Free Mama Ruby by Mary Monroe Page B

grinning so hard her bloated cheeks ached. “I don’t care what happens to me now. I am goin’ to be proud to show off my baby!”
    “Oh no you ain’t!” Simone snapped. She moved a few steps away, making sure that the baby was out of Ruby’s reach.
    Ruby looked at Othella. She was stunned and puzzled by the peculiar look on her face. Othella looked like she was in a hypnotic trance. Ruby returned her attention back to Simone. “What do you mean by that?” she asked. She gazed at Othella again from the corner of her eye, her heart beating like a bongo drum. Her insides, or what was left of them, had formed a tight, painful knot. “What do your mama mean, Othella?” Ruby panicked. It felt like she was losing her breath. She shook her head and sucked in some of the stale air in the musty room. She was light-headed, confused, and frightened by what Simone had just said.
    Instead of answering Ruby’s question, Othella turned to her mother. “Mama,” she said, stopping with a hiccup. “You tell her what me and you talked about while she was passed out.”
    “Uh, I will in a minute. In the meantime, Ruby, you get a hold of yourself,” Simone advised, moving even farther away from the bed. When she bumped into the wall, she stopped and moved a few feet forward, back closer to the bed. But this time she stood at the foot where it would be harder for Ruby to reach her. “Now, Ruby Jean. Don’t you go gettin’ attached to this baby. The sooner you forget about this baby, the better.”
    Ruby’s mouth dropped open and she stared at Simone like she had suddenly got naked in front of her. “Woman, what’s wrong with you?” she asked. “Forget about my baby? What . . . why . . . I can’t believe my ears. What makes you think I am goin’ to forget about my own baby?” A strange eerie laugh shot out of Ruby’s mouth, a laugh that she couldn’t control. She laughed for several moments before a serious look appeared on her face. For a split second, she looked and felt like a very old, very tired woman. She didn’t know what to think. She even thought that maybe she was dreaming, because everything seemed so unreal. “Look here,” she continued, glancing from Othella to Simone. “I don’t know what y’all cookin’ up in this room, but I ain’t swallowin’ none of it.”
    “Be sensible, Ruby Jean. This baby was a mistake and you know it. You, of all girls, know your folks ain’t about to accept you gettin’ yourself into a mess like this. But don’t worry. I’m goin’ to handle everything,” Simone insisted with a vigorous nod. The baby began to squirm and whimper, and was about to cry some more. Simone stopped that from happening by gently squeezing and rocking the baby in her arms.
    Ruby was glad and grateful that Simone and Othella had come to her aid, but she was not happy about the way they were acting and talking now. It had to be the alcohol they’d drunk, or they had both gone crazy at the same time. There was no other acceptable reason for them to think that she was going to let them tell her what to do with her baby, Ruby told herself.
    “What in the world . . . ? This is my baby, y’all. I can do whatever I want with it.” Ruby attempted to rise again. “Now stop talkin’ crazy. Both of y’all,” she ordered, her head swiveling from side to side to look from Othella to Simone. Her gaze landed on the top of the baby’s head, and she managed to smile. “Now tell me, is it a girl or is it a boy? Let me hold it!”
    “It’s a girl,” Othella announced in a tired, hollow voice. Her face looked like it had turned to stone. It took a lot of effort for her to make her lips move again. “It . . . she looks a lot like me.”
    Ruby was pleased to hear that. Her next thought was that Othella’s brother Ike was the baby’s father, like she had hoped.
    Simone was thinking the same thing. With hesitation, she placed the infant in Ruby’s arms, but she remained close by in case Ruby