It's All About The Moon When The Sun Ain't Shining Read Free Page A

the yard, on the grass, just off the seashells that were the driveway. I saw her looking and I knew she was contemplating leaving, and I knew she was wishing that she had never come to see me, and that she had never gone in the back room with me and that she had not heard the words that Mama had spoken to her. And she was thinking all this and at the same time, she was trying to hold her face straight and keep her eyes dry, and not let on how bad Mama’s words had hurt her.
    â€œWhat’s she so anxious for you to tell me?” she finally asked. Her voice was low, but I could still hear the pain.
    â€œNothing,” I said.
    â€œMust be something,” she said. “Something else for Miss Audrey to throw in my face. What is it?” she continued to push. “Did you win another award? Did you find out you’re graduating at the head of your class? Did some big company offer you a job? Please tell me. What is it?”
    â€œNothing,” I said again.
    She looked at me, and I could tell that my answer had not satisfied her.
    â€œMust be something or else Miss Audrey wouldn’t be carrying on so.”
    I remained quiet. I had said all I planned to say.
    â€œWhat is it?” she asked again, then waited.
    I remained quiet.
    â€œI’m leaving,” she said.
    â€œAll right,” I said. “I’ll tell you.”
    She waited for a moment but when I remained silent, she spoke. “Well,” she said.
    â€œI’ll tell you later,” I said, “when the time is right.”
    She turned to leave. I grabbed her hand.
    â€œCome on, Omenita,” I said. “Don’t act like this . . . It’s nothing ... I swear. Mama’s just pulling your chain.”
    â€œIt’s something to me,” she said.
    â€œCome on,” I said. “Let’s just talk about something else. We haven’t seen each other in over four months.... Please, let’s talk about something else. Okay?”
    I felt the tension in her arm loosen and I released my grip, and she turned toward the street and stared far off into the darkness.
    â€œCan’t take Miss Audrey no more,” she said. “Can’t take her trying to make me feel like I’m nothing.”
    â€œShe doesn’t know what she’s doing,” I said. “It’s just her way.”
    â€œShe know,” Omenita said.
    â€œNo,” I said. “It’s just her way.”
    Omenita looked at me, and her eyes began to water.
    â€œWhy are you taking up for her?”
    â€œI’m not,” I said.
    â€œYou are,” she said. She had been fighting back tears, but now she could not fight them any longer, and as the tears descended her face, I could feel my insides churning, and I could feel my heart aching, and all I wanted to do was put my arms around her and pull her close to me and make the pain and hurt that was making her cry dissipate.
    I reached for her and she pulled away, and I saw her eyes narrow and I saw her nose begin to run and I saw her drop her head and I saw her wipe her nose with the back of her hand and I could see that her hand was trembling and I could hear her sniffling and I knew she was trying to stop crying. I wanted to put my arms around her but I knew she would not let me.
    â€œShe know,” Omenita said, sobbing heavily. “And you know she know. You were there. You were there just like me.”
    â€œI was where?” I asked, confused.
    â€œYou saw the way she treated me.”
    â€œTreated you when?” I asked. I was at a loss. She was not making sense.
    â€œCould’ve let me know that she was proud of me ... seeing how me and you were a couple ... and seeing how I was the first in my family to graduate.”
    â€œGraduate,” I mumbled to myself. Then it dawned on me. “High school,” I said. “Girl, you talking about high school?”
    â€œBut no, she had to be mean. She had to let me know I