Angels for me will scare me with sharp teeth and many eyes. Angels for you will be of old loves and kiss you cheek. Both of our angels are righteous, both of our angels are kind.
- Ester R. Scott
It had been weeks since I saw the devil and his company. Nor had I seen the angels and their haunting eyes. One would think I'd feel more at ease not having someone watch me. But silence was the enemy, silence told you danger was coming before the skin crawling realization of danger was there. Every night before bed, before telling mama goodnight, I looked out the windows and waited to see something. Anything. But nothing was ever there and the disappointment paranoia that rested in my stomach grew.
Chemintine seemed to become catty with my neighbours who welcomed her with opened arms. That was good considering the impression she made when she first got here. They almost thought she fell off the bus and bumped her head, once she explained what was happening she came a causal. There were still some that didn't like her being here. Said she would cause problems and bring someone else to come and cause bigger problems. There was no point in trying to change their mind, their fear was real just like everyone else here. The last time white folk stumbled into our neighbourhood we had to lock the doors. I was ten when I saw someone being drug down the street and never seen again. So I tell Clementine to just be the nicest she could be and have the same manners she would have if she met the queen.
She found it silly. I found it life saving.
"Will you be bring that friend of yours to church tomorrow, Ester?" Miss Bouchard asked me. Today I was helping one of the elderly ladies in the neighborhood with mending her clothes. When I wasn't at the shop with a task list, I was out and out sewing and mending and caring for those around me. The best I could do when they took care of me when mama passed. Miss Bouchard was a fine woman of only 72 who was like a meme to me. I could tell in her youth was a firecracker that should have left Louisiana. She always kept her hair in tight pin curls with a headwrap tied in bows. As a child I could never tell if her chunky jewelry was real or if it was fake. I wasn't sure it mattered since she always looked amazing. She never had a husband or children so her freedom was higher than anyone else. Mama would tell me she was nothing but a party girl, so much so every night she would stumble home with her girlfriends arms linked together still singing. Then in the morning she would still out in her robe with said friend nursing herself with coffee. No matter what though Miss Bouchard never missed a day of church, how could she when she was the lead singer in the choir. Now that I'm older I realize those women were never really her friends .
"I don't think so ma'am, Chemintine isn't much for church." I smiled politely and continued to fold the bed sheets into a tight pile.
"You don't have to be church folk to come to church. You just have to have an open mind and a free spirit."
"Oh I'm sure Chemintine is all that and maybe more." I chuckled to myself and Miss Bouchard tsked at me and I could help but laugh a little more. I finished the bed sheets and moved on to her shirts on her drying line.
"Be nice to that girl. I've seen many of her and she's nothing but a sweet darling."
"She's mighty sweet. I'm just not sure if she'll like it."
"Have you asked her?"
"No ma'am."
"Then don't assume things. The worst thing you can do to another person is assume how they would feel or how they will act. You know better." It wasn't much of a scolding but I knew Miss Bouchard meant. All my life so far was a bunch of assuming, a lot of my mama's life was, and I sure so way Miss Bouchard.
"I'm sorry ma'am." I gave my apology and she shook her head and sighed.
"Bring the girl and let her see for herself if that's somewhere she wouldn't mind going." Miss Bouchard waved her hand over to me to hand her a shirt and I did. We sat in silence for the rest of the folding till I eventually got up to put everything away. I said my goodbyes and moved on to the next house. My mornings were filled so I wouldn't be home till the afternoon.
"Finally you make it home! I was starting to think you went off to work for the whole day." Chemintine greeted me at the door with a hug and I shooed her off. She helped me out my coat and took my bag to place on the dining table. "This is what you do every weekend? Is this way you never go out?"
"I do this every so often, it's about giving back to those that helped you. I wouldn't be here without these folks 'round here." I told her and she smiled sweetly.
"Ester, you really are a caring person. I had no idea this was your life."
"Well I don't go around talking about it, I preferred if I could keep some things to myself. Mama always said you never want people to be all up in ya business. Because then they'll start trying to give you advice that won't work." Chemintine laughed and went off to the kitchen.
Mama was right though, a private life was safer than a public one. Even in the conditions we faced. Mama never told anyone where my father ran off to when they asked. Nor did she tell them why she stayed here in Louisiana when everyone else in our family left. She would just sit quietly and allow them to make up whatever story suited their narrative and corrected them only when it was necessary. She told me to never go around like the other black kids bragging about what we had or what we didn't have at school. At that point you were asking for someone to rob you blind.
I kick off my shoes and pull my legs under me on the small worn down couch and relax against the comfortable back, "Chemintine?"
"Yes Ester?" The blonde stuck her head out from the kitchen arch way.
"They would like to know if you will come to church tomorrow."
"A-Am I allowed?" Chemintine was hesitant and a bit scared.
"Do you want to?"
"I've thought about it. I see you get ready in the morning and when you leave I can see everyone else leaving their houses and they look mighty fine all dolled up. Then I hear yall singing coming home. I wanna sing coming home." Chemintine smiled bashfully when she finished.
"Then when I say get up and get ready tomorrow I don't wanna hear ya complaining about nothing." I rolled my eyes and got up to go to the bathroom. Every morning during the week was a struggle to get Chemintine up for work. I have no idea how she managed on her own back at her daddy's house. Luckily it didn't take long for her to snap into action once she was up, it was only getting her out of bed that was the issue.
"I'se be ready! Be kind to me, Ester." I could help but stop when she said those words to me. Everytime I teased her she said that to me as if I never was. I could tell when she was going to say it by now. Be kind to me. Be kind to me and I'll always be kind to you. A very powerful saying.
Every Time since I told Chemintie about the angels she's come to my bedroom door with her dress balled in her hands and her toes crossed over each other. Her messy blonde hair up in rollers and her sharp eyes staring right through me. Every time she would have a question rattling in her mind and I'd wait patiently for her to ask me. 'Ester are they here' and I would answer 'they were until they heard you coming' or 'not tonight, Chemintine' and she walked away a bit upset that she couldn't be there with them. Tonight was no different as she stood in my door waiting for my attention.