February 9, 2020 mid-morning
When they had finished their ice cream, Kenneth came around to collect the bowls. Then they were all back in their seats.
Miss Jasmine started. “Little Roberta had her abortion just before Christmas. I can’t say we celebrated the abortion, but Little Roberta was in good spirits, and we were all relieved. She had transferred into FAMU. Dr. Alexander put in a few words with the administration to speed things up, but she was sure to have gotten in regardless since she had solid recommendations from Spelman.
“A pleasant surprise was that in addition to her transfer credit, she took some tests and got credit for that. She could complete her degree by the end of the spring, one year early.
“Roberta said she wanted to eat some good food. We bought all kinds of holiday stuff, and all kinds of regular stuff. Roberta loved to eat baked sweet potatoes, so I made sure we had plenty of those. It was almost like the old times before she went away.
“But I noticed when we went out, she didn’t like to make eye contact. She would only reply to people passively with ‘yes, ma’am,’ ‘no, ma’am,’ ‘yes, sir,’ ‘no, sir.’ She wouldn’t engage in conversation with people in public, and I thought she looked almost fearful. I wondered if being dissociative was a hereditary trait. When we were home, Roberta seemed fine. Around us.
“I thought maybe she should see a counselor or psychiatrist. But in the early 1970s, Tallahassee was not exactly overrun with mental health professionals. I asked Little Roberta about it, and she said, ‘Mama, I’ll be fine. I just need some time back with you all, and I’ll be better. I’m sorry I worry you all.’
“She finished her degree in English literature. Leopold would have been proud. Then she entered a one-year teaching certificate program at FAMU that combined classes with practice teaching. For the fall of 1972, she was hired to teach seventh-grade language arts at Conn Middle School. I found out later that’s where Kenneth went. Sam, I think you were there too. Little Roberta was excited, we were excited, but we were all scared. Especially Kat.
“Privately, Kat told us Roberta would have a tough time. She had observed Roberta during her practice teaching. Kat could immediately see Roberta did not have the attention or control of the students. During her practice period, the regular teacher was always in the room, so things didn’t go totally off the edge. Her mentor teacher was a good soul, and she tried to guide Roberta. But to no avail.
“The mentor was uncomfortable. The students were frequently off task, and it was only because of the principal that they approved Roberta. The principal knew all of us, especially Kat, and made a final recommendation that Roberta had passed ‘with reservations’ and would be required to take a classroom management course at the FAMU summer school before starting in the fall.
“I’m going to go through this next part quickly. It makes me so sad but it’s integral to understand what happened to Roberta. This was the worst year of my life, and you know I’ve had some bad years. This was my baby, and it seemed she was losing her grip. Things did not go totally off the rails the first semester. The principal stepped in many times and got involved with the parents of some of the troublemakers. That would calm things for a bit, but each time gradually fell back into dysfunction.
“We were all so relieved when she made it to the Christmas break. Roberta told us: ‘I know that you all know this semester was bad. I know I need to be firm with those children, but right now let’s just all relax. I can start over with those kids in January.’
“That assuaged us some, but I can say we still had an uneasy Christmas. Additionally, Kat’s health seemed to be going downhill. She was seventy-three years old, didn’t have much appetite, and rarely went out for walks with Roberta A. like she used to.
“‘It is what it is,’ Roberta A. said to me about Kat’s health. ‘The truth is Kat and I have had a good life together. Right now I am more worried about Little Roberta than about Kat, and Kat feels the same way I do.’
“Those words did not encourage me at all. The Christmas vacation crept by, and Roberta went back to teach the spring semester. At first, she was optimistic that she could get the children engaged in reading and writing, and introduce some literature. But the principal saw the writing on the wall and told Kat, ‘It’s not going to work. She can finish the semester, but we can’t hire her back. Too many complaints from other teachers, and some of the parents. It’s getting to be like Lord of the Flies in there. And she’s Piggy.’
“That was one of the books she read in college, and it’s over there on the shelf. Everybody should read that book.
