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."

"I wish so much I could be there

just fine, girl. You just take care of

minutes." The recording over the phone all of the sudden

I'm

on back to work, Lynn, and

"Okay, I love you, mama. And tell

"We love you too,

her child and everyone and everything around her became like fog. The young lady continued to wipe her face before she eventually got onto her bike

more that her phone calls home were becoming more of a nuisance than a blessing. There wasn't a day that passed by that she didn't want

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

mouth the closer she made it to the place until her feet that were pedaling so fast at one point started to feel 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

Lynnette only wrapped her scarf around her already

and later, girl!" Clea announced as she came flying through the swinging doors

as she swiped one of the order tickets from off the hanging turnstile and studied its writing. Clea stood next to Lynnette and said nothing.

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

Lynnette said, "Oh...I was just

to her son!" Another one of the waitresses loudly remarked as

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

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

"Hello, my name is Lynnette, and I'll be taking your order today."

you're actually an American!" The

Taken aback, Lynnette replied, "Yep, I

American we've seen since we've

"Oh really," Lynnette began to relax

for the past two days, and we haven't seen or heard an American up

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

states are you from? If you don't

"I'm

you serious?" They both lit up. "We're

smile, Lynnette asked,

city are you from?" June

"Cypress."

amazing that this town was started just

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 alone made the young woman only laugh all the harder at

Kabal. Can I take your

slacks and a white shirt, placed

day, Love." He spoke in a more dignified vernacular. "It's

"What can I

before saying, "I must say that I've been to this place

I'm only here for a little while, and

replied, "I see. I

a wee-bit sloggered, everyone!" Silas came stumbling out of nowhere with a shot glass full of bourbon and a loud, jovial

Lynnette rolled her eyes at the drunken man while Livingston appeared on the thralls of getting up and separating the man's head from

him." Lynnette explained. "Sometimes it

bit garish for my taste," Livingston grumbled under

the

intriguing glare staring right at her. It was an alluring, if not spaced out stare that caused the young

"I must say, coming from my homeland, I have never tried sweet potatoes before." Livingston placed his hands

we prepare them

awfully glad to know that. This place beats

table, practically melting inside her

"I shall have your sweet potato hash, and I shall top it

Lynnette wrote down the man's order. "Okay, and will that be

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