Legend of Buddy Bush (9781439131824) Read Free Page A

Grandma’s neighbors and best friends. At seventy-five, the same age as Grandpa, Mr. Charlie has a car. A 1935 Chevy. That’s it. The car! Mr. Charlie and Ma are going somewhere, but I have to find out where.
    â€œI told you to eat your food. Mr. Charlie will be here in a minute. Now hurry.”
    â€œHe will?” I say, trying not to ask a grown folks question.
    â€œYes he will. I’m going into town with him and your grandpa. He’s taking Poppa to see Dr. Franklin.”
    â€œDoctor?”
    No time to follow some silly rule about not askinggrown folks questions. I want to know why Grandpa is going to the doctor.
    â€œWhy?” I ask as tears run into the eggs that I don’t want no more.
    I know Ma is getting ready to say, “Don’t ask grown folks questions,” until she sees the tears in my eggs.
    â€œNow why are you crying, child? You know Poppa hasn’t been feeling well for a while. And what did Buddy tell you about crying all the time?” If I tell her what he really said she would give him a tongue-lashing as soon as he steps foot in this house. But what he really said was “Crying makes you piss less.” I can’t repeat that, so I say, “He said big girls don’t cry.”
    Ma smiles and say, “He’s right. Now, hurry.”
    Ma’s mighty out of herself this morning. She just rushing and fussing. She must be some kind of worried about Grandpa. He is definitely a little under the weather, but he must be really sick to go to a doctor. I figure that he has drunk enough of Grandma’s leaves from the woods to feel better by now. Grandma claims she has a cure for everything. Puttin’ tobacco on your chest for a sore throat. A penny around your neck to stop a nosebleed. A broom at the door so the hanks won’t ride your back at night and roots from the grass of the unknown for colds. And she has birthed as manybabies in Rich Square as Dr. Franklin, the white doctor. She brought BarJean, Coy and me into this world and most of the children here on Reheboth Road. She nurses most of the grown folks on Rehobeth Road too, except Uncle Buddy. He says, “Never in this world.” As a matter of fact, Uncle Buddy don’t trust no doctors around here. He drives all the way to Harlem twice a year to see his city doctor. There have been a lot of talk on Rehobeth Road about a new colored doctor coming to town. Not Rich Square, but Potecasi and that ain’t too far. I guess that place is about ten miles away. Can’t worry about a colored doctor that might come later. I want Ma to tell me about the white doctor that’s here now and why Grandpa is really going to see him.
    Ma still in deep thought, she doesn’t say a word for a minute.
    â€œMa, I guess Grandma’s medicine ain’t working.” I’m trying my best to get her to talk. She looks like she wants to laugh at my belief in Grandma’s homemade medicine. Like the time I couldn’t stop pissing in the bed and she boiled me some greenstuff to drink for a month. Ma said that it wasn’t that stuff that worked. She is probably right and it was her threats of beating my skin off if I didn’t stop messing up her sheets that did. I just didn’t understand why Ma went through all the pain of having me and then she planned to beat my skin off. Anyway, I want to know what is happening with Grandpa. My grandpa!
    â€œDon’t you worry about Grandpa. He just has a slight cold.”
    I can’t believe she just said that.
    A churchwoman lying. Lord have mercy!
    â€œSlight cold? It’s June.”
    Ma ignores me as she takes her old blue apron off and hangs it on a nail behind the kitchen door that don’t have paint on it either. Then she sits down and takes off her bedroom slippers and puts on her black Sunday go to meeting shoes.
    â€œCan I go with you to town? I want to see Grandpa.”
    â€œNo you cannot. You have to go and