“The issue at its crux was her passivity. The children had quickly learned they could talk back, disobey, and skip their work. They smelled blood. The principal was having health issues and not able to be active with the parents like the first semester. Finally, the assistant principal got the school district to send in a substitute for her last month and they put Roberta on paid leave.
“‘I know I failed,’ she told us. ‘I know I’m meek. But I don’t understand how those children can be so mean. It’s like I’m not a human being to them. I know I let them bully me, and maybe that’s my fault. But don’t they have any sense of responsibility? What about their parents?’
“I felt so awful to hear those words, but at the same time was grateful for the paid leave. It gave us all a break, even though we knew Roberta was finished as a teacher before she started.
“In May, the principal called and invited Roberta to sing a song at the year-end assembly. Kenneth, you and Sam were both finishing seventh grade. You were both at the assembly.”
Kenneth, looking as if he was going to cry, stood up and left the room. McArdle looked at Miss Jasmine and said, “I know what you are going to say. I didn’t know she was your daughter until you started this story. I’ve been ashamed about that year my whole life, but I’d like to hear you tell it.”
Rosemary looked a little confused. Larry reached out his hand and held hers. Whale looked at McArdle, Kenneth returned and sat down, and Miss Jasmine continued.
“The principal knew about Roberta’s singing voice. She thought maybe if the students could hear her sing, just maybe they could see her as human and realize how cruel they had been. Roberta accepted. Kat, Roberta A., and I all wanted to go, but Roberta B. said she wanted to do this by herself, to show she could stand on her own.
“On the day of the assembly, Roberta sat in the front row with the principal, who told me this later. The assembly was really a talent show, mixed with short speeches and kind statements about various students and teachers. When it was Roberta’s turn near the end of the program, the principal introduced her. Up until then, the assembly had been a happy event.
“But can you believe those horrible little devils started to jeer? I was told by the principal much later that Roberta stood there waiting for them to stop but they didn’t. Some of them threw things, pencils maybe. She started to cry, but not loudly. The principal and teachers were shouting for everybody to hush up and behave. They say the children started to yell, ‘C’mon, lady, sing so we can go home!’
“It was chaos, I was told, and then Roberta, still crying, started to sing:
Strumming my pain with his fingers
Singing my life with his words
Killing me softly with his song
Killing me softly with his song
Telling my whole life with his words…
“All of a sudden you could hear a pin drop. She was singing a cappella, with all of the quiet spaces totally quiet. Nobody—the students, the other teachers, or the principal—said a word. They were all quiet and shocked. This was 1973. Roberta Flack’s song was at the top of the charts, and you couldn’t go anywhere without hearing it. All the students knew the words, and they all understood this was a song about personal pain, and a tormenter. About being mistreated and publicly mocked by somebody else but having the humanity to sing about it.
“For four minutes that day my Little Roberta was Roberta Flack! They have the same birthday thirteen years apart. Roberta Flack was born in 1937. Imagine that, born in 1937!
“Both Roberta Flack and Little Roberta were singing my pain with the sheriff. Oh, how I wish I had been there to hear her sing that day!
“Pretty soon, some of the girls started crying, and then the teachers, and then all the boys. At the end of the song everybody was crying. Finally, they saw her as human, and they could feel her pain. They were ashamed.
“When Roberta finished, she had tears running down her cheeks. Nobody clapped. They were all too stunned and just kept crying. She threw the microphone down and hurried out of the room. One of the custodians saw her go straight to her car and drive off.
“Eventually, Kenneth told me that finally the principal picked up the microphone and said, ‘Boys and girls, you should all be ashamed of yourselves. Ms. Barnes is a good woman, and you have ruined her life.’
“Kenneth says they didn’t finish the assembly, that they all just sat there crying at their shame and for the beauty of her song. Kenneth is Roberta’s cousin, but they didn’t know that then.
“Of course, Kat, Roberta A., and I didn’t know the details of the assembly until people filled us in later. 1973 wasn’t like now with everybody texting, posting, and what not.
“Roberta came home, and I asked her, ‘Well?’
“‘I think it went well,’ she said. ‘Everybody got quiet, and they all listened to me.’
