and Chloe finished their breakfast and started off to begin a day’s work. The whiskey in Starla’s mug — now potent enough to kill a potted plant. Today is a new day.

Originally published in A Cornered Gurl via Medium.

Part I

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Family Owned

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Part I: A Snapshot

Open Arms|Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

“Davie Boy, pull that branch away from the main walkway, please. We don’t need anyone tripping and breaking their neck … The last thing I can stomach is a lawsuit, especially during a damn global pandemic. And while you’re at it, see if you can take a proper photo of the Jane Magnolia trees. I wanna showcase them in the new magazine for the shop.”

Starla beckoned from behind the desk of her family’s bed-and-breakfast. Davie Boy, her younger brother, helped to keep the place up and running. He was what you’d call a “handyman,” but he was more man than he was handy.

“And where is that God-forsaken niece of mine?! CHLOE! CHLOE! GET DOWN HERE, ASAP!”

The walls of the shop creaked. Starla was a loud woman. Always heard. Barely seen. She made the lives of everyone around her miserable. She now lived as a divorcée who owned two cats, a dog, and hundreds of handmaid quilts from the elder women in her family. And … part of the bed-and-breakfast. Buddy, her older brother, is the other owner.

“Starla, I don’t get paid enough for this. I threw my back out messin’ ‘round with them branches and those magnolia trees aren’t half-bloomed yet. Be a pity to waste good film on them in that state. Probably best to wait another week.”

Starla listened to the saucy words of her kid brother, knowing full well he was half-right. A lump formed in her throat. She swallowed hard.

“Whatever. Thank you.”

Buddy didn’t stick around much. The only things he had on Starla was age, favored gender by their dad, and the uncanny ability to lie in the face of danger. He could talk himself out of trouble and talk himself into bed with anyone. Starla, if she were truthful, envied him.

“I’ll just see if Buddy can do it the next time he swings by this way. He should’ve dropped the deposit off last Friday, haven’t seen the fool yet. Don’t worry about any of it, Davie Boy. It’ll get done. Can you collect your daughter and run to the store? Here’s the list.”

She handed Davie Boy the shopping list and watched as her niece came bouncing down the stairs in a revealing top and some short-shorts — Daisy Duke short.

“No, ma’am. No, ma’am! Head right on back up those stairs and put on some more clothes, young lady! What in the name … Have you lost your mind? Davie Boy, you let her dress like this? Showing her business to the world? You will march right up those stairs and find something else to wear.”

Starla rubbed her temples and sighed a great sigh. Her head throbbed. She needed a drink. Davie Boy’s voice snapped her back into focus.

“You know I can’t do anything with her, Starla. Since June died, Chloe’s been acting out — talkin’ back, breakin’ curfew, smoking weed — ”

“She’s been doing what? Aw, hell no! Leave her here with me. She can help me with the B & B and the flower shop. Don’t you fret, Davie Boy. Things’ll be back in order around here soon. Just you wait and see.”

Chloe descended the stairs just as her aunt finished her speech. This time, she had on a mini-skirt, a halter top, and some thigh-high boots.

“Davie Boy, go get me that vodka and some ibuprofen.”

Starla shook her head in disbelief, tutted the air between her teeth, and shot her niece a devil-filled stare.

“Tomorrow. I’ll deal with you tomorrow.”

Originally published in A Cornered Gurl via Medium.

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Featured Audio Poem of the Week

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Jennifer Patino is not only a most recent contributor to A Cornered Gurl via Medium, but she is also someone I have been reading on WordPress for years. Her most recent blog/website is Thistle Thoughts and the world of poetry, spoken word, essays, and her thoughts and reflections come to life there.

Recently, I put out a call for audio poems to be submitted to A Cornered Gurl for our Feature of the Week and approached Jennifer to take on the challenge. She did so. Not only did she hit us with her words, she gut-punched us with the reading of them.

A Native American, “enrolled Lac Courte Oreilles Ojibwe,” Jennifer speaks about her people, their fight to survive, what has and continues to be taken away from them, and the move toward the betterment of our nation and our hearts.

I give you, You Wanna Talk, and I hope you feel it as much as we do.

You Wanna Talk?

Photo by Dulcey Lima via Unsplash

Audio Poem

I’m petrified into silence,
mute disbelief, my grief
holds my tongue, my words
buried inside me

You wanna talk oppression? It’s
almost an obsession, how you
feel you have to prove you suffer
more than the weak

You wanna talk fear? When I
wake, feeling like I was born
for the slab and may arrive early
because you “can’t breathe” through a mask?

I can list many, my dear, who literally
could not breathe, while being murdered by
police brutality, who
could not breathe in gas chambers,
who are no longer breathing,
brothers, mothers, significant others

You wanna talk sin, or attacks on religion?
My people could practice again in 1978, remember
it was taken away? No, you don’t
You can’t

I can’t speak for all, only me,
a voice from your sacrificial altar,
a daughter being led to slaughter
for your economy

for your frogskins, your chameleon colored money
You wanna talk hardship?
You can’t work on a ventilator
Your bank doesn’t matter
when you’re deceased

I watch infections increase, and
I cry for every family I watch
injustice happening in the streets,
and I contemplate destiny

I think of all these martyrs, I try
and remember, their names, their faces
I want them to be
more than just a hashtagged tragedy
I want, no, I need
to remember

You wanna talk flags?
I wave a white one too
It says “I surrender”

Originally published in A Cornered Gurl via Medium.