...In The Beginning

When Joyce needed to talk to Nana, she would take my younger sister, Jacqui and I, with her to Kittle’s. She always knew where to find Nana when she needed to talk to her. She just hoped that Nana hadn’t filled up on Johnny Walker or Schlitz. If she had, the conversation would most definitely be soured.

Oh, I'm sorry.  I didnn't introduce you to my sister, Jacqui.  She came in the beginning on January 25, 1963.  I was a little to young to remember the pregnancy and birthing pricess.  I don't even remember if mommy asked if I wanted a brother or sister.  The nerve!  We use to fight like cats and dogsl  I'll fill you in on our escapdes later.

I think Joyce brought us with her to buffer the verbal assaults. Nana was rough when she was tanked. The conversations would begin muffled. That may have been due to the jukebox playing loudly. Ms. Hazel would always give me a quarter or two for the box and serve as referee between mommy and nana. The explosive end to the conversations would become the norm with Joyce and Nana. Mommy would always leave in tears. At that time I didn’t understand what was going on, but I knew I didn’t like mommy crying every time. When she cried, I cried. I would do anything to stop her from crying. Yes I was a mamma’s boy! So, don’t hate. I became an entertainer. I would sing along with the jukebox, dance and continuously ask for ginger ale. I was pretty smart for a five year old to distract nana like that. I took advantage of my position as the first grandchild who happened to be a boy in the physical sense. (Don’t go there; at least not yet.) If I wined she would attend to me and stop upsetting my mother. When I danced and sung for the patrons she would sit proudly and quietly boasting, “That’s my Pookie”. It worked every time. The patrons would compensate me by throwing coins at my feet, which I had to share with the little sister. Unselfishness is a lesson I had to learn the hard way. I didn’t understand why I had to share my earnings with my sister who did nothing but cry when asked to perform. If I didn’t share the earnings with Jacqui my butt shared the earnings with a backhand or the belt. Of course this was never in front on Nana. Joyce learned her lesson when Nana slapped her for me. She didn’t like to see Pookie disciplined especially when she was tanked.

I know you must be wondering where the positive part of the story is.  Trust me it's coming.

Aunt Lois and Uncle Howard Pinkney were my second set of Godparents. Aunt Loie was actual my great aunt. Her and Joyce were raised with Big Nanny as sisters. Aunt Loie was actually Nana’s sister, Joyce’s aunt. She was a heavy set woman, no let’s be honest, she was fat and she fit the stereotype of a fat woman – nasty. Don’t’ get me wrong, she was my aunt and my Godmother, but the truth shall set you free. She always had this smell of urine, funk, and tobacco but she loved her godson. She was one of my babysitters whose ethics were questionable. She taught me how lie about my age, switch price tags and stuff things under my shirt in department stores. I guess I was being trained to be a booster. Thank God that didn’t happen. She always had a scheme or a get over plan and was great at manipulating people, especially Joyce. Mommy fell for the stories every time. I had to school here when I got older. Our two families spent a lot of time together. It seemed that wherever we moved to, Aunt Loie wasn’t far behind. I guess she couldn’t let a good thing get away. She was always trying to keep up with the Cagé’s. If Joyce bought a car, then the Pinkney’s bought a car after using Joyce’s to death and beyond repair in most instances. It seemed like everything we did Aunt Loie and her brats, Tony & Jennine – the big family secret, were there.