Ain't No Sunshine Read online

  She paused, waiting for me to answer, I guess. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what hair color would look good with Mary Louise's complexion, nor did I care. Thankfully, she started talking again before I had time to say anything."What a silly question to ask. You're a boy. You don't notice things like that. You probably have no idea about any of that stuff." She wasn't completely right about that. I did notice things like complexion and hair color, just not on people like her, Mary Louise, or Julia. They were vapid morons with whom I had nothing in common. They had no idea what real life was like. They hadn't been forced to face the sadness and pain that Ruthie and I encountered every day. They lived in their own little bubble of polite society, where nothing was ever unpleasant. I think our common suffering is what drew Ruthie and me together. We understood each other and could comfort each other, although I think Ruthie did more for me than I did for her.

  While I didn't notice things about most girls, Ruthie was special. I noticed every little thing about her. I noticed that she had a beautiful, soft brown complexion; one like no other. And if the sun hit her at just the right time, she glowed like a golden goddess. And I noticed how her normally dark-brown hair changed to varying shades of light brown, bronze, and blonde depending on how the light hit it. And those eyes, oh my God, those eyes. They were hauntingly beautiful; I saw them in my sleep.

  "But you do know when a girl is pretty or not, don't you?" Mary Elizabeth added, interrupting my daydream about Ruthie. She was twisting one of her blonde curls with her finger and tilting her head to the side, trying her best to look cute. "Do you think I'm pretty?" Somehow I had to answer her without giving away that I was really thinking about Ruthie.

  "Of course I do," I said as I kissed her hand. I was my normal charming and debonair self. There was a reason I had garnered the reputation of 'that perfect Phillips boy'. And I wasn't lying. I did think she was pretty, in her own way; she was just common and plain compared to Ruthie. My response was enough to send Mary Elizabeth into annoyingly squeaky giggles. She didn't talk for a good ten minutes and I was able to finish my chocolate malt in peace.

  "What are you thinking about?" she asked to break the silence. I hated that question. Why did she need to know what I was thinking? Ruthie never asked me that; she just always seemed to know. She knew me better than I knew myself. Mary Elizabeth wanted me to say that I was thinking about her. I was tired of playing the game, but I decided to tell her what she wanted to hear, anyway.

  After the ice cream shop, she wanted to walk around town with me for a while, but I just wanted to finish the date so I could meet Ruthie. "A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be out at all hours of the night. You need your beauty rest," I told her. She giggled and agreed to let me walk her home. Girls were so easy to manipulate sometimes.

  I was relieved to be rid of Mary Elizabeth. I knew Ruthie would be waiting for me.

  "Did you have fun tonight?" she asked before I even had time to sit down. I could tell she was a little jealous that she didn't get to go with me. I don't think our little town would have been ready for that.

  Ruthie didn't look at me. She stared at the ground, playing with a few blades of grass as if she was looking for something. She had on a yellow spring dress without a sweater, even though the temperature was quickly dropping at this time of night. She probably wore it because she knew it was my favorite. I used to tease her and say it made her look like a dandelion. She was probably freezing, but too stubborn to admit it.

  "I guess so," I said as I loosened my cummerbund and bow tie. I hated dressing up. I came very close to throwing the tie and cummerbund into the lake, but that might have resulted in a beating from my father, so I restrained myself. I really didn't want to spend my time with Ruthie talking about Mary Elizabeth, but then it occurred to me that maybe if Ruthie got a little jealous she would finally tell me how she felt about me.

  "Did you dance a lot?"

  "Yep."

  "Did you walk her home?"

  "Yeah."

  "Hmph." She stopped playing with the grass, crossed her arms and stared out over the lake. She still wouldn't look at me.

  "What does that mean?" I asked.

  "Well, in movies and stuff, whenever the guy walks the girl home he kisses her." She paused, waiting for me to volunteer some information. When I wasn't forthcoming with any details she asked, "Did you kiss her?"

  "Well," I said as I scooted closer to her. "I did walk her home. And when we got to her door, she closed her eyes and tilted her head." Ruthie was shaking. I didn't know whether she was cold, angry, or nervous. Maybe she was a little of all three. I saw it as an opportunity. I took my jacket off, put it around her shoulders. I gently lifted her hair out from under the collar and let my hand linger on her back. She must have spent hours fixing her hair -- long ringlets hung down her back. I never understood the logic in straightening her hair just to curl it again, but it looked wonderful.

  "Hmph," she said again.

  "So I leaned in," I continued as I moved closer to her. My lips were practically touching her ear. "But when I closed my eyes, all I saw was your face. And I wanted you to be my first kiss, not her."

  Ruthie turned to me, making our noses touch. She smiled the most beautiful smile I'd ever seen, and then she granted my wish. It was just a little peck, but her lips were so soft. She tasted like vanilla, which I thought was ironic since as a child I had imagined she would taste like chocolate or caramel. There was a tingle in my stomach, and for a second I thought I was going to throw up on her. But then I realized that tingle was love. I was in love with her.

