Em hopped out of the car almost before it came to a complete halt. Frank opened the door for Ron who stood and looked across the roof of the car, his mouth hanging open in astonishment.
A sea of people of all ages crowded around Em. They called out to her, and reached for handshakes. She greeted each by name, firing off questions, “How’s your grandma’s health?”
“Did Juanita have her baby yet?”
“Is Marco doing better in school?”
“Did Janice get the job?” Young men wearing gang colors, waited until the commotion subsided and then moved in to greet her, some with salutes, others with intricate handshakes that melded into engulfing bear hugs. Finally, she motioned for Ron to join her. The look on his face said it all. He’d never been exposed to a community like this one, never experienced being the minority. He looked scared spitless, but intrigued too.
“It’s Ron Conlin,” someone said. The crowd rumbled a welcome, closed in on Ron and Em and moved en masse towards a restaurant just down the block. Ron ended up at the bar with some of the older men and women. The bartender hastily cleared away the ashtrays.
Em saw that Ron was accorded his fair share of attention from the men and women around him. He seemed surprised when they asked about his life and his work, respecting him as an individual separate from her. Way to go, guys. You are true friends. She blew Ron a kiss.
Em sat in her usual spot at the center table along the back wall. Sam passed her a beer. Etta put her baby in Em’s lap, a cutie trying to shove both her fists in her mouth at once. A group of little kids hovered around her chair. A young girl twined her fingers in Em’s curls trying in vain to straighten them.
The restaurant wasn’t big enough to accommodate everyone and many stood outside the door or opened the windows to lean in. Questions flew at Em, but most people didn’t wait for answers and within seconds it seemed that everyone was talking at once. A number of the younger children and pre-teens had run home and now came over to show off report cards and school projects.
Suddenly the crowd went silent and all eyes focused on the door. A giant of a man stood in the entrance, glaring at Em. Someone whisked the baby from her lap and the children backed away. She set her beer down, rose, and very slowly moved around to stand in front of the table. She could hear Ron groan, but didn’t dare glance in his direction. The crowd parted to allow the giant to advance toward her.
“What you doing bringing your skinny white ass to my hood?”
“Hell, the idiots let you out of prison again.” The crowd gasped.
“What you gonna do about it, bitch?”
“Kick your black ass right on back there.”
“You and whose army?”
“I’ve never needed help to take care of you, Jake.” Em moved towards him. Jake advanced, fists raised menacingly.
Ron tried to go to her but the crowd in front of him closed ranks. He pushed against them, determined to work his way through. No, Ron. Don't. Stay where you are. Please.
“Don’t!” Em heard a low voice from behind Ron hiss in his ear and saw hands clamp down on his shoulders to hold him back. He tried, unsuccessfully, to shrug them off. He was scared, but there was nothing she could do about that. She turned her attention back to Jake.
Em cracked first, her lips twitching before breaking into a huge grin. She opened her arms for a hug. In two strides Jake was there. He picked her up off the floor in a huge embrace. “You never could keep a straight face,” he complained as the crowd cheered and clapped.
The big over-muscled teddy bear lifted Em up and set her on the table. She glanced at Ron and saw him heave a sigh of relief.
“Why you wearing this big shirt?” Jake flicked the collar with his finger. “Trying to hide your scrawny little body.”
“Scrawny nothing, you big lump of lard.” She poked him in the stomach.
He doubled over and held his stomach. “Ooo eee, that Pee-la-tees of yours must be doing some good. That hurt.”
“Good. Maybe if you’d listen once in a while and take my advice you’d be half as good as me.” She pushed up her sleeve and made a muscle. Jake tested her bicep gingerly between his thumb and forefinger, and then held his own arm, which was at least four times the size, up next to hers. He shook his head sadly. “Woman, you are pa- the-tick. Pick on someone your own size.” Jake gestured to a youth who came over eagerly. “Hey, Danny, think you could take this puny little thing?”
