Black Sisters

Speaking to no one in particular, Marge sighed, “I can’t believe that she is really gone. That woman was so mean, I thought that she was too rough even for death to invite her over”. Marge’s comments sounded cruel. It had only been three days since their grandma sucked her last agonizing breath into her smoke filled lungs. Still, all three sisters busted out into uncontrollable laughter. “And, after going through all of this stuff, we still haven’t found any insurance policy”.

“What the heck is so funny? You all are sitting in here acting foolish like my mama didn’t just go home to be with the Lord.” The sisters quickly pulled themselves together in response to their aunt Lucy’s scowling face.

The youngest sister, Denise replied, “I’m sorry auntie, we didn’t mean anything, just hiding our grief with a little laughter.” Denise was the sister with the sweetest heart. For all their lives, she was the one who would try to clean up any messes that the three of them got into, even when most of the time, she did not start the mess, didn’t want to be in the mess and strongly encouraged her other two siblings to behave themselves. This time was no different. The girls went back to sorting through their grandmother's things. Under the direction of Aunt Lucy, they were determined to find anything of value before all the ‘family’ got there, snooping around, laying claim to any and everything that might sell quickly at the nearest pawn shop or online marketplace.

Their apologetic performance proved to be convincing enough to send Aunt Lucy on her way back to the kitchen, leaving them with one final rebuke, “Make sure that you all are careful with momma’s stuff in here, and I want to see everything before you throw anything away. I’m also looking for this little black book but it’s so old that it might not be black anymore. It’s supposed to have our family history in it.”

Candice, the eldest sister crawled up under the bed, pulling out small wooden boxes, cardboard shoe boxes, and plastic bins. “Dang, grandma kept every piece of mail sent since the beginning of mail being sent on the Pony Express. I don’t think that she threw anything away. Now we are supposed to sit here studying every doggone piece of paper. I’ve got stuff to do”. Candice handed Marge a dark brown wooden box to go through.

“Why do you keep giving me the old, dusty stuff to look through? My allergies are already acting up?” Marge quipped back just as she let out a series of sneezes. Marge always sounded like a yapping chihuahua when she sneezed. This last sneeze though, was bigger, more like a bull mastiff. “Ah, ah, ah, choo!”

“Ugh!” Candice and Denise lurched back in disgust knocking over the brown box that Marge had sat down on the edge of the nightstand. That’s when they saw it, the black book. Even though Aunt Lucy questioned its coloration, the book was still black. It had been carefully wrapped in a linen cloth that now laid next to it allowing the book to spill its secrets.

Denise snatched the book out of reach of her sisters. She wanted to be the first one of them to know the family history or maybe even find some intriguing secret. “Girl, no one even cares about any of the old, silly stories that you're going to find in that book. Have at it. Besides, I only have one more hour to deal with this before I have to clean up for work.”

Denise carefully flipped through the fragile pages of the black book. She noticed that there were four separate sections. Each part appeared as if it was written by different authors like the bible. Just then something like a cold breeze washed over her. “Candice just because you are having hot flashes, don’t freeze the rest of us. Put the window back down.”

“Nope, it wasn’t me.” Candice replied. “Matter of fact the window isn’t open”.

She shrugged it off and turned her attention back to the book. “I should probably tell Aunt Lucy that we found it.”, Denise pondered, but decided to keep on looking through the book. While Denise zoned out, totally immersed in the black book, Candice and Marge continued to look through papers hoping to get lucky and find a lost but paid-up insurance policy.

Although the handwriting, the dates, and the names mentioned in each section of the black book clearly were from different decades, each section of the book, ended with the same line,

“When the clearing of the head aligns with the release of the heart’s coldness, life’s fortunes will be revealed”.

“Ok, I’m over it” Denise said as she placed the book back into its linen cover. “Aunt Lucy can have this little black book of weirdness.” Denise called to her aunt letting her know that she had found the book.

Lucy quickly hustled in to touch the book. She held it to close her chest. She wept softly, “Finally”.

“Finally, what?” the sisters asked in unison.

“Your mother never got to see this day”, Aunt Lucy whispered through her tears. Then she told the story.

Their great grandfather was former Associate Supreme Court Justice and ex-senator, Hugo Lafayette Black. He had accumulated much wealth during his life but refused to pass down any of his wealth to heirs until four successive generations of his family turned their back on the cold hearted KKK and the violent hatred that they lived by. Your mother and I are the fourth generation of Black women since Hugo made that fateful decision. You girls, the daughters of an African-American man, are the fifth. My mother’s handwriting in this book is the evidence that we need to prove to the holders of the trust that our heads are cleared of hatred and our hearts are not cold. The million-dollar trust fund will now be released.

Marge quipped, “So we aren’t really looking for insurance policies?” They all laughed out loud.