  I realize now I was just a kid when that happened, but I felt so grown up. I felt like I could take on anything. Suddenly my home life and my family situation didn't matter. Ruthie was my family.

  "Do you think we'll always be like this?" she asked as we walked, hand in hand, through the trees to her cottage. She was still wearing my tuxedo jacket, which was huge on her. It was adorable. Every few steps she would step into a ray of moonlight that would reveal once again how beautiful she was. I knew exactly what she meant. She wanted to know if things would always be this perfect, if we would always have each other. I couldn't think of anything poetic or romantic to say. I was still kind of flustered and tingly. So, I stopped walking, pulled her close to me and kissed her again. That was enough of an answer for her.

  That night I started to save money. First, I saved any pocket change my father gave me and when I got a job at the local pizza place, I saved nearly every cent of my pay, as well. I called it "My Ruthie Fund". I wanted to buy her a ring. Not any time soon, but when we were old enough, of course. But I knew that I was going to marry her. I didn't care what anyone thought. From that point on we knew that we belonged to each other.

  "What are you so happy about?" my mother asked as I entered the kitchen. She dried her hands on a towel, gave me a quick hug, and then went back to washing dishes.

  "Nothing, just happy, I guess." I sat down at the table and stared out the back window as if I could see Ruthie's cottage through the trees.

  "So I guess your date with Mary Elizabeth went well," she said, smiling. It was kind of odd to see my mother smiling. I don't think I'd seen her smile since Matthew died.

  "Actually, I wasn't thinking about Mary Elizabeth."

  "Really? Then what are you thinking about?"

  This could be my chance. Should I tell her how I felt about Ruthie? Maybe she would tell me that I wasn't crazy for being in love with a colored girl. Maybe she'd tell me everything would work out. But then again, maybe she'd just tell my father and I'd end up with another beating. I decided to test the waters first.

  "Mother, what do you think about whites and coloreds marrying?"

  A crash echoed in the kitchen as my mother dropped a dish. I rushed to her side to help her clean it up.

  "It's illegal," she said, as I picked up the pieces of the broken plate. Her shaky voice was a combination of anger and fear. I didn't understand what brought a
bout these emotions; I thought she liked Ruthie.

  "No, it's not. Virginia made it legal three years ago. I checked." I put the shattered plate in the trash can and watched as my mother nervously twisted a dish towel in her hands. She looked absolutely petrified. I approached her and tried to put my arm around her. "Mother, what's wrong?"

  She jerked away from me. "Stephen, I think you should stay away from Ruthie, okay? It's better that way. Safer. It's safer that way." She tried to run away, but I pulled her back to me.

  "What do you mean, safer? Safe from what?"

  She shook her head frantically. "He'll kill us all." She wriggled free from my grasp and charged out of the kitchen. She ran to her room where she cried for the rest of the night.

  Chapter 9

  "What's that? What are you pouring into that…that…whatever you call it?" Ruthie asked. She sat on my kitchen counter and watched as I worked on my science project. It was months before anyone would even start thinking about the science fair, but I had to be ready. I had already won three years in a row and I wanted to make sure my streak continued. This year I was working with Chemistry. I wanted to see if I could use regular kitchen ingredients to create a solvent that would strip paint. All she heard when I explained to her my experiment was the word 'paint' and she wanted to join me. "This is a beaker and this is citric acid. Right now I'm trying to increase the acidic level with –"

  "Why is that paper changing colors?" Ruthie interrupted me pointing to the counter where I had laid out various strips of litmus paper.

  "Because it's litmus paper and…"

  "What kind of paints are you using? Water-based or oil-based?" Ruthie started to giggle. She really thought she was getting to me with her questions. She didn't realize that I could never be annoyed with her.

  I walked up to her and stood between her legs, silencing her with a kiss. She placed her fingers in my hair and pulled me closer.

  "Does that answer your questions?" I asked when I let her up for air.

  She smiled and gave me another peck on the lips. I went back to mixing my chemicals.

  "So when is your father getting back?"

  Why did she always have to bring up my father? I hated thinking about him when I was with her.

  "He said he'd be back for dinner." Ruthie looked at her watch. She wanted to make sure she was long gone before then.

  "Can I make a suggestion?" Ruthie said after a few minutes. "As someone who uses paints pretty often, there are many low-cost, simple ways to strip paint or clean it off completely. I don't think this project is going to come up with anything incredible."

  "Really?" I asked. "So what's your suggestion?"

  "Well, from what I can see, you've already come up with about seven really acidic solutions. Why don't you do an experiment to see what substances they can eat through? I think that would be more interesting."

  "Why do you think that would be more interesting?"

  "Well, let's say you find a combination of regular kitchen ingredients that can eat through metal," she said, hopping off of the kitchen counter. She had that look in her eye that she always got when she came up with a new adventure. I knew the next words to come out of her mouth were going to be imaginative. "Then let's say we get unlawfully locked up in a Turkish prison. We’re sentenced to thirty years to life. Our only chance for freedom is to find something that will eat through the metal bars so that we can crawl through and escape and all we have to work with is what they feed us in the mess hall."

