The Death of 1977 (Book 3)

Chapter 12

"What on earth is all that noise, child?" Lynnette's mother shouted over the phone.

Rolling her eyes at both her mom and the passing trucks beside her as she stood at the phone booth on the sidewalk, Lynnette said aloud, "It's traffic, mama! I had to use the phone outside this time!"

Lynnette had to keep a close eye on not only her watch but also the passing traffic that would at times splash water and mud up and onto the sidewalk where she was standing. She made sure to keep both her multi-colored apron and shoes as far away from the curb as possible.

"How is dad doing?" Lynnette glanced all around at the various people walking past her up and down along the street and sidewalks.

Sighing, her mother said, "He actually started back to work just last week."

"Really," Lynnette perked right up. "I bet you're happy about that; not having to work anymore."

"Oh no, I'm still gonna keep my job." Her mother quickly spoke up. "We need as much money as we can get our hands on. I'm just glad that your father is able to work again. Hopefully his time off won't affect his pension."

"I'll be sending another check next Friday." Lynnette said. "I got shorted this week because...because the restaurant had a leak, and we had to cut our hours."

"Don't worry too much about your money. You need it more for your recovery."

Lynnette bit down on her bottom lip right then, just as she did almost every time they talked over the phone.

"Isaac's father called here the other day." Wilma bitterly muttered.

"Oh yeah," Lynnette asked with a hint of wonder in her tone. "How is he doing?"

"He wanted to see the baby. I told him that that wouldn't be a good idea."

Exhaling, Lynnette replied, "Mama, let Mr. Mercer see Isaiah. He hasn't done anything wrong to anyone. That's his grandson, too."

Wilma breathed in and out before moaning, "I guess so. But do you think it's safe to let him be alone with Isaiah?"

Hopelessly grinning, Lynnette said, "Mama, that man wouldn't hurt a fly. Believe me, I should know. Listen, I have to get going. Let me talk to Isaiah real quick, please."

Lynnette waited until she could hear the boy playfully screaming for his 'mommy.' All the young woman could do was hold her breath and try not to burst out into tears.

"Hi, mommy," Isaiah blurted out.

"Hi...hi, baby." She braced herself. "Have you been a good boy?"

"Yeah," he shouted. "I go see Harem Grobtotters' with papaw!"

"You saw The Harlem Globetrotters?" She laughed. "Did you like them?"

"Yes! They play basketball!"

Unable to contain her joy, Lynnette said, "I know they do, baby."

"Okay, I got go now!"

"Okay, honey. I love you."

"Love you!"

Lynnette couldn't contain herself any longer. Her face immediately exploded into tears right there on the sidewalk in front of everyone to see.

"I swear that child has such a loud voice." Wilma came back to the phone. "He's gonna grow up to be a singer, I can guarantee that."

Wiping her face, Lynnette cleared her throat. "Is...is he still having nightmares about dogs?"

"Off and on," Wilma's voice faltered. "I let him sleep with me and your dad sometimes."

wish so much I could be there with him." Lynnette

just fine, girl. You just take care of

another quarter for five more minutes." The recording over the phone all of

"Mama, I'm almost out

to work, Lynn, and

love you, mama. And tell daddy I love him,

love you

the irate noise of the traffic became all but soundless. All she had to do was hear her child and everyone and everything around her became like fog. The young lady continued to wipe her face before she eventually got

more of a nuisance than a blessing. There wasn't a day that passed by that she didn't want to race to the

about the country made her feel at ease. Almost everything and everyone had gotten on her last nerve; and the people that she could tolerate were beginning to wear thin upon her as well. From the food, the noise, the rain and the heat Lynnette just wanted to drop dead right in the middle of the street

like sludge. She got off the bike and lanced it to a wooden fence before speedily carrying herself to the backdoor. The very second she walked through the door the ruckus of waiters and cooks bantering back and forth in the kitchen rushed at her full bore. From one

Lynnette only wrapped her scarf around her already sweating

Clea announced as

one of the order tickets from off the hanging turnstile and studied its writing. Clea stood next to Lynnette and said nothing. Lynnette could feel a presence

"Ya look like you've been cryin', girl." Clea whispered into her

back, Lynnette said, "Oh...I was just thinking

dat way after talking to her son!" Another one of the waitresses loudly remarked as she carried a

Lynnette just stared and rolled her eyes at the woman before starting for the dining room. But before she could take even one step, Clea took her by the hand and said, "Don't ya let Mr. Hunta or dose Yankee boys we be servin' all day

went over to the small mirror on the wall next to the backdoor and examined herself. Within the mirror she saw a face flush with both tears and sorrow. She promptly wiped it all away before turning, brushing right past Clea and bolting out into the busy dining area. Her once distressed face had within the span of three seconds blossomed into a blissful bouquet of a smile and dreamy eyes that caused most patrons to instantaneously take notice of her. Lynnette spotted her assigned table and right away made a mad dash

and I'll be taking your order

actually an American!" The balding man

aback, Lynnette

we've seen since we've been here." The lady appeared so amused. "We're the Millers. I'm June, and

"Oh really," Lynnette

"Yeah, we've been here now for the past two days, and we haven't seen or heard an American up until

"There's actually a few scattered about here and there." Lynnette

are you from? If you

"I'm from

"Are you serious?" They both lit

her smile,

city are

"Cypress."

here for our twentieth wedding anniversary." Bill enthusiastically gripped his wife's hand. "It's amazing that this town was started just a few years ago. "

bit longer than it should have for a waitress, but Lynnette couldn't seem to help herself. Just hearing another voice that didn't sound like an islander's caused her once tumbling stomach to gradually settle. It didn't make a difference what color they were, they reminded her of home, and that

"Hello, sir. Welcome to The Kabal. Can I take your order?" She

Livingston, adorned in a sandy-colored blazer, matching slacks and a

day, Love." He spoke in a more dignified

I get for you today,

cheek to cheek, Livingston stared straight at Lynnette before saying, "I must say that I've been to this place quite a few times, but I never knew they employed

"Yeah, I'm only here for a

with kindness, Livingston replied, "I see. I

out of nowhere with a shot glass full of bourbon and a loud, jovial mouth for everyone in the restaurant to

the drunken man while Livingston appeared on the thralls of

"You'll have to forgive him." Lynnette explained. "Sometimes it

"A bit garish for my taste," Livingston

the sweet

second Lynnette removed her eyes away from the menu she noticed that Livingston suddenly had an intriguing glare staring right at her. It was an

from my homeland, I have

them a bit differently; but

glad to know that. This place

to stand at the table, practically melting inside her own tennis shoes. She wasn't flattered, but rather anxious to take the

your sweet potato hash, and I

man's order. "Okay, and

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