EXCERPT
One night, on our way back home, the conductor must have seen me staring at him, because he winked and then took a step closer. I felt something in my hand. It was a penny, shiny and new, still warm from his own hand. At that moment, I suffered from an agonizing mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. Just to be noticed by the conductor would have been quite enough, but to receive a gift was something like divine ordination. Mama prompted me to say thank you, while I clutched the penny in my fist as though it might turn to mercury and vanish into thin air.
All too quickly, the ride on the crimson tram ended and Mama took my hand as I jumped off the bottom step of the trolley. My sister, Mildred, followed along behind. Mama and Mildred waited while I watched the swaying, red lights disappear into the Southern California night.
The next day, I walked down to Midwick station by myself. I wasnt supposed to do that without asking, but I had learned that sometimes, when you wanted to do something badly enough, it didnt pay to ask.
After checking to see that there was no one waiting for the train, I took the penny out of my pocket and placed it carefully on the rail. I knew that I wasnt supposed to do that. Papa had given me stern warnings and explained all the dangers of putting things on train tracks. Train wrecks had been caused by putting things on railroad trackseven small objects. The train could be derailedturn overpeople could be killedwe could all be sued and go to jail. But I didnt see how a little old penny could do all that. Mama only had told me that God was always watching me, but I didnt think that God would mind that much.
An hour or so probably passed, but it seemed like two, as I peered down the tracks seeking the first sign of the approaching trolley. The fear of being discovered did not ease my impatience. At last, I heard the familiar whistle and the crossing signal began its back-and-forth hula. I could see the square, red trolley loom larger as it bore down on the crossing. I stood well back from the track so that it would not stop for me and also so I could get a running start in case Papa had been right about causing a train wreck.
The giant, steel car flashed past in a red blur and I saw the conductor standing in the rear doorway, feet apart, hand raised in a wave. I waved back frantically, dancing a jig of delight. When the dust had cleared, I ran to the rail to retrieve my penny. There it was, thin as an egg shell and shiny as a mirror. The oblong image of Lincoln was still visible, only now he seemed to be smiling.
Papa came home that night. Mama didnt ask where he had been and Papa didnt ask where she had been, either. After some days of silence, the harsh words and raised voices began again. I seldom understood what was being said, because they talked about things from the past that happened before I was bornpeople I didnt know and places Id never been.
Once, after there had been a lot of shouting, I found Mama in the pantry, surrounded by shelves loaded with cans of evaporated milk and boxes of rolled oats, with her anointed handkerchief spread out on her lap, just sitting there with her eyes closed.
What are you doing, Mama? I asked.
Oh, just thinking about heaven, I guess, she said.
Thinking about heaven didnt mean much to me at the time. I had trouble seeing streets paved with gold rather than asphalt, and I couldnt imagine big pearls for gates. But I thought I knew what Mama was doing.
Sometimes when Papa got mad and the voices got too loud for me, I would go out behind the wood pile in the backyard, pull out the flattened penney from my pocket and feel the smooth, oblong surface. Holding it there in my hand, I could hear the clickety-clack of the steel wheels on the rails while I walked the aisle of the Big Red Car, in my black uniform, calling out, El Monte, Azusa and Cucamonga.
|