Page 90 of Exquisite Things
“They’ve already stopped her from selling liquor. How long until they throw her in jail like Lily’s Uncle Alton for running an underground bar for Black queers like me?”
I feel caught by two opposing forces. Oliver’s gloom still swirls around me like a cloud. And now Maud’s anger approaches like a tornado. All I want is to help them both. I have no idea how.
“What should my poster say?” That’s all I can think of to ask in the moment.
Maud raises an eyebrow. “Whatever you want it to say. You’re the poetry lover. Write us a poem, yeah?”
I smile. I want to make her laugh. To change the mood. To recite the worst poem ever written. “Justice for all. Thatcher will fall. You saw what happened at Stonewall. Now prepare for your curtain call.” She laughs. I’ve succeeded. “Now let’s have a ball?”
“You’re such a little know-it-all.” She swats me with a marker.
“I’m not going away with Oliver. I want to join you.” I start writing words on my poster. I start with the wordNever.
“Don’t do it if you’ll resent me.” Maud looks at me meaningfully. “I mean it. I don’t want you annoyed with me because you missed your goopy romantic trip.”
“I won’t.” I add the wordGoingto my poster as Lily keeps knocking on Oliver’s door. He’s not letting her in. “I promise I’ll find you just as annoying whether I go or not.”
Maud laughs. “All right then, what’s your poster going to say? Never going what?”
I write in the last word.Never Going Underground. I stare at the words, satisfied. Oliver is right that we’re hiding a piece of us. But that doesn’t mean we need to hide the rest. I won’t let fear drive me into the darkness they prefer us in.
I spend Valentine’s Day in the streets. Chanting. Singing. Raging. Connecting. I see a plane in the air. I wonder if it’s the one I was supposed to be on with Oliver. I feel terrible that he’s spending the day alone. We march down Railton Road. Chants ofThirteen Dead and Nothing Said. The protest gains steam as we forge on. The crowd grows louder as more police show up. Someone blaresthe Johnny Osbourne song from a loudspeaker. We all sing along. The whole crowd erupts into cheers when the song ends. I wish Oliver could see how celebratory it is. Catch the look of elation on Maud’s face as she morphs rage into action. I wish he knew he shouldn’t be so afraid.
The protest circles the neighborhood. We end on Railton Road where we began. Thirsty from screaming and walking. Everyone needs a drink. Lily suggests we go to Pearl’s. Maud has a more rebellious idea: “The George.” Maud says the words spitefully.
We all know we’re not welcome at the George. We’ve never dared go inside. Maud doesn’t wait for anyone to express a concern. She marches toward the public house that houses the pub.
We find a sea of white men’s faces inside. Staring at us scornfully. Daring us to move farther.
Maud takes a seat at the bar. “I’ll have a Red Stripe.”
Lily quickly joins Maud. “What my daughter means is that she’ll have a Coca-Cola.Please.”
The woman behind the bar narrows her eyes at our lot. Her lips are pursed. Her hair is yanked. Her body is hunched and shriveled. “I have to serve you Black folk. But the queers will have to leave.” Her thin eyes land on me. Then on Archie. His far-too-tight jeans. His leather cap. His white tank top with the rainbow flag that now represents our community. “Can’t call the Race Relations Board if I refuse to serve degenerates, can you?”
Lily leans forward. Practically spits in the woman’s mouth as she speaks. “Well, my dear, I am Black AND queer, as is my daughter Maud, so what will you do with us?”
“You the one who kept reporting Pearl to the police?” Maud can’t conceal the venom in her voice as she asks the question.
The bartender pours Maud a soda and places it in front of her.“How old are you, child? Don’t talk about things you know nothing about. These wereourneighborhoods before you lot moved in.”
“We lot moved in to rebuild your country after the war.” Azalea stays calm as she speaks. “I’ve probably nursed some of your friends back to health.”
“Job well done then.” The woman claps her bony hands together condescendingly. “We don’t need you no more. War’s been over for a good long time. You can go home.”
“Thisis home.” Lily pulls a large bill from her purse. “Sodas for everyone. Marching against bigots like you is exhausting.”
Maud glances at Lily with pride on her face. We take over the counter. A few of the men hiss at us.
One says:Go home.
Another:Perverts.
The drunk old men spread their legs like they own the world. I stare hard at the lines of cruelty on their faces. It’s not time that has ravaged their faces. It’s hate. People who hold love in their hearts age with warmth. One man so drunk he can barely walk stumbles toward us. Spits at the ground beneath us.
We ignore them. Maud raises her glass when our sodas arrive. “To family.” Her eyes land on me. “Especially to my brother Bram for choosing to be here today. For not deserting me when we needed support.”
“And to Oliver.” I give Maud a pleading look. “Who loves you just as much as I do. Who stayed away because he’s afraid for you.”
