Jeremiah was a different story. As she wrapped her arms around him, she thanked him for being such a help to her all summer. She told him that he was the reason their project had been such a success, because he had found the wonderful young people who had coalesced into a truly remarkable group of colleagues.
“You changed their lives, you know,” she whispered in his ear, so that none of the young people standing around them would hear. Then she made the rounds, shaking hands and hugging, as appropriate for each one’s personality.
“Good-bye,” she said, time and again. “Good-bye,” and she knew that she was saying the kind of good-bye that was final.
Oh, she might see Ayesha again, or Richard or Stephanie or Davion or Yvonna or Jeremiah. One or more of them might make a career in archaeology, and then she might see them at conferences. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that they might work together again someday.
She would certainly be reaching out to them through e-mail and social media, taking an interest in their lives and doing what she could for them professionally. If Jeremiah and their workers took nothing else away from their summer in Memphis, they now had someone who would write them enthusiastic references for any job they ever wanted. That was no small thing. But their days of working shoulder to shoulder, laughing over lunch, and kicking back in the evenings were over, and this meant that Faye had to say good-bye. So she did, and she wiped some tears, and she moved on to some even harder good-byes.
There was a big part of Faye that still wanted to swoop in and rescue Kali, just as she had rescued Amande, but there was a difference between the two girls. Amande had truly had nobody to take care of her, and this wasn’t true of Kali.
Faye knew this. Standing in Laneer’s living room and watching him with Kali underscored it for her.
The old man sat on his piano bench beside the little girl, helping her pick out chord progressions and melodies. Kali’s face glowed and her body swayed with the music. Now and then, she even laughed.
Sylvia was in the kitchen, cooking up a meal that smelled nothing like potato chips and ice cream. Every few minutes, her voice boomed through the open kitchen door, announcing that Kali’s playing was “Beautiful! Just beautiful!”
Linton had stopped by with a bag of fruit purchased at the convenience store and a new pair of sneakers for Kali. Faye sensed that his status was still precarious. Laneer was going to want to see a lot more good behavior before he even let Kali spend the night at Linton’s house, which used to be Kali’s house, but Linton was trying.
If Laneer didn’t have enough years left to see Kali all the way to adulthood, Faye could see that Linton wanted very much to be the one to do it. Only time would tell how her relationship with her stepfather would play out, but Linton was aiming for redemption and maybe he would find it.
This was Kali’s home now. It was full of music, and it was full of family. Faye needed to leave her here with them. She needed to say good-bye.
Linton was fond of saying, “You don’t divorce children,” and Faye agreed. She took it a step further. She did not say good-bye to children, at least not forever.
She had plans to invite Kali to Joyeuse Island for summer visits, and she couldn’t wait to see what the little girl who loved the Mississippi River thought about the Gulf of Mexico. She’d already given Kali an I’m-going-away present, an inexpensive and indestructible cell phone. Putting the child on her cell plan was Faye’s way of keeping her close, and she was already being rewarded for it with texts Kali was sending her from right across the room.
Her phone buzzed again, and she tapped the screen to see what the child had to say.
Listen 2 this 1. Ur gonna like it
Laneer laughed as Kali elbowed him away from the keyboard so that she could use both hands. A familiar bass line rocked the old upright piano.
The funky “Bomp-bugga-bomp-a-bomp” of the theme from Shaft made Faye laugh, too. The broad smile on Kali’s face made her certain that, at least for now, it was okay to say good-bye.
Notes for the
Incurably Curious
Because my books deal with history and, sometimes, with people and places that actually existed, I often hear from readers asking whether a particular anecdote or character was real. These notes give me a chance to share the answers to some of those questions. In Undercurrents, none of the characters were based on real individuals, but I did make a trip to Memphis in an effort to get the city and its local flavor right.
There really is a large state park within the city limits of Memphis. T.O. Fuller State Park is an 1,138-acre park within fifteen miles of downtown. The park provides extensive recreational facilities as well as natural areas. It was the first state park open for African-Americans east of the Mississippi River and, like my fictional Sweetgum State Park, many of its facilities were built by the Civilian Conservation Corps. It was named for Dr. Thomas O. Fuller, a prominent African-American man who lived in Memphis and dedicated much of his life to promoting the African-American community.
The Civilian Conservation Corps did employ segregated crews, just as I described in Undercurrents.
The unnamed museum in Undercurrents, along with its prehistoric mound complex and hands-on archaeological laboratory, is based on the C.H. Nash Museum at the Prehistoric Chucalissa Archaeological Site. The museum’s mound complex was
