TINY

"Tiny”

Ok, so telling Mama that lie that Thellie hit me in my stomach, when all she did was hit me on the arm might have been a bit much! You do not understand, I can’t beat that girl! She is b-i-g. Boys in our neighborhood even afraid to mess with her. Shoot, she is strong too, for a girl; but then again, I did mention that she was big! She is like that girl on Charlie Brown that’s always beating everybody up. Our big-headed big brother don’t even mess with her. He is scared of Thellie. He be trying to get on her side when we play WWF wrestling night while Mama be at Bingo, or Big Sis’ house. That’s where Mama go when she wants to get her a drink.

Anyways, Mama got really mad at Thellie. She whipped that girl for the old and the new for messing with me, her baby. Rule #1 was No one messes with Bea Montgomery’s baby girl. You see, I was what the Dr. at Mercy Hospital called “special”, cause of the fact that he thought I would only have a year to live after having surgery on my busted liver. I was what Mama would call fragile.

I was only six years old when it happened. We were moving into our fourth house in as many years and I wanted to get on Big Brother’s back and play horsey, because I was bored. Shoot, I was tired of all the boxes, the moving, and listening to Mama hollering about stuff that just didn’t seem to matter, and personally, I had no interest in.

Anyways, I don’t even remember how it all happened. I remember falling, I can tell you that. I remember my stomach hurting something awful, I can tell you that. I remember my stomach turning green and red and purple-ish on the outside, I can tell you that too. I also can tell you, that as I was lying in that dang on hospital bed covered in plastic, like “The Boy in the Plastic Bubble” I remember seeing the man that was supposed to be my daddy, for the last time. Funny, I thought he looked like a black spot to me through all that plastic, like a fly on a coconut cake.

Mama don’t talk about him. I don’t know what happened, but “he” is not to be mentioned, ever. If you find yourself brave enough to say his name, it better be a whisper. If you place any value on your life, do not mention “him”, or Mama will stab you with her tongue. Ole girl ain’t no joke. I never understood how her mind worked. If you piss her off, that tongue of hers will make you wish she had beat you, instead. So, yeah, my daddy will forever be a faceless, nameless, black fly on a coconut cake.

Anyways as I was saying from the beginning, that Thellie is a big girl. Broad shoulders, big feet and knot kneaded with two ponytails tied together by Mama’s crochet thread. Somebody was always asking Mama to make them something. From hats, gloves, slippers, and blankets, she had all the colors, which meant she would never have to worry about buying ponytail holders and barrettes, cause somewhere, somebody was always asking Mama to crochet them something!

Thellie hated the ponytails, and she hated the crochet thread that tied them together, even more. However, most of all, she hated dresses. I believe she hated any and everything that made her look like a girl. All she wanted was some jeans and gym shoes, so she could go out and play kickball with her friends. Thellie was a true tomboy.

Mama had been a member of Shiloh Baptist Church for over 40 years. She was super proud of that fact. Every year we would get our pictures taken for the church’s yearbook. One year, Mama made Thellie a god-awful ugly 100% polyester dress that had short, puffy turquoise blue sleeves with a white bodice and a turquoise skirt attached, topped off with Mama’s crochet thread tying her ponytails together.

Mama didn’t make my dress. Since I was the special child in the family, my dress came all the way from JCPenney with price tag for 15.99. I wore a canary yellow summer dress with a matching checked canary and white jacket, all of which I proudly wore with Mama’s yellow and white crochet thread.

For some reason, Mama didn’t like spending that kind of money. Especially when she could go down to JoAnn Fabrics and buy enough material for at least three dress for that same price. This dress was special. I had come through that surgery alright and was still in the land of the living.

I guess Thellie was not in the mood for taking pictures that day, or for wearing that ugly dress Mama made. She fussed and fretted so, that Mama’s church lady friends asked Mama what the matter with that girl was. Too bad for Thellie, though. Mama told her that, if she didn’t fix her face, she was going to slap you-know-what out of her. Thellie got really mad and rolled her eyes. Uh oh! Mama seen that and told her that she was going to knock them suckers out of her head, if she did it, again. Thellie got so mad, she sat in the corner, crossed her arms across her chest and sulked.