“I could tell she had been crying, but I thought she looked relieved and said, ‘Then you can take it easy this summer and think about next year.’
“‘Now, Mama, you saw the letter from the school board. They aren’t hiring me for next year. Mama, I feel better now, but I want to take a bath. We can talk more at supper.’
“‘Would you like me to draw your bath, honey?’ said Roberta A.
“‘Thanks, I’m fine. I’ll do it myself.’
“And she went into the bathroom. We all felt relieved, and I went to the kitchen to get supper ready.
“It seemed a good while that Roberta still didn’t come out. From time to time, we would hear her humming and babbling just like when she was a child. Finally, I said, ‘Well, supper is ready.’
“‘I’ll call Roberta,’ said Kat. ‘I need to move these creaking bones sometimes.’
“Kat walked to the bathroom door and knocked.
“‘Honey, we’re ready to eat. Honey?’
“No response. Finally, Kat pushed the door open. Then she shrieked. Roberta A. and I ran to the bathroom. There was Little Roberta, my baby, in the tub. It looked like she had fallen asleep and drowned.
“Nobody said anything and then I started to wail over and over, ‘My baby! My little baby!’
“Kat led me to the sofa, and we sat. Roberta A. called the police. By 1973 Chief Ortega had died, and the department sent some black officers over. They knew who we were and were so kind. One of them noticed the set table with the untouched food and said, ‘Then you were about to have dinner when she was taking a bath?’
“‘That’s right, Officer. I guess this was our last supper.’
“‘You know we’re going to have to do an autopsy?’
“‘Yes, Officer, we understand.’
“‘Ma’am, we are ready to take her outside now. In case you don’t want to see.’
“‘I would like to see her if you don’t mind.’
“They brought her out on the gurney, and one of the officers lifted the sheet.
“‘My baby,’ I said and kissed Little Roberta on the cheek. Then I told the officers it might be easiest to go out the back door and around the side. Otherwise, they would have to go down eight steps.
“‘Thank you, ma’am, we’ve already checked that out,” and then they went out the back door.
“Before they drove away, one of the officers came back in and said, ‘Miss Jasmine. This might be consoling to know. People all over town are saying she sang at the assembly. They say she had the whole school crying listening to her beautiful song.’
“‘Thank you for telling us, Officer. I imagined that’s how it would have been.’
“And they left, with Little Roberta on the gurney inside the ambulance. We just sat on the couch awake all night, silent, and didn’t touch our supper.
“Kat died the next month. She had left her estate to Roberta A. Both had already sold their houses by 1955 and moved in with me so they could be with Little Roberta. Then it was just me and Roberta A.
“‘Here I am, a white lesbian widow stuck in a house with a beautiful middle-aged heterosexual black woman. How ironic,’ said Roberta A.
“Roberta A. lived with me until she died in 1985, leaving me her estate. I had way more money than I needed. I had outlived the sheriff, my husband, my daughter, and now my two best friends. But Sam and Rosemary, now I got two new friends. Don’t let me outlive you, goddammit!”
“Yes, ma’am,” they said simultaneously.
For lunch, Larry ate his sandwiches as usual, and Sam ate one. Kenneth said, “You know, Rosemary, you and Larry were right about the ice cream. It hit the spot, and now I’m not hungry.”
“Let me eat that sandwich of yours then if you don’t want it.” Larry took Kenneth’s sandwich.
Rosemary patted her stomach. “I’m good. Ice cream in the morning—I don’t need anything until supper.”
Miss Jasmine wasn’t hungry either. Partly the ice cream, but mostly because she had just poured out her soul. She told everybody she would nap a little early and they could continue in the afternoon.
McArdle said he felt like going for a short walk and Kenneth said, “Wait, I’ll go with you.” They both went out the door and down the steps when Sam said, “What about your nap?”
“Look, fool. Didn’t you see Rosemary and Larry holding hands? They’ll be glad to have us out of the house while my aunt takes her nap. Besides, better if you don’t walk around by yourself in this neighborhood.”