Did you see her?

Who?

That naked woman walking down the road back there. You didn’t see—

Turn around

Look at her face? Who does she look like?

I don’t know anybody who looks like that

Think back

Nobody

     Remember?

**********

“They’re killing our babies,” the steely-eyed woman said.

I avoided the woman's eyes. Not another unwanted confrontation. Not after last night.

“Well—“ Vincent began.

“It’s Tuskegee all over again,” she continued. “And nobody’s trying to stop it. Not the EPA. Not the OEQ. DEP. ABCs. Nada. Nobody.”

“Some of your neighbors are trying to do something, Ms.?”

“Neely,” she said. “Neely Porter. My lab over in Jackson collect soil and water samples and test ‘em for chemicals. These big companies all ‘round the South be preying on little towns like this. Towns full of Black folk. And they just wiping us out.”

“We had a meeting about this last night,” Vincent said.

“That’s why I’m here,” Neely Porter said. “To let you know you need to gather folk all across the South ‘cause this ain’t just happening here. You got children playing in contaminated mud everywhere. The odor. Skin rashes. People walking down the street and falling out from fumes.”

I shielded my womb as Neely Porter vented. I knew that anger. And fear. And hurt. And disappointment.

No child could call me mother, yet I loved Margeaux’s daughters, and Tomorrow’s Lily, as if they were my own.

    “Did your kitty tingle when he kissed you?” I’d asked Lily during my last visit. 

    “Aunt Toi!” her russet cheeks reddened. 

    “That’s not love, honey,” I told her with a sugary smile.  “That’s lust. And if you’re lucky, you’ll have chances to feel it the rest of your life.”

    “I will?”

     I nodded. We were touring the Street of Dreams. I hoped to spark fifteen-year-old Lily’s interest in pursuing a career in real estate law. 

    “I’m going to have to leave my empire to somebody when I go, it might as well be you.  But the way these houses all look the same, this is more like a street of nightmares—like Stepfordville— if you ask me.”

    “Are you ever going to get married?”

    I snorted and shook my head. “No, honey, some of us just ain’t the marrying kind.”

    “Am I?”

    I caressed her cheek. “You’re any kind you want to be.”

    She sighed. “But mama never married either. Maybe it runs in our family.”

    I laughed. “Well, maybe some of us just have better sense.”

    She erased her smile.

    “I’m just teasing honey. A lot of folks are happy living in that institution. Your mother doesn’t know I’m talking to you about this, but she isn’t exactly an expert on men.” 

    “But I want to be in love.”

    I closed my eyes and pictured Tomorrow's scowl.

    “You’re in a sweet time of life, Lily,” I said.  “And I know folks are probably telling you not to rush things, hold off having sex and all that stuff none of us listened to, except maybe your mama. That’s not me though. I’m not gonna fix my mouth to say all of that touchy stuff doesn’t feel good. It does. But if it ever gets to feeling so splendiferous you end up doing something you didn’t think you’d end up doing—hold up,” I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.  “Has your mama talked to you about birth control?”

    Lily ducked her head.

    I frowned.  “Why would I expect somebody who ended up pregnant her first time—Forget I said that. Forget I said anything.  I run my mouth too much sometimes. Your mama knows that better than anybody.”

    “Did you know my dad?” Lily had asked in a rush.

    I bowed my head as if praying then lifted it and cupped my goddaughter’s face with icy hands. As much as I loved Lily, this was a line I would never dare cross.

    “Your mama is one of the people most precious to me. And if I told you anything about him, I’d lose her friendship. I can’t do that. But I promise you this; once you’re grown, if she still hasn’t told all you want to know, just whistle and we’ll find the answers.”   

I now wished it would be as easy to find solutions for the good people of Cancer Alley.

    "Ms. Porter,” Vincent said. "We are in the process of gathering information for a Citizen Suit."

    "A what?"

    "A lawsuit folks can file against the plants who are violating terms of the Clean Water Act, or the Clean Air Act, among others. We're building a list of plaintiffs."

    "How can I help? I'm sick of watching these companies only clean up contamination that affects white people. They know they're leaving carcinogenic chemicals in poor Black neighborhoods. It's criminal!"

    I startled. Rolled my shoulders to camouflage this creeping disquiet. Snuck a glance at Vincent. His straightened back. Earnest gaze. Here was a woman on fire for justice and a rare find: someone unimpressed with the power of industry. I, for one, did not want to give her false hope.

    “It’ll take time, Ms. Neely,” I interjected. “And it won’t be easy.”

    “And you are—?” She studied my coif, the real gold in my ears, my dutifully constructed mask.

    How to respond? Firstborn of Ruby Lee Simmons, sister of crackhead, Toni, ride or die friend to Margeaux and Tomorrow, and our dead Grace. Barrister. Winner. Murderer.

     I met her gaze.  

    "Antoinette Simmons," I said and offered my palm. "Co-founder of this firm. Friends call me Toi."

    "Well, Ms. Simmons," Neely Porter said. "I'm ready to fight no matter how long it take."

    "Could be ten, fifteen years before we see a victory," I said.

    "Some of us won't last that long," she said.

    "There'll be short-term wins," Vincent said. "We have those to shoot for. And at least everybody who climbs on board now will have the satisfaction of knowing we'll still be fighting for them even if they pass on."

    "Listen," she said. "I'm here because one of my clients keep getting the run around from the government agencies supposed to be protecting us. My client went out to start digging in his yard in order to build and right off, dug into a mess of greasy jelly, shiny beads turn out to be creosote, oozing up from the soil. He called the plant next to his property and was told 'don't worry about it, it won't hurt you.' Him and his crew kept digging and kept getting sick. That creosote, mixed with oil and tar and a chemical called pentachlorophenol, used to preserve railroad ties. Been known to cause cancer for decades. Contact with it cause kidney and liver problems, chemical burns, and convulsions. Can even kill you. Another chemical, napthalene, is also found in creosote. It cause anemia, cataracts and cancer."

    More words to add to the Dictionary: creosote. Pentacholorphenol. Napthalene.

    "How's your client doing?" Vincent asked.

    "He alive. For now. Went into the ditch with perfect blood pressure, six weeks after he started digging, he gotta take four different blood pressure pills and his kidneys barely function. His crew got skin rashes and breathing problems 'cause that mess was deep in that soil. All over the yard."

    "He want to talk to us?"

    "He got an attorney. The plant offered a settlement but he couldn't tell nobody about it, so he turned it down."

    "Was that a good idea?" I said.

    "He a preacher," she said. "Didn't think it was Christian not to warn other folk about contaminated land."

    "I sure would like to talk to him," Vincent said. "See if he'd be interested in our citizen suit."

    "What's that again?" she asked.

    "A lawsuit we can file for anybody who's been harmed by a company causing pollution," Vincent said.

    "Plenty folk should be ready to sign up for that," Neely said.

    "Some don't want to participate," I said. "Worried about jobs."

    "Jobs ain't gonna do nobody a lick of good if they too sick to work. Or are on the brink of death."   

    "Industry provides tons of jobs here," I said.

    "Toi used to work for Exxon-Mobile," Vincent said.

    Neely sniffed. "Who's side you on now?"

    "Listen—"

    "Ladies," Vincent said. "We're all on the same team."

    “Everybody keep trying to get me to calm down. But how can I do that? I see how they do us. When the white neighborhood gets contaminated, they clean it up, quick fast and in a hurry. But black folk get exposed to polluted air or water or land, they just leave it for us to keep breathing and drinking and let our babies keep playing in that poisoned dirt."