Page 39 of It's Me They Follow
Chapter 23
LATER THAT SAME DAY
6:33 P.M.
Up North turned into Down South as they drove. The ride continued with bouts of sisterly banter, bouts of passionate singing, a few petty arguments, and extended silence littered with philosophically maniacal meanderings—“Did you know that touch is the only sense that requires you to give and receive at the same time?”
“How is it possible that you know so much and so little about one subject?” her sister pointed out. They decided to take the slower route with more trees, animals, water, and breeze. But neither sister had planned for their ever-more-frequent need to pee. And every time one sister had to pee, so did the other. The two sisters pulled over two times, and on the third, they were both shaking and dancing. They pulled over and followed their noses to a soul food spot that smelled of okra, smoked wings, cornbread, porgies, hush puppies, and shrimp.
“Home sweet home.” Elle rubbed her belly.
“Enter Here.”The Shopkeeper pointed at the rickety sign.It was a beautifully ugly broken-down shack of a restaurant, with Christmas lights and church fans. Portraits of women lined the walls. The restaurant had the same familiar aroma as their grandmother’s house. It reminded them to stay awhile and take a proper break. They got in, but Elle didn’t quite make it to the bathroom, so The Shopkeeper had to run back to the car and get her sister a change of clothes. The Shopkeeper asked a wide-eyed, wide-hipped woman in an apron for some of the peach moonshine that everybody else in the shack appeared to be drinking.
“We already know just what you need,” the wide-hipped woman said. She put the jar down in front of The Shopkeeper.
The Shopkeeper took a sip. The drink was thick like molasses.I deserve sweetness, she reminded herself as it coated her throat and stomach. She hadn’t had much of anything besides apples, water, and tea, so the moonshine shot straight to her brain.
A thin man sat at the piano, playing a very fast rendition of what The Shopkeeper thought was “Ain’t No Stoppin’ Us Now.”
“This used to be my favorite song,” she told the piano man as they clinked their jars in cheers.
“The right song played at the right time is my favorite song,” the piano man said.
A small group of elders two-stepped in the middle of the dance floor, lifting their glasses and their cares to the sky. She waited for Elle to get changed so they could both eatin a booth in the back. A steady hum of conversation and laughter played over the music. Her sister found her and sat sideways in the booth in a silk muumuu that barely fit her. They felt at home.
“These are my pajamas,” Elle said.
“They looked big... and soft.” The Shopkeeper laughed. She had done her best.
“You want anything besides moonshine?”
“As far as I can see, there are no menus,” The Shopkeeper said. “I mean, there’s a lady with big hips over there passing out food, but I think you get what you get whenever you get it. You eat that, and you get some more. The woman over there said she already knew what I needed.”
Just then, the lady with the big hips turned around and gave them each their own bowl of okra.
“I love and hate it here,” Elle said, looking around the room.
“Forces you to let go.” The Shopkeeper noticed that, as usual, her sister couldn’t stand being out of control. She was amused by the organized chaos. “It’s my turn,” The Shopkeeper said.
“What?” her sister shouted over the music.
“To ask questions.” The Shopkeeper leaned in so they could hear each other. The moonshine gave her courage.
They ate their okra like popcorn, a few at a time. It was salty, slimy, crunchy. “Did you know okra is a natural aphrodisiac?” her sister told her.
“Probably have to eat a lot of okra to get somethin’ good goin’.” The Shopkeeper slurred a bit, feeling the slightest buzz. She wanted to dance, but she couldn’t risk it.
Next, piping hot cornbread came to the table. Her sister buttered it for them. “Ask me anything,” she said, stuffing her mouth and arranging her muumuu.
“What’s making you say YES this time when you could’ve said no?”
“To a baby?” her sister asked, licking her fingers. “Timing. No napkins?”
“You’re not afraid to try again?” She pointed at the lady behind her, holding a napkin out for her sister to grab.
“Never afraid. Always hopeful.”
“Do you feel a connection?”
