had finally escaped from the Symbionese Liberation Army. If Adelle could get Natsinet to let down her guard, maybe she’d be strong enough to do something like knock the bitch upside her head and get the hell out of there.
“You’ll have a nurse come in this weekend, starting this afternoon,” Natsinet said, rubbing the warm sponge down her back. The bathroom floor was damp with soapy water.
“Once we have you cleaned up and refreshed you’ll have your meds and I’ll straighten up around here. I’ll only be gone two days, so—”
Adelle looked at Natsinet, a questioning look in her eye.
“Oh yes, only two days,” Natsinet said, smiling. “I arranged it with Hospice Nursing. I don’t want anyone else interfering with our program. We’ve been making such great progress together don’t you think?”
Adelle could only look at Natsinet with a sense of mind-numbing horror.
Natsinet continued washing Adelle, pausing every so often to rinse out the sponge.
“Do you know what it’s like to grow up as the child of a so-called mixed race marriage, Mrs. Smith? It can be a blessing and a curse, depending on how you deal with it. I admit, sometimes I didn’t deal with it very well. I let those…feelings…that anger…simmer for a long time. My father was a physician in Eritrea. My mother was a missionary, from Philadelphia. Her family came to this country from Scotland two hundred years ago. She met my father while she was in Eritrea and she was enchanted with him. They conceived me before they married, and my father emigrated here. Despite his medical training, he was unable to practice medicine in this country. He found work as a…in a less prestigious position. I was raised in the suburbs and I still remember the look people gave us when we were anywhere in public—the mall, a grocery store, the movie theater. They were subtle, disapproving glances. Even though they didn’t outright say it, I could feel what they were thinking: what was that Black man, that African, doing with a White woman?”
Adelle was stunned. She didn’t know how to react. Of course, she’d heard similar stories from mixed race couples and had always had an answer for them; you followed Malcolm X’s advice:
“Some of the White kids at school called me nigger and my mother taught me to
Adelle could see herself saying,
“Needless to say, the adult world is no better. Sometimes, I think it’s worse.”
Natsinet finished with Adelle’s sponge bath. She draped a fresh towel over her, drying her off.
“I figured that my mind and my education would help me reach my goals. That the color of my skin would never be a burden to achieving my dreams. I learned the hard way that even a woman with my mixed heritage will still have problems assimilating in society. Hard to believe that this kind of mentality persists in this day and age, doesn’t it? But it does, and I suppose it isn’t as prevalent as it was maybe twenty or thirty years ago, but it’s still there. I was determined that nothing was going to hold me back. And you know what?” She crouched down in front of Adelle, gently drying her arms. The nurse’s demeanor was almost sunny, friendly. “Nothing did because I didn’t let it. Yes, I faced discrimination a few times, but I never let that stop me. I can’t change the mind of the willfully ignorant. But I
She leaned toward Adelle and there was that fire in her eyes now. That spark that told her the crazy part of Natsinet was about to come out.
“So many great things have taken place because of leaders like Dr. Martin Luther King. So much advancement has been undertaken in race relations. Hell, look at the Asians in this country? They were slaves during and after the Civil War, Mrs. Smith. Now look at them; they own half the businesses in this country. They’re all computer scientists and doctors. Hispanics are the largest growing minority group in this country, and one of them is the Attorney General of this country while another one wants to run for president. Even Black people are doing better. There are more Black-owned business now, more Black people are getting advanced degrees and making something of themselves. Yet
Adelle didn’t know what point Natsinet was trying to make, but she’d been through Indian reservations before. And yes, some of the living conditions were deplorable. That, she agreed with Natsinet on. As to the rest of it, the woman was on some kind of ramble that Adelle could not make heads or tails out of.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is you spend all that time fighting for your rights, downright demanding them, going to jail for them, and then things in society change and what happens? You’re still here, in this filthy neighborhood. The police still run through here kicking down doors and cracking heads. There’s still drugs and prostitution on every corner. And these people,” She gestured around the bathroom, as if indicating the area and the apartments outside, “they choose to stay here. Yeah, some of them can’t afford to leave, but those that can… they stay! Why do they stay? It’s like they like living this way. It’s like they enjoy the crime and the filth. And why do they steal from each other, and sell each other drugs and sell the bodies of their women and daughters to each other? Tell me that? That’s why I get those looks from White people. They are looking at me and seeing you! That’s why my childhood was so fucked up. Because they thought I was just another crying, begging, stealing, lazy-ass nigger like the rest of you.”
If Adelle were on top of herself in mind and body, she would have shot to her feet with an angry retort. Now she could only run her reply over in her head as she sat mute.
“You don’t have an answer for that do you?”
Adelle could only grunt, trying to force the words out. “Grrrrr…”
“No, that’s okay.” Natsinet silenced her by placing a finger over Adelle’s lips. “Come on, let’s get some fresh clothes on you.”
Natsinet helped Adelle into the living room and dressed her in a fresh pair of clothes. It was the first time in more than a week that Adelle had sat in her own living room. Her mind was racing again with a plan of escape as Natsinet quickly put fresh sheets on her bed. She was still trying to figure out what kind of trauma the nurse might have gone through as a child to make her bottle up all that hostility and anger, all of that self-loathing. Natsinet had definitely suffered some sort of blow against her racial identity while growing up, something that affected her self- image drastically but that she’d kept hidden, buried for all these years. And it had started to come bubbling to the