Danny studied her bicep speculatively and nodded. Moments later he and Em were setting up for an arm wrestling match. Jake checked the positioning of their arms, made sure their wrists were straight and muscles relaxed before they started. Danny winked at his buddies and the match was on. He won and the crowd hooted and hollered their approval.
“Best two out of three,” Jake ordered. Em won the second match and Danny won the third, but not easily. Money passed back and forth between numerous men and women. Danny and Em shook hands formally and then hugged, falling over each other with laughter. Em returned to her seat and Jake motioned for the gang leaders to join them. “Time to go,” Someone announced and everyone filed out calling goodbye. Five young men and two girls sat with Em and Jake. Em waved Ron over. Jake stood and examined Ron as Em introduced them. Few people could tower over Ron, but this man did.
“This the little guy who helps you?” Jake asked.
“Yes. And I kinda like him too.”
“You do!?”
“Be nice.”
Jake looked Ron up and down critically, frowned and finally shook Ron’s hand. “You’ll do.” He gestured for Ron to sit with them and took his own seat.
The young men and women relayed the gang news assuring Em that there had been no deaths or fights since her last visit. She asked about specific families and jobs and housing.
“The shuttle buses are working out well,” the girl named Anny, said. “The ride makes a long day longer, but it beats no job.”
Jake turned to Ron. “One of the greatest frustrations of the inner city bro is the lack of job opportunities in the hood.”
“Plenty of jobs out there, but miles from where we live,” Anny said.
“And without wheels, how can we be expected to get out there and hold down a job?” One of the boys wearing a Nissan shirt with his name tag said.
“So, what's happening with the kids at home?” Em asked.
“Set up day-care and after-school care for them. Most of the grannies help out so doesn't cost the parents much.” Anny looked proud as she spoke.
“Situations not ideal,” Jake groused, “but it does provide incomes, stabilize families, and most importantly, keeps the men at home.”
“Exactly where we want them.” Anny high- fived the other girl at the table.
“Man, you guys are good,” Em said. Everyone seemed to sit a little taller at her words.
Business concluded, they went outside. Frank was waiting by the car with a group of men. It was great to see the repairs that had been done since her last visit. Window boxes full of herbs, green onions, lettuce, and flowers added color and life, and the street was clean. It even smelled fresh. Becoming livable.
“There was a proposal at city hall once,” Ron whispered in her ear, “to change the name of this community in an effort to change the image. No name change, however well intentioned, could have accomplished this.” Em tried to stifle a sinful little welling of pride.
*
Ronny boy got to be with Em at work, his hand on her thigh. Sky! Why couldn't that have been me? Ron watched and learned that Em didn't offer answers or solutions. Instead, with questions, she directed the conversation subtly, leading the group to discover the solutions that would work for them.
Well, duh, what did he think? That Em bullied her way through her job? Well, I guess … maybe … it would seem that way to anyone watching the news.
The irony of the situation did not escape Ron. Had to give him credit for that. For years he had participated in celebrity events to raise money for gang intervention programs, but he had never thought of going to the areas his circle pretended didn’t exist, except as an excuse for the golf tournaments, of course. Yet, there he was feeling safe, comfortable, and welcome. All because of my Little Soldier. She set the tone for everything she touched.
Lying in bed later, Ron wanted to ask how everyone had recognized her when she wasn’t in what he called “Madame clothes,” and how many times she had been there and why they had never heard about that work on the news, and how many other things she did that no one had heard about, but Em was already asleep. Her answers would be, at best, vague and oblique. She was a master at evasion when she wanted to be. In the end he knew he wouldn’t ask at all.
And my darling, Em? She was relaxed at that moment—in his arms—her worries at bay, her search for her other life forgotten for a moment. My job now, was to find a way to keep the memories of her other self from intruding in this life she led with me. I’d go to Mentor for help, butter her up by asking advice. Maybe that would soften the old bat. Humph! Who was I trying to kid?