Free When Everything's Said & Done by Eboni Snoe Page A

of the porch columns.
    By now Cora’s voice filled the street. The words were foreign, but the tone was as solemn as any funeral.
    “It is Cora,” Laura repeated as she and Brenda walked down the stairs and joined Michael on the side walk. Michael glanced at Brenda, but she continued to look straight ahead.
    By then they could see Cora’s gold wrap billow around her like a vibrant aura as she drummed and sang. Some of the children ran up and joined her, oblivious to the tears that coursed down Cora’s face. They did not recognize the pain in Cora’s song, so they moved with the drumbeat in comical fashions. Then one after the other they saw her face and stopped their antics, but they continued to walk with her, their eyes wide with questions. By then Cora’s tears had nearly stopped, but as she neared the house she grew up in, a new downpour began.
    Laura cried, too, as she stood on the public sidewalk with Brenda, Nebia and Michael a few feet behind. When Cora reached her mother she placed the drum on the ground and took hold of Laura’s hands. “The peo ple I stayed with say the vibration of the human voice goes on forever. So I sang from Annette’s grave to our house. That way she will always know where home is no matter where she died. It’s the only gift I could give Annette and you. Mama, after being gone for so long.”
    “Thank you, baby. There’s no way Annette will forget now.” Laura threw her arms around her daughter. “Been gone? Time means nothing now that I’m holding you in my arms. Welcome home, Cora.” Laura’s ivy arms clung to her daughter as tears spilled down both their faces.
    Cora closed her eyes as Laura’s motherly love washed over her. She opened them and looked straight into Brenda’s eyes. For a moment their gazes held before Cora gently moved away from Laura and over to her sister.
    “Brenda... ” She searched the eyes that were so much like her own.
    There was only a split second when their arms didn’t know what to do, but then they hugged.
    “Welcome home, Cora. It’s good to see you,” Brenda said.
    “It means so much to hear you say that,” Cora replied.
    They shared a final squeeze before Cora stepped away. She looked at Michael. “So you’re still here.” Her lips held a slight, warm smile.
    “Where else would I be? I’ve made St. Petersburg my home.” He stammered as a light entered his eyes.
    She rose on her toes and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Yes. Where else?”
    “It’s good to see you, Cora,” Michael said, his voice full.
    “You, too,” she replied. “All of you.” Cora added almost too quickly as she looked from Brenda to her mother and finally at Nebia, who remained at the top of the stairs.
    Cora ran to meet Nebia. “Nebia...Nebia, I’ve thought of you so often.” She grabbed her hand.
    “I have thought of you, too.” Her steely gaze bore into Cora’s wet eyes. “And because of that we were never parted.”
    Cora shook her head as tears mingled with laughter. “Never.” She turned back toward the street; she looked at her family, friends and neighbors, at old faces as well as new ones. “It’s good to be back,” Cora announced.
    Laura took a few quick but stiff steps toward the house. “Are you hungry?”
    “I could eat,” Cora said.
    Laura stepped onto the first step and then the next. “Well, I better get in here and fix you something.” Cora grabbed her arm. “Something that you really like. Just name it—” she beamed “—and mama is sure to please.”
    “I could do with some of your good vegetables and...some cornbread.”
    “Vegetables and cornbread.” Laura leaned back. She looked Cora up and down. “Looks like you need a lit tle meat on your bones to me.”
    “I’m sure that’s what you think,” Cora said. “But I feel good and the truth is I don’t eat that much meat anymore.”
    “My stars.” Laura opened the screen door and stepped inside the house. “We gon’ have to fix