Page 33 of And Still Her Voice
“Oh, my grandfather was from Iowa,” I added. “Apparently, he came out West to seek his fortune. He used to say, ‘Oranges for your health, sunshine for your wealth.’ And then he met my grandmother, but then he died and transferred his consciousness.”
“He what?” River asked, switching legs, to massage the other foot with his thumb.
“It was a religious thing.”
River laughed. It seemed to go over his head. I’d dodged a bullet not having to explain my history.
“So, we’re probably related,” he said and off my confused look, he added, “with your roots from Iowa and all.”
“Oh right,” I said. No explanation about Grandma needed. “My mother’s family came from Mexico.”
“Cool. Before I got here, I’d never known a Mexican person.”
“And I’d never met a Black Methodist from Iowa with a Southern accent.” But the truth was I’d never met a Black person, period. Only in movies or on the recent news with all the talk about Civil Rights, had I even laid eyes on one. I thought about how my father would say he had nothing against coloreds, but then he’d utter things like, “It’s starting to get a little dark around here” when we’d go into town. I hated how he acted all superior, the way he treated my mother, too, like he was the mighty white savior of anyone a darker shade of color. And before River, I’d never known a boy who wanted to be a girl. “What about your family?” I asked.
“I’m an only child,” he said. “My mother’s white and I never knew my father.” River smoothed back a brown strand of straight hair from his wig. “So lucky for you that you knew your father.”
I looked away. Even though Dad was horrible, he didn’t deserve to be stabbed.
“I always thought my mother left me because I wasn’t born a girl.” He stood.
“I know my dad wanted a boy,” I said, sensing my situation wasn’t the same as River’s.
He smiled, shaking his head. “I think it’s time for you to choose a new name, a name to reflect the real you.”
“You mean I get a choice.”
He nodded.
“Well, I guess I am looking for choices. So, is River your Christian name?”
“No, it’s my chosen name. I’ve always loved the water.”
I showed off my knowledge of geography. “You grew up near the Mississippi, right?”
“Closer to the Raccoon River. Mississippi would have been too hard to spell and Raccoon would have been a silly name.”
“Yeah, not as cool as Sun, or Ocean, or Leaf,” I said. “I love the water, too, mostly the ocean. My last name means ‘the ocean.’ But I also love the moon.”
“Hmm. What about Sailor Moon? No, with your hair it should be Strawberry Moon. But then again, you’re pretty sweet. I’ve got it. Honey Moon, Honey for short.”
I laughed, liking the sound of it, but doubting that I’d ever answer to it.
“Honey Moon,” River said, and I turned my head like the moon tide. “You answered to it. Now it’s stuck on you like—honey.” I wouldn’t argue.
River stood and reached out to take my hand, pulling me up to dance with him.
Face to face, I tried to mimic his moves, mashing potatoes and twisting my hips, like we were enacting a scene straight out of thePatty Duke Show.
One pair ofmatching bookends, different as night and day,we sang from the theme song.And what a wild duet we were just a couple of extraordinary teenaged girls leading dual lives wanting to live ordinary teenaged lives.
Finally, I’d found a friend, someone I thought I might confide in. River shuffled to the vanity to remove his wig, his matted Afro springing to life. I looked into the mirror, feeling safer talking to his reflection. “I’m also cursed.”
He looked up before dropping the wig back into the box.
CHAPTER 13
Have Another Hit