On the other hand, I was one happy child! I danced and skipped on that red carpet with my pretty canary colored dress, so those two could have their bonding moment. This was too perfect of a day to let anybody spoil it for me. I may have been fragile, but I was a beauty! I walked down that old red carpet, like I was Ms. O-H-I-O. I had the right attitude, the right dress, my hair was all that with the yellow and white crochet thread, and the cameras were waiting. In that moment, I could have been a star. In my mind, I could hear the fans yelling, “Tiny”, “Tiny!” Autographs, posters, all in a day’s work!

Then, it happened; someone was pulling on my arm. “Security” I wanted to yell. My fans were getting out of control. Didn’t they know they couldn’t be pulling on a Diva? Shoot, it was just Mama pulling on my darn arm. She was always taking me away from my fans. “What could she possibly want now”, I ask myself. I am here and I look good. Need I say more? Mama was always tripping, especially when we walk up in Shiloh Baptist church. “Tiny Tim”, she says, “Act like you got the sense God gave you in that brain of yours, she growled. You best believe I got my act together really quick, cause when she calls “Tiny Tim”, I know what time it is.

You know, I cannot remember much else about that day, but the pictures we got back told the whole story. It was not a good day for Thellie. Poor thing was always walking around with an attitude, mad at the world. What I needed to know, was why was Mama always in the mix? Why she had to dip in the Kool-Aid and not know the flavor. We can’t say nothing, do nothing, or even get an attitude. She was always all up in our business. Dang, we just couldn’t do or say nothing! I wish she would just stop tripping and go on over to Big Sis’ house, get her drink on and find her happy place. That way, when she is finished drinking, she can go home and go to sleep, talking about her medicine was making her sleepy. “No Mama”, I want to say, “You just drunk”. However, I can’t say that being too close to her. I have to stand in the hallway, while she’s on the toilet. That way, I can’t get slapped.!

In the end, it was all a dream! Mama would never have let me stay with my fans, anyway. In the end, I have decided to put my life of a Diva on hold, until the time is right for me to shine, again. “Tiny”

Ok, so telling Mama that lie that Thellie hit me in my stomach, when all she did was hit me on the arm might have been a bit much! You do not understand, I can’t beat that girl! She is b-i-g. Boys in our neighborhood even afraid to mess with her. Shoot, she is strong too, for a girl; but then again, I did mention that she was big! She is like that girl on Charlie Brown that’s always beating everybody up. Our big-headed big brother don’t even mess with her. He is scared of Thellie. He be trying to get on her side when we play WWF wrestling night while Mama be at Bingo, or Big Sis’ house. That’s where Mama go when she wants to get her a drink.

Anyways, Mama got really mad at Thellie. She whipped that girl for the old and the new for messing with me, her baby. Rule #1 was No one messes with Bea Montgomery’s baby girl. You see, I was what the Dr. at Mercy Hospital called “special”, cause of the fact that he thought I would only have a year to live after having surgery on my busted liver. I was what Mama would call fragile.

I was only six years old when it happened. We were moving into our fourth house in as many years and I wanted to get on Big Brother’s back and play horsey, because I was bored. Shoot, I was tired of all the boxes, the moving, and listening to Mama hollering about stuff that just didn’t seem to matter, and personally, I had no interest in.

Anyways, I don’t even remember how it all happened. I remember falling, I can tell you that. I remember my stomach hurting something awful, I can tell you that. I remember my stomach turning green and red and purple-ish on the outside, I can tell you that too. I also can tell you, that as I was lying in that dang on hospital bed covered in plastic, like “The Boy in the Plastic Bubble” I remember seeing the man that was supposed to be my daddy, for the last time. Funny, I thought he looked like a black spot to me through all that plastic, like a fly on a coconut cake.

Mama don’t talk about him. I don’t know what happened, but “he” is not to be mentioned, ever. If you find yourself brave enough to say his name, it better be a whisper. If you place any value on your life, do not mention “him”, or Mama will stab you with her tongue. Ole girl ain’t no joke. I never understood how her mind worked. If you piss her off, that tongue of hers will make you wish she had beat you, instead. So, yeah, my daddy will forever be a faceless, nameless, black fly on a coconut cake.