  "What were we doing in Turkey?" I asked. Ruthie sighed, knowing that once again I had sucked the life out of one of her adventures with my practicality.

  "We're on vacation."

  "Why are we vacationing in Turkey and what exactly did we do to deserve life in prison?"

  "You ask too many questions," she said, laughing.

  "I ask too many questions?" I asked, thinking back to when she was purposely trying to annoy me. "I just want to make sure that everything makes sense."

  "Fine, we get sent to prison for killing…" Ruthie stopped mid-sentence and looked around the kitchen. I could tell she was thinking about Matthew. She blinked away tears and sat down on a stool. We both got quiet. We were fifteen. Matthew had died ten years ago, yet he was still present in our minds.

  "I'm gonna go home, now," she said, hopping off the stool. I stepped in her path and blocked the door.

  "Don't go," I said as I grabbed her and held her tight. I kissed the side of her face over and over. "Look, my father won't be home for another two hours. Let me make you something to eat and we can just sit and talk for a while. Okay? Please?"

  Ruthie nodded as she wiped the tears from her face After she hopped back up on the counter, I made ham sandwiches and we just talked about my science experiment.

  "So what do you think?" Ruthie asked after restating her idea.

  "I think it's brilliant. I could use just five different kitchen substances, place a piece of metal in each, and see if the metal loses any mass over time. How long should I let them sit?" I loved this. I loved that we could talk like this. And it didn't hurt that it was about my favorite subject. Ruthie finished her sandwich and started to look around the kitchen for something else to snack on.

  "Well, considering that a prisoner would have all the time in the world practically, you should let them sit for a pretty long time. I would say a few months," she said as she opened and closed cabinets.

  "But what happens if I devote three months to this experiment and nothing happens?"

  "Well, you always say that it's the process that matters. So, you would still have a project." Ruthie gave up on looking for food and started fiddling with the radio.

  "But that's not enough to win. I want to win."

  "Winning isn't everything, Stephen."

  "Let's hear you say that during your next art contest," I said. Ruthie smiled and kept turning the dial on the radio. Then it hit me. "That's it!" I yelled so loudly, Ruthie nearly jumped out of her skin.

  "What's it?"

  "The radio. Electricity. I can add an electric current to the acid to speed up the process. You're a genius." I picked her up and swung her around. Then we spontaneously started swaying to the Marvin Gaye song that was on. Her arms reached around my neck as Marvin intoned the words of Mercy Mercy Me. My hands slipped under her shirt and rubbed her soft, warm skin.

  "What's going on here?" my father asked as he walked into the kitchen. He had a peculiar expression on his face. It was like he didn't even really see us; like he was looking through us at a different time. He looked around at all my equipment lying around the kitchen and he started to shake. It was as if he was genuinely afraid. "What are you doing to her?" He spit the words at me viciously. Ruthie wriggled out of my arms and headed for the door. My father grabbed her by the arm. "Did he hurt you?" he asked as he held on to her.

  "Stephen would never hurt me, sir. Honest." Ruthie answered sheepishly. She gave me a confused glance,asking for an explanation, but I was just as confused as she was. She was trying to wriggle out of his grasp. Finally, she succeeded and bolted out of the back door. My father stood there for a few minutes, staring at where she had been, and then he walked right past me and headed to his bedroom. He didn't say another word.

  I didn't understand his reaction. Why would he think I was trying to hurt Ruthie? The way he looked at her was...was...I don't know what it was. It was almost as if he was looking through her and into another time, and into some secret past. I didn't know if I really wanted to know that secret.

  Chapter 10

  I had no idea what went through my father's head. All I knew for sure was that he didn't want me with Ruthie. He could see that his attempt to set me up with Mary Elizabeth had failed miserably. For two years she continued to call and try to find ways for us to meet up together, but I always found an excuse to avoid her. We never became a couple, so my father had to find another way to put an end to the feelings Ruthie and I shared.

  "Ruth is going a
way for the summer," he said on the last day of my sophomore year of high school.

  My spoon clattered in my cereal bowl. "What are you talking about?"

  My father spun around on me. "Don't question me, boy."

  "I'm sorry, Father." I cast my eyes downward, afraid to meet his menacing glare.

  He straightened his shoulders then reached for a coffee mug from the cupboard. "Ruth is a very talented artist," he said. "It's about time she developed that talent."

  I was afraid to ask what he meant. Thankfully, he continued.

  "I'm paying for a program at an art school in New York. She'll be gone for six weeks."

  "Six weeks!" I leapt from my chair. How could she be gone for six weeks? We hadn't been apart for more than two days our entire lives. I didn't know if I could live without her for six weeks. What was I going to do?

  Sure that my reaction would spark a violent tirade from my father, I braced myself for a blow to the face, but it didn't come.

  Instead, he looked down and said, "It's for the best."

  One look shared with Ruthie after English class that day was enough of a sign - she knew we needed to talk. We met during lunch, in the woods a block away from school.