Lesson Earned

There was a woman who lived in a village by the swamp. She never had any company, except that of her daughter. The daughter would visit every blue moon to see how she was doing. Every time was the same.

The daughter sat down at the table and looked around. It was a small house, but it was beautifully decorated. “Your decorations look nice,” the daughter said.

The woman scoffed. “So my old ones didn’t?”

They’d go outside and the daughter asked where she got her garden from. “The townspeople planted it — call themselves good neighbors. They’re just trying to spy on me!”

The daughter noticed a bridge over the swamp and crossed it. “How did this get here?”

“The old man across the way built it. Call himself making it safe. He’s just trying to get some money from me!”

The daughter would comment on the new paint on the house. “Those damn kids,” the woman shook her head. “I bet they were just trying to steal something!”

The daughter would sigh and leave. “Goodbye, Mama. No one is out to get you.”

“You’re young and naive,” the mother said. “The doctors are out to kill you — they charge too high and never find anything. The cops are out to frame you — they stop you and never say why. The neighbors are nosy, the store people are rude, and the children are misbehaved. You’ll see when you get to be my age.”

Right before the next blue moon, the woman woke up to a blaze. Horrified, she went down the stairs to see a huge fire in her den. “Oh, Lord! Oh Lordy, help me! My house! Help! Help!”

The neighbors looked out of their window at the huge fire. “Let’s go help,” one said.

“No,” the other told him. “She’ll just say we’re being nosy.”

The man from the way saw the fire, too. His wife said, “Go help her.”

“Naw,” the man climbed back into bed. “She’ll say I started it.”

The store people looked behind their stores at the great blaze. The cashier said, “we’ve got water in the back.”

“No,” the manager told her. “She’ll say we were trying to get her money.”

The young kids at the park saw the fire. “Shouldn’t we help her?”

“Nah, man. Last time I saved her from drowning, she said I touched her.” So, they kept doing what they were doing.

Everyone went to bed, and the woman was left on her lawn, watching her house burn to the ground. The woman cried until the morning, then she cried into the night.

Her daughter came back and saw the crumbled structure, burnt and blackened to Hell. “Mama, what happened?!”

“The house caught on fire, and nobody came to help me. I’m just an old lady, and ain’t nobody even come to see if I had burned to death!”

“Excuse me,” a voice said. The mother and her daughter turned to see everyone in the town.

“We’ve got wood and nails,” the neighbors told them.

“And we’ve got carpet and paint!” The young kids told them.

“I’ve got some pipes and such,” the man from the way offered.

“And we’ve got food and sweet tea,” said the store people.

The old woman scoffed. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“But, Mama —”

“Don’t you sass me, girl,” the woman said. Then, in a voice so that the people could hear her, she told her daughter, “I ain’t taking nothing from some people who didn’t even come to see if I was dead or alive.”

The people stared in disbelief. “We did wanna check on you!” The neighbor finally yelled. The woman walked up to him with a deafening glare on her face. “But…b-but…”

“Every time we try to help you, old woman, you think we ain’t right!” Another neighbor said.

“Well,” the old woman huffed. “I guess I’m just the worst person in the world! Maybe I should just drop dead! That’s all y’all came over here to do — y’all ain’t come to help, y’all came to tell me I ain’t worth shit. Get off my damn property.”

With that, the old woman stomped into her burnt house. Everyone could see her because the wall had burnt to a crisp. And there she sat on the black floor, back to everyone. “C’mon, girl!”

Reluctantly, the daughter ducked into the house and sat beside her. And there they stayed as everyone went home. “‘Mama, what we gon’ do about the house? You can’t stay here.”

The woman gave her a look and coughed. 

“Then leave.”

Shaleah Tolliver

Hi, I'm Shaleah! I'm from Suffolk, Virginia, and I'm a fourth year at the University of Virginia double major in Politics Honors and African American Studies. One of my favorite poems is The Mask by Maya Angelou, and I love sunflower seeds --- hence my poem, The Sunflower Seed Lady. :)

Previous
Previous

The Stomach and The Eyes

Next
Next

nightingale