Page 59 of And Still Her Voice
After breakfast, I strolled along the banks of the Mississippi River. A cool damp air blew in, carrying a salty sweet smell, and when a big steamboat floated by, a bittersweet moment surfaced. I remembered the ships in San Francisco that day I walked along the bay, thinking about what it would be like to jump off the bridge, and then I met that Coastie and my life took another turn before I boarded the bus with River.
***
I met up with the band right before the concert and went to the dressing room where River got ready.
“Hey River. Did you have a good day?”
“Girl, I love this town,” he said, pulling down his lower lid to line his eye. “It’s a mecca for people like me.” I hadn’t seen him this happy in a while.
This town did have everything. All sorts of elegant mansions and fancy shops, libraries, churches, and the museum, even the little Audubon Zoo with all the cute animals where young families visited. River and I could be very happy here, I dared to dream.
“Did you know the Stash House used to be a brothel, a gym, and a gambling house?” River asked.
Now it was mostly a residential area peppered with a few businesses. We could raise a family there.
“There’s this place over on Lasalle. Man, the rhythm and blues, the rock n’ roll,” he said. “And get this, this town has the best colored drag show, the most beautiful queens I’ve ever seen this side of Mississippi.”
That sounded funny, being that we were literally on the banks of the old muddy river and River had grown up just on the other side.
River laughed, patting his short Afro. “Believe me, I know the difference.”
***
March 31, 1968,Missouri: Even though discrimination in public locations had been outlawed a few years, I still didn’t see too much mingling of the different races, even out on the sidewalks. And some places like Kansas City still frowned upon interracial couples, married or not. I remembered Mom telling me about all the bad looks she’d gotten in Glendale for being a Mexican married to a white guy. I hadn’t paid attention being mostly focused on my Grandma problems. Most places stillwouldn’t give River a place to lay his head, so sometimes I hung out with him on the bus. Sometimes I worked on my lyrics.
Why can’t you love me
the way Ilove you?
Make your heart love me
the way mineloves true
I see how you see
we are notfree
to love one another
more than a brother
Myheart breaks in two
halves. Make us a whole
lottalove, my soul
Please love me true.
A paper airplane landed on my pages.
“Hey, wanna go to a show?” River asked.
“You mean like a date?”
He looked at me as if I was serious. I laughed. “Right. I don’t mind being a third wheel.”
With a look of relief, he said. “Just you and me, kid.”
