Page 62 of Here Comes the Judge

“I talk to her often, but to be honest with you, the conversations always feel surface level. She don’t talk about politics, her dreams, philosophical stuff, plans to go on vacation, or things that upset her, things like that. She thinks people that bring up past hurts are bein’ negative. I don’t agree with that. Life ain’t always rainbows and sunshine, and besides, it’s good to sometimes vent. See, I’m a big dreamer, Eli. A big planner, too. I refuse to be the same lady I was five years ago. I want to always keep growin’ as a person.” He nodded in understanding. “I like to be around other people who have goals and dream big, but sometimes that’s hard to find, depending on where you live and where you come from. You told me you have a goal to read all the books written by several of your favorite authors, and that’s a cool ambition. I like that. My mama doesn’t set goals, though. She has no interest in discussing the woes of the world, climate change, how Black folks are done wrong in this country, and all of that.

“She avoids unpleasantries, I suppose you could say. I tell her I want to open a boutique, and she just say, ‘Well that’s fine, baby.’ And then leaves it at that.” She shrugged. “If you try to push her for more, you don’t get it.”

“Was she… al-waaaays… this… way?”

“She used to talk more when Daddy was here. I think she changed after that. When Daddy died, somethin’ inside of her died, too.”

She swallowed a lump of pain. Rarely had Iris given herself the space and time to dissect these issues with someone like Eli. Typically, such conversations about her mother were reserved to have with women she’d befriended, people she had a long history with since childhood, or with her sister when they were close. Lately, it felt as though she didn’t have that sort of connection with anyone. It was a complicated situation.

She and Mama’s talks were always short. Pleasant, with the typical questions asked:‘How are you and Ayanna doing?’, ‘How’s she doing in school?’The discussions would end before they started. Iris had gotten used to it. In fact, she never even expected anything different. But just now, Eli was inadvertently asking the hard questions—ones that evolved naturally from their usual conversation.

She felt comfortable speaking to Eli about this. Perhaps he had a word of advice. He seemed to always see things from a different vantage point. He had emotional brilliance, an exceptional insight, like a rare jewel.

“When I was growing up, Mama was peaceful and loving. Affectionate. Funny though,” she slipped her hand away from his, and rubbed her palms together, “I don’t feel deprived or nothin’. Mama always tells me she loves me and cares for me. She’s just not… what’s the word? I don’t know… adventurous, I guess you could say. She don’t want for nothin’.”

The sounds of rock music came from a car passing by, and the trees whistled in the wind.

“Eli, how’d your date go?” She grinned, switching gears.

“Fiiine.” He smiled real big, and that smile said it all. They drew quiet again, and she dipped back into their prior conversation.Maybe I should just ask Mama straight out the questions I want answers to. When I’ve tried in the past, she kind of shuts down, so I stopped trying. Maybe I should try again?

“Eli, well, we’ve spoken of my folks, but I don’t think I’ve heard you say much about yours. I know plenty about your friends, Jude, the staff here, but not much about them. We all come from somebody. What about your parents? You never speak of ’em.”

Eli stared straight ahead, as if noticing something odd in the distance. He stopped walking and wore an eerie blank expression. Blazing blue eyes turned to slits, the muscles in his face relaxed, and his flawless complexion reddened about the cheeks.

“Eli?”

“Mmm hmmm… I… heeear… you.” He scratched his head. “Myyy pair-rents, took… care… of… me. They both diiiied… when… I waaasss… young.”

“Oh, my Lord. I’m so sorry to hear that, Eli. Strange that you and Jude have that in common.”

Eli’s eyes sheened over, then he began to wrestle with himself, tearing at his shirt.

“Eli, what are you doin’? Are you hot? Don’t take that shirt off out here, honey.” She approached him to stop the show he was putting on, but he jerked away from her, ripped the shirt off his body, and tossed it roughly down onto the sidewalk. He turned around to show her a small black tattooed star on the center of his back, just like the one under Jude’s eye.

“Staaarrr…”

“Yes, I see it.” She ran her hand lightly across his tattoo. “Did you two get these tattoos at the same time?”

“Yeeesss….”

“Why?”

Eli was quiet for a long while, then slowly turned in her direction.

“Jewwwd, did not… waaant me to… tell… yooouuu…” He blinked several times and wrung his hands, looking as worried as a child caught stealing.

“Tell me what?”

A tear streamed down the man’s face, and then another. In a hushed tone, Eli spoke words she couldn’t make out, and he shook, as if fearing for his very life.

“Oh, honey, don’t be upset!” She took the man in her arms and hugged him tight. “You and Jude have secrets. Okay. I understand. Sometimes friends keep confidences.” She inhaled deeply, then exhaled, suddenly feeling warm all over. Should she ask Eli more about this, or let the shit go? Maybe the tattoo on his back was some sort of allegiance he’d pledged? A promise they’d made to one another. Perhaps it went far deeper than that. Either way, it was a no-win situation. The man was beside himself. The thought of betraying Jude sent poor Eli into a tailspin.

After a while, he grabbed his shirt from the ground, but just held it, refusing to put it back on. They walked quietly for a while.

“Heee… pro-tects… me… he… care-reed…me…” Another tear rolled down the man’s face. Iris leaned in, and gently swiped it away with her thumb. Eli seemed to be lookingthroughher with those big blue eyes of his. “Heeee… does… not… want… anyone… to… huuurt… me, I-rissss.”

“Why would someone want to hurt you, Eli?”

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