Anyways as I was saying from the beginning, that Thellie is a big girl. Broad shoulders, big feet and knot kneaded with two ponytails tied together by Mama’s crochet thread. Somebody was always asking Mama to make them something. From hats, gloves, slippers, and blankets, she had all the colors, which meant she would never have to worry about buying ponytail holders and barrettes, cause somewhere, somebody was always asking Mama to crochet them something!

Thellie hated the ponytails, and she hated the crochet thread that tied them together, even more. However, most of all, she hated dresses. I believe she hated any and everything that made her look like a girl. All she wanted was some jeans and gym shoes, so she could go out and play kickball with her friends. Thellie was a true tomboy.

Mama had been a member of Shiloh Baptist Church for over 40 years. She was super proud of that fact. Every year we would get our pictures taken for the church’s yearbook. One year, Mama made Thellie a god-awful ugly 100% polyester dress that had short, puffy turquoise blue sleeves with a white bodice and a turquoise skirt attached, topped off with Mama’s crochet thread tying her ponytails together.

Mama didn’t make my dress. Since I was the special child in the family, my dress came all the way from JCPenney with price tag for 15.99. I wore a canary yellow summer dress with a matching checked canary and white jacket, all of which I proudly wore with Mama’s yellow and white crochet thread.

For some reason, Mama didn’t like spending that kind of money. Especially when she could go down to JoAnn Fabrics and buy enough material for at least three dress for that same price. This dress was special. I had come through that surgery alright and was still in the land of the living.

I guess Thellie was not in the mood for taking pictures that day, or for wearing that ugly dress Mama made. She fussed and fretted so, that Mama’s church lady friends asked Mama what the matter with that girl was. Too bad for Thellie, though. Mama told her that, if she didn’t fix her face, she was going to slap you-know-what out of her. Thellie got really mad and rolled her eyes. Uh oh! Mama seen that and told her that she was going to knock them suckers out of her head, if she did it, again. Thellie got so mad, she sat in the corner, crossed her arms across her chest and sulked.

On the other hand, I was one happy child! I danced and skipped on that red carpet with my pretty canary colored dress, so those two could have their bonding moment. This was too perfect of a day to let anybody spoil it for me. I may have been fragile, but I was a beauty! I walked down that old red carpet, like I was Ms. O-H-I-O. I had the right attitude, the right dress, my hair was all that with the yellow and white crochet thread, and the cameras were waiting. In that moment, I could have been a star. In my mind, I could hear the fans yelling, “Tiny”, “Tiny!” Autographs, posters, all in a day’s work!

Then, it happened; someone was pulling on my arm. “Security” I wanted to yell. My fans were getting out of control. Didn’t they know they couldn’t be pulling on a Diva? Shoot, it was just Mama pulling on my darn arm. She was always taking me away from my fans. “What could she possibly want now”, I ask myself. I am here and I look good. Need I say more? Mama was always tripping, especially when we walk up in Shiloh Baptist church. “Tiny Tim”, she says, “Act like you got the sense God gave you in that brain of yours, she growled. You best believe I got my act together really quick, cause when she calls “Tiny Tim”, I know what time it is.

You know, I cannot remember much else about that day, but the pictures we got back told the whole story. It was not a good day for Thellie. Poor thing was always walking around with an attitude, mad at the world. What I needed to know, was why was Mama always in the mix? Why she had to dip in the Kool-Aid and not know the flavor. We can’t say nothing, do nothing, or even get an attitude. She was always all up in our business. Dang, we just couldn’t do or say nothing! I wish she would just stop tripping and go on over to Big Sis’ house, get her drink on and find her happy place. That way, when she is finished drinking, she can go home and go to sleep, talking about her medicine was making her sleepy. “No Mama”, I want to say, “You just drunk”. However, I can’t say that being too close to her. I have to stand in the hallway, while she’s on the toilet. That way, I can’t get slapped.!

In the end, it was all a dream, and since Mama would not let me stay with my fans, I have decided to put my life of a Diva on hold, until the time is right for me to shine, again.